Ryan Goes to Group Therapy
By Whiteboiwife. The fluorescent lighting buzzed faintly above as Ryan stepped into the small meeting room, the door clicking shut behind him like a seal of quiet judgment. The air was cool — too cool, brushing lightly against the thin fabric of his green polo. He tugged it down self-consciously, his fingers grazing the curve of his belt buckle, then looked around. The chairs were set in a semi-circle, facing a small folding table with a projector sitting
Read more