DDG Vol.1: The Vile Of Transilience

Maybe It's Me...! Halle said to herself ?

Walking into the lobby…

Therapy was not the answer but it was a start into accepting everything and dealing with all DDG had did this time! ( He had gone to far this time)

The waiting room was tastefully bland, a soft hum of an air was the only sound besides the distant city murmur. (subtracting out all the people talking and existing around her bubble)

For Halle Bailey, whose life usually thrummed with the electrifying chaos of film sets, recording studios, and adoring crowds, the quiet was almost deafening. She felt a pang of unease, a familiar gnawing anxiety that had been her constant companion for months, now amplified by the stark reality of where she was: in a therapist’s office sitting on a hot green couch .

(After placing her hair up into a bun, Halle looks down at her book of all the wonders and questions to what was a concern to her)

When the door finally opened, a woman with kind eyes and a name tag that read "Dr. Thorne" offered a gentle smile.

Thorne: Halle? Come on in!

(Halle followed, her shoulders tense)

The therapist's office was warm, filled with soft light and a faint, calming scent of lavender.

Dr. Thorne gestured to a comfortable armchair opposite her own.

Thorne: So, what brings you here today, Halle? (Dr. Thorne's voice was calm, non-judgmental.)

Halle took a deep breath, her carefully constructed public persona threatening to crack.

Halle: My boyfriend, she began, the words feeling foreign and heavy on her tongue.

Halle: It’s… everything. He’s… I don’t even know where to start.

Dr. Thorne nodded patiently! (Remembering all he saw last night on the news)

Thorne: Take your time…There's no rush.

Halle slumped back into the chair, her gaze fixed on a potted plant in the corner.

Halle: It started subtly, I think? With the time… My schedule is insane, you know? And he still tries with all his brain lets him understand, but he really care only about hearing his name being screamed.

Halle: Then the calls become less frequent, or they’re shorter. And when we are together, it feels like we’re trying to cram months of living into a few days, and it just… explodes into him showing halo nothing but rage and horror from a lost Stephen king novel.

She paused, recalling a recent argument.

Halle: He says I’m never fully present?

Halle: How do Halo get feed then? (Halle joked in all her venting to Dr. Thorne!)

Halle: That I’m always thinking about the next thing, the next flight, the next meeting. And maybe he’s right. But it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just… my life is a whirlwind.

Dr.Thorne: Is DDG life the same?

A tear traced a path down her cheek!

Halle: And then there’s the pressure…Everyone has an opinion on our relationship, On him, on me, on us.

Halle: If we post too much, it’s ‘performative, If we don’t post, it’s ‘they’ve broken up!

Halle: He feels it too, I know!

Halle: By how DDG gets defensive, or he withdraws, And then I feel like I'm not doing enough, or I'm doing too much, or I'm just… ruining things for both of us.

Dr. Thorne listened intently, occasionally jotting a note down.

Thorne: It sounds like you're navigating immense external pressures on your relationship, as well as the natural challenges that come with demanding careers and personal growth.

Halle nodded, relief washing over her that someone understood.

Halle: It’s more than that, though. I feel like… like I’m losing myself in trying to manage it all. I want to be the supportive girlfriend, the successful artist, the good sister to Chloe, the perfect public figure, And somewhere along the line I'm not sure who I am anymore.

Halle: And he… he loved the Halle before all of this stress now, I think?

Thorne: Who was that?

Halle: The quieter Halle!

Halle: Sometimes I would catch him looking at me during our meet ups, and it’s not adoration, it’s… confusion. Or disappointment.

Halle voice cracked: We argue about stupid things, Who put out more, Why he didn’t text back right away when he has Hallo. But it's never about the trash. It's about trust, or feeling abandoned, or the feeling of being unseen by the man i let get me pregnant.

Halle: He says I don’t listen when he means annoying his short fuse, and I say he doesn’t understand. And then we just… shut down all hope of anything coming out of it all. Or we say things we don’t mean.

Thorne: And what do you want from DDG, Halle?" Dr. Thorne asked gently. "What do you hope to achieve with his feelings?

Halle took a shaky breath!

Halle: I want to understand what’s happening.

Halle: Is it him? Is it me? Is it just… us? And can we fix it? Or do I need to figure out how to be okay, even if we can’t? I don't want to lose him, but I also don't want to lose me...like i almost did in court!

Dr. Thorne offered a reassuring smile.

Thorne: Those are very brave questions to ask. It sounds like you're feeling a deep sense of disorientation and emotional exhaustion. We can work through this. We can explore the patterns in your communication, the impact of external pressures, and most importantly, help you reconnect with your own needs and boundaries. This space is for you, Halle. To unpack all of it, without judgment.

Thorne: Remember That!

As the session continued, Halle felt a fragile hope bloom in her chest. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't performing with a wall up. She was just Halle, vulnerable and messy, and someone was listening, truly listening, and helping her untangle the knots in her heart. It wasn't a magic fix, but it was a start. And for now, that felt like everything.

Halle closed her eyes and took Dr. Thorne out the chair and in her mind, back in time to everything she wanted to get off her chest!

The silence in the apartment was raw, heavier than the expensive air conditioning.

DDG ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, the last words of the argument still ringing in his ears, Halle Bailey’s fierce, hurt gaze burned into his memory.

Halle: You never listen, Pontiac, Halle said, her voice trembling in the repeating of it all with her eyes close.

Halle: It's always about you, your brand, your next BIG thing!

DDG: What about my feelings, Halle?" he'd shot back, immediately regretting the sharp edge.

Halle: You think I don't care?

DDG: I'm trying to build something for us!

Halle just shaken her head, a tear tracing a path down her cheek for Dr. Thorne

before Halle disappearing into her study, the door clicking shut with a finality that felt like a slammed coffin lid.

DDG paced the polished floors, a knot of frustration and regret tightening in his stomach. He kicked aimlessly at a bunch of discarded dusty bookshelf. Something clinked. Annoyed, he bent down, expecting a loose coin.

Instead, his fingers closed around a small, ornate glass vial.

Before DDG released the vile on the white table, he felt the world burn, death .

It was no bigger than his thumb, made of dark, swirling glass that seemed to hold miniature galaxies within it.

A tarnished gold stopper topped it, and as he turned it over, the glass pulsed with a faint, internal luminescence. It wasn't just old; it felt ancient. And strangely… potent.

DDG: What in the…?" he murmured at a strange tingling sensation spreading through his palm. He vaguely remembered buying a box of strange curios from an online auction weeks ago and just tossing them in the corner.

DDG: This must have been one of them? (He thought to himself)

His mind, still reeling from the fight, latched onto the vial.

DDG: If only I could go back, he thought, just five minutes. I wouldn't have said that. I would have listened.

As the thought solidified, the vial flared, a blinding white light erupting from within it…

The books become magazines and all the people from every place in the world that ever held the vile before him, pointing and watching DDG wish coming true.

DDG gasped, dropping it, but it clung to his fingers like static, as his hand became broken clock, turning silver and everything 5 mins back!

The apartment around him blurred, stretched, then snapped back into focus!

He was still in the living room, but something was different. The scent of coffee hung in the air, not the stale silence of minutes ago. He heard voices from the kitchen. One was Halle’s, bright and laughing.

"…and then he tried to do the worm!" she giggled.

DDG strode towards the kitchen door, cautiously peering in. Halle was there, dressed in a faded oversized hoodie, leaning against the counter, talking animatedly on the phone.

And across from her, just as he remembered, was himself – the DDG of an hour ago, scrolling on his phone, occasionally grunting in response.

This was it. The very morning of the argument. He saw the exact coffee mug he'd later knock over in frustration. He saw the way his past self barely looked up as Halle tried to share a funny anecdote from her day.

This was the moment the tension began to simmer.

DDG 2: Halle, the past DDG mumbled,

DDG 2: you mind just keeping it down a little? I'm trying to focus here."

DDG's heart pounded. This was his chance! He squeezed the vial. Stop him! Make him listen!

He tried to whisper, "No, man, don't say that!" but no sound came out. He tried to physically grab his past self, but his hand passed right through. He was a ghost.

He could only watch, helpless, as the scene played out again!

Past DDG said his dismissive line. Past Halle’s smile faltered.

The easy morning mood evaporated, replaced by a subtle chill, he saw his past self retreating to the living room, picking up a script, and then, a few hours later, the argument escalating.

The vial pulsed furiously in his hand again, and the world lurched.

He was back in the now-silent living room, the immediate aftermath of the fight.

The knot in his stomach was still there, but now it was laced with a chilling helplessness.

DDG couldn't change the past.

Okay, DDG thought, a desperate new idea forming “If I can't fix the past, maybe I can see the future. See if we work it out. See if… he swallowed hard, …if it all falls apart?

He focused on a future where he and Halle had broken up. A future where his career soared, but his personal life was empty of real love.

The vial glowed, brighter this time, almost scalding his palm with a release of smoke.

The apartment shimmered, changed. It was still his, but different. Sleeker, colder, more minimalist. There were no personal touches, no half-finished art projects that Halle always had lying around.

The air felt… empty as the house collected trash over memories in what was once a library…

DDG saw himself in the reflection of a massive, black-screen TV. as he takes a squat to think.

DDG was older, perhaps a bit more weary around the eyes, though dressed in designer clothes. He looked… successful And profoundly alone.

(Suddenly his music video “Less Time, More Money” started playing on the tv)

He moved through the apartment…entering the living room… Shocked by what he saw, DDG took a seat on the Coffee Cream Couch !

There was an email open on a tablet: "Congratulations on your latest Grammy, DDG!"

DDG was still winning, still making hits, But there was no Halle?

He found an old magazine on a coffee table. The cover featured Halle. She looked radiant, mature, holding a tiny hand.

The headline read: "Halle Bailey: Finding Her Own Voice, Her Own Family."

His heart twisted. She was happy. She had moved on. With someone else. With a family! (…Halo !)

The silence in this future apartment was deafening, amplified by the success that felt utterly hollow without her.

He recognized the ache in his chest—a profound, gut-wrenching regret.

This wasn't the future he wanted…This wasn't success. It was a gilded cage of solitude over having what he thought he wished for!

The vial pulsed one final, almost mournful flash!

DDG gasped, clutching his chest, back in his present apartment, the glass vial, now dull and inert, slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor. It rolled under the couch, its magic seemingly spent.

He stood there, trembling, the echoes of two alternate realities warring in his mind?

He couldn't change what he'd said moments ago, and he certainly didn't want that lonely future he'd just witnessed.

What was left? The present… The messy, painful, immediate present?

He walked to Halle’s study door. The click earlier had been a statement, but it wasn't a permanent lock. Not yet.

He hesitated, then slowly, gently, turned the knob. The door opened a crack. Halle was at her desk, facing away from him, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

He didn't try to go back to the past and unsay the words. He couldn't. He didn't try to jump forward and beg for a different future. That was too late or too uncertain.

He simply walked in, quietly, and knelt beside her chair. He didn't touch her immediately.

DDG; Halle, he said, his voice raw, stripped of ego and defensiveness.

DDG: I… I just realized something. Really realized it.

She flinched, pulling away slightly, but didn't tell him to leave.

DDG: You're right, he continued, his voice thick with emotion.

DDG: You're right, I haven't been listening…Not really! I've been so caught up in… everything else… And I let my own insecurities, my own ego, get in the way of what matters most.

He paused, taking a shaky breath.

DDG: You matter most, Halle. More than any brand, any song, any number one hit. Seeing a world without you… it's not a world I want to live in.

Halle slowly turned, her eyes red-rimmed, but a flicker of surprise, then something akin to hope, entered them. He wasn't arguing. He wasn't deflecting. He was just… vulnerable.

DDG: I don't know what just happened, he admitted, gesturing vaguely,

DDG but I saw… I saw how bad I've been… I saw what happens if I don't change And I don't want that.

DDG: I want to be better for you, For us, Please… just tell me what you need me to hear. I promise I'm listening this time.

The silence wasn't thick and heavy anymore. It was fragile, pregnant with possibility.

Halle looked at him for a long moment, truly studying his face. Then, very slowly, she reached out and took his hand.

It wasn't a perfect fix, not yet. The hurt wouldn't disappear instantly. But the argument, which moments ago had felt like an unbridgeable chasm, now felt like a difficult, necessary first step. DDG had traveled through time, not to change events, but to change himself.

And that, he realized, was the only power that truly mattered.

Halle swallowed hard. This was it. This was where she sounded utterly, irrevocably insane. “Dr. Thorne,” she started again, her voice barely a whisper,

Halle: I found the vial.”

Dr. Thorne nodded, patiently waiting.

“It’s not just any vial,” Halle continued, her eyes darting around the room as if expecting to see a temporal ripple in the air.

Halle: It’s iridescent, like an oil slick on water, but it pulses with its own light. And when I… when I take a drop of its liquid!

Halle: I…(She trailed off, searching for the words)

“You…drink it??” Dr. Thorne prompted gently.

Halle took a deep, shaky breath with a sharp look at Dr. Thorne

Halle: Yes I jump… I jump through time. Past, present, future. Whenever I want, practically. Or sometimes… when I don’t.”

Silence descended, broken only by the hum of the building’s old air conditioning unit. Dr. Thorne’s expression remained unreadable, a careful mask of professional neutrality.

Halle: I know what you’re thinking…

Halle rushed on, a desperate urgency entering her tone.

Halle: That I’m delusional. That I’m stressed, overworked, hallucinating. I thought so too, at first. But I’ve seen things, Dr. Thorne. Things I couldn’t possibly have known.

She began to recount her story, haltingly at first, then with a torrent of pent-up fear and wonder. She described the first jump – an accidental brush of the vial to her lips during a late-night antique shop browse.

One moment Halle was in the musty present, the next she was standing in the very same shop, but it was bustling with people in Edwardian attire, their laughter echoing from a century ago.

The shock had been physical, a disorienting lurch that left her gasping.

Halle: “I saw my great-grandmother,”

Halle whispered, a tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek.

She was just a girl, maybe ten years old, playing with a wooden doll in the corner.

Halle: I heard her voice, clear as day. It was… beautiful. And heartbreaking, because I couldn’t touch her, I couldn’t tell her anything.”

Then came the future jumps... They were less romantic, more terrifying!

Halle: Glimpses of a desolate cityscape…

(Halle didn't recognize)

Halle: buildings overgrown with strange, bioluminescent moss…

The sheer, crushing loneliness of a timeline she hadn’t yet experienced. Or sometimes, just a few years ahead – seeing herself on a red carpet, but with a haunted look in her eyes, a subtle tremor in her hand she didn’t currently possess.

Halle; It’s not just the jumps themselves,” Halle confessed, her voice thick with emotion.

Halle; It’s what comes after!

Halle: The temporal sickness. Nausea, migraines that feel like my brain is trying to untangle itself. And the dreams of the Blue Dragon & The Wizard.

Halle: Oh, the dreams, Dr. Thorne.

Halle: They’re not dreams; they’re echoes of timelines, fragments of other lives I’ve seen, all crashing into my mind at once.”

She wrung her hands…

Halle: I don’t know what’s real anymore. I’ll be talking to someone, and my mind will flash forward, and I’ll see the next ten minutes of the conversation, or I’ll see a future version of them, or a past version. It’s like my brain is constantly buffering, trying to process too much data.”

Halle: And the isolation,” she added, her voice barely audible.

Halle: Who do I tell? My sister? My friends? They’d think I’ve lost it!

Halle: They’d stage an intervention, I can’t tell anyone. So I just… carry it.

Halle: This incredible, terrifying power DDG still looking for, who knows what he used it for after all this time of having it.

Halle: I’m afraid I’ll break something… I’m afraid I’ll change something vital?

Halle: Or worse, that I’ll get stuck somewhere, What if I jump too far and can’t get back?”

Dr. Thorne finally spoke, her voice measured but not dismissive.

Thorne: “Halle, I hear you. Every word.” She paused, leaning forward slightly.

Thorne: Whether this vial is literal or a very powerful metaphor for a deep-seated anxiety, the feelings you’re describing – the disorientation, the isolation, the fear of losing control, the burden of immense knowledge – these are profoundly real.

Thorne: And they are heavy to carry alone.”

Halle looked up, a glimmer of something akin to hope in her eyes.

Dr. Thorne wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t prescribing immediate medication.

Dr.Thorne: My job,” Dr. Thorne continued…

Thorne: is to help you navigate your reality, whatever that reality may be…If you believe this vial gives you the ability to traverse time, then we need to understand the psychological impact of that.

Thorne; How it’s affecting your sense of self, your relationships, your perception of the world.”

Halle nodded, tears welling again, but this time they felt different – less like fear, more like relief.

Thorne: Tell me more about the vial,

Dr. Thorne said, her gaze steady.

Thorne: Have you tried to get rid of it?

Thorne; Does it always work the same way?”

She reached for her notepad, not to write a diagnosis, but to jot down details.

Thorne: What do you want to do with this power, Halle?

Thorne: Or more importantly, what do you feel you must do?”

Halle pulled a deep, unsure, the weight on her chest slightly lighter. The vial, hidden deep in her bag, seemed to hum faintly, a silent, powerful presence.

For the first time since she’d took it out DDG room, she felt a huge flicker of hope.

She wasn't alone anymore. The journey through time might be hers to make, but at least now, she had someone to talk about it.

But Now What?