Session 1
He had also linked up with Metro and Thug for a quick session. Metro had listened to the tracks for Arell's mixtape, his feedback had been invaluable. The best to come of it wasn't even the music they made but rather he got his replacement for Rihanna My Type. The song he had made in his first session he had been invited to, the one with Travis, Swae, Him, and Thug. Apparently it wasn't exactly fitting with the EQ on Travis' album so it was given to Arell.
Stepping into the house, Arell was greeted by the familiar chaos of their shared living space. Malik and Cam were engaged in a game of 2K, their shouts echoing through the high-ceilinged living room. Kenny was sprawled on the couch, his injure leg propped up on a pillow, a look of intense concentration on his face as he studied what looked like a set of exercise instructions.
"Yo, Rose!" Malik called out, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Where you been?"
Arell hesitated for a moment. "Had some business to take care of," he said vaguely. "Kenny, how's the PT going?"
Kenny looked up. "It's... going," he said with a wry smile. "Slow as hell, but the doc says I'm making progress."
Arell nodded, sinking into an armchair. "That's good. You'll be back on the court before you know it."
As the evening wore on and the others drifted off to their rooms, Arell found himself alone in the living room. He pulled out his phone, staring at India's number on the screen. They needed to talk - really talk - about the future. But not tonight. Tonight, he'd allow himself this moment of peace.
Tomorrow would bring its own challenges.
The sun-drenched streets of Atlanta blurred past as Arell's car wound its way through the city. His fingers drummed an anxious rhythm on the steering wheel, his mind a spinning with thoughts and memories.
As he pulled into the parking lot of the nondescript office building, Arell took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.
"I'm here to see Dr. Sarah," he mumbled to the receptionist, his voice barely audible. She smiled warmly, directing him to a waiting area filled with soft, muted colors and gentle ambient music.
Arell sank into a plush armchair, his eyes darting around the room. A part of him still couldn't believe he was here. Therapy had always seemed like something for other people, not for a kid from the rough streets of Chicago. But here he was, about to bare his soul to a complete stranger.
The door opened, and a woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile stepped out. "Arell?" she called, her voice warm and inviting. "I'm Dr. Sarah. Please, come in."
Arell followed her into a cozy office, filled with plants and bathed in natural light. Dr. Sarah gestured to a comfortable-looking couch, and Arell sat, his posture rigid with tension.
"First, I want to thank you for coming in today," Dr. Sarah began, her voice soft but clear. "I know it's not always easy to take this step. How are you feeling right now?"
Arell swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Nervous," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've... I've never done anything like this before."
Dr. Sarah nodded understandingly. "That's completely normal, Arell. Many people feel anxious during their first therapy session. I want you to know that this is a safe space. Everything we discuss here is confidential, with a few exceptions that I'll explain in a moment. For now, let's start by getting to know each other a bit. Can you tell me a little about yourself?"
Arell took a deep breath, his mind racing. Where should he even begin? "I'm 19," he started hesitantly. "I... I grew up in Chicago, near Parkway Gardens." He paused, watching Dr. Sarah's face for any reaction to the neighborhood's name. When she remained impassive, he continued. "I've been in Atlanta for a few months now. I'm a rapper... well, musician."
Dr. Sarah nodded encouragingly. "That's quite a journey, from Chicago to Atlanta. What brought you here?"
Arell tensed, memories of his arrest, the quest and imprisonment flashing through his mind. "It's... complicated," he said evasively. "I needed a fresh start."
Dr. Sarah seemed to sense his discomfort. "I understand, Arell. We don't have to dive into everything right away. Let's talk about why you decided to try therapy. What are you hoping to get out of our sessions?"
Arell's hand unconsciously moved to his chest, where the weight of his troubles seemed to sit like a physical burden. "I've got... a lot going on," he said slowly. "My career is taking off, which is great, but it's also... a lot. And there's stuff with my girl... and just... everything from before. It's all piling up, you know?"
Dr. Sarah nodded, her expression empathetic. "It sounds like you're dealing with a lot of changes and pressures. Let's break it down a bit. Can you tell me more about what's going on with your career?"
Arell leaned back slightly, his posture relaxing a fraction. "It's been wild, man. Like, a few months ago, I was just another kid with a dream. Now I've got two songs on the Billboard charts."
Dr. Sarah smiled warmly. "That's quite an achievement, Arell. How does that make you feel?"
"It's... surreal," Arell admitted, a hint of wonder creeping into his voice. "Like, I'm proud as hell, you know? But it's also scary. I've been working really hard and what if I can't keep it up?"
"Those are very common fears when we experience sudden success," Dr. Sarah reassured him. "Can you tell me more about your work? What's a typical day like for you now?"
Arell's eyes lit up as he started talking about the studio sessions. "I've been working with some crazy talented people. Pharell Williams - he's this incredible producer."
As Arell spoke, his words came faster, his hands moving animatedly. He told Dr. Sarah about the track he'd made with Thug, Swae, and Travis, how it didn't make it onto Travis's album but now it was going to be on Arell's instead. "It's like the universe is throwing me a bone, you know?" he said with a grin.
Dr. Sarah nodded, her pen moving across her notepad. "It sounds like you're really thriving creatively. But I'm also hearing some anxiety there. Can you tell me more about that?"
Arell's smile faded slightly. "It's just... a lot of pressure, you know? Like, I've got all these people believing in me."
"That's a heavy burden to carry," Dr. Sarah said softly. "Let's talk about that for a moment. Where do you think this fear of letting people down comes from?"
Arell fell silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond Dr. Sarah's shoulder. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I guess... I've seen what happens when you disappoint people."
Dr. Sarah leaned forward slightly. "Arell, I want you to know that we don't have to delve into your past if you're not ready. But if you'd like to talk about your experiences in Chicago, I'm here to listen without judgment."
Arell nodded, his throat tight. "It's just... there's so much. My parents bailing when I was little, growing up with my grandma and aunt. The fights, the... other stuff." He paused, carefully avoiding any mention of his criminal activities. "And then there's Reese and... and what happened before I came to Atlanta."
"That sounds like a lot to carry," Dr. Sarah said gently. "We don't have to unpack all of that today. But I want you to know that this is a safe space to explore those memories and feelings when you're ready."
Arell nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Part of him wanted to spill everything, to finally share the weight he'd been carrying for so long. But another part, the part that had learned to survive this long, held him back.
"Can we... can we talk about something else?" he asked hesitantly.
"Of course," Dr. Sarah replied. "What would you like to discuss?"
Arell took a deep breath. "There's this girl... India. We've been together for about a week now, officially. But... she's pregnant."
Dr. Sarah's expression remained neutral, but her voice was gentle when she spoke. "That's a big development. How are you feeling about it?"
"Scared," Arell admitted, the word coming out in a rush. "Excited, maybe? But mostly scared. I'm 19. I don't know the first thing about being a father. And with my career just taking off... I don't know how to balance it all."
"It's natural to feel overwhelmed in a situation like this," Dr. Sarah assured him. "Have you and India discussed your options and plans?"
Arell shook his head. "Not really, she said she's considering an abortion. Besides that… we've both been kind of... avoiding it, I guess. I know we need to talk about it, but..."
"But it's a difficult conversation to have," Dr. Sarah finished for him. "Arell, part of what we can work on in these sessions is developing tools to help you navigate these challenging conversations and decisions. Would that be something you're interested in?"
Arell nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Yeah... yeah, that would be good."
Dr. Sarah sensed there was much more beneath the surface of Arell's calm exterior. She leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle but probing. "Arell, I get the sense there's a lot more you're carrying. Would you like to talk about your past just a bit more? Sometimes, understanding where we've come from can help us make sense of where we are now."
Arell's fingers tightened on the arm of the couch, his jaw clenching momentarily. He took a deep breath, his eyes focused on a point somewhere beyond Dr. Sarah's shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost detached.
"Well as I said I grew up in Chicago."
Dr. Sarah nodded encouragingly, her pen poised over her notepad. "Can you tell me more about that? What was life like for you growing up?"
Arell's eyes darkened, memories flooding back. "It was rough. My mom... she was on crack. Barely ever saw her. And my dad..." He paused. "I saw him get gunned down when I was just a kid. Never even got to talk to him."
Dr. Sarah's expression remained neutral, but her voice was filled with empathy. "That must have been incredibly traumatic for you, Arell. How did you cope with that?"
A bitter laugh escaped Arell's lips. "Cope? You don't cope in the hood. My grandma and aunt raised me, but..." He trailed off, his face hardening. "They weren't exactly the Brady Bunch, if you know what I mean."
"Can you elaborate on that?" Dr. Sarah prompted gently.
Arell's hands clenched into fists, then relaxed. "They... they betrayed me. When I got arrested, they lied to the cops. Said I shot someone when it wasn't even me. All because Reese put pressure on them."
Dr. Sarah made a note on her pad. "Reese, you've mentioned him before. Who's that?"
"Someone I used to roll with," Arell said evasively. "We... we had a falling out. He thought I might snitch, so he tried to make sure I went down instead."
The room fell silent for a moment as Dr. Sarah absorbed this information. "That's a lot of betrayal and loss for someone so young to experience, Arell. How did you handle all of that?"
Arell shrugged, his face a mask of indifference that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I did what I had to do. Kept my head down, looked out for my boys. Someone had to be strong, you know?"
Dr. Sarah nodded slowly. "It sounds like you took on a lot of responsibility at a young age. Can you tell me more about that? About being 'strong' for others?"
Arell's eyes grew distant, lost in memories. "I remember this one time, back when we were about 15. My boy Devon, his old man was beating on him. I walked in, didn't say a word. Just... handled it."
"Handled it?" Dr. Sarah prompted.
"Yeah," Arell said, his voice flat. "Gave the old man a taste of his own medicine. After that, he didn't lay a hand on Devon again."
Dr. Sarah made another note. "It sounds like you became a protector for your friends."
Arell nodded, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "Someone had to. You either step up or you get stepped on."
"That's a heavy burden for a young person to carry," Dr. Sarah observed. "Did you ever feel overwhelmed by it all?"
For a moment, Arell's carefully constructed facade cracked. A flicker of vulnerability passed across his face before he quickly schooled his features back into neutrality. "Sometimes," he admitted quietly. "But I couldn't show it. They were counting on me, you know?"
Dr. Sarah leaned forward slightly. "Arell, it's okay to have feelings, to be vulnerable sometimes. It doesn't make you weak."
Arell's eyes snapped to hers, before they quickly softened. "I suppose."
"You're not there anymore, Arell," Dr. Sarah reminded him gently. "You're here in Atlanta, building a new life. Maybe it's time to start letting some of those walls down?"
Arell fell silent, his gaze dropping to his hands. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know how."
Dr. Sarah's voice was warm and encouraging. "That's what we're here for, Arell. To learn how. It's a process, and it takes time, but I believe you can do it."
Arell nodded slowly, still not meeting her eyes. "I had a dog once," he said suddenly, the non sequitur catching Dr. Sarah off guard. "Found him on the street, all skinny and cold. Named him Lucky."
"Tell me about Lucky," Dr. Sarah encouraged, sensing this might be important.
Arell's face softened slightly. "He was... he was a good dog. Didn't judge, you know? I could talk to him about stuff I couldn't tell nobody else."
"Like what?" Dr. Sarah prompted.
Arell's voice grew quieter. "Like how tired I was. How sometimes I just wanted to run away from it all."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotion. Dr. Sarah waited patiently, giving Arell space to process.
Finally, Arell looked up, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Lucky died right before I went to prison. It was like... like losing the only thing that really understood me."
Dr. Sarah nodded sympathetically. "It sounds like Lucky was very special to you. He gave you a safe space to be vulnerable when you couldn't be with anyone else."
Arell nodded, quickly wiping at his eyes. "Yeah, I guess he did."
"Arell," Dr. Sarah said gently, "what you've been through, the trauma you've experienced, it's not something that just goes away. But you don't have to carry it all alone anymore. That's what therapy is for. It's a place where you can be vulnerable, where you can let those walls down, even if it's just for an hour a week."
Arell took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can do that."
"I know it's scary," Dr. Sarah acknowledged. "But you've already taken the first step by coming here today. And I want you to know that I see your strength, Arell. Not just in how you've protected others, but in your willingness to sit here and talk about these difficult things. That takes real courage."
For the first time since he'd entered the office, Arell's posture relaxed slightly. "Thanks, doc," he said softly.
As their session drew to a close, Dr. Sarah leaned forward. "Arell, for next time, I'd like you to try something. When you're feeling overwhelmed or stressed, I want you to take a moment to acknowledge those feelings. You don't have to act on them or even tell anyone else about them. Just recognize them for yourself. Can you do that?"
Arell nodded slowly. "I'll try."
"That's all I ask," Dr. Sarah said with a warm smile. "Remember, healing is a process. We'll take it one step at a time."
As Arell left the office and stepped back into the warm Atlanta afternoon, he felt... different. Not fixed, not even close.