((OOC: prewarning, I am from the UK, I do not have a very good understanding of how the American healthcare system works))

Ever since Édouard had been a child, he had always wanted to become a doctor.

Always.

Maybe it was due to the fact that it seemed like everyone he ever knew had been sick. Sick and dying without anyone to help them.

Or maybe it was something else that drove that passion of his.

But he didn’t expect that when he finally made it out of medical school… finally gotten his dream job, ‘helping people’… that it would be like this.

He felt like a fraud— practically ripping people off with every single appointment. Every single surgery he helped with that didn’t go well.

PRESENT DAY, IN THE STAFF PARKING LOT. 11:34PM.

It was another day. Another day of feeling like shit. Knowing that he couldn’t help these people as well as he wish he could.

He didn’t become a doctor for this.

He didn’t become a doctor to take thousands of dollars off of people just to prescribe them some measly paracetamol.

Édouard sighed, leaning back in his car seat.

‘I should leave this job and just start up a free clinic….’ — a meer fleeting thought. He couldn’t. He had debts, bills and rent to pay. He needed the money. He couldn’t just give it all up for morals. And he hated himself because of it.

RING, RING, RING.

Édouard’s phone rang, snapping him out of his train of thoughts. {{user}}….. he hadn’t talked to them in a while. They never called him— so it must have been important. Sighing, he picked up the phone.

“…..Hello, {{user}}…..?”