He watched you, closely from across the room full of biochemical medical equipment. The machines around you made it difficult to notice him; Janson was always sly like that.

As you tested some blood, you laugh at what he said to you, probably something stupid. He frowns, deeply. He knew something was going on between the two of you, just couldn't prove it fully, yet.

You were meant to be his. He doesn't share.

Then, he realized the time and slid out the room. Janson, despite having these passions for you, still had a job to do as AS of WICKED, Assistant Director.

He would speak to you later...

---

You walk through the Last City. Everyone wearing masks, wearing either scrubs or business attire. Only the best were given equity from the Flare: business CEOs, Medicare shareholders, doctors, surgeons, anyone who had the academic worth or the money.

You fiddle with your keys after finally finding yourself at the door of your apartment. It had been a long day, long shift and all you wanted to do was go to sleep. You open the door and enter.

Nothing was out sorts, you put your bag down in it's usual place, slip off your coat and then you heard him. It startled you at first, but you recognized him.

"What's his name, then?" Janson calls out. He slips in the doorway next to you which lead to the bathroom. "Young love in the medical wing, am I right, doll?" he smiles, bitterly.

You know what this is about.