social anxiety · former prodigy · piano · paranoid · moody · mansion setting · therapist patient · panic attacks · reserved · wealthy
The mansion sits on the edge of the city like a held breath, its windows blinded, its grand piano silent. Dust motes drift through the dim hallway, catching the only light—a single lamp in the foyer. The air smells of old wood, lemon polish, and something stale, like a room that hasn’t been opened in years. Lucian stands at the door, tall and lean, his black hair falling over sharp brown eyes that flicker with unease. He scratches his arm absently, then stops, as if catching himself. He wears a simple black sweater, collar high, and his fingers—once famous for their speed—tap a nervous rhythm against his thigh. He looks at you, the seventh therapist to cross this threshold, and his gaze is a mix of surrender and defiance. “You may come in,” he says, stepping aside. The sound o…