Athena's Story

It’s a site where people supposedly post their experiences. The stories on it are supposed to be true, but a lot of them are obviously made up. It’s also problematic because a lot of them which probably are true are reminiscences about childhood awakenings and things like that, which are not what Athena is looking for. There’s a lot of stuff about family members too, which she has mixed feelings about, although she’s recently gotten sucked into a series of posts from a nerdy chick who gets turned on by her mom’s boobs. Despite all those qualms, she keeps coming back.

The bed is in disarray: cookie crumbs, a wadded up T-shirt, and an empty THC seltzer can. Athena is nestled among the sheets in a pair of green briefs. On her side, she stares at the screen, awkwardly using her left hand on the touchpad while her right handles her clit. She’s wet and feeling good.

She finishes reading a post, and it’s two clicks to go back, but only one to click to get to a related story. Athena doesn’t want more stuff about women and their moms, but two clicks seems like too much effort. She taps one from Soccergrill69, who writes about her mom catching her masturbating.

Athena pulls her eyes away from the screen and rolls onto her back, digging in and running her hand over her belly. The squishy noises are obvious as the tip of her middle finger makes swift circles on her clit. Her toes curl, and she bends her knees. Smutty stuff on the internet isn’t doing it. She does what she always does and kicks her imagination down the staircase of her mind to her college days. Initiations with the Sybian at CCL House. A few hookups, one or two of them with inexperienced freshmen. She remembers one really cute girl, and looking her in the eye as she used a vibe on her.

“Mmm.” Her lower half wiggles, and she rolls onto her side, legs together and humping her fist. She finishes on her belly and then lies flat, breathing the scent of the sheets in the afternoon sunlight.

There’s nothing stopping her from dozing off except her self-respect, which isn’t what it used to be. She sighs and picks herself up, crawling arduously off the bed and going to the dresser, where tickets and photographs are stuck to the frame. She picks up her phone and checks the time, then goes back and moves the laptop. She yanks the crumb-filled sheets off and puts them in a laundry basket, then brushes a few crumbs off her bare chest. She pauses in front of the mirror again, looking critically at her boobs. 34 is only a few weeks away, and existential horrors surround her like burly men around a blonde, barely-legal in a porn thumbnail. She swallows and goes into the bathroom, where she is hardly aware of the hers and hers sinks or the huge, walk-in shower as big as a California king. Marble and golden fixtures gleam. She hates this house.

Athena peels off her damp panties and looks at the pale brunette in the mirror. She should pick up her razor and do some grooming, but she doesn’t. She just drags herself into the shower, and even that feels like a heroic act.

ATHENA’S STORY

The office isn’t great with its black faux-leather furniture and fake plants. The prints on the walls of calming landscapes are probably AI-generated. Why is there a Keurig that obviously hasn’t been used ever? What’s the point of it?

Athena sits across from Piper Dunham, wearing mom jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hair is up so carelessly that it almost looks good.

Piper, meanwhile, is put together. Her dark hair is freshly curled, and her side pin is impeccable. Athena’s not sure about her glasses, but she pulls off high-waisted slacks better than most, maybe because she’s so busty. Of all the things that have taken a lot of effort today, the most difficult is not fantasizing about this woman.

Athena’s hands are clasped in her lap, and her wedding ring gleams. So does Piper’s, and there’s a framed photo of Piper and her wife on the desk in the corner.

Piper holds her pen and legal pad, but never writes anything. “Symptoms of depression are normal after what happened to you.”

“Can I have some Zoloft or something?” Athena asks, looking out the window.

“You don’t need meds. There are three things that are going to help in the short term. Think in helpful ways. This isn’t a catastrophe; it’s a chance to start something new. Telling yourself that won’t make you believe it, but it’s how you start. You need to get some exercise.”

Athena’s eye twitches. She knows that. It’s just not that easy. “What’s the third one?”

“It’s time to make a move. Thinking in helpful ways, exercise, and personal agency. These three things will do a lot more for you than meds will.”

Athena rubs her face. “Yeah.”

“Of course, all of those things require at least some effort, and depression sucks the motivation out of you so that you’re playing on hard mode. There is that. It wouldn’t hurt for your wife to give you a little push. Are you still pretending you’re fine?”

“Yup.”

“Are you a good enough actress to pull that off?”

“Nope. But she’s too busy to notice.”

“Lots to unpack there. But you aren’t ready.”

Athena bristles. “Says who?”

“You got laid off. You got pushed out by AI. There’s more to it than that, but the bottom line is that you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last. Might not even be the last time this happens to you personally. Eating cookie dough, day drinking, and watching Ru Paul is fine for a while, but I think that time’s up.”

Athena scowls. “You only got two out of three right.”

“I’m just a therapist.” Piper examines her nails. “You’re lucky, Athena. Your wife makes plenty of money. You don’t need a job. But you need something. Work. Or at least a hobby, and it’s urgent because your PHQ scores are just gonna get higher and your liver’s not going to like it.”

“I’ve actually switched to weed drinks.”

Piper ignores that. “It’s time to make a move. It doesn’t matter if you’re honest with me; the remedies work just the same, even if you aren’t. We know where you’re at. The question is what you’re going to do about it.”

Athena knows the truth when she hears it. She’s spent almost a month feeling sorry for herself, although it looks like Piper knows damn well this isn’t about her job. She drums her fingertips on the arm of her chair. Just like in business, just like in the old days at CCL, she can’t win by doing nothing. Hell, she’s spent her whole life judging people for doing just that.

Should Athena find a job?

Or a hobby?