"So, you're telling me that on your literal first day, you helped manage a cardiac arrest?" Dawn's mouth fanned open as she wolfed down the crumbs remaining in her salt and vinegar packet of crisps; the metallic sound of the aluminium foiled bag crinkling. "You lucky bitch!"

"I don't know if I'd call myself lucky," Caliana despondently snivelled. "I don't even know if I'd even say I actually helped. I mean, Doctor Rhys didn't seem to think so."

Roscoe rocked his hand back and forth erratically in the air, waving her concerns away. "Don't worry about him, he's just a Capullo. If it weren't for you, the cardiac arrest team wouldn't have gotten there so quickly – you helped put out the call."

"Roscoe's right." Dawn agreed unhurriedly. "But you do have to work with Dr Rhys pretty much every day for a year. And he does hold the most control over you passing at the end of the year, so you should start to think about how you're going to put things right." She licked her index finger, before swiping it along the empty foil bag, ensuring not a single granule of the savoury snack escaped her salivary glands. "Especially since you're not even in the medical directors good books after the late start and all."

Dawn, Roscoe, Caliana and Amari currently resided on a semi-circular, food-stained table in the hospital's canteen. It was little more than a sensory explosion; plastic trays clangoring against the tables, knives and forks screeching against plates and teeth, with the occasional belch echoing from across the commodious room. But more than that, it seemed to be today's cosseted location for all things hospital gossip.

"How do I fix this? I didn't actually do anything wrong, and it feels like everyone's already made their minds up about me!"

"Look, from where I'm standing you have two options here." Roscoe swivelled toward Caliana, but she didn't overlook how his eyes frequently deviated away from her. Turned out, Roscoe had a serious case of wandering eye syndrome. Every time a girl strutted past their table — it didn't seem to matter what she looked like —Roscoe offered them a smouldering gaze. Now, he held his index and middle finger up to demonstrate his point. First, he pushed his index finger down. "Option one, you could fake your own death. I hear it's really not that hard to do, get yourself a new identify and move to another hospital, or —"

"Or?!" Caliana gasped. "I'll take option two, whatever it is it's got to be better than option one."

"Or you could just accept that you're going to fail the year."

"Listen, maybe this is a silly suggestion." Amari let out a hesitant laugh. "But why not just speak to Dr Rhys again? Explain to him how nervous you were; like you said it's our first day, it's understandable. And you couldn't have possibly known where things were located in a hospital you've never even set foot in? If he's got any sense, he'll understand and maybe, you could both just start again?"

Dawn shook her head in response. "Amari, that definitely won't work. Callie, why don't you try getting in with the nurses, instead? You could convince the nurse in charge you're their long-lost daughter and that way you'll least have the nurses on your side even though the doctors might not like you?"

"This really isn't helping!" Caliana massaged the pulps of her fingers to her temples in small circular motions. "Amari's right. I'm just going to talk to him. I mean, how bad could it possibly be?"

"Wow." Dawn feigned wiping a tear from beneath her eyes. "You'll be remembered for your bravery."

"Oh, man!" Roscoe threw his hands up. "I was kind of hoping I'd at least get the chance to sleep with you before the end of the year. I'm going to need to think up a new New Year's resolution now."

"How is that your News Years' resolution? It's August!" Caliana quizzed, and then held a hand out in objection before he could offer an explanation. "Actually, don't even answer that. Just know, it's not going to happen." She swerved back towards Amari who was spooning his Shepherd's pie into his mouth with a rather disgusted appearance curved onto his lips — whether that was from the conversation or the displeasing contents of the pie was yet to be determined. "Tell me I'm doing the right thing, Amari."

"Well, between faking your death and outright lying about your heritage, it's definitely the right thing to do. You'll be fine. I'm sure Dr Rhys will understand." He assured her, offering her a feeble thumbs-up sign.

___

Caliana waited outside the door with a golden-tinted plate denoting that it was Dr Rhys, Dr Chopra, and Dr Gerrard Ali's shared office. She inhaled a sharp breath, in and out repeatedly until she was borderline conducting a meditation session outside the office.

She placed her knuckles against the plate, and knocked once. But when no answer came, she knocked repeatedly with more assertiveness. She was almost certain she could hear the pitter-pattering of feet inside, before the door finally flung open.

"Hi, Dr Rhys." She offered him her most convincing smile; one that extended up to the corner of her eyes, the buccal muscle of her cheeks aching as a result. She leant back as the redolent smell of Coffee infiltrated her nares. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought someone had bathed themselves in cocoa beans in the room.

He lunged against the doorframe, and only then did she realise how his frame seemed to tower over her, only adding to the element of intimidation. He exhaled, the right corner of his mouth slightly upturned as he searched her build. "I haven't had the pleasure of a foundation doctor stalking me yet. So, this will be an interesting one for a books."

Caliana crinkled her nose in disdain, but held her tongue. "I'm not stalking you. I just came to say...to say...hi?"

"Oh, well, in that case — Hi." He offered a slight sarcastic wave before flinging the door shut in her face. She gasped, and immediately began banging against the door with far more fervour.

The door hurled open once again. "Look, what do you want? Would you like an award for being the most irritating foundation doctor to exist because, my god, you can have it. You can have anything you want if you just leave me alone."

"I just want to explain what happened earlier!" She hurried out before he had a chance to shut the door again. "I mean, I haven't even introduced myself to you yet, and you've already formed a negative judgement about me."

"I already told you, I don't care what your name is, okay? If you want people to take an interest in who you are, you need to give them a reason to care. And right now, I see no reasons for me to care about who you are."

"You're my supervisor for this year!" She all but blurted out the words. "So there's your reason! We're going to be working together."

He narrowed his eyes, his index and middle finger pinching the bridge of his nose; the act emphasised a slight dorsal hump at the bridge of his nose. "Of course. Of course it had to be you." He stepped to the side, and held an arm out, gesturing for her to enter the room.

Tentative at first, she dived into the room. It was a palatial sized room, divided into three sections with one desk situated at each triangular corner. The desk farthest to the right had a nameplate denoting that it belonged to Dr Rhys. It also happened to be the unlit side of the room, farthest from the only source of light, and enhanced by the fact that everything in the corner was either charcoal-black or a murky brown. "I erm, I like what you've done with the place. It's very—" she hesitated, wracking her brain for anything pleasant to say, "—macabre."

"Thanks. That's exactly what I was going for." Isaac sat upon his seat, utterly unfazed by her words. He lifted a pair of glasses set on his desk and perched them upon his nose. He waited for her to take a seat opposite him. "Are you comfortable there?"

"Um, yes. Very."

"Good, good. That seat was actually made from the flesh of the last foundation doctor that came in here. He was a decent guy actually. It's a shame to not have him around anymore." He spoke so seriously, an apathetic expression on his face that she hopped up and off the seat for a second. He let out a subdued but amused laugh then. "A joke. Obviously." He cocked his head to the side. "Maybe." He tapped a few keys on the computer in front of him, and then ceased, gazing over at her. "Are you nervous? Does being in the presence of a senior doctor make you nervous?"

"What? No. Not at all." She met his gaze; an icy blue pair of eyes with occasional threads of honey infused within an ocean, offering a mere emblem of warmth.

"Would you like to tell your leg that?" He gestured over to knee that was currently jittering against the rich mahogany wood of his desk. He continued to stare over at her, and for a second, she wondered if he really wanted her to speak to her leg. She overruled the latter idea, and instead placed a solid hand over the knee. "Right. Let me get your portfolio up on here and then, we can get properly acquainted with each other."

She swallowed hard. Maybe this had been a colossal mistake. Even if he had been joking, it didn't ease her nerves. Because, every time he glanced at her, she felt a stake ram itself through her core, as if she were an overheating kebab on a skewer.

"Caliana Monsoon, is it?"

"Just Callie is fine."

"Hmm, why people are so adamant on butchering perfectly fine names is beyond me, honestly." He mumbled to himself more than her. He removed his glasses then, holding them to the side of his face, dropping his thumb down until it tapped against his bottom lip. "Listen, Doctor Monsoon, I'm going to be candid with you. I don't like foundation doctors, and by extension, that means I don't like you. I'm sure you're...pleasant enough. But medical training has become increasingly sloppy recently because the majority of you are poorly trained, and some of you, dare I say, are even a risk to the public. As a registrar, I categorically cannot have that. A patients health and safety should always come first."

She cleared her throat, placing her forearms on the table. "You were a foundation doctor once. I'm sure you didn't have all the answers on day one, did you?"

"We're not talking about me," Isaac conceded. "Earlier you told me, you'd be better. That's not a good enough explanation for doing a shit job. Of course, you'll be better. That should go without saying. But patients lives shouldn't be at risk in the interim until you learn how to properly provide compressions."

"That's not even fair! How can I be good at something I've never done before?"

"You spent five years at medical school, did you not? That should be enough. I'm not asking you to name all the biologic agents for inflammatory bowel disease. But I expect you to be a safe doctor. You took the Hippocrates oath, didn't you?"

She bobbed her head at the rhetorical question. "You're right, I guess. I'll try harder in the future. I'll study in the evenings if I have to."

"You haven't apologised yet."

She pursed her lips, crinkling her nose once more. "I won't apologise for something I've not done before. But I'll try harder to avoid the same mistake."

The corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek as though her reply amused him. "Is that what you're going to say to a patient who's lying in intensive care because of your poor skills, Doctor Monsoon?"

Her head jerked back at his words, her eyes wide. "That—that woman from earlier. Is she in intensive care now?"

Another sign was expelled from his between cardinal red lips. "I was being theoretical. She's fine. Thanks to me, of course."

She tutted and mumbled under her breath. "The word humble must be alien to you, Doctor Rhys."

"Humble is a word used by people who are simply not good enough. But when you're good at what you do, there's no space for being humble. I'm a great doctor. I've worked hard to be where I am. Why shouldn't I be damn proud of it?"

She remained silent, glancing down at her fidgeting fingers that were now rested upon her lap.

"It says here you went to Brampton Wicks Medical School. That's interesting."

"Why?" Caliana enquired. She peered behind her at the door, the idea of making a leap out of the room becoming stealthily more appealing. She half wanted this interaction to be over, but the other half couldn't deny that Dr Rhys did indeed enthral her.

"That's where I studied. I finished there nearly seven years ago now. I'm guessing they lowered the entry requirements since I was there." He mused.

She heaved a gasp at his words. "You are just so pretentious. You know what? I will be a good doctor. And I will be better than you because I have something you don't." She rasped. "Common decency and decorum."

"Oh, wow. Decorum, huh? That's quite a big word for you. Did you learn it last night?" Isaac cocked his head to the side.

She hailed up from her seat in a huff, preparing to leave a lasting impression. But instead, the door opened and in came the man she'd earlier seen who had been introduced as Dr Gerrard Ali— the medical director's son. He wasn't dissimilar in appearance to his father, but his skin was fairer, and he lacked the large moustache. He appeared a few years older than Dr Rhys, conceivably in his early-to-mid thirties.

"Hey Isaac, you alright?" Gerrard hollered before discerning the girl still stood opposite him. "Oh, Callie, wasn't it? You made quite the impression during induction. It's not often one of the new doctors comes late and then swears mid-lecture."

She could almost feel the pink flush gracing the tips of her ears and her cheeks once again. "I'm sorry about that."

Gerrard's body shook with merry mirth. "Hey, it's all good. You made for some good gossip in the Doctor's Mess," he admitted. "You have Doctor Rhys as your mentor? His barks worse than his bite, don't worry."

"I don't know about that. His teeth look pretty gnarly to me." She said through gritted teeth, glaring straight at the doctor in question, earning her yet another slight upturn of his lips.

Gerrard lunged into his seat with a slight bang, unfolding the paper napkin in his hand revealing a cinnamon roll which he plopped into his mouth. "So, Callie, what's the long-term plan? Family medicine?"

She blinked up at his insinuation. "No, why would you assume that?" She didn't await an answer. "I'm actually interested in Dermatology."

"Really?" He spoke while still chewing, the sugar from the bun coating his teeth. "It has a pretty long training programme. It can be difficult to settle down and start a family. General practice offers a really good work-life balance for women."

"Gerrard, please shut up." Isaac said, the amusement from earlier wholly wiped away.

Caliana bolstered her shoulders up straight. "I don't plan on starting a family any time soon. And why should I limit myself to those specialities? We're not in the 1960s anymore, women can go into other fields and be mothers if they want."

"You've got me all wrong, Callie." He held his arms up in defence; providing her with an ample view of his glimmering wedding band. "I didn't mean anything by it. I respect women — I do. I'm just saying, Doctor Chopra is hitting thirty-seven this year, and not a single egg has been fertilised if you know what I mean."

"That's quite enough of that, Gerrard." Isaac objected. "If you have an opinion on Dr Chopra's lifestyle, then you should speak about it when she's here. Don't impose your archaic views on my foundation doctor." Caliana was sure she heard a slight snigger arise from him before he continued. "Have some decorum, will you?"

She fought the grin tugging upon her lips as she recalled their earlier spat. She attempted to turn around and leave but she heard a scribble arise from behind her, before Isaac called out to her.

"Take this before you go."

She swivelled on her heel to face him once again. He held out a piece of paper with his number on it.

She raised her eyebrows in awe. "You're giving me your number?"

"It's only for communication purposes. If you're sick, or something comes up and you can't come into work." He explained. "You can wipe that smug look off your face. Don't go getting excited over a phone number."

And with that, she finally exited the room.

——

A/N- hope you enjoy this chapter!

Please do vote and comment - let me know what you think of the story so far. It's been pretty fun to write as it hasn't required very much research at all!

Hope everyone's doing well.

Oh, for reference - Capullo = colloquially means asshole in Spanish.