JAY JAY POV
I was currently loitering in Mia's office, mostly because my own office felt a little too much like a high-end prison cell. I had already checked it out—the desk was mahogany, the chair was ergonomic, and the view of the Manila traffic was top-tier—but it was missing a soul.
It looked exactly how I'd imagined a prestigious surgeon's office to look, but I still needed to add some decorations. If I were a patient, I'd want to feel like I was actually going to survive, not like I was trapped inside a giant marshmallow. Seriously, the sheer amount of white in this building was giving me trauma. One more blank wall and I'd start seeing ghosts.
"If I stay in my office for more than ten minutes without some color, I'm going to start performing surgery on the curtains just for a change of scenery," I told Mia, who was busy organizing her files.
"It's a hospital, Jay, not a Pinterest board," Mia replied without looking up. "And stop touching my stress ball. You have your own fingers to fidget with."
"I'm a creative soul, Mia! I need vibes! I need life! I need... some of those succulent plants that are impossible to kill because God knows I don't have a green thumb," I argued, finally dropping the stress ball and spinning around in her guest chair. "Besides, if I'm going to be saving lives, I should do it in an environment that doesn't scream 'sterile abyss.'"
"You just want an excuse to go to the mall," she countered, finally looking at me with a knowing smirk.
"Guilty as charged. But it's for the patients! It's altruism!" I shrieked, making a mental list of all the things I needed to buy. A rug, maybe a lamp that didn't hum like a frustrated bee, and definitely a hidden stash of snacks for when my blood sugar decided to take a vacation.
I stood up, smoothing out my lab coat. "I'm going to go explore the cafeteria. I need to see if their samgyup-to-patient ratio is acceptable."
"Jay, actually, wait—I need you to talk to the patient I'm getting!" Mia blurted out, catching my arm before I could make a break for the cafeteria.
I froze, my dreams of hospital mystery-meat evaporating instantly. "Mia, he's your patient. I'm a surgeon. I cut people open; I don't poke around in their childhood traumas," I deadpanned, crossing my arms over my lab coat.
"I know that, but I have an emergency call from the chief! I'll be back in a few minutes, I promise!" she pleaded, practically shoving a thick manila folder into my chest. "Just talk to him. Keep him calm. You'll be fine—you did that psychology minor during your first year, remember?"
I stared at the folder like it was a ticking time bomb. "First year was ages ago! All I remember from psych class is that everyone has mommy issues and Rorschach tests look like spilled soy sauce!"
"You're charming, Jay! Just use that Luna Jay elegance or whatever. I'm going!" And just like that, Mia was sprinting down the hallway in her heels like she was in the Olympics.
I let out a long, dramatic sigh that probably echoed in the vents. Great. Day one and I'm already being demoted from surgeon to a temporary therapist. I looked down at the folder—Keigan Watson.
"Fine, but hurry up or I'm charging you interest in samgyup!" I yelled after her, though she was already gone.
I huffed and turned back to the desk, realizing I had to keep my surgical mask on because of some hospital protocol about new staff transitioning or whatever.
Dumb, right? I felt like a ninja in a lab coat, which—let's be honest—is kind of a vibe, but it makes breathing a struggle.
Then the door opened.
In walked a young man, looking a bit pale and guarded. He had that "I've seen too many doctors" look in his eyes.
"Hi, Keigan," I said, trying to modulate my voice into something soothing and not I-just-ate-my-weight-in-pork energetic.
"Hi, doc," Keigan replied, his voice small.
Then, I looked at the man standing next to him. Holy samgyup... he is hot. Like, stop-traffic-and-make-everyone-forget-their-names hot. Definitely older brother material. I mean, look at that jawline; you could perform surgery with that thing.
"You must be..." I started, trailing off as I tilted my head.
"Keifer. His older brother," he said, stepping forward. His voice was like a low rumble of thunder that skipped a beat in my chest. He reached out to shake my hand, and the second our skin touched, a jolt of electricity shot up my arm.
Wait. Do I know this guy?
A weird flash of a messy classroom and sixteen rowdy voices flickered in my brain, but I pushed it down. My memory is a blank slate, but my body felt like it wanted to jump into his arms—or at least ask him where he got his suit tailored.
"Luna Jay," I said, recovering my professional (mask-covered) smile. "You can call me Luna, or Jay... anything is fine with me."
He froze. For a split second, he looked like I'd just slapped him with a wet fishball. His eyes widened, searching mine with an intensity that made me want to hide behind Mia's potted plant. Then, he slowly nodded, his grip on my hand tightening before he let go.
"I thought it was Mia," Keigan interjected, looking between us with confusion.
"Yes, you're right. Mia is your psychiatrist, but she's running an errand. Until she comes back, I'll talk to you about some preliminary things, and then I'll hand you over to her," I explained, gesturing for them to sit.
I took a seat in Mia's big leather chair, feeling like a kid playing dress-up. I opened the file, trying to act like I wasn't distracted by the brooding hunk sitting three feet away from me.
"You're in your early twenties, right?" I asked, looking at Keigan.
Keigan nodded. "Twenty-two."
"Twenty-two," I murmured, scribbling on a notepad. "That's a good age. A bit young for a mid-life crisis, but perfect for a career in worrying too much. Don't worry, Keigan, I'm a surgeon, so if therapy doesn't work, we can just... wait, no, Mia said no cutting. Fine. Just talk to me. Tell me, on a scale of one to 'I accidentally ate a spoiled fishball,' how are we feeling today?"
I caught Keifer staring at me again. His gaze was so heavy it felt like he was trying to see through my mask, through my skin, and straight into my soul.
Relax, Luna. He's just a handsome stranger.
"What?" Keigan asked me, blinking like I'd just started speaking in Morse code.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain my professional "Doctor Luna" dignity. "I asked how you're feeling today. You know, on the emotional spectrum between 'I'm okay' and 'I want to fight a wall'?"
"Better," Keigan replied simply.
I sighed, leaning back in Mia's chair. "Better? That's it? That's so... boring, Keigan. I was hoping for something like 'awesome' or 'magnificent' or even 'I feel like a freshly grilled samgyup.' We need to work on your vocabulary of happiness."
I flipped through the file, trying to ignore the intense, burning gaze of the older brother sitting next to him. Seriously, if Keifer kept staring at me like that, I was going to start smelling smoke.
"So, tell me," I said, looking back at Keigan. "Do you have any other brothers?"
"Yeah, I have a younger brother, Keiran," Keigan said.
I nodded, standing up and grabbing a thermometer and a stethoscope from the desk. "Three boys? Wow. Your house must be a constant war zone of broken vases and missing snacks. My condolences to your furniture."
I walked over to Keigan, signaling for him to stay still. "Let me just get your temperature and your heartbeat. Standard procedure, even for the brain-doctoring stuff. We need to make sure your heart isn't racing just because Mia's office is so white."
As I pressed the cold metal of the stethoscope to his chest, I kept the conversation light. "So, you're the middle child. The bridge between the bossy older one and the annoying younger one."
Keigan nodded, a small, genuine spark of amusement appearing in his eyes.
"I have an older brother too," I told him, moving the stethoscope to listen to his lungs. "He's a bit of a protective freak, if you ask me. He practically wants to put a GPS tracker in my ear so he can find me if I stay at the mall too long."
I glanced up and caught Keifer's eyes. He had frozen. His expression was a mixture of shock and something that looked like pained recognition. He looked like he wanted to reach out and rip the mask off my face right then and there.
Why is he looking at me like I just confessed to a crime?
"Keifer, right?" I asked, stepping back from Keigan. "Is your brotherly instinct tingling? Do you also track Keigan's every move, or are you the cool older brother who lets him eat ice cream for breakfast?"
Keifer didn't answer immediately. His throat moved as he swallowed, his eyes never leaving mine.
"I'm the one who keeps him alive," he said, his voice dropping into a raspy, emotional register. "No matter what it takes. No matter how many lies I have to tell."
I blinked. Whoa. Talk about intense.
"Okay, so you're the Brooding Protector type. Got it," I joked, trying to break the heavy tension. "Keigan, your heartbeat is steady, though it jumped a bit when your brother spoke. You're fine. Physically, at least. Mentally? Well, that's Mia's problem."
I walked back to the desk, feeling Keifer's gaze follow my every move. There was something so familiar about the way he stood, the way he breathed... it was like a song I'd forgotten the lyrics to.
"So, are you still in college or...?" I started, tapping my pen against the folder.
"I finished a business major. Next week, I'll officially join the company to help Kuya," Keigan replied.
I nodded, genuinely impressed. "Business major, huh? Designing spreadsheets and making people do meetings that could have been emails? Sounds fancy. Impressive."
I glanced back down at the thick stack of papers in the file, and my professional eyebrows shot up behind my mask. "Okay, looking at your records... wow. You've changed almost twenty doctors in the past seven years. Twenty! That's like a new doctor every four months. Are you collecting them like trading cards, or are they just that bad at their jobs?"
Keigan didn't answer; he just cast a quick, hesitant look at his brother. It was that classic 'can I speak or will he jump in' look. I've seen it a thousand times with Luan.
"Keifer," I said, turning to the older brother. "If you don't mind, can I talk to Keigan alone for a few minutes? Just doctor to patient. No bossy older brothers allowed."
Keifer hesitated, his eyes lingering on my face for a heartbeat too long, like he was afraid if he looked away, I'd vanish again. Finally, he gave a slow, stiff nod. He looked at Keigan one last time before stepping out and closing the door. The moment the latch clicked, the tension in the room dropped by half.
"So," I said, leaning forward and resting my chin on my hand. "Now that the bodyguard is gone, do you want to share anything? Why the revolving door of doctors, Keigan?"
His posture crumbled immediately. His hands started to shake, and he gripped the edge of the chair until his knuckles turned white.
"It's the other Keigan," he whispered, his voice trembling. "He... he says he doesn't like the doctors. Sometimes he just wants to take control and—"
He broke off, his breathing getting shallow and ragged. I could see the panic rising in his eyes, a fracture in his expression that looked like he was fighting a war inside his own head.
"Hey, hey... it's okay. Calm down," I said softly.
I didn't think twice. I slipped out of the big chair and walked over to him, kneeling down on the floor so I was at eye level with him. I reached out and gently placed my hand over his white-knuckled ones.
"Breathe with me, Keigan. Just slowly. In and out," I murmured. "The other Keigan isn't in charge right now. You are. And I'm not like those other twenty doctors. I'm not here to poke at your brain; I'm here to listen. If the other guy has something to say, tell him he has to wait his turn because we're having a conversation."
Keigan looked at me, his eyes searching mine. "He... he says you're familiar. He says he remembers your voice."
I froze. A weird, tingling sensation crawled up my spine. Not again.
"Well," I said, forcing a small laugh to hide the sudden lump in my throat. "Maybe he has good taste in music and we liked the same songs in another life. But for now, let's just focus on you. Why doesn't he like doctors? Is it the white walls? Because honestly, I'm with him on that. They're super depressing."
Just then, the door swung open and Mia finally rushed in, looking slightly windswept.
"Jay!" she panted, adjusting her glasses.
I stood up, giving Keigan's hand a final, reassuring squeeze before stepping back. "Your actual doctor is here," I said to him with a playful wink that I hoped he could see in my eyes.
"What's the status?" Mia asked, looking between us.
"Nothing for now. I'll give you the debrief later," I said, patting her shoulder as I made my exit. I didn't want to talk about 'the other Keigan' in front of him; he looked fragile enough as it was.
I stepped out into the hallway and nearly collided with a wall of expensive suit fabric. Keifer was standing right there, looking like he hadn't moved an inch, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my breath hitch.
"How is he?" he asked immediately, his voice low and raspy.
I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms. "I didn't get to talk to him for very long, but I can tell you this: he's struggling to express himself. It's like there's a tug-of-war going on inside his head, and the 'other person' wants full control of the rope."
Keifer's jaw tightened, his gaze dropping for a second before snapping back to mine. "Can we help that? Can you help him?"
The desperation in his voice was like a physical weight
"I'm a surgeon, Keifer. I fix broken bones and ruptured organs, not fractured minds," I said, offering him a small, sympathetic smile. "Please, talk to Mia about the treatment plan. She's the best in the business. If anyone can reach him, it's her."
I started to walk away, but his voice stopped me one more time.
"Jay," he called out, the name sounding like a plea and a prayer all at once.
"Yes?" I said, turning around completely. I felt a strange fluttering in my stomach. Why did he say it like that? Like his whole world depended on how I answered to that one syllable?
"Can you please... umm, take that mask off?" he asked. His eyes were wide, filled with a desperate, terrifying hope that I couldn't understand. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if he'd fly or fall.
"Sure," I said, my hand reaching for the loops behind my ears. I didn't know why I was agreeing; usually, I'd give some witty retort about hospital germs or my secret identity, but the look on his face silenced the barakuda in me.
Just as my fingers hooked the elastic—
"Luna! We need you in the Emergency Room! There's a guy who got into a massive accident!" Zade's voice boomed through the hallway as he came running toward me, his face pale and his breathing ragged.
The professional switch in my brain flipped instantly. The mystery of the handsome stranger and the request for my face vanished.
"Oh shit! Which room is it?" I asked, my voice dropping into that sharp, authoritative tone Luan hated but my patients loved.
"A432!" he replied, already turning back toward the surgical wing.
"Move!" I barked, not at Zade, but at the air itself.
I didn't even look back at Keifer. I dropped my hand from my mask, tightened my grip on my stethoscope, and sprinted. My lab coat billowed behind me like a cape I hadn't earned yet, my sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.
Sorry, Hot Older Brother, but the samgyup and the face-reveal are going to have to wait. Someone's life is hanging by a thread, and I'm the one with the needle.
We disappeared around the corner, leaving the lobby behind.
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