permanent marker [leah]

[Leah Wright]

Leah hoped she hadn't offended the boy as his voice trailed off. She reasoned that he sounded more distracted than annoyed, probably something to do with his drawing. Was he obsessive compulsive? She could be a bit like that, sometimes. Refusing to do anything but touching people. Leah sighed quietly, hoping Rio wasn't going to think she was insane. Actually, she hoped that he wasn't going to want sex in the first place, which would mean she wouldn't have to stroke him.

She rolled her eyes at herself and her weird compulsions, smiling as Manuel sat down beside her. "Yeah, I know what you mean about being diagnosis-happy. Most psychiatrists are, to be honest." Leah paused, wondering if it was rude to ask. Oh, well. "What was your old school like? Did you like it? Half the kids here will say no, if you ask them." In her mind, she'd split the kids into 'nervous', 'angry' and 'mental'. She was nervous; as was Tylar. Layla was a cross between angry and mental, and Rio was in the nervous category as well. Generally, she tried to stay away from the angry kids, which Manuel technically was. He didn't seem angry, though. Anyway, the nervous kids tended to have not liked school. The mental ones had usually been kicked out or never gone -like the Faerie girl- and the angry kids had all liked it.

She stayed quiet for a minute, pushing her sketchpad aside and picking some blades of grass. "Who's your psychiatrist?" she finally asked, ripping the blades into shreds. "I've got Dr. Hudson. The male one. He's...okay, I guess." She hadn't spent much time with him, preferring to speak as little as possible during their sessions. If she talked to him, he might magically work out what had happened with Mark, which couldn't happen. She was worried enough that Layla would tell - Leah had nightmares most nights, and work the other singer up with get crying. Luckily, Tylar was deaf.

[Manuel Delaney]

Manuel nodded absently, toying idly with his pencil, before leaning back and lying down on the cool grass, hands resting on his stomach. From this angle, he could still see Leah pretty well, but the drawing was out of sight, which was probably for the best. He gave a faint chuckle in agreement with her statement; it was true, many psychiatrists he'd had experience with were all too happy to diagnose their patients. Many they liked the big words they got to use, or something. He shrugged at her question and pulled a face, before remembering that she quite possibly wasn't looking at him, and replied, "It was alright, I guess. Nothing on this place, of course," sarcasm was heavy in his voice before he continued, "But, yeah. As schools went, it wasn't the best, but... all my friends went there, and it was sorta part of my life, you know?" he shrugged again, trying to stop his thoughts returning to MaryAnna, and failing miserably.

Leah managed, though, her questions giving him something to focus on other than his now-ex girlfriend. It was small talk, and completely pointless, but nonetheless Manuel was grateful. "I've got the female Hudson, I think. I've never met her, though. It's my first day, and I reckon they're going easy on me," he told Leah, now wondering what his psychiatrist was like. He hadn't seen anyone, hadn't met any members of staff. He had no idea what she was like. "Do you know anything about her?" Hopefully, he'd be able to get some decent information before going onto a therapy session with her. It would be nice to come prepared, for once. True, she wasn't Leah's shrink, but that didn't mean Leah wouldn't know anything about her.

[Leah Wright]

Leah watched Manuel lie back, and a part of her that she hadn't even known was anxious relaxed. It was a natural reaction to being around anyone bigger than her; being slightly tense, just in case they flipped out or something. Or something. No, she decided. It wasn't likely that she'd get attacked, right in front of the school. Looking around, she realized that they weren't technically right in front of the school; they were behind the art studio. Quite a vulnerable place...no, there was a camera. With some relief, she smiled up at the CCTV, glad to know that she was being watched, that she was safe.

The mention of a school -a real, actual school, not a place for crazy kids- made her slightly nostalgic. Faintly, she smiled, remembering days of being with Louise; meeting by their lockers every morning, eating lunch together, even serving detentions together, because it was inevitable that they got them at the same time. And now, Louise was a few hundred miles away, and Leah was locked up. "It sounds great," she commented, sounding wistful. "I miss school... This place is okay, once you get to know the kids. But...it's not a real school." It was a poor substitute of a school, she decided. Sure, they had classes, teachers, the unpleasant smell of cabbage in the kitchens. But they didn't have proper students. They were all drug addicts or suicidal or just plain crazy.

"I don't think I've met the lady Hudson... Oh, maybe a few times, in group therapy and things... She's okay. A bit, um, odd." Leah remembered the therapy room and smiled wryly. "Just wait until you see her room... It's got rainbow and everything, painted by some of the crazy art students." Thinking hard, she tried to remember everything else about the therapist. "Oh, and she's pregnant."