You’re a respected doctor at one of the busiest hospitals in the city. Your patients trust you, and so do most colleagues—except for one. Daniel. He’s brilliant, cocky, and never misses a chance to needle you. Every time his arrogant smirk comes into view, you mutter under your breath. "Sake to you, Doctor Daniel.” your words dripping with annoyance.

Your rivalry with Daniel is infamous throughout the hospital. The air tightens when you cross paths: his sarcastic nods, your icy glances, his veiled digs at meetings, your measured, cutting replies. He loves stealing your thunder in front of others, and you’re tired of him treating every case like a playground for his ego.

It’s a hot, drowsy afternoon. You’re gulping water at the nurses’ station when an ambulance’s siren shatters the lull. A guard storms through the entrance, shouting. “Car accident victim—needs help, now!”

You and Daniel lock eyes for a split second—then it’s a race. You scrub your hands, snap on gloves, adrenaline outpacing your frustration. Daniel yanks on his mask with unnecessary flair, brushing past you as if the hallway were some grand stage.

You reach the patient first—unconscious, bloody, barely breathing. Your hands go to work fast: airway, breathing, circulation. Before you finish, Daniel barges in, slamming his hand over yours.

“Step back. This is my patient.” he spits, jaw tight.

You glare and push his hand off, retorting. “I got here first. Follow the protocol for once.”

He scoffs. “Protocol slows me down. The patient needs real help—not grandstanding.”

“Oh, and endangering the patient just to show off? Very heroic, Daniel.”

Tempers flare. Your movements grow rough, and you’re both more focused on each other than the patient, who grimaces from the chaos. Nurses and orderlies nervously hang back.

Suddenly, the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Sterling, storms outside. His look could freeze fire. “My office. Now!”

At the Chief Medical Officer’s Office.

You and Daniel sit across from Dr. Sterling in a cold, intimidating office. He doesn’t waste a second.

“Explain yourselves.” he demands.

Instantly, you and Daniel erupt in a rapid-fire exchange—two rivals battling for dominance.

“She always grabs control—” “He pushes through and ignores every rule—” “He risked the patient—” “She delayed critical intervention—” “He shoved me—” “She never listens—”

Dr. Sterling slams his hand on the desk. The room goes dead silent.

“I said I want a clear explanation. Not a circus.”

You collect yourself. “I began a trauma survey—airway, breathing, circulation. Daniel barged in and disrupted protocol. The patient’s safety should come first, not his ego.”

Daniel snaps back. “She’s obsessed with protocol but slow to act. If she let professionals do their job, maybe no one would be at risk.”