A/N: Hey, guys! First and foremost, I cannot say thank you enough. I really, really can't. I am more than just happy to see you guys excited for this story, and very, very appreciative of the feedback you've all been giving me so far. Honestly, it makes my day.
So alright…a bit of an important note for this chapter: I wanted John's first day as a doctor to be similar to his first day of work on the show. This chapter has scenes straight from the pilot (changed a bit, but very similar) You'll know them when you see them, though it'll be obvious when other things are changed around. I wanted to point this out beforehand, just to let you guys know that the rest of the story will not be like this chapter, in that the story will not be one massive re-write of the series. After this, it'll be completely different. (Well, there will be nods to the show, of course, but I think you know what I mean) Anyway, I hope that doesn't turn you guys away from the story, and that you enjoy the next chapter all the same.
Disclaimer: I own a very large nothing.
"Feeling the moment slip away. You're losing direction, you're losing faith; you're wishing for someone."
-Feeling a Moment, by Feeder -
Chapter 1:
John stood outside the worn down hospital, looking on at the building with visible apprehension.
Sleeping hadn't come easy last night, so the assassin had chosen to spend his insomnia ridden hours reading medical books. This didn't manage to captivate the young man nearly as much as it normally did, causing the brunet to delve further into the file that held all the details needed for his last under cover mission.
Sacred Heart Hospital, his new place of work, was a run down, inner city teaching hospital. Definitely not the grand sort of building you saw in all of the movies, but John found himself okay with the structure all the same. It was a hospital, and he, under the guise of a doctor, was actually going to be given the opportunity to save people, rather than take their lives…
You do save people, his inner monologue told him for about the millionth time, desperate to get his point across. You save a lot of people by the one life you take. Just think of that pilot; that evil man who had been so ready to plunge your fellow flight attendants and all of those innocent passengers into the Pacific. You saved them!
But that pilot was still a life. He was still living and breathing and I took that from him.
It's your job. You have to do it. Besides…don't the ends sometimes justify the means?
No. No, they don't.
John shook his head. This was no time for serious contemplation, especially one he'd had with himself more times than he cared to remember. Right now, he had to get into character. Let's see…a very nervous intern on his first day of work as a real doctor. Yeah…not hard, considering that's exactly how he was feeling at the moment. Of course, he would feel a lot better if he at least knew who his new target was.
Ah, the one thing about his file that had only furthered his inability to sleep last night. Usually, the details of his mission would contain a picture of his target, a name, a date of birth, an address, a social security number and, well…pretty much everything that was needed for his line of duty. But this time, his new target remained unidentified, and in its place had laid a note clearly written by the Superior.
Your target is to remain unknown to you for the time being, as well as my reasoning. Just focus on your new role and keep an eye out.
"Keep an eye out?" An eye out for what? The obvious answer was the target, but since he had no knowledge of who it was he had to kill next, this was clearly not the case.
All John knew for certain was this: It was his last mission, he was anxious, and for the next year, he was to go under the identity of one John "JD" Dorian – a nervous and awkward intern, eager to begin his life as a doctor.
Which was not, he realized yet again, a far stretch from the truth.
--
"The hospital doesn't want to be sued. Being sued is not a good thing."
John shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He hadn't expected orientation to focus so much on the inevitable possibility of law suits. What made it even stranger, however, was that the lawyer in front of him seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than he did. Not exactly comforting…
The person next to him, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease. He was slouched in his chair, chugging down what appeared to be a can of Sprite. The brunet wriggled in his seat a little. He wanted to start a conversation; wanted to make some friends in this intimidating atmosphere, but – No! his inner monologue warned him for about the millionth time over. You always do this! You're going to start a simple conversation and then get drawn in. You're going to get attached. Only talk to him if he starts the conversation, and even if that happens, be as civil as you can without getting too close, alright?
It was at that moment precisely that the man beside him looked in his direction, a small grin playing across his face as he noticed the brunet shifting awkwardly. "Not what you expected, huh? Me neither."
John smiled. Well, he started the conversation, so… "I sort of thought we'd be focusing more on the patients."
The bald headed man shrugged. "I'm sure we'll get there eventually. Hey…you surgical or medical?"
"Medical. You?"
"Surgical. That's cool though. So what's your name?"
"JD. And you?"
"Christopher, but call me Turk."
JD smiled, glad he was not the only one who was going under a different name… "Turk," he repeated. "Nice to meet you."
"Ditto, man."
A voice, mournful and slow, cut in to their conversation. JD looked up, eyebrows furrowed together at the sight that was "Alcohol + Surgery = No, No" on the dry erase board. "Finally, doctors, if there is a mistake, don't admit it to the patient. Of course, if the patient is deceased – and you're sure – you can feel free to tell him or her…anything!" JD stared on, concerned and more than just a little apprehensive, as the sweaty man before them gave out an anxious, paranoid sounding laugh, placing himself in the chair by the board and putting his head in his hands.
It was at that moment that another man walked in; a man that immediately raised the trained assassin's suspicion.
"Okay, gang," the new presence started up, "I'm Doctor Bob Kelso, and I'm your Chief of Medicine. I just want to encourage you all to think of me as your safety net, because I promise you…we're a family here."
JD tried to smile with the rest of the class, but something just wasn't right. Something felt…off.
"Now then," he continued on with what appeared to be genuine support, "Go get 'em doctors."
The brunet stood up with the rest of the interns, but not before eyeing the older man that had already turned his back on their small group. This Chief of Medicine…he wasn't who he appeared to be. He knew it; he sensed it. It was an instinct he had sharpened to borderline perfection through out his years of being an assassin, and he trusted it. Something was off with this Bob Kelso, and JD knew then and there that he'd be looking into him further.
--
After saying goodbye to Turk, John found himself making his way over to the doctor's lounge, trying not to grin at how cool he felt wearing his first ever pair of scrubs. While he knew it was important to focus on the mission, he just couldn't help but feel excited. Here he was – a doctor! He was getting a chance to partake in his life long dream; a dream that had been denied of him ever since the passion for it was born. Was he really expected not to feel like a kid at Christmas? After all…he had a whole year to complete his mission. Today was only his first day. Was he really not allowed to be excited?
"Did you get your beeper yet?"
The brunet turned around sharply. So sharply, in fact, that the girl who had spoken to him jumped, causing the unusually awkward assassin to almost trip over his own two feet. John swallowed, clearly embarrassed. "I, uh…no. Didn't get it yet."
"Oh… Well, our Resident's at the nurse's station, handing them out. I would go down there and get one, if I were you. He seems sort of like a tool, you know? I mean, hey, don't get me wrong; I admire all the doctors here. How could you not? But I'll admit that I'm nervous. I mean, I know this kind of thing comes naturally to some people, but do you know how hard I had to work to be where I am now? Not to mention the pressure from my dad. But I guess I can't complain too much since he's paying for me to be here, but really –"
"I, um…I'm sorry, but…what was your name again?"
"Huh? Oh, right! Sorry. Sometimes, I – well sometimes, I ramble, but that's not important. Anyway, I'm Elliot. Elliot Reid. And you?"
"Hey, Elliot. I'm JD."
The blonde smiled at him, blue eyes sparkling as she did so. She reminded John vaguely of one of the flight attendants he had just worked along side of, though this girl seemed just a little more neurotic. Well, that was alright. In a strange way, it was kind of endearing, and she seemed friendly enough, at least.
"Nice to meet you then," she finally answered. "Anyway, you better run down there; before all the good beepers get taken."
Elliot gave the brunet one last smile, and JD was happy to discover that he didn't have to try hard at all to return the gesture.
--
Neurotic or not, Elliot had been right about their new resident. Of course, he was really in no position to call somebody else a tool, considering what he did for a living… After all, had the Superior ever killed anyone? As far as he or the rest of them knew, no. He was just the guy who gave out the orders, yet for one reason or another, he managed to set fear into all of them; his tools.
John shook his head. He couldn't let that bring him down. Right now, he had to focus. Focus on his job – both of his jobs – and not screw up in either of them.
A sudden and very high pitched noise caused the assassin to jump where he stood. What the…? Oh, right! His beeper. Wow, already? He didn't expect things to start so, well, quickly.
JD rushed to the room in which he had been summoned, surprised to see that a nurse was already there before him.
The woman, who had been handling an IV bag, turned to stare in his direction. A warm smile, albeit slightly teasing, took over her expression as she watched him; his face flushed from the run as he panted in the room's doorway. "Hey," he started up shyly. "I was, uh…I was paged."
"Aw, first day, Bambi?"
"Bambi?" Do I really look that vulnerable?
"Don't worry," the Latina woman continued, bringing JD back into the moment. "Carla will take care of you."
John walked over to her side, his posture still undeniably awkward. While he wasn't yet sure if he liked his new nickname, he was sure that he liked the tone in which it was given to him. There was something very warm about this nurse; very protective.
It felt nice.
Before he could even get into an argument with himself about whether or not it was appropriate to try and get a conversation going, the Latina woman spoke up, alerting him at once to what it was they were doing there. "We're waiting for Dr. Cox."
Dr. Cox…? She said the name as if he was supposed to know who he was. Oh crap…he wasn't that tool of a resident, was he? What was his name again…? But his curiosity over whether or not he knew said man was answered just seconds later.
Like a storm without warning, the doctor burst into the room; coat tails flying behind him as he snapped on a pair of those surgical gloves JD had always wanted to blow up into balloons. Okay, now was not the time for that…
John looked back up at the man before him, his very presence demanding the attention that JD seemed either unwilling or unable to deny him.
"Hi, Doctor, I'm –"
"Place an IV for me."
Talk about being shot down. "We'll talk later," he responded hurriedly.
It wasn't until the IV was actually handed to him did JD fully understand what had just been requested. An IV. In someone's skin. A patient's skin. A patient – a breathing, living, being. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh –
"Carla, can I ask you a personal question? Do you spray the perfume on or do you just fill your bathtub up with it at home and splash around in it?"
"I smell nice."
JD breathed. Okay, that was funny. Just take that positive energy and apply it to the patient. Relax; breathe. You've read this procedure and ones much more complicated a million times over. Just poke it through his skin. Poke it through! Now!
A sharp, demanding whistle brought JD back to attention. He was ashamed to see how much his hands were shaking. But more than that, he was ashamed to see just how un-surprised the older man appeared by the scene before him.
"Time's up. Carla, would you do it for him please? I'm also gonna need an AVG."
JD swallowed. He couldn't believe what he was about to say next, but – "Why are you telling her?"
He had expected anger. In fact, a part of him had wanted it; some kind of confirmation that the man before him regarded him as, well, anything; anything worth addressing for more than two seconds; someone that he could at least make eye contact with. But the curly haired doctor simply turned to face the comatose patient, eyes bored as he let out a dry sounding, "Shut up and watch."
"Be nice to Bambi!" Carla suddenly chimed in.
JD turned back to Dr. Cox then, hopeful that he would heed to her request and act upon it, but his gaze still remained on the patient, his next comment completely unrelated to the nurse's. "Why does this gomer got to try and die every day during my lunch?"
JD frowned. Okay, he knew he was new at this; knew the man before him was much more experienced. But God…he had wanted to be a doctor ever since he was a little kid. He tried not to let it get to him, but it sort of…bothered him a little; that someone could just so casually talk about a patient like that. "That was a little insensitive…"
The same blue eyes he had wanted aimed in his direction only moments ago darted up to him now; very alert and very, very annoyed. JD swallowed. What in God's name had he been thinking when the thought that even negative attention from this doctor would be acceptable? Mistake.
"The man's ninety-two years old, he has full dementia, he doesn't even know we're here, he is inches from Carla's rack and he hasn't even flinched."
"That is so sweet," the nurse sing-songed.
Dr. Cox nodded. "Yeah it is."
JD shifted awkwardly. Okay, that wasn't too bad, was it? Maybe if he could just keep the conversation going, it would lead to somewhere. Maybe if he could get a better feel for the doctor, it could lead to somewhere positive. "What about his subconscious?"
Much to the brunet's surprise, the auburn haired man turned away from him, dipping down to the patient's level and placing his mouth close to his ear. "Eisenhower…was a sissy." Dramatically, the older man pounced back; fists raised in a fighting stance as he watched for a reaction that he knew would not come, earning himself a small, amused smile from Carla.
JD swallowed as he turned back to him, eyes still sharp and irritated. "I think by the grace of God, we're going to be okay. Oh, and from now on? Whenever I'm in the room, you're definitely not allowed to talk."
And just like that, the older doctor was gone, leaving a smiling nurse and a clearly nervous intern. JD watched him go, heart pounding in embarrassment.
Not exactly the first impression he'd been aiming for.
--
The next several hours was a blur of chaos and frazzled nerves. Never in his life had JD felt so utterly naïve for thinking he'd be able to pull this one off. Memorizing procedures was one thing, but actually performing them? Totally different ball park. It was his seventh hour in on his first day of work, and not a single procedure he'd been assigned to had been done by his shaking, nervous hands. There was always a nurse around, quick to grab whatever tool he'd been using and shoo him away. "Lost puppies," he heard one of them mutter as he walked away from an old woman's bedside, head down and heart racing. "That's what these interns are, you know," she muttered to the patient that couldn't even hear. "Lost puppies."
JD didn't have it in him to retaliate. Because really, what could he say? She was right. He knew it, he hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it.
"How ya' holding up?"
The brunet turned around, startled. He had recognized the voice instantly, his assassin alarm ringing loudly in his ears. Okay...maybe he was failing at being a doctor, but the under cover investigation thing he could still do.
JD did a quick look around before replying, relieved to see that they were the only ones in the room. Now was his chance to break whatever façade this man had been trying desperately to portray. But how?
"I saw that you're still pushing to put Mrs. Pratt on the transplant list. Bad news though, Sport. She doesn't have the insurance to cover it."
JD frowned. Mrs. Pratt – the one patient he had actually been managing to help so far. Of course, if Dr. Kelso wouldn't allow her on the transplant list, then all of his work would mean nothing, and Mrs. Pratt, well…she would die.
No, he wouldn't have that. He couldn't. "Yeah, but she's like…a second away from total renal failure."
"Okay… Uh, did you ask the Borski family for permission to do an autopsy?"
JD swallowed, his eyes shifting to the floor for a moment in shame. Mr. Borski… He thought he'd been doing a good job at helping him out as well, but he had died shortly after his last conversation with him. JD had promised he'd check up on him again, but before he had even gotten the chance… "They're still in there with him, so…"
"It's a teaching hospital, son," Kelso responded with a low chuckle. "You gotta ask."
John closed his eyes. Life. He had taken so many. Ninety-nine, to be exact. And yet he had never, never been forced to go and talk to those related to the lives he'd been trained to assassinate. Never had he been forced to confront the faces of the target's family and friends. Though they had managed to confront him. In his nightmares, of course, but still…
Dear, God. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be a doctor. He just…he couldn't! More than anything, he had wanted to help save people; he had wanted to help save lives. He had always wanted that! But what was he doing here now? What was he thinking!? That he could actually pull this charade off? That the lives he might end up saving could somehow atone for all the ones he'd taken? No. No, he just…he couldn't. It was too much. And he…he wasn't worthy.
He wasn't worthy of being a doctor.
John bit the inside of his mouth, both ashamed and frustrated with his absolute failure. Finally, he had obtained everything he'd ever wanted, and he had failed. Miserably.
He needed to get out. He needed to call the Superior and request for another assignment. "Sir, do you think…do you think I could skip just this one?"
JD was surprised when Dr. Kelso removed himself from the couch, his assassin trained body backing up a few steps as the warning bells went off inside his head. That's right – this man had a mask on too. He had almost forgotten, but maybe now he'd get a glimpse; just a glimpse to confirm his suspicion that this was, in fact, the man that was supposed to be his target.
"Why sure, Sport!" he responded just a little too kindly. "In fact, why don't you just head on home? You look kind of tired."
JD squirmed a little, not enjoying the hand that Kelso had placed on his shoulder during his last comment. Not quite knowing what to say, the brunet stuttered out a little, "I am kind of tired…"
And that did it. The straw he had been aiming to break. With little to no transition, the mask of happy-go-lucky Bob Kelso slipped off at once, his blue eyes piercing as he looked up at him; expression twisted with rage. "Dr. Dorian – do you not realize that you're nothing but a large pair of scrubs to me? For God's sake! The only reason I carry this chart around is so I can pretend to remember your damn names! Now look! If the patient has insurance, you treat them, and if they don't, you show them the door! And if somebody dies, you get the autopsy! YOU GET IT BY ROUNDS TOMORROW MORNING OR I'LL BE SCRATCHING YOUR NAME OFF MY CHART! ARE WE CLEAR!? ANSWER ME!"
JD swallowed. Hard. Bob Kelso; he had to be the target. It was unmistakable. No wonder the Superior had told him to keep an eye out! The answer was right there in front of him! "Crystal clear," John responded, his answer more to his realization than to the older man's enraged induced speech.
"Great, Sport," the doctor purred mockingly. And with one final shoulder tap, he was gone.
JD sighed. He knew now, he knew. Bob Kelso was the target, but really…did it even matter? He was done. Finished. He couldn't be a doctor. His mother had been right, and he was a fool to have thought otherwise…
The familiar ringing of his pager startled him out of his defeated reverie. JD tried not to moan. He had failed, okay, but the least he could do was make it through his last first day.
Quickly, the brunet ran to where he had been summoned, his heart picking up pace when he saw the familiar forms of both Carla and Dr. Cox. JD swallowed. The last thing he needed right now was to mess up in front of the doctor that had only denounced him just hours ago.
"Car accident. Crashed on the elevator on the way up," Carla informed him hurriedly.
"We gotta relieve the pressure in his chest. JD – do it."
The intern's attention focused on him at once, surprised that he was being called upon at a time like this. Hadn't this man witnessed what a horrible job he'd been doing all day long? Why on earth did he think he could pull something like this off? He had been right to dismiss him earlier, and that, JD realized, was why it had hurt so much. He admired this man. A lot. He was the image of a real doctor; a good doctor. The kind of person JD had always wanted to be… So why was he, of all people, calling on him now? What did he think he could possibly accomplish?
"Look at me."
JD obeyed.
The brunet didn't know how long the stare lasted, but just for a moment – the beeping of machines, the frantic hustling of nurses, the chaos that was the hospital as a whole – stopped. All of it stopped.
And for one, quiet moment, it was just him and Dr. Cox.
The stare was silent; strong. But beneath its vibrant blue gaze, JD saw it; the very thing he himself had been lacking almost all day long. Faith.
"You can do this."
JD could not describe what happened to him then. Those words, spoken with such confidence, awakened the noises that had stilled for however long their exchange had taken place. But more than that, it awakened in him what he was so sure he had lost. His drive. His determination. His dream. The dream he'd had ever since he was a little kid.
How, for even a moment, could he have thought of giving that up?
"Chest tube tray," he finally managed, choosing to ignore the small squeak his voice gave. He grabbed the tools Carla presented to him at once, his hands stumbling over them before managing a proper grasp.
"C'mon, baby, let's go. Chop, chop."
JD nodded to himself, energized by the older man's words. It wasn't until he brought the scalpel to the patient's skin did he really hesitate.
Only had he ever injured another to take away life. Now…now he was doing the exact opposite of everything he'd been trained to do. Could he really - ?
"JD! Cut him, or lose him!"
And there it was.
Without further hesitation, the assassin – no – the intern sliced through the man's skin, watching in awe as it split open not out of violence, but out of a procedure that could save. "Okay, give me the tube." JD grabbed it without looking, doing his best to push it through the opening and trying not to shake when it wouldn't go in. "I can't get it through," he muttered desperately.
"Well don't be gentle!" Dr. Cox pressed on. "Get it in there!"
JD pushed, hard, relieved to see it pass through the skin. "Okay, thank you please, Carla," he rushed out in a stream of words, heart still racing at what he had just accomplished. It took a moment for it to truly sink in as he watched the blood flow through the tube; watched the patient's breathing reach a level of normalcy as the people around him relaxed into a much welcomed calm.
Immediately, his eyes shot up to Dr. Cox, not even trying to hide how moved he felt by it all. "No way," he breathed out, a happy grin taking over his expression.
He was surprised when the older man returned it, his own expression alighting with a spark that made everything feel like it was going to be alright. "See? It's a piece of cake."
JD watched as he removed the gloves, his next words surprising him to no end. "He's your patient."
"You're leaving!?" he practically cried, trying to ignore the desperation in his voice.
Apparently, Dr. Cox was willing to ignore it as well, his demeanor still much lighter than the one he had witnessed upon first meeting him earlier that day. "That's your patient, Doctor."
JD shivered. Doctor. Dear God, did that feel good! How sweet to be referred to like that, and from Dr. Cox, out of all the people he had met so far!
Once he was sure that the older man had departed, JD threw his arms in the air, dancing a little where he stood.
"That's enough," Carla cut in, though a small smile seemed to be tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Sorry," JD responded, grin still very much intact. "It's a very big moment for me." And it was. The brunet knew now that, no matter what happened to him from that point on, he would never allow himself to forget what had just taken place.
For the first time ever, he had helped save somebody's life!
--
While it was true he was still on a high from his earlier accomplishment, John couldn't deny how utterly and truly exhausted he felt. Not a one of his under cover assignments had ever left him feeling so worn. But it was a nice kind of worn, he realized as he continued to the door. A weariness that left him feeling drained, but also feeling, well…good.
Lost in his thoughts, JD did not take notice of the drenched floor before him, falling back on the puddle with a very loud thud. Sprawled out on his back, the brunet let out a hurt moan, clearly in pain. "What kind of idiot forgets to put out a 'Caution' sign in the middle of a hospital?" JD groaned to himself.
Or at least, he thought it was to himself.
"So I'm an idiot, huh?"
The brunet's eyes popped open at once, not at all liking the tone of voice in which the question had been asked.
Hovering above him, a man stood glaring; a very tall man. Oh, God…what did he just do?
"I, um…I'm sorry. I just…I slipped. My mistake. I was just angry, but I'm sorry. You're not an idiot, I just –"
"You just what? You thought that, because you're a doctor and I'm a Janitor, then it would be perfectly fine to call me an idiot, is that it?"
"N-No. That's not what I meant. I just –"
"I'm watching you," the Janitor threatened quietly, obvious menace behind his words.
JD let out a breath of relief as the Janitor made his exit. Before he could get up, however, he was visited by yet another on-looker. At least this one he was happy to see.
"Hey, man!" Turk greeted lightly. "Uh…what're you doing?"
"…Napping?"
"Smooth."
JD was surprised, though very grateful, when the surgeon extended a hand. The brunet took it at once, pulling himself up and grinning sheepishly at the man before him. "Thanks for that."
"No problem. …Hey, um…I was wondering… I found an apartment not far from here, you know? I was gonna room with this guy named Todd, but he decided to buddy up with somebody else. I wasn't about to ask for a reason, because with the Todd, it could be anything up to, well, never mind… Anyway, I was wondering…you wanna room with me?"
JD tried not to gawk at him, but wow – a roommate! He'd never had a roommate before! And the guy seemed genuinely nice too. Maybe he'd even like Rowdy. And hey, what if he even – No! his inner monologue screamed. Are you kidding me? That is getting way too close! Besides, the Superior already picked out an apartment for you. All your stuff's there. Wouldn't it be better to just –
Nope.
"Sure," JD answered, too excited at the prospect of living with another to listen to his logical side. "Sounds awesome. Just let me grab some stuff from my, uh…from my stuff place…"
"Your 'Stuff place?'"
"Yeah. It's where I…it's where I keep my stuff…"
"Uh-huh." Turk shook his head, but handed him a key all the same, grin still splayed out on his expression. "Room number ten," he informed him casually. "I'm gonna order us some pizza, so I'll meet you there. Sound good?"
JD nodded, trying not to beam too hard as he did so. "Yeah, man. That sounds great."
Turk smiled. "Awesome."
And just like that, the surgeon – his roommate – was off and out of the door.
JD followed soon after, but not before waving an affectionate goodbye to both Carla and Elliot, though he wasn't particularly sure if they noticed him, as they seemed to be in some kind of argument… Either way, today had ended on a great note. And yeah, he knew he'd have to look more into Kelso sooner than later. And yeah, he knew he wasn't, well…wasn't a real doctor… But he wasn't going to think about that right now; not tonight. Tonight, he was going to go grab Rowdy and the rest of his things, and then? Well then, he was going to go to his new place, sit on the couch, and help the surgeon polish off what he hoped would be a large, pepperoni pizza.
A/N: Like I said earlier: The rest of this story will not follow the series so strictly, I promise. I just really wanted his first day in this plot line to be similar to his first day on the show, but from here on out, it's original. (Though I guess that's up for you guys to decide. lol) Anyway, despite the kind-of-odd rewrite, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Until next time!
