#feelinvented

           Joey was going to die in this cabin. He was sure of it. It was either sit in his room alone and watch Skinemax (or something) or go outside and socialize with the other singles, and he chose the former. So the twenty-something year old twiddled his thumbs, laying with his back against the headboard as the bright white television screen stung his eyes in the dark room. He had just finished a plate of room service and a glass of scotch, which were sitting on the counter across the room. The sore sight of those dirty dishes seemed to be his only company, and for the first time ever, Joey felt a little bit... pathetic. 

        And he couldn’t fucking stand that, so obviously, he was going to change it. And change it quick. So, he tugged off his sweatpants and traded them in for a pair of jeans and a button-up. It wasn’t too late yet, so he figured that Chey would be awake. 

      Chey was a blonde he met at the bar sometime earlier today. He remembered that she slipped her room number somewhere in his pocket, so he dug into his jeans to search for them. 3005. What his excuse was for going to see her, he didn’t know, but he figured he would make one up on the spot if she asked him, in that typical Joey fashion. He stepped out of his cabin, stuck his key card in his wallet, and head to her door. 

        “You’d never believe what happened in my cabin,” he said, once she opened the door. A chuckle left his lips. “It’s totally fuckin’ flooded.”

You’d think having two gay fathers as parents would help Kirk feel a little more prepared for prom night, but it’s actually made him feel more nervous than he’d like to admit. Getting the right tux, matching shoes, it all went smoothly-- but the hair, the cologne, the actual getting ready part was the thing that almost made him late to her house. But it wasn’t long before the time came to pick her up, and while he would have wanted to pick her up in his longboard instead, he took his old black Honda Civic to drive to her place. His folks followed, of course, with a whole camera and tripod set up to photograph the couple for their very first-- and last-- prom. It was supposed to feel like magic and that’s how Kirk had always pictured it to be, but really all he felt was nervousness. He was finally going out on a date with Amanda Chey, Manda Panda, Amanda Pants... and it made him so excited that he was nearly sick to his stomach. 

After parking his car on the side of the street, Kirk stepped into the Johnson home with his parents behind him, graciously welcomed by Chey’s parents, who were just as eager to see her come down. He fiddled with his hands as they held the tiny little grey satin box that held her corsage until one of his dads nudged him on the side to stay still. He held his wrist with one hand while the other held the box and he took a deep breath in anticipation to see the most beautiful girl.

"Your last doctor was an idiot. I’m taking over your post-ops for the next week.” One would think that a simpler sentence would break two years of silence. Maybe something along the lines of ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ or ‘What’s up? How’s your sister?’ But certainly not an insult to the patient’s previous physician. Then again, they were anything but ordinary. Isabella remembered the demise of their relationship vividly, a terrible consequence of a photographic memory. She remembered every insult, every octave in his tone, and even the sweat that built on his nose. The most painful memory? The sight of his back turned to her, stepping out of her apartment and (symbolically) out of her life. It was an image that she buried with long nights in the research lab. The cold-blooded doctor suffered from a broken heart. So why not focus on fixing hearts? For two years, Isabella grew from an ambitious resident into an award-winning fellow. Her clinical study on regenerating vital organs using 3D printing claimed the attention of the medical community. The youngest recipient of Lasker Award and her first nomination for a Noble Prize, Isabella saw her dreams come to fruition. That’s the thing about dreams, though. Once you reach it, it begs the question -- what’s next? Since she was six, Isabella knew her dreams were limitless. There was always another medical mishap to solve. But the thirty-year old doctor found that the only dream worth having was more. The chance escaped her the moment Luke Morrow stepped out of her life. For two years, she suffered silence. The bits she knew about him came from Teo, with the rest stemming from social media. But when the blonde-haired man was wheeled into the emergency room with a severely broken leg that threatened paralysis? The chance returned. She attempted to join in on the surgery, but the rare sight of a crying Dr. Ricci forced her colleagues to ice her out. When Dr. Matheson benevolently “dumped” his post-op care onto Isabella, she rewarded her with a rare embrace. Lingering in the hospital room doorway, she grasps his chart in her hands. “Can I come in, Luke?”

"It... You know. It needs a little bit of work.” He hovers behind the statuesque blonde, a permanent cringe on his face and a beet red color occupying his cheeks. This wasn’t meant to happen. She wasn’t meant to see this. More often than not, Stefan shared these muse-like tributes as a way to confess his undying love. That’s how it was with Jennifer, and Catherine, and now apparently Rory. But he hadn’t intended for her to see his rough cut, something so eerily romantic and overlay of an old school “Open Your Eyes”, it spoke of romance and good intention. Sure, it’s how the film maker felt. He felt that way since he was a lanky, teenage boy watching the rockstar’s girlfriend strut throughout their private school. Which only forced a darker cringe to his face when the documentary included stolen snippets of a teenage Rory (those he took from the dumpster or during a boring English class). See, he learned. Not enough, obviously. But he learned from past romances that this, grand gestures? It wasn’t romantic. It was desperate. In the moment, his ex-muses jumped for joy and made love to him throughout the evening. But, without fail, they found his love too overwhelming and cast him aside. Besides, Rory was his best friend... His only friend. And for once, Stefan didn’t want to ruin it with romance. Funny how people change. “I’m... Mortified.” He admits gruesomely, turning away from the screen he left playing. He invited her over for dinner and another interview. But while he slaved away in the kitchen, he unknowing left his ‘Rory White Video’ on play for her to see. “I’m so sorry.”

"My patient went into cardiac arrest. We’ve been working on him for months... I couldn’t just leave.” The words were firm and straightforward; however, it lacked any version of I’m sorry or I’ll make it up to you. Just as it had every other conversation they had. It was an exhaustive broken record, one that made the apartment unwelcoming to Isabella. It was months since their Christmas extravaganza, and they committed to making things work. Not a relationship, but not a friendship either... Just something in between. But in the heat of it all, the doctor forgot about at least four dates and three meet ups. At this point, the only time she and Luke spoke was when they were arguing. “What would you have me do? Leave him? I’m the best fellow at Mount Sinai. If I left, one of those idiot residents would’ve killed him.” It was a dramatic stance, but she considered it true. Her career was on the rise, on the brink of completing their current stage of her clinical study whilst securing a highly coveted fellowship. “Are you seriously mad about this? I told you... I have patients. These things happen.” Isabella explains, lacking in sympathy as her tired form lifts from the bed. “Luke! God, just tell me why you’re so pissed.”

       Right after lunch, Marley always met with Chey to walk to one of their classes together. Today, though, Chey was running a little late, leaving Marley leaning against her locker in boredom, scrolling through her phone to pass the time. A few minutes passed until Marley looked up and saw her best friend walking with none other than Joey O’Connor, which caused a mischievous grin to adorn her lips. When the “loving” couple parted, Marley took a few extra steps to meet Chey halfway, staring her down suspiciously, arms folding across her chest. “What... was... that?”