She just couldn’t stop smoking. A habit that was formed after a minor setback in the OR, Dr Kim wishes every day that this would be her last hit. But she could never be able to drop this, the same deal of remorse is still tormenting her after five years. I shouldn’t have gone to med school, she thought. Puffing out the smoke, the guilty surgeon crushed the of the cigarette with her shoe. With the red ember gone, the burnt tobacco remains in the air, and her nose scrunches up at the smell. Her phone chimes: she is needed in the ER, stat!

Upon reading the first four words, she sprints through the door of the rooftop and manages to enter the closing elevator, gasping for air as she hit the button. Dr Kim sanitized first, then took out a pair of latex gloves from her coat pocket. The elevator dings and she threw out her white coat in a hurry, dashing for the trauma patient. The first responder briefed the doctors about the injuries.

Jane Doe, 38 weeks pregnant, signs of head and neck trauma.

“Do we know who did this?” the neurosurgeon asked, the familiar calm attitude outweighs the fury she’s currently feeling.

“Unfortunately not, doc. A bystander just saw her wandering outside and she collapsed. Cops assume robbery and assault until they find a suspect,” said the EMT with a disappointed sigh.

“Alright, let’s all move her in 3. One, two, three,” grunts the trauma surgeon. The doctors helped position the Jane Doe in a sanitized and controlled environment.

“Ma’am, do you know where you are?” Dr Kim lightly tapped the woman to wake her up, shining a light to her pupils. This looks bad, she thought to herself. The patient moans, eyes prying open.

“Ma’am, I advise you to not make any sudden movements,” warns another doctor in the room.

“Where, where am I?” the woman panics. She suddenly seizes. The doctors pulled the woman to her side, guarding her head and body from any sharp medical equipment that might harm her.

“She needs a CT scan as soon as possible,” the neurosurgeon says after the seizing stopped.

No further complications, fetus seems to be well oxygenated, and no such issues that’s more important than treating what seems to be subdural hematoma. Dr Kim’s colleagues agreed, letting her and the nurses rush the patient to CT and the operating room as they take on new patients. Gunshot victims came pouring in the emergency department along with first aiders moving with the gurney. One of them being the only familiar face in the room for one person.

The woman on the gurney entered the ER, clutching the blood-soaked jacket on a patient; and hysterical being her primary emotion right now. “Multiple GSWs to the upper chest. He had a cardiac tamponade a-and he needs--,”

“You’re a doctor?” interrupted Dr Choi, another trauma surgeon in the department.

“Yes!” the chestnut-haired woman answered without thinking. She cursed herself in her mind.

“Alright, do what you gotta do,” Dr Choi gave a nod of permission to the EMTs and the gurney was already at the elevator before she could react.

“Uh,” the first aider chuckled nervously as soon as the automatic doors closed. The paramedics and nurses smiled at her, not knowing the disaster she might bring in the OR. The elevator dings for the radiology floor.

Dr Kim, followed by fetal surgeon Dr Lee, approached the anxious man in the waiting room, tirelessly pacing back and forth to hear good news about his wife that was now in postoperative care. “How, how is she? How is my wife?" the metal of the handcuffs clanged as he almost pleads to the doctors in front of him, the cops holding him back.

“She had a severe brain bleed and it almost cost your wife and your baby’s life,” the lead surgeon spoke through a forced smile. Dr Lee looked at her like she had grown new limbs. “But we were able to save them thanks to Dr Lee. They’re both stable now, but we’ll have to see when she wakes up,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

“Taeyeon,” sighed Sunny as the cops the man outside the hospital.

“What? We saved her, didn’t we? They found the abuser and the tiny unborn child also gets to live,” shrugged Taeyeon and she skipped away, leaving the fetal surgeon wondering why she was friends with that weird woman again.

Meanwhile at OR Three with the first aider, the woman was evidently shaking through her gloves and letting out ragged breaths under the mask. “Aren’t you a doctor? We need to open him up now,” urged a surgical tech, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes, yes. Of course!” she blurted out in fake enthusiasm.

She slowly breathed in. It’s just a simple repair. You’ve watched this in the sidelines before, it shouldn’t be difficult. The woman let out a lengthy breath, as if she was cleansing out the butterflies in her stomach, “Let's begin. Bone cutter,”

Calm and composed, she held out her hand and grabbed the heavy saw professionally. The anxious Korean-American woman—"with the face of a Kpop idol"—before was now performing an open-heart surgery on a real person, like it was her hundredth time doing it. Cutting open the sternum with no sweat, the entire procedure went along swimmingly. Almost like a real cardiothoracic surgeon, which she wasn’t.

In some other universe, perhaps. Reality was far different.

“You did amazing, doc," praised the anesthesiologist. "What do we call you?”

“Dr Jung, I’m Dr Jessica Jung,” smiled Jessica with pride.

After signing important papers, Jessica walked out of the hospital and breathed in the humid air, coughing as soon as the smell entered her nostrils. The stench of the damp asphalt mixed with cigarette smoke was sickening, it literally drove her away. She heard some muttering from afar as she power walked off the smoking area.

She hailed a cab and texted her sister about her day with a huge smile.

Her phone rings and she accepts the call, “Yah!” Jessica could almost feel her eardrums bursting. She made a mistake wearing earphones.

“You’ve completely lost it…” says her sister, Krystal on the other line, defeatedly. Not a moment later, she added with eagerness, “How did it feel to hold a real human, beating heart?”

“God, it was sooooo y,” she emphasized in English. She probably annoyed the driver, but who cares when she performed her first surgery!

“I can’t believe I actually faked my way through it,”

“I can imagine the lawsuits—”

“Don’t finish that sentence!” exclaimed the eldest sibling jokingly. Chuckling, she saw the skyscrapers of Seoul, all lit up in the night. Jessica sighed dreamingly, remembering how she led the surgery and saved a life. It was such a wonderful evening.

On the other hand, Taeyeon was not enjoying her night. A sleep-deprived intern gave her the wrong coffee, and she needs the right fuel to function like a normal human at this late hour. "Dr Han, you are not seeing heaven," she relaxed her forced intimidation face that she always uses and took a sip. Hm, not bad. It was a nice blend, sure, but she specifically asked for five espresso shots. And there's too much cream.

“Dr Kim, are you not going home?” asked Dr Han who was on coffee duty.

“Apparently, we’re expecting a few MVC patients. Might take a while, so you should switch out before you confuse more things in my OR,” Dr Kim chuckled. “I’m serious, by the way,” she deadpanned.

“Y-Yes, ma’am. Goodnight,” Dr Han salutes then runs off.

Taeyeon took off her white coat, replacing her outer wear for a medical gown of familiar blue color. She gloves up, hearing the looming sound of ambulance sirens.

“Dr Han said we’re dealing with motor vehicle accidents?” panted a surgical resident. She was short of breath from running out the on-call room to get to the ED.

“Have you seen other Attendings or Fellows?” asked Taeyeon, noticing the lack of medical staff around her right now. It’s only her and five other surgeons in Kindergarten.

“They’re having an emergency board meeting. I think Dr Choi announced it to us a few hours ago,” Dr Kim exhaled, putting her hands on her hips. Well, these restless children better not embarrass me tonight.

“This’ll have to do, I guess,” she commented with clear dissatisfaction of her staff members. “I spent more time in Trauma rotation than in Neuro during residency, you guys just have to trust me,” the Fellow forced a smile. “Maybe I should trust myself first before blurting out something like that,” she thought, annoyed by her own fake confidence.

Choosing between pediatric and trauma surgery, Taeyeon chose neuro out of the blue. She couldn’t give a reason why. Maybe she was so overwhelmed on choosing a Fellowship that she had chosen a random one and went with it. Although, that’s not who she is. Dr Kim is not impulsive, she doesn't have a secret tumor compromising her decisions. She just knows that she had to pick this specialty, but she still would ask herself why. Of all careers, why be a surgeon and why did she pick this long-term decision so suddenly.

With every smoke break, she knows how much damage it’s doing to her body. Maybe that’s why. Everything boils down to the mistake from half a decade ago.

Seoul’s best neurosurgeon in the making, Dr Kim Taeyeon is still hung up on her first death. What a ing surprise. If her exes could see her now.

One last hit for the road, to prepare her for suspension and for the scolding of her life. She inhaled the smoke through her teeth, and blowing it out as she crushed the used cigarette with her sneakers. Taeyeon heard some coughing. “It’s not like I’m using vape or anything. She didn’t need to overreact,” she muttered under her breath.

She had just saved six people by herself (and with the help of staff and third year surgical Residents). Thankfully, the accident wasn’t so bad. All MVC patients just needed outpatient care. Some lacerations and abdominal bleeding here and there, but none of them needed to stay overnight. You could say she almost dodged a bullet. Almost. She earned this break.

Taeyeon dusted off the ashes from her deep blue scrubs and fanned off the smell as if it had worked with her superiors before. Does she care? Not at all. Would she change to a fresh one before they catch her? Again, she absolutely gives no .

“Just get it over with,” yawned the neurosurgeon, walking in the emergency department with heavy steps.

She was clearly very tired. My first week in Fellowship and I’m already carrying the whole hospital by the shoulders.

Dr Choi Sooyoung, head of the Trauma department, was sniffing the air around her colleague. “Ew, did you smoke again?” she made a disgusted face, sticking out her tongue as to mimic vomiting.

“I only smoke twice a day,” holding up two fingers, the doctor boasted with a smile. No one knows why she was proud of this moment, not even her.

“You think we’d be happy for you?” Sunny cuts in, dusting off traces of her friend’s tobacco-laced sin.

“What was the meeting all about?”

“Someone’s trying to sue the hospital,” shrugged Sunny like it was normal.

“Is it malpractice?”

“We don’t know, honestly. An athlete lost his arm on the table when his doctor promised to save it. We checked the records and everything, nothing could prove medical malpractice,”

“Don’t you think something actually happened inside the OR and no one said anything?” suggested Sooyoung.

“That’s the problem. The surgical records were spotless. The lead surgeon, Dr Nam is currently on leave and the Resident who assisted him won’t say a word,”

“And that’s not weird to you all? The whole surgical wing left me—a Fellow, and kindergarteners-in-scrubs to be in charge of the ER, just to come up empty-handed for the impending lawsuit?” Taeyeon huffed. “This hospital really needs someone like me,”

“Shut the hell up,” 

“You need a shower,”

Sooyoung and Sunny left Taeyeon and her ego, slapping her shoulders as to somehow deflate her pride.

“Neurosurgeons,” cringed Sunny jokingly as they walked away, Dr Choi laughing in response.

Taeyeon shook her head, laughing to herself. "This is about to become big in a few hours," she thought. "One day at a time. One day at a time."