Jessica wasn’t just addicted to wine – her body’s circulating wine.

Every member in her family addressed her obsession with the glorified red beverage, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from sneaking in more expensive bottles from all over the world. None of the people who are concerned for Jessica knows that it was her way of drowning out the world. The bitter and sweet taste helps overcome the stress that she's silently enduring. The expensive red liquid in a cheap cylindrical glass; paired with paperwork and pressure of being a Jung- it was slowly ruining her. Being overworked as the heiress of a well-known foundation is not as appealing as society makes it out to be.

At 25, she decided to go to med school. Secretly.

It was a drunken decision which she was not proud of.

She started working in the Jung Foundation, their family business, since she was 17; she and her sister have been training for it right after their first birthdays. They didn’t have a brother, so it was up to them to take over the company that their parents built from scratch. Once she sobered up and realized what she did under the influence of grapefruit soju, she gradually understood why choosing a whole different career would be better for her. (It was mostly stopping herself from cancelling the applications that she had already sent to different med schools).

“You’re now a surgical Resident. When do you plan on telling mom?” asked Krystal, sipping her iced Americano.

Jessica sighed, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know the best time. I’m so close to being a real surgeon,”

“You’re already a surgeon. You’ve been in ORs, you’ve assisted surgeries, and you’ve treated a lot of patients, and most of them turn out fine. As far as we know,” sister.

“That’s all true, but I’m still on rotations and I need to be in a permanent position before I tell mom and dad,”

“That makes no sense…”

“It’s useless explaining to you,” Jessica grumbled, gathering her pale blue Balenciaga handbag and packing inside the tattered purple Sanrio notebook filled with important notes since she started internship.

“Thank me later with grilled beef,” laughed Krystal, half-joking.

Jessica has an interview today with the Chief Surgeon of a great teaching hospital in Seoul. She still has a couple of hours to spare, so checking in with her subordinates in the company would be completely normal, like she wasn’t learning medicine behind her parents’ backs. The Director of the Jung Foundation has been hiding this secret for five years, a few more wouldn’t hurt.

“I’m impressed at how loyal dad’s bodyguards are. Haven't they accidentally told mom or dad yet?” asked Krystal on one occasion during their weekly lunch breaks.

“You make it sound like I run a secret mafia business,” joked the eldest sister, repressing the thought of the many consequences that her poor life choices may bring. “Honestly, I think they’ll break soon. They wouldn’t last five years of lying since they’ve been working with dad for a long time,”

But Jessica was wrong. On her last year in med school, she was mentally preparing for a sudden family meeting—with the bodyguards who couldn’t keep their mouths shut—to immediately take her vehicles and credit cards as punishment by her parents who were betrayed and disappointed. Theoretically.

Five years gone and she’s still practicing medicine with only the blessing of her sister and staff members working with the Jungs, who promised to keep her secret.

“Not gonna lie, this is stressful,” groaned Jessica, throwing her flats off and plopping to the nearest sofa. It was her first day as a surgical intern and the Residents and Attendings were already watching them like a hawk. If med students are at the bottom of the barrel, then interns are the leftovers that no sane patient wants to have. Now imagine being the only high schooler learning alongside a bunch of toddlers. It was embarrassing on Jessica’s part—she’s a board member of the Jung Foundation, for goodness sake. Sadly for her, no one in the hospital gives a crap as long as these toddlers-in-scrubs don’t embarrass their seniors.

She was an intern. And she’s at the bottom of the food chain.

“Dr Jung—”

Jessica’s eyes looked like they were about to pop off their sockets. With her instincts as a doctor (and a Jung), she quickly, almost aggressively, covered an employee’s mouth with her slender hand. She just exited the elevator and her father is in this floor with her. She does not want to be caught dead right now, not over the incompetency of her staff.

“Doctor?” puzzled Jessica’s coworker who overheard the employee. 

.

She casually took her hand off her subordinate’s mouth. “Oh, is she not a doctor?”

“You must be thinking about my late grandmother. She was a great doctor, a very successful Peds surgeon in her time,” she coaxed with an uncomfortable smile, hoping her colleague would slowly back away from the strange situation he got himself into. Truly, it wasn’t much of a ruse than a gentle persuasion—Jessica finds it easier to lie when she puts everyone in an uncomfortable place: in this case, her unusual smile.

Still works like a charm.

Both of them let out the biggest sigh of relief once her coworker was out of earshot. “That was so tense,” said the Director, dumbfounded at what happened 3 seconds ago.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out,” Jun stared at the floor, reflecting on his actions.

“That was thrice this month. My blood pressure is suffering because of you,” Jessica breathed out once more, still feeling lightheaded.

“For what it’s worth, we finished the project proposal and we just need your approval,” smiled Jun, like he hadn’t accidentally tried to sabotage Jessica’s other career that she’s been building for half a decade.

Jessica signs some papers and sneaked out before her father drags her into a boring conversation with his peers.

She exits the office building with a shaky breath escaping her lips. If the interview goes well, she would be closer to not lying to anyone anymore. If not, “I just hope they thoroughly read my studies and would think twice about booting me off their program,” she silently prayed.

Gangnam University Hospital, overall the best and biggest teaching hospital in South Korea, and the first-year resident is afraid that even merely stepping inside would ruin their reputation and legacy. She spent her entire life making her parents proud, she doesn’t know why she’s intimidated about that ugly green building like it’s looking down at her position as a surgeon.

Destroying her own self-esteem, it’s what Jessica truly excels in. Dear Lord.

The hospital with the ugly green accent is just right across from her and the café. Would she prioritize downing three cups of black coffee or going in the hospital normally without the influence of any beverage? She calls up her sister instead.

“Are you forgetting that I have a job?”

Of course, Krystal’s rude responses that Jessica is immune to.

“That can wait – I just need a pep talk, I’m already in front of the hospital,” she says in one breath, desperate for an incentive to enter the hospital as she’s practically frozen in place.

“Jess, you wanted this...”

A pause.

“Um…”

Another pause.

Jessica cuts her off before her sister could embarrass herself more.

“Good talk,”

With her anxiety gone and now replaced with secondhand embarrassment, she felt more than ready.

But life has other plans. Terrible, devastating plans.

The first thing she heard were the screams. In her clandestine job, the horrifying screams were not out of the ordinary. Patients come in the ER (or what doctors call ‘the Pit’) with severe pain and injuries that treating them would also cause the physicians pain. Pain in the neck. Except the screeching Jessica heard from a few blocks away is more than just the patients coming in the ER where help is readily available. No, the cries translate to hopelessness and anguish.

Secondly, the gunshots. Three of them—no, five. No, it was like bullets were raining down. Then, she heard her sister screaming for her on the other line. Asking if she was okay, if she was still breathing, or if she was currently hiding from the shooters. She couldn’t answer. Jessica was still in the same spot as before. Now it felt like her feet were cemented to the ground.

Lastly, the cries of pain from all around her: it brought her back to reality. She’s a surgeon. The people need someone like her right now.

“I, I’m fine, Soojung,” Jessica abruptly ended the call and approached the nearest person who needed immediate medical attention. The interview with the chief had already slipped her mind, her only thought is becoming the doctor she’s been training to be.

It was like the fear and shock have numbed her of other emotions. All feelings have melted into a muddy puddle and it’s telling her to save everyone as much as she can.

“Sir, can you hear me? You’re going to be alright. I promise,” Jessica checked for the man’s pulse, then she leaned down to hear both his heart and breathing. This doesn’t bode well. His prognosis seems bad.

“Does anybody have an empty ink cartridge or-or a 16-gauge needle?” she shouted among the chaos around her.

“Noona, I found some syringes!” someone called back as he ran towards the anxious surgical resident.

“Thanks,” she said breathily, about to perform a dangerous procedure. “Please help me cover up his bullet wounds,”

“W-w-wait, what are you doing?” the man she was treating crawled backwards as soon as he caught sight of a fairly large needle coming near his chest.

“Sir, your heart has accumulated fluid in the protective tissue surrounding it, we need to drain it now. It’s building pressure on your organ,” she explained flatly.

“No, no, no. I don’t like needles!” he exclaimed with shaky and rapid breaths. He’s getting worse the longer he stalls.

“Sir, I know it’s gonna hurt, but you have to trust me,”

Silence. Ragged breaths. He knows his life is at risk, and Jessica can’t help him if he won’t give her permission to stick a large needle to his chest.

The man made his decision. He moved closer and laid down, relaxed his body, and nodded to the surgical resident he was now trusting. Jessica smiled weakly. She popped the needle off the barrel, “This might hurt a lot,” she warned before quickly inserting the needle at an angle directly to his heart. Something was oozing from the tiny hole and she quickly replaced the needle with a slightly larger and flexible tube.

Jessica had just successfully performed her first emergency pericardiocentesis. She’s going to save thousands more.

The last thing she heard were the hopeful sound work boots stomping. The paramedics. Jessica exhaled loudly with relief. “I’ll make sure you live,” she reassured the man, taking out the makeshift catheter and applying pressure to all his wounds.

--
“How was Thanksgiving?” asked Dr Lee out of pure boredom. She honestly doesn’t care about her friend’s love life.

“You don’t care,” Taeyeon blankly stated through her mask as she carefully cuts the dura mater, the leather-like tissue surrounding the brain.

“Now I do,”

Dr Kim sighed, giving back the Dural forceps and looking at Sunny with a disappointed look on her mask-and-operating-glasses-covered face.

“I don’t wanna date men anymore after that guy. Happy?” Taeyeon announced with a laugh. She’s speaking the truth, even in a joking manner. “Besides, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just some random white guy I found on a dating website,”

“Hold on one sec,” Sunny snickered. Then bellowed a laughter, not hiding the fact that she’s entirely making fun of Taeyeon’s terrible choice in men. “Oh, poor you. First date and he took you to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner. In the wonderful Republic of Korea,”

“He’s so weird in the worse way,” scoffed Taeyeon, clearing away blood that the patient’s brain has accumulated from a traumatic blow to the head.

Taeyeon noticed the tension building in the OR and she picked up the pace. “So,” she cleared . “Have they accepted your proposal yet?”

“Can you ask that again but with less teeth grinding?” joked Sunny, seeing her Taeyeon with her brows furrowed and steam coming out of her ears.

Taeyeon was now closing the Dural flap. “It’s not that I’m not happy for you because I really am proud of your research,” she exhaled.

“But…” Sunny added.

“I just think it’s unfair—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” she held up her gloved hand and placed it over her chest, “Everything’s about me now, Dr Kim. I’m paving the way for fetal surgery in Korea,”

Taeyeon rolled her eyes playfully. “Good work, everyone,” she announced, finishing the procedure and peeling off her gloves.

The two surgeons exited the OR with Sunny explaining how her research works. She noticed the three policemen surrounding a bearded man in handcuffs. “Is that Ms Ji-A’s husband?”

“We’re assuming things now?” Taeyeon squinted at the anxious man. He has red marks on his face and arms, possibly from the victim’s struggling, and has a disheveled look with spots of blood on his grey shirt.

“Let’s walk up to him?” suggested Sunny. Taeyeon nodded hesitantly and they calmly approached the patient's family.

“How, how is she? How is my wife?”

The smell of alcohol had gotten stronger when he opened his mouth.

“She had a severe brain bleed that almost cost her and your baby’s life. But we were able to save them both thanks to Dr Lee. They’re both stable now, but we’ll have to see when she wakes up,” the head surgeon ended with a forced smile.

On Jessica’s way out, she saw a black grand piano at the center of the lobby. A child was playing Clair de Lune on it and she automatically smiled knowing the piece very well. The blue moonlight shone through the building despite it being already bright with the fluorescent lights. She was smiling as she left the hospital.