Aphmau's POV

*Play Song*

Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations. Philosophy usually helps when it comes to the bullshit of the world, as if it gave the world reason—an explanation—for its behavior. 

And now, after all that bullshit, I'm here.

At Phoenix Grace Hospital.

Katelyn and I enter the bustling conference room, standing amidst the crowd of our future competition.

A man in navy scrubs enter the room, rectangular glasses propped on the bridge of his crooked nose, accompanied by brown tousled hair. He stands proudly at the front of the room, staring down every one of us.

Some lines were taken directly from the show Grey's Anatomy, I do not claim the creativity of these lines.

"Welcome to the Phoenix Grace Surgical program, one of the foremost surgical programs in the country and taught by world-class surgeons." The man declares. "All of you may be here now, but not all of you will make it. Some of you will quit, many will transfer to an easier specialty." 

"Look around you, this are your competition."

We look around, I find Katelyn.

She waggles her eyebrows comically. I stifle a laugh.

"We will assign you to your residents now." The man's gaze drops to the clipboard in hand. "Katelyn Firefist, Travis Vulcrum, Aphmau Phoenix, and Garroth Ro'mave. You're with Lucinda Bailey."

Katelyn and I leave the room with the two men, finding a woman with silky orange hair draped over her shoulder, and her arms crossed. Oh boy. 

"I have 5 rules, memorize them " The stout, curvy woman—Lucinda—states, with a daunting leer  that skipped between the four of us.

People must love staring at this place. 

"Don't bother sucking up—I already hate you and that's not gonna change." She says impassively as she marches down the hospital hallways, stopping at the nurse's station.

Lucinda rests briefly against the counter; Pagers, notebooks, and a variety of papers neatly arranged before us.

"Trauma protocols, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you. You answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule 2." She states as we grab everything off the counter and continue to power walk after the unapologetically, nimble woman.

Katelyn gives me a look, like the she's-batshit-crazy-and-we-are-screwed-face.

"Your first shift starts now and last 48 hours. You're interns, grunts, no-bodies, the bottom of the surgical food chain. Run labs, write orders, work every second night until you drop and don't complain."

Dr. Bailey halted in front of a room with a label reading, On-call room.

"On call rooms; Attendings hog them; sleep when you can, where you can. Which brings me to rule 3: If I'm sleeping, don't wake me unless your patient is actually dying."

"Rule 4: The dying patient better not be dead when I get there. Not only would you have killed someone, but you would have also waked me for no good reason. Are we clear?"

The blond one I perceived as Garroth Ro'mave, raised an awkward hand and spoke: "You said 5 rules, that was only 4."

Dr. Bailey shot Garroth an expression I feel I would only become too familiar with in the coming future. She then, whilst striding out of the room, said: "Rule 5: When I move, you move."

We chased after her, adjusting our pagers and notebooks like clumsy teenagers. 

Then I saw something...

I froze as just outside the confines of our patient's room. Nothing worked nor listened to me in my traitorous body except the deafening hammer of my heart against my ribs. 

With my lips ajar, my brain short circuited my major organs began to abandon me at the precarious

The attending standing in the room—no, it couldn't be. But it was. 

The face. The eyes.

Who is dat?

You probs know.

Have a nice day my crystals!