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Bzzt. Bzzt.
Oh, it's just a message. She ignored the buzz on her pocket — the professors would have called her if it's an emergency, so she reckoned it would be her brother asking when she'll get back (and whether she will bring food) or Minha sending new fantaken photos of a BTS member. Jang Gyeoul is working late today for the third day in a row. Being the only resident in the General Surgery department is difficult but she has learned to endure it — not to mention she secretly likes how the kind professors treat her, constantly one-upping each other in an effort to pull her into supporting their surgeries.
Well, everyone but one, at least.
If not for the unwavering admiration love to Ahn Jeongwon, a normal person would already frown upon his treatment: not a single smile, no personal lunch breaks or dine outs, nothing, nada. It all started with a clichéd, enough-for-a-romantic-comedy-opener, love at first sight before it developed into a full-blown crush and finally landing in a desperation of an unrequited love. She has made up her mind to try to let go of any hope to receive a drop of affection from the professor, for it feels like every attempt is futile.
Bzzt. Bzzt.
The second buzz distracts her from finishing the patient's chart. A Park Minsoo. Autoimmune hepatitis leading to onset cirrhosis. Surgery required tomorrow before it turned for the worse. Just turned seven this year, young and bubbly, yet her first year of primary school has to be tainted with prolonged hospital visits. No matter how many patients she saved (and lost), Gyeoul is never really used to this… emptiness she feels whenever she studies her patient, most especially if it's a child. The combination of the parents' guilt and feeling of failure, the child's small frame trying their best to survive, the tiny fingers and toes, the crushed dreams and wailing when the dreaded news would have to eventually be shared to the family.
The first time she lost a patient, she lost her appetite for three days straight. Ever since she promised to work twice — no, thrice as hard so as to not feel this despair again. Her second loss didn't get easier. Again she promised to work harder, harder, and harder. Later on she learned that there's only so much one can do and that she can't save everyone — so she pledged that she will keep herself grounded, stay factual, stay objective, stay logical, work her damnedest hard and not let emotions get the best of her. That's the only promise she can give to make peace with herself, one which manifests into her long nights and short breaks, with no regrets.
Bzzt. Bzzt.
She made a mental note to kick her brother out of her house if this was one of his messages asking her to come home to bring a tteokbokki.
Hi~ bfuyou dnt opn my mssage s? Are u wkngl a te? Dont frget to eat~^^ I kve u
2.35 AM
Two things: one, what the heck? two, what the heck?
Adrenaline rushing through her body, head-to-toe, as she opens her messages in disbelief. She takes her glasses off, rubs her eyes, cleans her glasses before putting it back on just to be clear: this is really Ahn Jeongwon texting her at two-thirty in the morning.
Hi gyekul, im srry if i. M cold to u i do it fr th. B est. U r oertty and yojng, ur life is stll wy ahed of u i hpe smone wil make u happy. If god allows i wnnab by u r sixde bit I cannot
2.11 AM
Y are vrry hardwkring, deep beneath ur codld demeanor u sre bery warm, u care abot people! !! More than t
Ursekf ! Your candidness is kovely.. A. Tbe way ur hajr hangs, the way youe glasses sits on yir nose, n you r puffy cheeks. I love yiru denim jcket, ur whte shirt. The wat u clipthe pen on ur hair when y eat… OnOne day can w go ot and eat tgeth er.? Id lvoe nkthjng mre… ..
2.19AM
She rereads all three messages, hand trembling as she swipes the messages up and down. If this is some evil, heartless prank he's pulling on me I am submitting my resignation letter tomorrow, she said to herself.
She jolts herself up and paces back and forth across the faculty room. This cannot be right.
Scenario one, she thought, Professor Lee is drinking out with his buddy and Professor Ahn loses in a truth-or-dare game and he writes these messages on Professor Ahn's phone. Plausible, very plausible work of the insider of Yulje — but only if she doesn't know how tender Lee Ikjun is. He would've never done such a thing to her. Scenario one, out.
Scenario two, Professor Ahn hates me to the bone and tries to find a way to kick me out of Yulje so he is in the process of coercing me indirectly to resign out of embarrassment? Highly likely, highly possible from a professor who wouldn't bat an eye to her in the first place. In a frantic episode she busted the door down and ran to the Obstetrics & Gynecology department only to find out that Chu Minha is off duty tonight.
As she walks back to the General Surgery faculty room, cheeks blushing from embarrassment and sheer shock, she thought of Scenario Three: Professor Ahn is drunk and he's confessi—
She couldn't even finish her thoughts — the very word is so wild and unthinkable that it almost feels sinful to have imagined it. She shakes her head off and plops herself down back to her chair, mind blank, head rushing. She dares not to reopen her phone, until the fourth buzz comes in.
Bzzt. Bzzt.
She slides her phone down the table.
Tick tock tick tock. The hands of the clock are unnecessarily, excessively loud that Gyeoul just glares at them.
After five long breaths she braved herself to open the new message, which reads:
Ill see u tkrmrrow ok, take care, jm headng hme with jnwannie. Love ul..+!!^^^
2.57AM
What the heck.
In a spur of the moment, with an unknown courage she never knew she had, she calls Professor Kim Junwan, masking it as a natural late night call when patients have emergencies beyond the capability and authorisation of the young residents.
"Hi," the trademark stern voice said at the other end of the line.
"Hello Professor, good evening, I'm really sorry for calling you but is… Professor Ahn with you?" she hopes her quivering voice does not give her away.
"Well, yes he technically is, but… Is it an emergency? I don't think he's in a state to respond properly though. Is it his patient? Ikjun is not around so it's just me & Jeongwon here," he scoffed, although his visibly concerned tone made Gyeoul feels really, really shitty.
In the background she can hear a small grunt followed by a raspy who, who is it? which instantly made her heart skipped a beat.
"It's your resident, she must've been looking all over for you. You shouldn't have drunk that much, ah, really."
"My resident? My resident? Is it Jang Gyeoul? My Jang Gyeoul?" his voice becomes louder as he speaks and comes closer to the microphone. She couldn't believe her ears — maybe she has had too many all-nighters that both her eyes and her ears are acting funny. My Jang Gyeoul?
"Geez, man get a hold of yourself!" when people joked Junwan and Jeongwon are soul mates, she bets they've never seen these parts of them.
"Ah no no, Professor Kim, please don't fret yourself too much, it's not an emergency, just a quick check. I'm sorry for disturbing your night thank you and sorry again pleasetakecarebye", she hurried her last few words before abruptly ending the call, avoiding the potential scenario of having to talk to Jeongwon.
Factual, objective, logical. Gyeoul repeats the three values she has held onto her entire adult life.
Factually, she started, he sent these messages. Professor Lee is not with them. He is drunk. He also said he loves (she gulps at the thought of this word) me. Twice. He said my Jang Gyeoul. He said I'm pretty (she runs her fingers over her hair at the mention of this word) and that he loves these little things about me.
There is this tingle on her neck and nauseating feeling on her tummy — and yet she notices her lips pursing up.
Objectively, she continued, he's awake enough to type and send these messages, and then able to identify my voice from the background.
She can feel the dopamine and adrenaline rushing through her veins, her heart rate jumping like crazy.
Logically, she tries to calm herself down, he is drunk, so he is not fully on his senses. He may feel less restrained and more relaxed hence the flurry of texts. He must have observed me all this time if he notices these little things about me? Thus, there is a possibility that he actually does feel these ways about me, and it was just not shown all this time…? she ends in a hopeful tone.
She smiles, giggles and then laughs in disbelief and utter happiness. Still affected by the jolt of dopamine, endorphin, and adrenaline, her thumbs wander as she swiftly types and sends:
Ah, yes Professor. Take care!
3.10AM