#bldmvn

              ‘WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?’ TEXT STARTERS.

                             status: not accepting!

    - – ( sms : moonbabe ) 

                   what? 

                   what the hell are you talking about - i don’t even drink beer wtf -

                   i actually haven’t left my place bc been studying for exams and I want death.

                                                                                                          sent: 10:30 am

⟨ What happened last night? ; accepting! ⟩

FLOODED WITH THE ANNOYANCE FROM EACH PASSING CORNER, almost as if everyone was out to get him, he ran his fingers through his hair, releasing a deep, frustrated sigh. “I can’t fill this prescription today. Sorry.” Or ever. Then, the patient exploded, complaining about how unreliable the healthcare system was and how he was going to ‘die’ without his medication. In which all Ezra could do was roll his eyes, disregarding the screaming bastard. ‘Then next time, consider using you fucking brain. This is a fucking class II controlled substance. Clearly, I have a system that tracks down each prescription filled; and clearly it says the medication was filled within the last week or so. Fucking idiots; use the brain if you’re gonna do something illegal’. To think that was the end, he was fooled. Following after, came another irrational patient waving prescriptions in front of Ezra’s face when clearly there was a drop-off window with an intern student waiting patiently to take prescriptions while he was dealing with the insurance company over the phone. To add, he had a line of patients waiting for their prescriptions and backed up doctor callbacks to make. 

Stress.

So much so, his temper slipped, ended up raising his voice at the next patient on line. He had missed the first couple sentences, but as his gaze met hers, he immediately regretted all action; more so because he knew the female. ‘Knew’ as in, a colleague of his had introduced him to her because he was in need of a professional photographer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to —” His temper. Temper was always an issue, was worse now that he had to repress most since he was a healthcare provider. Yes, a lot has changed over the past two months. “Just give me a second. Let me settle something over the phone, fill the remaining prescriptions, and we’ll be out of here. Again, I’m sorry about earlier.”

Leaving behind the underground crime and mafia world, weight carried over. A drug lord, or in this case, an ex-drug lord, he had a mansion in his possession. Now, he was ready to sell; in need of the money for several reasons. Whether she did estate properties or not, he didn’t care. He needed good photos of his property; might as well add, as soon as possible.