His next words confirmed my suspicion he knew exactly what I was thinking. “It’s a good thing the position isn’t a popularity contest, then.” He stepped back and his face became a neutral mask—the one he more usually presented at work.
He was efficient, but cold and laser focused on the ailment rather than the patient, and that was where we differed, because I, on the other hand, was a well-rounded doctor. I knew technique and how to diagnose and treat, and also how to make a patient comfortable no matter how dire a situation we found ourselves in. I prided myself on good, old-fashioned bedside manner. It was a priority in my game—like defense in basketball, or the right wrench for a mechanic. I always aimed for perfection.
But I nodded, agreeing with him. It was a very good thing for Jun that it wasn’t a popularity contest. “You know, that might be true. But a combination of competency and personality can take a person a long way.”
With a whirr and a clunk, the elevator arrived on our floor, and the doors swooshed open. I cast Jun a quick glance, but he didn’t move, so I exhaled a small sigh of relief and stepped inside alone. As I turned to face him, he glared at me.
I gave him a quick wave. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” I coupled my words with a smile as the doors closed, cutting off anything he would have said in return.
There was nothing quite like the satisfaction of the last word. Particularly as I rarely exercised that part of myself around my brothers, usually opting to take the high road in any situation.
But as the doors closed and the elevator started to move, I lumped against the corner. Shit. I hadn’t banked on Crow throwing Jun into the mix. I’d been so sure my next title would be chief of staff— not head physician or whatever interim title Crow had gifted to both of us while he pitted us against each other.
That didn’t even feel like recognition. It was some form of punishment, plain and simple. Punishment or torture anyway.
A title change wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone in my department—they knew I was working my way up and the levels to which my ambition wanted me to climb. Anxiety gnawed at my insides. What if I couldn’t get that far, though? What if this one time, Jun somehow outdid me?
I shook my head. I just couldn’t let that happen.
The elevator juddered to a gentle stop and I stepped out onto my floor. A nurse bustled by, and a patient wheeled their IV slowly along next to them farther down the corridor. Machines bleeped in the various side-rooms and the phone at the nurses’ station rang as I stepped right back into work mode. I’d used my game face upstairs, but down here I slipped into professional mode. I glanced at the clock. With twelve plus hours left to go on my day, professional mode would probably slide into over-caffeinated and slightly cranky before I clocked out, but at least I was starting off right.
I rolled my shoulders and relaxed as I slipped my stethoscope into my pocket, shoving away this contest with Jun. It was no different than medical school, after all.
I just had to prove—once again—that Kairo Caldwell was better than Jun Park.
Jun
Thursday
As I rang my parents’ doorbell, I swallowed and pushed my glasses back into place. I’d been summoned for dinner, and I couldn’t even get out of it by saying I had a shift because somehow it felt wrong to flat-out lie.
Mom answered the door and I bent forward to press a dutiful kiss to her cold, smooth cheek. She stepped back afterward without so much of a smile of welcome.
I moved into the house after her, and she turned and walked to the dining table, where she would have already set the table, and Dad would already be seated.
As I entered the room, my Aunt Jenny stood and flung her arms around me.
“This is a nice surprise,” I said as she stepped away.
And it genuinely was. She was Dad’s sister, but they were nothing alike—thank fuck. The world didn’t deserve two of my dad.
Speaking of… I glanced over Aunt Jenny’s shoulder to where Dad sat.
“Dad.” I nodded at him and he gave me a terse nod in return before gesturing for me to sit down.
Very little got between my father and his set meal times.
“Sit down, Jun.” Mom was equally as abrupt but a little more vocal about it.
I sat as slowly as I could, trying to prolong the moment when all conversation turned to business. My business.
“How are you doing, Jun?” Aunt Jenny smiled as she asked her question, and I relaxed a little.
She wasn’t at all like my parents, and the question sounded like genuine concern for me. Except it backfired.
“Yes, tell us about your work.” Dad paused as Mom spooned some japchae onto his plate, then took the bowl of kimchi Aunt Jenny handed him before returning his narrow-eyed gaze back to me. “Did you get that promotion?”
It wasn’t even a question. It was a demand, pure and simple. Perhaps a command. Either way, it didn’t leave room for argument.
I served my own japchae, buying time as I considered my options. The truth was, I didn’t have any. I swallowed down my revulsion at lying to my parents.
“Sure. I…uh…” I swallowed again. “I got the job.” Then I ducked my head to avoid Dad’s scrutiny.
It wasn’t like they’d ever know. They never came to see me at work, never even seemed to visit the hospital in any capacity at all, so they wouldn’t find out if someone else’s name—Kairo blared through my thoughts like a loud and ugly airhorn—was on the chief of staff’s door.
“Oh!” Mom’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ of disbelief and she clapped her hands in a miniature round of applause. “That’s wonderful news. It’s wonderful, isn’t it, Bon-hwa?” She took an extra-large mouthful of samgyeopsal almost like she just couldn’t contain her excitement but didn’t know what to do with the extra enthusiasm.
Dad waved his fork in my direction as he chewed. “I hope the ink’s dry on that contract. It had better actually be yours when you’re telling us all this. You have to prove you’re the best.”
I glanced away and rolled my eyes. This was the story of my life. The doubt of how much I could achieve juxtaposed up against needing maximum achievement from me all the time.
Aunt Jenny covered my hand with hers. “Jun has proven time and time again how successful and capable he is. In fact, I think he works entirely too hard.” She paused and turned to me before smiling. “He should be proud of himself no matter what.” She sent me a small wink, and I nodded slightly, acknowledging her support in a way I hoped didn’t draw attention to it.
The rest of the evening passed in much the same way with questions about my achievements and even my future prospects. I crossed my fingers under the table and reminded them I’d only just gotten a promotion, so it was a little early to be thinking of taking over the hospital just yet.
By the end of dinner, my nerves were frazzled and frayed, and my hands trembled from the endless scrutiny.
I feigned swallowing a yawn. “I’m sorry. I’m really very tired. I should probably go home and sleep.”
“Of course. Oh, you have such responsibility now. You must get your sleep.” Mom stood up to bring me my coat and guilt crept through me. I hated deceiving people, even if it felt like it might almost be for a good cause.