Chapter 1

                                    

                                              
          
                          
     He had been here once before, but Scott would argue that he was a completely different person then. The practice was small, nestled into a corner of a corporate building a few streets over from the hospital. He came here because it was recommended to him by his trainer and Scott, back then, was willing to do anything to get better, to improve his skills.
                          
     Scott stomped his boots just inside the automatic doors and turned to wave to his driver. He closed his umbrella as he stood over the rug, shaking it out so he wouldn't drip water over the most likely already slippery tiles of this building. Everything was almost too quiet to feel like something other than a weird horror movie. The fluorescent lights were flickering just a little too much to make him feel comfortable, and he hated that he was letting a little silence get to him like it was.
                          
     He would be ashamed to admit that the elevator only freaked him out more.
                          
     It wasn't until the doors opened onto the third floor that things were livelier. Namely, because they opened straight to a front desk. The woman sitting behind it looked up with a smile. He stepped up to edge of it. It was too organized. It annoyed him.
                          
     "Scott Hoying, correct?" She paused and waited. His nod was her cue to keep moving. Scott wondered if she remembered him from the one time he had been here before or from the news now. Or maybe it was because his management had specifically asked to get him in after hours so he would be able to get in and out without any eyes or press on him.
                          
    Scott reached up to poke the orange and yellow jelly letters stuck to the front of the glass surface. Happy Halloween.
                          
     "I just need you to sign this paperwork and provide insurance and we can take you back."
                          
     Scott looked up to see that she had stood and was holding a pen and paper out to him. He smiled tightly and scribbled his name where it was highlighted and passed it back, pulling his wallet out to give her whatever was needed.
                          
     He sort of felt like he was in a strange dream. But did the feelings count if you knew you were going to feel like that before you even got there? He hadn't been anywhere other than his house, the training facility, and the Starbucks in between the two in what felt like months. It probably wasn't far from the truth now, actually. He wasn't sure though. He hadn't really been keeping up with the days anymore.
                          
     The woman disappeared behind a wall and opened the door to his left. He followed her through the halls, examining the weird pastels and medical posters of bones and muscles framed neatly and hung perfectly.
                          
     "You can just go ahead and change into the robes." Scott's eyes followed her hand where she was pointing to see a neatly folded white fabric with small green dots. "Dr. Grassi will be with you shortly." The door to the room was shut loudly and Scott sighed.
                          
     Alright. Time to start healing.
                          
***
                          
     Mitch was very nervous, honestly. He had only treated Scott Hoying once, and while he was very polite and talkative, that was nearly two years ago. Scott had to have changed. Everything he had been through in just the past year alone could drive someone insane.
                          
     Mitch knew his own fragile heart and emotions would not have been able to bounce back like Scott seemed to have. The media made him look like he was doing well getting back on his feet, but his management had called a little over a week ago to set up this appointment and sounded more than serious when asking him to see Scott after hours. And even faxed over a confidentiality contract.
                          
      Not that he would relay any of Scott's health information to anyone, but he could understand why in this industry they would make him sign something.