Jennie glances at her watch. Today is a big day for her. She enters the hospital in her heels, strutting to the reception and flashing the badge on her lanyard. The receptionist, a stout and gauche woman with a nefariously hairy double chin, peers at her from scratched glasses that need a clean.

            “Jennie Kim,” she mutters. “Right, you’re with Mr Park's neurosurgery group. I’ll give their resident a call, and he’ll come pick you up.”

Jennie sighs. She taps her foot impatiently and surveys the clean hospital. It is like looking at a two-faced person. The clean white walls hide the smell of death, sickness and sorrow. She wonders why she should become a doctor someday. Yes, her grades are amazing, but that does not equate to her terrible interpersonal skills.

            People walk by, staring at the spiralling steps that lead to the clinics, or to the shop to grab a fizzy drink, or to the reception, where they reveal a letter between shaking fingers. Jennie grabs her phone and scrolls through her messages. Her best friend’s message pops up.

            Good luck on your first day!

The stamp of a smiley face displays before her, as if in mockery. Jennie rolls her eyes. The receptionist is still on the phone while she scribbles into her diary.

            “Excuse me,” Jennie says. “Umh, I’m just gonna head to the café and grab a quick coffee.”

            The receptionist delivers a stolid nod, before resuming to write.

Jennie frowns to herself. She saunters over to the café next to the newsagent. There is a queue in the line. She continues to go through her messages, occasionally replying, occasionally moving with the crowd. Her phone drops when she bumps into the customer in front of her.

            The young man gasps. He bends in synchrony and their hands touch as they both aim for the phone. Jennie retracts, eyes wide with embarrassment.

            He chuckles, before taking her phone, wiping it with his sleeve and handing it to her. He regards her lanyard. “Ah, you’re a medical student?”

            They take a step towards the counter as the queue subsides.

“Final year,” Jennie tells him. He watches her beneath giant lashes and wide, almond-shaped eyes. He smiles again, large teeth flashing and his features almost child-like and innocent. It causes her to hold her breath for a brief second.

            “Brave girl,” he says. “I’m also in my final year of university, but I’m studying finance. Not very exciting.”

“Well, if it helps you, I’m not sure if I’ll make a great doctor. Sometimes I think I’d be better off as a model.”

            He perks a brow. “A model?” He glances at her height, and his sneaky smile causes her to bite her tongue.

            “Just saying,” she says, hiding the irk in her tone. “Shouldn’t you be in lectures anyways?”

“Me? I’m here to visit someone.” His hands sink into the pockets of his jeans. He pretends to kick the ground with his clean runners. “Besides, it’s such a lovely morning in October. I can’t miss it for the world. Could I get you a coffee?”

            Jennie hesitates as his question sinks in. Guy is about her age. He is not ugly. He asks if he could buy her a coffee. Coffee equates to a date. Date will eventually mean his number. His number means potential boyfriend material. She squirms and shudders, her reaction evoking laughter from