A Mastermind Plan Comes To Life.

Fiona adjusted her blazer in the reflection of the hospital’s glass doors, inhaling sharply. She looked somewhat professional. If you ignored the slight panic in her eyes.

Confidence, she reminded herself. Doctors don’t hesitate. They walk like they belong.

So, she squared her shoulders, pushed through the doors, and walked up to the reception desk with the most doctor-like stride she could manage.

The nurse at the front barely glanced up. “Can I help you?”

Fiona cleared her throat. “Yes. Dr. Fiona…”—Crap, last name, last name!—“…Evans.” (Her eyes had landed on a random name tag on the counter. She was really hoping that nurse Evans wasn’t on shift today.)

The receptionist nodded, typing something into the system. “Specialty?”

Fiona froze. Specialty? Crap. Think, think.

“…Psychiatry,” she said smoothly, praying that was even a department here.

The nurse nodded again. “Oh, good. We’re short-staffed. You’re here for the new rotation, right?”

Fiona’s brain short-circuited. Rotation? What was that? Was she being added to an actual shift right now?

She considered correcting the nurse, but then—Wait. This is perfect. If I’m supposed to be here, no one will question me.

So, she put on her most professional smile. “Of course.”

The nurse handed her an ID badge. “You’ll be shadowing Dr. Patel in Ward C. You can find your first patient in Room 314. Good luck, Doctor.”

Fiona stared at the badge. It wasn’t even her picture. It was some other woman with glasses.

But hey. A win was a win.

She nodded, pocketed the badge, and strolled into the hospital like she actually knew what she was doing.

Fiona stands in front of the empty hospital room, blinking at the very much missing patient.

"Okay… maybe he’s just in the bathroom?" she thinks, peeking inside. Nope. No sign of life. Not even a toothbrush.

She turns to the nearest nurse, trying to sound professional. “Uh, excuse me? I was told to meet with Damian… but he’s not here?”

The nurse barely glances at her. “Then find him.”

Fiona frowns. “…Find him?”

The nurse gives her a look, as if she’s the crazy one. “You’re the psychiatrist, aren’t you? If you don’t know where your patient is, that’s your problem.” Then, just like that, she walks away.

Fiona just stands there, stunned.

"I—what? What kind of hospital is this?!"

With an exasperated sigh, she starts searching. The cafeteria? Empty. The lounge? No sign of him. The hallways? Just a bunch of other patients who definitely are not Damian.

She’s about to give up when she remembers something.

“If I were a troubled, rebellious patient avoiding therapy… where would I go?”

The answer hits her like a K-drama plot twist.

The rooftop.

Sure enough, when she pushes open the rooftop door, she spots someone lying there.

A guy.

He’s sprawled out on the ground, one arm draped over his eyes, completely dead to the world.

For a second, Fiona freezes. Because he isn’t just asleep—he looks exhausted. Like he hasn’t slept in days. The wind moves through his dark hair, his breathing steady but deep, like someone who only lets themselves rest when they physically can’t go any further.

She suddenly feels… awkward. Should she wake him? Would he be mad?

Finally, she clears her throat. “Uh… Damian?”

No response.

She tries again, louder. “Damian.”

Nothing.

Fiona rolls her eyes. Of course my first patient is a literal sleeping beauty.

After a beat, she kneels beside him and—hesitantly—gives his shoulder a small shake.

His eyes snap open immediately. Sharp. Unreadable. Like he was never really asleep at all.

And then, in a deep, groggy voice, he mutters, “…You found me. Congratulations.”

Fiona blinks. What.

Damian stares at her, gaze heavy with something between amusement and exhaustion. “Well? Do I win a prize?”

She has no idea what to say to that.