"What the hell was that?!" Gordon asked once we were way out of the exit and no longer in earshot, standing close to the entrance to the parking.
"I... I have..." I looked at him and saw Ra'zizi standing behind, waving at me with an innocent smile. "A tic..."
"What? Like Tourette's?"
"Y-yeah, something like that..."
"Well, shit..." he paused and shook his head, looking down. He walked over to me and leaned on the side of the building. "I just hope it never comes up again, because I tell you," he poked my chest with his finger, "that stunt you pulled almost completely destroyed everything."
"Yeah..." I responded, trying to not acknowledge Ra'zizi's ever-widening smile. “I know.”
"Alright, well, we're done here..." he said and started heading to his car. "Go home and don't talk to the police, call me if they want anything, and don’t let your... tic... get you in trouble again."
The way he looked at me, I felt I knew exactly what he thought, but I was too tired to argue. I don't remember much more from the station. Somebody must have called an ambulance after my episode, as soon came the paramedics. They set me on a bench nearby to check my vitals. Everything seemed to be normal, they said, but they offered to take me to the hospital for a more thorough checkup.
"You going with us?" one of them asked.
I looked to my side and saw Natasha walk out of the exit. For a moment, she gave me a look of cold disinterest. She turned to her left and walked, looking away.
"No, I'll be fine," I replied and waited for them to leave before going home.
Eris wouldn't answer for a long time since we last texted. Maybe she was genuinely mad at me, somehow? Maybe she got cold feet? Even though she was so enthusiastic before, I can imagine how much I would freak out if someone showed me something like the powers I showed her. Would she even reply then? Wracking my brain over this, I realized that one thing I could predict about her at that point was that she was pretty unpredictable. Perhaps I should have cast that charm on her, I thought—I could really use her help, or just a chat. It was all just empty speculation, and I didn't have time to worry about that anyway. My session of daydreaming at the computer while staring at a stream of dumb videos to clear my head was nearing to a close, and I felt I was about to fall asleep in my chair. Just then a loud ring jerked me awake—I got a reply from her.
"Please let me think," it said. "This is just so weird."
God damn.

Frustrated about everything, I decided to head out for a bit. Without Scruff to welcome me, I simply hurried to the same local mart as before.
A supply of ice tea and rice waffles helped me calm down as I made my way back. Anne wasn't working that day, and I didn't feel like chatting up her forty-something manager. Walking back, I tried to enjoy the fairly good weather, but the tightness in my chest didn't cease. Ignoring Ra'zizi's prompts about what I thought about how I acted towards the detective and her colleague, I heard an incoming text message signal. Hoping to find something from Eris, I saw instead a picture of Suzanne, posing in what looked like a new black leather suit. She was preening for the camera, letting the corset bit squeeze out her breasts from the cleavage. I recognized a side of a swiveling chair and a hint of familiar desk in the corner. She was in my bedroom.
"Where the hell are you, you worthless layabout?" she said, adding an angry emoji, "Don't make me wait!"
Pictures of her making and angry face and holding a piece of ribbon in her teeth proceeded to flood my phone.
I closed the chat and checked again—Eris wasn't online. I closed the messaging app, to the tune of more jingles announcing new pictures sent by Suzanne. I would have to proceed with my plan, with or without Eris's help. The time was running short. I needed to find the next woman. The thought send a chill down my spine as soon as it appeared.

"McNowdy? Matthew McNowdy?" a pleasant, soft female voice resounded in a well-lit waiting room. "Doctor Carder will be seeing you now."

Featuring a white sofa with beveled corners draped in faux white leather and a few similarly ornament-lacking chairs, the place exuded a sense of stillness that I guessed must have been meant for the less psychologically-well. But who was I to talk? I regularly communed with demons. Walking past the reception desk, I saw the ginger receptionist busy with patients' files. She shot me a brief smile, looking from behind thin-rimmed glasses, and returned to shuffling the documents. She had a beige cup with big blue letters that spelled "Sophie".
I went past her and through a well-insulated door, into a room with pastel-green walls, a way more comfortable-looking couch and a short desk, positioned sideways from the entrance. Next to it, and to the couch, was a white armchair. The walls were bare, save for a big picture of mount Fuji, with a simple wooden frame. My psychologist, the woman behind the desk, was a slim-looking, doll-faced pale brunette, with long hair bunched tightly into a ponytail. She was wearing a casual-looking white shirt and black pants. Seeing me step in, she smiled pleasantly and stood up, walking to me with arm outstretched.

"Mister McNowdy, nice to meet you!"
I shook her hand, hearing a giggle I've known so well behind me.
"Do you mind if I call you Matt?" she asked.
I looked at her for a moment and gave her an equally wide smile. With her hand still in mine, I replied "No, not at all!"
"Great, I'm Stephanie, but you can call me Stephie!"
After a moment of standing still and shaking hands, she nodded towards the couch. "Would you like to have a seat?"
I obliged her, and she sat in the armchair facing me, took a deep breath and let the silence hang in the air. It was time for me to get some therapy.