~Story line ~
Dr. Min Yoongi, a renowned doctor by profession, and Lee Y/N an clumsy intern end up in the some rural area's hospital.
While Lee Y/N is a spoiled rich brat who is headstrong, whereas Min Yoongi is a very cold, nasty, and callous man...
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**Author POV:**
" Dr. Lee, you can't do this to me! Take me back to *Lee University Hospital*. How the hell am I supposed to stay in this godforsaken place for two years? You're seriously dumping me in this rundown hospital? Are you insane?!" Your voice echoed off the bare walls of your tiny, miserable apartment as you screamed into your phone, anger pulsing through your veins. The director of the prestigious Lee University Hospital-a man who also happened to be your father-let out a frustrated sigh on the other end.
"Yah, you brat! What happened to calling me *Dad*, huh? And why the hell are you shouting?" Dr. Lee's voice dropped, irritation laced in every word. "You've been accused of malpractice, Y/N. Do you even realize how serious that is?"
Your mouth opened to protest, but he kept going.
"You should be grateful you aren't in jail right now! I've had to work my ass off to keep this out of the public eye, but I won't let you ruin my reputation in my own hospital. So, for the next two years, you'll be practicing at the *Busan branch*-and that's final. I even got you the best apartment in the area, so stop complaining. Now, don't call me again. I have a surgery to prep for." Without so much as a goodbye, he hung up, leaving you to stare at your phone in disbelief.
"YAH! HELLO? Did you seriously just hang up on me?!" You threw the phone onto your tiny bed in frustration, your heart pounding as rage bubbled up inside.
"fuck this old man!!" you cursed, running your fingers through your hair. You glared at the sad excuse for an apartment around you-two tiny bedrooms caked with dust, a dingy kitchen with peeling tiles, and a bathroom so small it felt like a joke.
"Is this even an apartment?! My bathroom back home is bigger than this entire place. I *hate* you, Dad! I *fucking hate you!*"
Slumping to the ground, you felt the weight of it all hit you. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes as you hugged your knees. This place felt like a prison-dusty, cramped, and *pathetic.* You were used to living in luxury, not... this.
"And there's not even a fucking AC," you muttered, staring up at the cracked ceiling. The heat was unbearable, and sweat clung to your skin. "Fuck my life," you groaned, burying your face in your hands.
Just then, a voice startled you. "Oh, dear, are you alright?"
You snapped your head up to see a woman in her 40s standing in the doorway, eyeing you with concern. You quickly wiped at your face, trying to cover the fact that you'd been crying.
