PAPARAZZI 𖦹 JOE GOLDBERG

CHAPTER ONE

lorraine rosewood was a lot of things. a daughter, a sister, a friend. most importantly, someone that strived to become the best version of themselves, no matter what the cost of it was. lorraine paid the price a long time ago, and would never forget about what she had to do in order to flourish.

she finds herself as a doctor now— someone who wants to help people. someone who wants to let others grow, like flowers blooming in the spring, before eventually wilting away. but, that's okay. because soon, it'll be spring again, and they'll grow, and grow. even better than they were before. at least, that was what lorraine hoped.

she never really finds herself taking a break from life in the hospital. she'll take night shifts. she'll take long hours. she would do anything to show she cares about other people and would put herself through the most torturous hours necessary to give herself that satisfaction— the fact that she had done whatever she could to keep herself from saving others. like some hero.

now, lorraine doesn't necessarily have a hero complex. sure, she doesn't mind the occasional comment that she is a hero when she's just managed to save someone's life, but it's not what she's bothered about. yes, she likes how she's complimented for her work. she had worked so hard to get to where she was— so of course she wanted a couple of kind words. but she mainly did it for other people. not for herself.

she enjoys taking a break too. the way she manages to pull herself away from the busiest times in the hospital and make her way down a few streets (a ten minute walk), and finds herself in the loveliest coffee shop on earth.

at least, in her opinion.

she would do anything to pay for her own personal cafe inside of her home. maybe even just a dispenser of some sort. somewhere she can put the coffee cup under and just dispense it all, and then just be able to drink away.

the coffee there was to die for.

and that was why she found herself standing at the end of the counter, in the queue, waiting to order the thing she adored the most. sure, it was a little plain. a little basic. but who could blame her for getting such a nice drink? it was just routine at this point.

as soon as she gets to the front, the worker only smiles at her and comments: "the usual?"

lori nods, her own smile appearing on her face. infectious, really. that's how people would describe her. her optimism being infectious. her happiness making others happy. and, it was a fair thing, really. people deserved to be happy. she was just making sure people got a chance to be happy. something they wanted. needed.

"yeah. i think every time i come here it'll end up being the same every time." she lets out a small laugh, letting one of the straps of her bag fall from her shoulder, being able to look inside at the contents of it.

it would tell what she was like as a person, if you were observant enough when looking.

a keycard for the hospital. that was the obvious thing that would be in there. she had a pretty high ranking— so what else would be expected of her other than that? keys. her phone. a couple of pens and a small pocket journal. her purse. a book— something she would take to read on one of her breaks on a night shift. she had just forgotten to take it out earlier.

she fishes out her purse, zipping open the object before pulling out a few dollars, and giving it to the worker. "keep the change," she adds, as she knows it could go a long way.

she finds herself at the other end of the counter. she knows that they know her name. she's a regular here. she comes every day. they know her name by now. she knows it.

she glances over at the small box at the side of the counter, which was full of sugar packets, serviettes, mixing sticks. she grabs herself a packet of sugar and a stick, knowing that's always what she puts in her coffee.