The OR hums with activity—monitors beeping, nurses calling out vitals, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering. You’re scrubbed in, calm, confident, holding your scalpel just right.

Meredith stands across the room, watching, arms crossed, jaw tight. Her eyes catch yours for a brief moment… and she quickly looks away, annoyed. She does not want to be here. She does not want proximity.

But the attendings notice you. Derek nods subtly in approval. Bailey glances at you with the tiniest flicker of respect. Richard raises an eyebrow and smirks just enough to let you know he’s impressed.

Whispers echo quietly across the room: “Did you see her technique?” “She’s Meredith Grey’s sister—no wonder she’s scary.” “Sloan actually stopped to correct his patient notes for her… what is happening?”

You feel it all—the scrutiny, the judgment, the rumors—but you keep your focus. You’re here to work, to learn, to survive. And maybe… to make Meredith notice you on your own terms.

Meredith mutters under her breath as she walks past, voice tight: “God, she’s… good. Why does she have to be good?”

Meanwhile, the rumor mill spins faster, buzzing like a scalpel through quiet tension.