𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒! | harry styles

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

"APRIL Hayes? You mean April like the month?"

Cameron Rogers eyes me dubiously from where he sits in the nurse's station before finally rising to shake my hand. He's a monster of a man, well over six-feet tall with broad arms and shoulders that strain against the sleeves of his scrubs. But his face is boyish, accented by two deep dimples on either side of his persistent smile.

"Well, I'm your Lord and Savior, for all intents and purposes," he introduces himself. "Cameron Rogers. I'll be conditioning you so that you can survive this hell hole on your own in a few weeks."

He's joking, I'm sure, but it's hard to find the humor when the place actually does resemble a hell hole. There's a flock of doctors and nurses and secretaries and transporters everywhere, all assembling together at the prime time that is shift-change. There's nowhere to sit and it's almost impossible to hear anything amidst all the bustle of chatter and activity.

"Um, that's great," I say nervously. There's something about starting a new job - about meeting an influx of new people - that scares the shit out of me. My hands are even a little clammy. I'm really starting to think I might be socially retarded or something.

"Follow me," he says easily. "I'll give you a tour of the floor real quick."

I have to walk briskly to keep up, and pretty soon I've had the tour and have been introduced to several new coworkers. Cameron keeps up a running commentary as we walk, listing off who to avoid and where to sneak for a break and which corners have the best cellphone reception. It's truthfully the best tour I've ever been given.

"That's Al." He pauses and points out a very feminine male nurse but doesn't bother introducing me to him. "We call him Little Johnny, but he doesn't know why." And he doesn't tell me why, either. And I hope...no, I pray that it has nothing to do with his nether regions.

"Why do you call him that?"

"I dunno, he's just short and looks like Elton John. Little Johnny."

I stifle my laughter behind my hand. It's actually very fitting, and the fact that it hasn't escaped anyone's notice is borderline hilarious. "You know, I thought the same damn thing!"

"Yeah, everyone does," he assures. "And Zoey is Little Bit, for obvious reasons. Well, not that Al's name wasn't obvious."

Zoey is a petite nurse with short, spiky, black hair and a contagious smile. We've already been introduced; she flocked towards me when I first walked in, making sure we were acquainted right away. She has an easiness about her that's likeable, and according to Cameron's list, she's approved for me to hang out with.

Cameron suddenly eyes me. "We need to figure out a name for you," he announces.

"Oh, no," I refuse. I try to be polite, but the last thing I need is some mortifying nickname following me around after only my first day. "April's just fine."

"You'll like it, I promise." He claps me on the back. It kind of hurts, and I rub my shoulder with a grimace.

"I like my name," I grumble.

"It doesn't matter if you like your name, April. That's not the point." He rubs his chin thoughtfully before pulling me along. "I'll think on it a while," he concludes.

Great.

I continue following him around as we assess our patients. Today, I'm just shadowing him; tomorrow, I'll take the whole team while he sits around and lets me do all the work, also known as "I'm-a-fucking-lazy-ass-and-this-is-why-I-like-to-orient-people." It's true, especially for people like Cameron, and for them to claim otherwise is just a carefully crafted lie.

We're passing by the med room when I see Cameron tense. A tall, blonde, absolutely gorgeous doctor passes us. She's wearing a white embroidered lab coat - though everything happens so quickly that I can't make out the writing - and a stethoscope adorns her long, graceful neck. She's elegant in a pair of slacks and heels.

As she passes us, her eyes meet Cameron's. Both gazes ooze with hostility.

"Cameron." Her voice is clipped as she nods and passes him, her gaze little more than a stony glare. Cameron bristles at her tone, his entire body tensing from the strain of keeping his ridiculously large mouth shut. Oh yeah, he's definitely holding back a choice word or two.

He doesn't relax until she's out of sight. Then he turns to me. "That," he says with a burst of irritation, "is the most self-absorbed excuse for a doctor you'll meet here. I wouldn't even bother learning her name."

But now I'm madly curious, of course.

"Why? What did she do?" I ask eagerly. I'm a sucker for some good hospital gossip.

"She's a pretentious bitch," he says harshly. "Thinks she's God simply because of her title. Pfftt. I'd like to show her a thing or two about finding Jesus."

From the look in his eyes, I don't reckon he means attending church.

"Well, what's her name?" I persist. "I might have to call her or something."

"If you must know, it's Dr. fucking Hale," he says, and for a moment I think he's being funny and that he's referring to her as Satan or something.

"Dr. Hell?"

"Yes. It's very fitting, actually."

I actually know a thing or two about asshole doctors, seeing as how I've worked with them for years. It's the same scenario every time - a doctor occasionally starts out his career as a nice, modest man, then he saves a few lives, gets a few paychecks, and suddenly he thinks he's the big shit around campus - err, the hospital. And sometimes he is, but usually he isn't. And usually it's annoying. And insulting. Especially, especially, when they think they're better than the nurses - that our jobs are less important - that we're not spending twelve hours a day busting our asses to save lives, as well.

What's even more annoying is when they think they're sexy but they actually aren't. And if they are mildly cute, then God forbid, there won't be any space left over after they cram their enormous egos inside the room.

I vowed a long time ago to never date a doctor. The prospect is only good in theory - in the real world, they're cocky, they're rude, and they're usually unattractive.

But that was before I got a job at Harborview Medical Center, to be trained by a Nurse Cameron Rogers, to be introduced to a slightly arrogant and still amazingly fuck-hot Dr. Harry Styles.

This is my little doomsday of sorts, otherwise known as the day my world stopped making sense.