Chapter Three: First Day Fallouts
1730 Words
After checking on the VIP patient, I decided to head home for a bit. My apartment wasn’t far from the hospital anyway. I made a mental note to bring an overnight bag tomorrow—just in case there’s an emergency, or I get stuck for another 24-hour shift. It was always better to be prepared.
It felt strange going home this early. I was used to finishing at ungodly hours—midnights that bled into mornings. I also needed to update Erica about my new schedule. I couldn’t just leave her alone at the apartment too long; next thing I know, the place might be on fire because of one of her misadventures.
The apartment was quiet when I walked in. I figured neither of them were home yet.
Just as I was about to sit down, a familiar engine revved outside. Then—chaos.
I stepped out onto the porch. Eksena agad.
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”
They didn’t even hear me. Their make-out session was louder than their morals. I cleared my throat. No reaction. I cleared it again—louder this time.
Finally, they noticed.
Erica straightened up, sheepish, and followed me into the kitchen. “You’re home early,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t just been lip-locked on our front porch.
I shot her a glare.
She raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. ‘Go home, Dylan.’ Message received.”
Dylan mumbled his goodbye. I ignored it.
“I have a new schedule,” I said while making coffee. “I can’t share the details yet, but I might not be able to come home every day.”
“So when will you be home?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll be back. Eventually.”
She grinned and plopped onto a stool. “Okay, but what’s our rule again?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Simple. No more of that in the living room.”
Erica burst out laughing. “It was just one kiss, Sel!”
“One kiss? You two barely see each other, and that’s how you spend your time together?”
“Fine, fine,” she said, still giggling. “We’ll come up with a code word.”
“I just want a little peace in this house.”
“Our code word is: Torrid,” she declared proudly.
I threw a pandesal at her.
Later that evening, after dinner and packing, my phone buzzed. It was Aeris. Her voice—gentle and calm as always—felt like a lullaby after the chaos of the day.
“Hi, Ate Sel. How are you doing there?”
“I’m okay, Aeris. I found a new opportunity. Triple the salary. I’ll be able to support your studies better now.”
Seconds later, Fia hijacked the call.
“Ate Sel! My laptop’s broken! Buy me a new one, pleaaase.”
“What? It’s still working!”
“It’s ancient! All my classmates have new ones. I’m so outdated.”
I could hear Aeris scolding her gently in the background.
Erica barged into the room, caught wind of the conversation, and shouted, “I’ll buy you a new one, babygirl! High specs, promise!”
Maybe this was what it meant to be the eldest daughter. Half-sister, half-mom. Exhausting, yes—but there was joy in it too. Especially when you see them happy.
The next morning arrived far too soon.
Before the sun had fully risen, Erica helped me load my things into the car.
“You look like you’re flying to another country,” she teased.
By the time I reached the hospital’s VIP floor, the air felt different. This area had its own rules. Even hospital staff weren’t allowed to just stroll in. Security scanned my ID, checked my bag, and finally let me through.
It was 6:02 AM when I reached Room 2430.
I opened the door—and froze.
Ma’am Letty. Elaine. Dr. Elian. And then…
Him.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Tousled black hair. The kind of tired eyes that said he hadn’t slept in days. His stare—cold, sharp, calculated. He looked like he walked straight out of a medical drama—the kind of lead who breaks every heart and every rule.
He changed so much, I almost didn’t recognize him.
Gone was the version of him I once remembered. Now, there was only distance. Detachment.
My chest tightened.
No, Selene. You don’t know him anymore. You’ve forgotten. He has too. Be professional. You need this job. You need the money. You can survive six months.
“Dr. Leon Arguelles, our lead physician for the VIP patient,” Ma’am Letty introduced.
“You’re late, Ms. Velarez,” he said flatly, voice cold enough to drop the room’s temperature. “First impressions matter.”
My soul? Gone. Evaporated.
I tried to speak. “I had to—”
“You could’ve prepared earlier. Excuses don’t save lives.”
I swallowed hard. Barely five minutes in, and I already wanted to resign.
He didn’t recognize me. Or maybe he did—and chose not to.
As he walked us through the patient chart, I followed silently, my nerves getting louder with every step. I stepped back—and caught my foot on the ECG cord.
I screamed, stumbled into the bedside rail. “Ay—sh*t!”
Dead silence.
Dr. Leon didn’t even flinch. “Perhaps familiarize yourself with the room layout before walking like it’s a runway.”
Fantastic. I was the comic relief in a hospital drama.
“Are you okay?” Elaine whispered, steadying me.
“I think so,” I whispered back, cheeks burning.
Ma’am Letty gave my back a gentle pat. “First-day nerves. Just breathe, dear.”
I’m trying, I thought. But part of me wanted to lie face down on the floor and never get up again.
By mid-morning, I found myself in the pantry with Elaine, grabbing a quick snack. A buzz on her phone broke the quiet.
“Can you bring the patient chart to my office?” Dr. Leon’s voice came through the line.
“I’ll bring it,” I offered quickly, eager to redeem myself.
His office felt colder than the rest of the hospital. The walls were black, the lighting dim. I handed him the file without making eye contact.
He flipped it open, then looked up—expression unreadable.
“This is the chart for Room 2403.”
He closed the folder slowly. The kind of slow that stings.
“Shall I trust you with this patient next?”
My stomach twisted.
“Elaine,” he called sharply.
Elaine entered, looking confused.
“Get me the right chart. This woman is wasting my goddamn time.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from escaping.
“I’m sorry, Doc. I’ll do better,” I whispered.
“You should’ve double-checked,” he said coldly. “A patient’s life is not a game. Are you really the best this hospital can offer? Or did someone pull strings for you?”
That one hit deeper than it should’ve.
He didn’t even look at me when he said, “Just get out.”
I walked out of his office with my head down, heart in pieces.
Maybe Erica was right. Maybe this was a mistake.
The afternoon passed in a blur of charts and rounds. When we returned to Room 2430, he asked for a vitals update.
“Stat, Ms. Velarez.”
I reached into my pocket. Empty. No pen.
Both Ma’am Letty and Dr. Elian offered theirs, but before I could take one, Dr. Leon handed me his. Silent. Cold.
“Always be prepared. This isn’t a classroom.”
I nodded, too embarrassed to speak.
While scribbling the numbers, I sneezed—loud. Then, because fate hated me, I tripped over the IV stand.
Again.
“I’m okay!” I said quickly, jumping up like a startled penguin.
Dr. Leon raised an eyebrow. “You may want to consider flats next time. For everyone’s safety.”
Flats?! I was wearing sneakers.
At this point, I wasn’t sure if I was cursed… or just cursed around him.
After the shift ended, I collapsed into the pantry chair, soul bruised. I thought no one noticed my series of disasters—until I caught Dr. Elian glancing at me, subtly hiding a smile behind his hand.
I accidentally spilled my coffee.
He handed me a tissue. “You good?”
“I’m emotionally bruised,” I muttered.
He looked genuinely surprised by my honesty. But I had no one else to talk to.
So, I told him everything. The fall. The file. The IV stand. The judgmental stare.
And somehow… talking to him didn’t feel heavy. His voice was calm. His presence wasn't intimidating. He listened—not just to what I said, but to what I didn’t.
Wow. He’s… actually really easy to talk to.
Warm. Gentle. May sense kausap.
We could actually be friends, I thought. Maybe even close. Eventually.
He chuckled softly. “You’re doing better than you think. Everyone struggles on day one. The difference is—some try again the next day.”
I smiled faintly, grateful.
But just as I stood up, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“You do know your ID is on backwards?” Dr. Leon said from the hallway, arms crossed.
I looked down.
Oh, god.
It was. Hanging like a bib on a toddler.
I fumbled to fix it, cheeks blazing. “Thanks,” I muttered.
He walked away without another word.
Apparently, embarrassment on the VIP floor was part of my job description now.
I ducked into the stairwell for a moment. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above me.
“Lord,” I whispered. “Am I cursed?”
Six months of this?
Coffee would be my only salvation.
I pressed a hand to my chest. You worked so hard for this. You earned this.
Don’t let one man—especially that man—make you forget that.
Straightening my ID badge, I took a deep breath and whispered to the silence:
“Selene, pull yourself together. You didn’t come this far just to quit.”
Then I walked back into the hallway—head high, heart cracked, and ready for tomorrow.
Even if tomorrow meant facing Dr. Leon Arguelles all over again.
- Writer
