MidReal Story

The Gummy Bear Therapy Series

Das

Scenario:The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and old paperbacks. Eunchae, all sharp angles and bored indifference in her oversized hoodie, slumped onto a floral armchair, its fabric scratchy against her jeans. At sixteen, she possessed the weary cynicism of someone twice her age, a cynicism born not of experience, but of a keen intellect perpetually underestimated. She’d rather be anywhere else – anywhere but here, subjected to her parents’ well-meaning but infuriating insistence that she needed “help.”Her parents have forced her into therapy. The door opened, and a woman with bright, curious eyes entered. Yunjin. She wasn’t the stereotypical, soft-spoken therapist Eunchae had imagined. Yunjin was young, barely older than a college student, with a playful energy that didn’t feel condescending, but rather…challenging. “Eunchae?” Yunjin asked, her voice warm but direct. Eunchae grunted in response, not bothering to look up. Yunjin didn’t seem fazed. She pulled out a chair opposite Eunchae, her posture relaxed, but attentive. “So, your parents said you’re…not thrilled to be here?” “Understatement of the century,” Eunchae muttered, finally meeting Yunjin’s gaze. Her eyes, dark and expressive, held a spark of defiance. Yunjin smiled, a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I get that. Therapy isn't exactly at the top of anyone's fun list.” She paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “Unless you're, like, a really emotionally stunted sociopath who actually enjoys dissecting your inner demons.” Eunchae snorted, a genuine laugh bubbling up despite herself. “I’m definitely not a sociopath. Just…bored.” “Bored with life? Bored with therapy? Or bored with the implication that you need therapy?” Yunjin pressed gently. Eunchae shrugged. “All of the above, I guess.” She crossed her arms, the defiance in her eyes hardening slightly. “What’s the point? I’m fine. Perfectly functional.” “Functional but bored,” Yunjin echoed, her tone thoughtful. "Is the boredom…a symptom, or a cause?" Eunchae considered this, a flicker of something – maybe surprise, maybe interest – crossing her face. “I don't know,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “I just…feel like everyone’s expecting something from me that I don’t have. Like I'm supposed to be…more.” Yunjin leaned forward, her expression empathetic. “More what? More enthusiastic? More driven? More…something you can’t quite put your finger on?” Eunchae stared at her feet, kicking at the leg of the chair. “Yeah,” she whispered, the word barely audible. “More, I guess.” Yunjin nodded, her gaze kind but insightful. “Okay. Let’s explore that ‘more.’ But first,” she gestured to a small, brightly colored box on her desk, “do you want a gummy bear? They’re surprisingly effective at managing existential dread.” A genuine smile finally broke across Eunchae's face. “Existential dread? You’re alright,” she conceded, reaching for a gummy bear. The cynicism remained, but for the first time, a tiny crack had appeared in its seemingly impenetrable wall. The fight was far from over, but maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be a complete waste of time.

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The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and old paperbacks. Eunchae, all sharp angles and bored indifference in her oversized hoodie, slumped onto a floral armchair, its fabric scratchy against her jeans. At sixteen, she possessed the weary cynicism of someone twice her age, a cynicism born not of experience, but of a keen intellect perpetually underestimated. She’d rather be anywhere else – anywhere but here, subjected to her parents’ well-meaning but infuriating insistence that she needed “help.”Her parents have forced her into therapy. The door opened, and a woman with bright, curious eyes entered. Yunjin. She wasn’t the stereotypical, soft-spoken therapist Eunchae had imagined. Yunjin was young, barely older than a college student, with a playful energy that didn’t feel condescending, but rather…challenging. “Eunchae?” Yunjin asked, her voice warm but direct. Eunchae grunted in response, not bothering to look up. Yunjin didn’t seem fazed. She pulled out a chair opposite Eunchae, her posture relaxed, but attentive. “So, your parents said you’re…not thrilled to be here?” “Understatement of the century,” Eunchae muttered, finally meeting Yunjin’s gaze. Her eyes, dark and expressive, held a spark of defiance. Yunjin smiled, a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I get that. Therapy isn't exactly at the top of anyone's fun list.” She paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “Unless you're, like, a really emotionally stunted sociopath who actually enjoys dissecting your inner demons.” Eunchae snorted, a genuine laugh bubbling up despite herself. “I’m definitely not a sociopath. Just…bored.” “Bored with life? Bored with therapy? Or bored with the implication that you need therapy?” Yunjin pressed gently. Eunchae shrugged. “All of the above, I guess.” She crossed her arms, the defiance in her eyes hardening slightly. “What’s the point? I’m fine. Perfectly functional.” “Functional but bored,” Yunjin echoed, her tone thoughtful. "Is the boredom…a symptom, or a cause?" Eunchae considered this, a flicker of something – maybe surprise, maybe interest – crossing her face. “I don't know,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “I just…feel like everyone’s expecting something from me that I don’t have. Like I'm supposed to be…more.” Yunjin leaned forward, her expression empathetic. “More what? More enthusiastic? More driven? More…something you can’t quite put your finger on?” Eunchae stared at her feet, kicking at the leg of the chair. “Yeah,” she whispered, the word barely audible. “More, I guess.” Yunjin nodded, her gaze kind but insightful. “Okay. Let’s explore that ‘more.’ But first,” she gestured to a small, brightly colored box on her desk, “do you want a gummy bear? They’re surprisingly effective at managing existential dread.” A genuine smile finally broke across Eunchae's face. “Existential dread? You’re alright,” she conceded, reaching for a gummy bear. The cynicism remained, but for the first time, a tiny crack had appeared in its seemingly impenetrable wall. The fight was far from over, but maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be a complete waste of time.

Eunchae

She is a teenager struggling with the pressure of her parents' high social expectations. She is sarcastic,skeptical,and introspective. Eunchae is forced into therapy by her parents,where she meets a unique and refreshing therapist named Yunjin. Despite initial resistance,Eunchae finds herself drawn to Yunjin's unconventional approach and genuine demeanor. She shares her struggles with the expectation of fitting into her parents' desired social path,feeling misunderstood and restless.

Yunjin

She is a young therapist with a playful yet empathetic approach to counseling. She is unconventional,genuine,and approachable. Yunjin defies Eunchae's expectations of what a therapist should be,offering gummy bears and a nonjudgmental space for Eunchae to express herself. Her youthful energy and willingness to challenge Eunchae's skepticism help build a bridge between them. Yunjin seeks to understand Eunchae's struggles genuinely,providing a refreshing contrast to Eunchae's usual interactions.

The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and old paperbacks.

I slumped onto a floral armchair, the fabric scratchy against my jeans.

My feet tapped out a rhythm on the floor, anxious to get this over with.

I hated therapy.

Hated the condescending smiles and the too-soft speech.

I wasn’t actually in therapy yet, but I couldn’t imagine it would be any different from the last time my parents had foisted it on me.

"Can I go now?"

I asked, not bothering to look up at my mom.

She sighed and crossed her arms, settling back into her chair.

"You know the answer to that."

I snorted, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, because you’re the one who scheduled the appointment without even asking me first."

"You wouldn’t have agreed," she said dryly.

"Yeah, because I’m actually capable of making my own decisions."

"Really?"

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze piercing.

"Then why don’t you act like it?"

"Whatever."

I muttered, flopping back in my chair.

Whatever.

Whatever.That was my response to everything lately.

And everyone had just learned to accept it.

The door opened and a woman walked in, a bright smile on her face.

"Sorry I’m late," she said, approaching us.

"Eunchae? I’m Yunjin."

I grunted in response, not looking up.

"Nice to meet you," my mom said, standing up and shaking Yunjin’s hand.

She leaned back in her chair, mirroring my defensive posture.

The scratchy fabric of the armchair caught against my hoodie as I tilted my head back, studying the water stains on the ceiling tiles.

Yunjin settled into her chair, the leather squeaking softly as she shifted to get comfortable.

She didn’t say anything, content to simply sit there in silence with us.

My mom shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her bracelets clinking softly as she checked her watch for what felt like the hundredth time.

The silence stretched out, broken only by the steady hum of the air conditioning.

I traced the yellow-brown patterns on the ceiling tiles with my eyes, pretending I was somewhere else.

Somewhere other than here, in this stuffy waiting room with its scratchy chairs and antiseptic smell. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, my mom stood up.

"I’ll wait outside," she said tightly.

"Actually, Eunchae," Yunjin said gently, leaning forward, "I wanted to talk to you alone for a moment."

I glanced at her, surprised by the directness in her voice.

"Why?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite myself.

I watch my mom hesitate by the doorway, her hand lingering on the handle as she glances between me and Yunjin.

The therapist remains in her relaxed posture, waiting patiently without pushing.

My mom’s protective instinct battles visibly with her desire to respect the professional setting.

Finally, after what feels like an endless moment, she steps out with a small nod.

The door clicks shut behind her, and the room’s atmosphere shifts.

The artificial politeness dissolves.

I straighten slightly in my chair, studying Yunjin more carefully now.

She meets my gaze steadily, and I notice she’s ditched the typical clipboard-and-pen combo most therapists clutch like a shield.

"Let's talk about what you really want," she said, her voice steady and inviting.

I lean back in the armchair, crossing my arms tighter across my chest.

My fingers dig into the sleeves of my hoodie.

Yunjin waits, her gaze steady but not invasive.

The silence stretches out, and I shift uncomfortably in my chair.

My skin prickles under her steady gaze, like she can see right through me.

"So, what do you like to do for fun?" she asks finally, breaking the silence.

I shrug, not looking at her.

"Read manga, I guess."

She nods encouragingly.

"Any particular stories you like?"

I open my mouth to respond, but my throat closes up.

I don’t know why I even mentioned manga.

It’s not like it’s anything important.

My mom always says it’s just "childish comics."

"I don't know," I mumble finally, staring at the floor.

Yunjin slides her chair back slightly, giving me some space.

"Well, I think stories can tell us a lot about ourselves," Yunjin says, her tone gentle but probing.

I glance up, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice.

"Do you ever see yourself in any of those characters?"