4

As a child, Amber Cavanaugh was exceptional at many things. Violin. Baseball. Piano. Soccer. Tennis. It was as if there was nothing she couldn't excel in, and that was true. There wasn't. Whenever she put her mind on one thing, the rest of her entirety would focus solely on it to the point that it was almost terrifying to her parents and thankfully, since she was born with very wealthy parents, she knew that whatever her fixation was, it would be handled as quickly as it existed.

But these things... Knowing that whatever you want could be given to you at any time when you wish it. That no one was truly any competition. Seeing other people beneath her made her angry at first. The last one was most especially because of the fact that she knew they could be better if they actually focused on it. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be highly competitive and no one could possibly reach your level? You find yourself getting bored and extremely irritated. 

You begin to hate everything around you. 

The fact that she was different was becoming so painstakingly clear because aside from other people, she didn't have the same things that weighed them down. Amber never found herself needing a friend, nor did she ever wish to go for slumber parties and sleepovers. She was smart. She was driven. And the entire world was too simple and disregarded her needs. Being smart and surrounded by stupid people was a thing so painful that no one else could understand except yourself. 

Yet, there was one person that caught her attention. Love Alistair. 

Love was your typical kindergartener, with her missing tooth and her stained clothes. This wasn't because she wasn't alright. She was. Love was the most popular person in first grade. Everyone admired her, everyone except Amber that is, which was odd because Love wanted to be her friend even though she tried keeping her away. That was until she realized Love was the only one who could explain how the world truly worked. 

"Doctor Cavanaugh," She turns to the voice as she walks into the building. The receptionist, of course, is on full-on smiles. This is natural. Carla Stevens is a chubby redhead who reminds one of the popular red panda stereotype. The one that raises their hand in a terrifying position to scare off their predator but it only made them look like they deserved a good stretch. "Good morning!"

Amber had learned at ten years old that people enjoyed seeing mirrors of themselves in other people. Though as much as they acted like they couldn't bear to see their faults in their own selves, it felt so much better to see them in others. And that was what Amber did. Stealthily anyway. "Carla, hello. Did you do something to your hair? It looks beautiful."

It's a lie. Nothing looks different but Amber would have noticed if something was different. It was a curse for her to be so adept in details, her focus better than others. Still, Carla liked compliments. Lived for them even. It was the reason she engaged in conversations with Amber because the other therapists in that building were less forthcoming. 

Amber watches her pat her hair with a proud smile on her face as she says, "Not exactly, though I did try a new style with my curler today..." The smile goes away and a nervous look replaces it. Amber's eyes have not left Carla's face but she can see the woman fidgeting, nervously moving her hand. It is a new behaviour from her towards Amber. New things aren't exactly pleasant to the doctor, especially when there are things that she has no idea of but this time, she finds herself needing to know what it is. 

"Tell me," Her voice is soft and understanding but her heart is beating fast. Not in any other emotion but anticipation. Her nails glisten even though they're short but the silver polish is remarkable on her skin. "You know I don't bite."

There was something about Humans trusting in her that made Amber feel like a god. The idea that it was something that could break them was even more exhilarating. The feeling of being needed, liked, important. All of this gave her a rush akin to an orgasm. Plus, the fact that she held power over them by knowing their secrets was much much better than anything else in the world. 

Except cats. Cats could be an exception.

"I received a call today by three a.m. this morning," Carla's voice is small, showing a hint of fear and guilt. This isn't directed at Amber anyway. She wholly trusts her. Even with the entirety of her soul. This was because she knew what she had done was wrong and the other therapists would have had her head if she had done the same thing with them. "It was from... A male. I do not know how he got my number but he had been... Relentless in his calls. He had called to book an appointment today and demanded that I fix it with you even after... Even after I had told him that you receive only three patients in a day. He had said that... That you would want to see him. That it would have been in your own best interest and you would not regret it."

Amber is staring, her mind for the first time blank. At first, she thinks about the fact that it could be one of her old flames but she knows it's not. Being with Viktor was a good enough reason to keep them all away, they were not stupid. And there was no one else that she could claim had any connections to her. No one. She tried to think about what could have made anyone find her? What could she have possibly done to get that sort of... Message?

Yet, the tingles that had begun in her body began to grow now. An emotion close to being burnt. Amber is familiar with it. The burning. The way it sizzles your nerves. She could smell the burning flesh. Her anticipation was growing to an excitement so steep it was almost blinding. "How did he sound like?"

"Impatient?" Carla could still feel the goosebumps from how he had sounded. His voice was so low and deep it was almost as if he was standing behind her, towering over her body with his claws stretched out in a menacing gesture. "He sounded... Tired. And angry. Especially when I tried telling him that you couldn't see him. He said... He said he knew this. And my reply meant nothing. Arrogant too... He sounded... Psychotic."

That was it. That was the word that Amber was looking for. Her eyes widen a fraction, her world pausing. She is more than excited now. Expectant, even. She had met people who were insane, and unstable. The attributes that Carla mentioned were natural day-to-day occurrences as a therapist. She found them. It happened. People with NPD, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, or those with Borderline Personality Disorder. Or even Bipolar Disorders. She had met them, and even worse so it wasn't her words that made her feel so... Alive. It was the way she looked.

Carla was the type of person who was always bubbly. Happy. It seemed as if whoever he had been had left a dark shadow that hung over, sucking all of her happiness away. This person... This person was driving Amber with the need to see who they were. It was the start of her journey to madness. She of all people should have known this. She had not.

"Did you do that then? Did you add him to my schedule?" She was trying her hardest not to show her desire to meet him. To see if he was anything similar to her. Instead, she focused on showing the worry and concern she couldn't feel on her face at Carla's obvious distraught. When she saw the woman nod, she managed a small smile on her face and placed a hand on the woman's, saying softly, "I understand. You must feel disoriented today. Why didn't you call in sick today?"

"Because I wanted to tell you about this before you met him," She's worried that she's upset Cavanaugh. There was something about her that made the thought of disappointing her cause a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was... She was magnetic. A vision of perfection. It was as if being next to Amber made you feel redeemed. Good enough. She didn't want to lose that. "Does this upset you?"

"It destabilizes me, but I will survive it. Who am I to ignore the calls of the people that need me? I am here just to care for them anyway," This is a lie. She lies so easily Amber can feel herself radiate with pride at how good she is. Her thoughts are flying to who the male might be, and what he might have against her. What he wishes to say. She knows too well that anyone like her would never go to therapy, never. Not unless they desired something that other people couldn't give. 

Carla's face shows visible relief. She's happy again. Even though concern lights her eyes she asks gently, "Do you think you would be okay?"

Amber nods and begins to walk to her office, chuckling as she does so. "Never been better." 

Today had started irritating but for the first time, something she had never expected was becoming more welcomed with every second that passed.