“Someone, anyone, introduce her,” Sehun says one day, glancing around the group of interns as they did rounds.

Jason—if she’d remember correctly was the who hit on her when she’d repeatedly showed disinterest—raises his hand, signaling that he was going.

Everyone stays quiet as he speaks, “Lily Heron. She’s eight years old and has been hospitalized since Monday. She’d showed up at the emergency with an upset stomach—pain level around six, or so her mother states. She’s suspected to have a mass in her liver. The results from yesterday’s biopsy will be released this evening.”

Kyungha clears . “In her pancreas,” she says in the stark silence. Everyone turns to her, staring.

Sehun flicks his eyes to her, but there’s no emotion. He isn’t amused, impressed, annoyed—no, he was indifferent. She winces inside. Kyungha was the one to suggest professionalism, so why did she suddenly regret it? It could’ve been her imagination. Maybe she had secretly missed him. Who knew? She sure didn’t.

Jason flushes and begins to protest, “the chart said liver.”

Kyungha narrows her eyes at him. “Read it again.”

Seulgi elbows her, shaking her head. And by her side, Joohyun covers , concealing a laugh.

The mother shifts awkwardly in her seat as Lily, the patient, cluelessly watches in what seems like a strange group of people observing her.

Jason pulls out his iPad. She doesn’t miss the tick in his jaw. With gritted teeth, he bites out, “you’re right. Sorry. That was my bad.”

Sehun doesn’t say much and gives Jason a small reassuring smile. “It happens to the best of us. Are you guys ready to go next door?”

Kyungha is pulled along by her friends as the group of people begins shuffling out of the tiny room.

Before she can move along, Sehun clears his throat, catching the attention of Kyungha, Seulgi, and Joohyun. The three of them stop. “Can I speak to Dr. Do?”

Her friends nod briskly, stepping away and blending into the rest of the interns.

She tries to read his expression. What was he going to say to her? What did they have left to talk about? She couldn’t figure it out, so she resorts to the next best thing. Silence.

“I get that you corrected him out of goodwill, but I’d like it if you can refrain doing that in front of patients,” he tells her, words void of any sentiment.

Kyungha squints at him. His words fly right by her. “Why?”

Sehun sighs. “Because it’s our job to help our patients feel safe. And yes, doctors aren’t perfect, but it’s irresponsible of us to show flaws in front of them. They can be your friend one day, but the next day, they can also be your enemy. Tread carefully.”

“So you want me to shut my mouth?” She didn’t mean for her voice to be so rough, but he was crossing boundaries that he’d never done before. Sehun never used to mind her cynicism and seriousness. Why did it suddenly matter now? Because she told him to get out of her business?

“No, Kyungha. That’s not what I’m saying. You’re misunderstanding—“

He’s calling her by her name. She hasn’t heard that in a while. She feels the weight of his indifference beginning to crush her. “In what way could you possibly make up an excuse? If you want me to stop being a smartass, then say it. Don’t beat around the bush, Oh Sehun.”

His jaw tightens, and he turns his eyes away for a split second to regain his calm. “I haven’t said anything to you because you’re Kyungsoo’s little sister, but from now on, I expect you to be respectful to me. Don’t ever speak to me like that again. I’m your superior, Kyungha.”

She smiles bitterly. There he was. This was the Sehun who drew boundaries. The Sehun she wanted. No, this was the Sehun she’d thought she wanted. Kyungha was wrong again. And this time, she wasn’t pissed at him. Only disappointed in herself.

“Why now?” Her question comes out tiny and airy. And it was a stupid question. She already knew the answer. But maybe Kyungha just wanted him to confirm what she already knew.

He doesn’t look at her. The silence is disheartening. “Because it’s what you want, and I’m tired of this—your behavior, how many times you’ve resisted. I tried, Kyungha. I tried to understand you. I tried to fix our friendship, but you—you made it ing impossible. You don’t want a friend. You don’t want an older brother. You don’t want me.”

No. She’d wanted to say, but her voice didn’t work when she’d needed it to.

“So there you go, I’m done. Just as you are,” he finally answers after a long beat.

Nothing. There was nothing in the world that prepared her for his answer. The sharp awareness stabs right through her, ripping everything away. And it’s as if her wound had been reopened. And that’s what it felt like. Honestly. The stitches have come undone. Her blood begins to race, and Kyungha’s dizzy. It simply feels like pints of blood rushing out of the injury at once. There was no waiting. It was immediate. The visceral spurt of blood.

Then, it becomes hard to breathe. Her lungs ache, begging for an escape.

Kyungha nods, in a breath because she’d just now realized that she hadn’t been breathing. “Okay,” she finally answers, dropping her gaze.

“We should head back,” he urges, and for the first time since she’d begun working, Kyungha really didn’t want to be here.

The loud clatter of a tray slams down in front of her. Kyungha’s fork stops in midair.

Joohyun stiffens beside her. “What do you want, Jason?”

He lets himself sit down, ignoring her. With a smug smile, he faces Kyungha straight on instead. “So, earlier—when we were doing rounds. That was pretty ing impressive.”

Kyungha’s eyebrows lift as she decides to humor him. “Then why do you sound upset?”

He blows out a breath, pushing his hair from his face. “What was your name again? Do Kyungja?”

Seulgi answers, “it’s Kyungha, you dolt.”

Cockily, he turns his head at her. “No one was talking to you, sweet cheeks. Ah, you were the one that Dr. Oh ed right? Congratulations, sticking around people of the same caliber.”

Joohyun tosses down her utensils. “What are you incinerating, ?”

He laughs, throwing his head back. “Ooh, you’re so cute when you try to act tough, Irene. But you can stop fooling yourself because I—“ He pauses to place a hand on his chest. “—can see right through you. You’re still the unconfident girl I knew back in high school. That’s why you hang around these girls, especially Kyungha. And honestly, you would think that you’d actually learn something from her, but you’re still the same, boring girl. So, don’t you go ing raise your damn voice at me when you’re a nobody.”

Joohyun flinches as if she’s been slapped. Her friend’s gaze trips and Kyungha felt a flare of anger in her chest. “What’s your ing problem?” She asks, tilting her head as if she just couldn’t conceive how a person could be such an eyesore.

He sputters a nasty laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me clearly,” she retorts, leaning closer.

Jason tenses. “You wanna know what my problem is with you?”

Kyungha nods, pretending to be interested. “Why don’t you have a go at it? Since you think uselessly psychoanalyzing people is entertaining and all?”

His eyes are daggers, piercing through her. But she doesn’t back down. “Fine, baby girl. Since you asked me so nicely, how could I not heed your words?” His voice drips with venom. “Your presence is sickening, but then again, I guess that’s the deal with child geniuses.

You guys can’t adjust to society. Let me take a wild guess—“ He winks, pointing at her. “—you have a tragic backdrop. Do Kyungha, a genius since she was born, was bullied. And here’s another guess. Your parents sent you away to a private school with other entitled kids. And now, here you are in all of your full glory. I’m not jealous of you—“

Kyungha cuts him off with a yawn. “I’m sorry, were you going somewhere with this?”

His eyes become more intense as he a nerve-grating smile. “Oh, you can keep being witty for all I care, but with a brain like that, you’ll be alone. Forever. I can smell the stench of loneliness from here. And let me tell you, it stinks.

I’ll toss you a bone. You’re nothing but a goddamn facade on the surface. You—“ He stabs his index finger at her. “—don’t have a heart. And your mouth is the only defense mechanism you have. I’m not afraid of empty words. You can try to intimidate me, but honey, I’ve got you all figured out.

I’m here to tell you that you can keep your smart mouth to yourself. No one cares. We don’t care about your high IQ. It’s pathetic, seeing you trying to assimilate. You’ve already failed. You picked the wrong crowd to be around. On either side of you, all I see is scum. One ed her superior and the other—“

He shakes his head in contempt as if Joohyun was on another level that he couldn’t bring himself to speak about. Kyungha’s blood boils. “Anyway, I really do applaud you for trying, but I’m sorry to say that you’re just another pretty face with nothing else going on for you.” He clasps his hands together with arrogance. Like he had just delivered an impressive speech that deserved applaud. “And now, it’s my cue to leave. Goodbye, girls. I’ll see you around.”

“Kyungha!” Seulgi shouts, grabbing her arm.

Jason turns, half-step, soaking in the triumph of getting her riled up. To the point that Kyungha looked like she was about to pounce on him. He waves cheekily, blowing her a kiss. Then, he’s gone. Out of their sight. Like he’d never been there in the first place.

She shudders. Kyungha has never been this enraged in her entire life. Not when Kyungsoo missed her graduation. Not when Jungkook spilled soda on her most prized possession. Everything else felt minuscule compared to the pulsing anger that made her mind go blank.

Her veins throb with an excruciating dullness, and she wanted nothing more than to scream. Kyungha wants—no, she craves to snap his neck in half. Her heart is being crushed under her ribcage, seeing Joohyun shaken to tears. And Seulgi may be holding her back, but Kyungha could tell that his words have affected her too. He had no right. He was allowed to be butthurt. She’d give him that, but he had no right to personally attack her friends.

She wasn’t going to let him live, and yet, the most frustrating thing that she had to come to terms with was how fast her anger was dissipating.

In just a blink of an eye, her strength had been sapped right out of her. Her fisted hands drop limply to her side as she begins to regard—really remember what he had said about her.

He had called her a facade. He said she was simply another pretty face. Kyungha trembles, feeling her resolve slowly slipping away from her grasp. As disgusting as his words were, why was it hitting her so hard? Was it because she knew, deep down, that he was probably right about her?

He was right about the bullying. He was right about her being alone. Kyungha knew—yes, she was keenly aware of how supportive Kyungsoo was. How supportive everyone she cared about was toward her. But yes, he’d hit the nail right on her head.

Everyone had always praised her for being smart when she was younger. They showered her with heaps of flattering and pretty words. They dismissed her insecurities because, frankly, what did she have to be insecure about? She was intelligent, driven, and miles ahead of her peers.

Yet inside, she felt empty. Like she wasn’t truly living every now and then. It was as if she was watching her life from a third person’s view.

And Kyungha was starting to become convinced of his heinous words. She was only smart. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about herself that she loved. Hell, he was right about her using her intelligence as a defense mechanism. And it hurt like a motherer that he was able to hit on all of her insecurities just from the surface.

Was she that shallow? Was it that easy to read her?

From one conversation, she was teeth to teeth with her demons again. And now, she had nowhere to run. Kyungsoo had a life. He had a child to take care of. Her mom was too far away. Besides, she’d worked too much, so it was impossible to find the time to call her mom.

The walls that she’d worked so hard to cultivate were crumbling much faster than she could rebuild. First, it was Sehun, and now, she let another man step all over her will. What would be left of her tomorrow? She couldn’t even ing see herself recover from this in the next hour.

Seulgi is the first to speak. “He’s just upset, guys. Take his words with a grain of salt. He isn’t worth the hassle to bother being distressed about.”

Joohyun is pale when she stands. “I think I’m—“ Her voice breaks, but she doesn’t let her tears fall. “I’m going to be in one of the on-call rooms. Page me if there’s an emergency.”

“Joo—“ Seulgi reaches out to the latter, but she walks briskly past them. Kyungha attempts to smile, but Seulgi only looks at her with melancholy and concern. “Kyungie, don’t smile like that. It hurts. Do you…do you want to talk about it?”

Kyungha puts space between them as her friend reaches out to her. She pastes the same smile on her face, the one that doesn’t go to her eyes. The very one she thought she’d mastered, but as her mentality was crumbling away, her lies couldn’t stay intact either. “I’m okay. I don’t have an appetite anymore. I’m just going to head back to work.”

Seulgi sighs. “Okay, babe. Just keep in mind that I’m here okay? I’ll wait.”

Kyungha nods wearily, forcing herself to walk away.

She couldn’t explain why she was standing in front of room 1308. Somewhere along the way, her surroundings blurred. Before she realized what she was doing, she was already there.

When Kyungha turns the doorknob, the room is empty. She drops her gaze in disappointment, but nonetheless, she takes another step.

She swings her long legs over until she was lying on her side on the bunk that Sehun had normally occupied when he slept here. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. Everywhere in here had smelled like him, and it was a double-edged sword. She’d found some relief in the familiarity, but in the same moment, she’d felt utterly alone. Some twisted part within her missed him.

Kyungha imagines his arms tucked around her waist. She imagines being buried in his chest, breathing him in. She imagines listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, submitting to her sweet dreams that he showed up in from time to time.

She couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard she’d try to tell her brain to shut up. It was still whirring, engines blaring. So, when she opened her eyes two hours later, Kyungha still felt fatigued.

Pushing back her hair, she searches for a hairband in her pocket. After tying her hair, she stands to leave.

And it was so damn hard. Kyungha couldn’t fathom how heavy her legs felt because it was in the same pleasant arena of walking through quicksand.

She checks the time on her phone. The blue lights make her vision become spotty, and paired with her exhaustion, it wasn’t pleasant altogether.

Sighing, she slips her phone back into her coat pocket. It was midnight. Kyungha wanders to the emergency room, where she attempts to admit some outpatients, but Suzy insists that Kyungha resembled a train wreck and that the girl needed to go get some shut-eye.

She’d wanted to laugh out loud. If only it were that easy.

So, Kyungha kept walking until she found herself in front of Dani’s room. When she peers through the door, Dani had looked like she was asleep.

She closes the door quietly behind her, padding into the dark room. She plops down by the younger’s bedside. Kyungha reaches to a finger over Dani’s cheekbones.

This was the next best thing to being home. Kyungha knew she could feel more like herself after being around kids. She snorts quietly. Taeyong’s done a number on her. His brattiness must’ve scrambled her brains.

“Aren’t you lonely?” She whispers, not particularly speaking to anyone. “Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen your parents around. It’s kind of ed up that you had to spend your Halloween with me. Well—erm, since it’s come to my attention that I’m not very fun to be around.

And honestly? You are by far the strangest girl I’ve ever met. How can you still smile, knowing your illness? I’m kind of impressed by you because it turns out a prepubescent girl is stronger than me. How pathetic, right?

Christ, I’m only twenty, and I’m acting like the world is ending—“ She chokes on a humorless laugh. “—when your time is ticking away. It pisses me off. How…unfair the world is. If I could trade with you, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You’re beautiful and sweet and you deserve to see the world.

Though I’m more worried you’ll turn out like me. Cynical and forever disappointed by the oh-so-endless heartbreak life gives.

Honestly, what am I doing right now? I don’t even know why I’m here. I—“

Kyungha jumps out of her skin when she feels tiny fingers clasp onto her hand. Her jaw falls open when she realizes that Dani’s probably heard every bit of her pitiful monologue.

She stares at Dani. Dani stares back. With a soft smile, Dani pushes herself up, wrapping her arms around Kyungha’s neck.

And suddenly, Kyungha’s hit by so many emotions at once. It’s embarrassing.

“I’m never admitting that I’m actually being comforted by a little kid, by the way,” she murmurs.

Dani giggles, patting her back. And maybe, this was what Kyungha needed. Someone who could offer her another perspective.

She didn’t feel completely better, but she’d also be lying if she said that playing Pictionary until dawn wasn’t fun.

After Dani falls back to sleep, Kyungha finally leaves the space she’d grown quite comfortable with during these past weeks.

Whenever she had time, she’d always visit Dani to read her bedtime stories. It was as much of a comfort to Dani as it was to Kyungha. It made her feel like she was around her nieces and nephews. She was back in the jungle that ironically, she’d wanted to get away from.

Her phone buzzes as she receives a frantic text message from Seulgi.

Kyungha rushes to the emergency room where Seulgi, Jason, and Sehun were standing. The atmosphere was heavy, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for whatever came next.

“Kyungha was supposed to be in charge of receiving outpatients.” She hears Jason’s flat out lie.

Kyungha saunters up beside them, and Sehun turns to acknowledge her presence. “What’s wrong?” She questions, glancing between everyone.

Sehun pinches his temple. “A patient came in with a two or three minutes ago. If I hadn’t gone out here to check, he would’ve died. He was convulsing on the floor, and there was no one here.”

She flinches. “Is he—is he okay now?”

Jason glares at her, “no thanks to you.”

Seulgi shoots him a look. “Jason, be civil. I’m sure Kyungha didn’t mean to leave the place unattended.”

Sehun shakes his head, directing harsh eyes at her. His normally straight eyebrows were scrunched together. He was angry, truly angry. “Are you here for entertainment?”

She falters, not sure how to even respond to his question. “Of course not, I—“

“Then why—tell me why—educate me on the 'common sense' that you used when you left the ER unattended.”

Kyungha swallows, but it didn’t help. was still dry. She was emotionally drained, and she didn’t how much emotional abuse she could take within twenty hours.

Seulgi jumps to help. “Dr. Oh, you’re being too harsh on her. She’s—“

Sehun glowers. “It’s either that or she has blood on her hands from negligence,” he spats unkindly.

Kyungha’s breath hitches and Jason notices. There’s a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Why did you have to run your mouth earlier and act like you were above us when you failed to do the simplest task?” He postulates, further rubbing salt on her wound.

Seulgi is shaking when she turns to him. “Stop it! Y-you’re the worst! You don’t get to say that! Dr. Oh, he was badmouthing Kyungha—“

Sehun holds out a palm to stop her. “What goes on outside is between you all. Leave it out of work. I don’t want any excuses. A man almost died, and it could’ve been on her.”

Kyungha’s vision wobbles. She wasn’t sure if she was going doozy or she was actually trembling. Seulgi protests again, but this time, it’s Kyungha who shakes her head.

“Don’t.” She offers her friend a weak smile. “He’s right. It’s my fault. That was negligence on my part. You don’t have to stand up for me.”

Jason sneers, but she ignores him. Kyungha didn’t have much dignity left. She’d been trampled on since the beginning of her long, wretched shift.

And the most painful offender was the man in front of her.

The man she’d always thought would take her side. But again, Kyungha was wrong, and she’d seemed to be getting too comfortable in that position.

So today, she would take the blame because frankly, she was done. And it’s also when she realizes her biggest mistake. Believing that she could be unscathed when Sehun stopped being considerate toward her.

She hangs her head, waiting for him to say something. “Write a five-page reflection. I want it by tomorrow morning,” he decrees.

Kyungha nods, proceeding to spin around on her heels. She places a hand over her heart, attempting to feel it beat. Just how much more could she take until nothing was left? She could only pray it was enough to last her through the internship.