Chapter One

Life for rent – Dido

"It's only a mild case of dermatitis, do you have any allergies?" I ask my patient who stares blatantly at me, his spiked brown hair reminding me of the nineties ere.

"Not that I know of, it only happens when I do dishes."

Resting my head in my hand, silently praising the fact that this teen is my last patient for the day, "Have you thought about wearing gloves, avoiding contact with the soapy water? Or trying a less toxic dish detergent?"

Ryan frowns, "Yeah, but I work at McDonalds, it's too much of a hassle to pull my gloves off every time someone needs me, and the shop has a special type of detergent under health and safety to keep the dishes sterilized."

Whoa, McDonalds have a health and safety policy they apply to. I grab my pen and write down on a prescription piece of paper, "I'm going to prescribe you Psoria ointment, apply twice daily and it should go away. But honestly, I would be seriously considering if the food business is the right road for you."

Looking grim, he nods and grabs the prescription, I hand him the pen, "Just need you to sign the bottom."

Signing and thanking me, he leaves my office with hunch shoulders. Hearing the door close I put my copy of the prescription and stapling it to my notes of his appointment and place it into his portfolio. Picking up my brown –fake- leather suitcase and the portfolio, I walk into reception after locking my office. I hand Ryan's portfolio over to the recently hired receptionist, Angela, and smile, "Done for the day."

"You know it," Grabbing the folder, "Any plans for the weekend?"

I shake my head, "Nothing special, I have to meet Jake at the noodle bar after work and probably just the gym tomorrow."

She gives me a grim smile, "Sounds exciting, I'm going to the movies this weekend with my boyfriend."

"I didn't know you have a boyfriend." I stretch out my neck and fix up my collar of my very cozy jacket.

Putting the folio in amongst others in a filing cabinet, she replies, nodding, "Ben, we've been dating for eight months now."

"Good for you." I force a smile.

Before either of us could say anything Rebecca walked out of her office and locked the door. Turning to me she gives me a thankful smile, "You're a miracle worker, you've only been here for three months and already you're picking up slack with Jessica not in today." She rolls her eyes, knowing that Jessica only took the day off today to look in bridal catalogues for her upcoming wedding…Next year.

I grin, "Its what they pay me for."

Shaking her head, she walks further into reception and hands Angela her last patients folio as I had moments ago, "I still can't believe you took this job, you're way over qualified. Aren't you a surgeon?"

"I studied surgery, yeah, but I had enough credit for GP as well."

"If you can pull bullets out of victims and cancer out of body then why are you writing prescriptions' for the diabetic?"

"Same reason you are." Which I have no idea what that reason is.

She rolls her eyes, "My mother was a GP, you've seen how reception gets, and how far the into the future the appointments go. We need more family practitioners up and about."

"Couldn't say it better myself." I cover.

"You meeting Jacob tonight?"

I nod, "Yeah, noodle bar in ten minutes."

She nods, smiling suggestively, she replies, "Have a great weekend Bella."

"You too, see you next week."

"See you."

I widen my eyes to Angela and sign, laughing, "Have fun at the movies"

She smiles genuinely, "Thanks, I will."

Gripping my suitcase, I leave the surgery with my car keys in hand. Unlocking my small black hatchback, I shove my bag onto the passenger seat and drive off. I roll my neck, feeling the love hate relationship of being a simple family general practitioner. It has it's up. It's simple. You know where you stand. You know when you start. You know when you end. And it has its down sides. It's simple. You know what's wrong with the patient before they come into the surgery. You know that today will be the same as tomorrow, and tomorrow as the next day.

I thought that living the simple life would be what I want. I've worked in a hospital and completed my internship, handing clamps to the surgeons who've been there for years and occasionally holding one yourself. I've done half of my residency – completing a total of nine solo surgeries. I've even worked in a cancer research lab for three months before becoming a vegetarian. I've lived in four cities, and now on the outskirts of Chicago, and already I know that the 'simple' life will not work out for me.

Already knowing that I will be putting in a letter of resignation in a few short weeks, I pull into the noodle bar to see my black haired, tanned boyfriend sitting on a stool, chowing down on his noodles. I grab the purse out of my bag and lock the car door as I walk up to his sitting figure. Hearing footsteps, he turns around and gives me a handsome smile, putting a hand on my back and kisses my cheek, "Hey honey, how's work."

"Work is work, don't get me started." I say bluntly, looking up at the menu, knowing full well what I want and what I've got to say to the man I've recently acquired with the new job.

Deciding it's best to do it over a full stomach, I order a vegetarian rice and coke, my legs crossed as my left foot taps lightly against the stool. Jake puts his hand on my leg, "How've you been?"

I rest my elbow on the bar and support my cheek in my hand, "Yeah, good. Yourself?"

He grins, his white teeth glistening in the fluorescence, "I got the promotion."

"That's great."

"Really? You don't sound enthusiastic." He gulps, his teeth clamp together as shown by the outline of his wide jaw.

Great, I wanted to have dinner first, "Look, Jake…"

His hand retreats from my leg, "Don't worry Bella, I knew I didn't have much chance of keeping you." He picks up his chopsticks and eats more of his dinner.

"It's not you, and it's not that I don't like you. I'm just…not feeling it."

His face a bitter amuse, "Please don't give me that."

I frown, "I'm serious Jacob. I honestly don't feel I can be happy with anyone at the moment unless I'm happy with myself."

"And why aren't you happy?"

"I…" Slightly taken aback, "honestly don't know. Look, life change, ambitions change. It just feels while everyone else is settling in, I'm falling out."

He stops chewing, swallows, "You're moving, aren't you?"

"I might be." Not confirming anything.

"So what? You screw around my sisters surgery, screw around with me and now you leave without looking at damage control."

"I really don't think much damage is done Jake. I've been here three months, and dated you for two. Your sister can just as easily find another GP as she found me." I explain, I pull a tug of his hair sheltering him from me and pull it behind his ear, "You're a great guy Jake, you're cute as hell and any girl will be lucky to have a barrister as a boyfriend."

"But you."

"But me."

At the most awkward of time, the cook comes out and puts a bowl of very tasty smelling rice in front of me – only now my appetite was almost non-existent. Just to have me doing something and not stare at my ex who is glaring at the walls with fireballs, I start to shovel the rice into my mouth, looking straight ahead.

Jake finishes before me, pulling out a twenty and leaves it on the counter, enough to pay for the both of us and a tip. He turns to me, and I him, "So…If you leave and you're ever in town again…come find me."

I smile at him, his homeboy charm being the reason why I agreed to dating him in the first place. I nod, both knowing I won't even if I did. Kissing me on the forehead, he leaves the bar, and with no appetite to eat the rest, I grab my bottle of coke and second his motion. His black SUV parked next to mine, he gives me a nod as he jumps into the car. I sigh, feeling the iron cuffs fall from my feet as I slide into the car.

I know I shouldn't, but so far every relationship I've been in makes me feel trapped. Like I'm missing precise opportunities the longer I'm with the person, and only bringing them more pain the longer I entertain the act. What if an opportunity comes and I'm attached? The idea of my story ending before it starts is by far my great fear.

Driving down the lonely twilight street, I pull into the underground parking lot of my apartment building. Slamming the door behind me and locking it, the thoughts of my grand escape evade me.

I will look up tonight for job opportunities in California, I always thought that living in the sun, on a beach would be a dream come true, it's time to turn it into a reality. It's not like there's anything left to stop me.

Turning to endeavor into the building, a methane smelling cloth is pressed into my face and a strong arm around my back as the lights of the parking lot begins to fade into the nonexistent distance.