This can't be happening. Cleo felt an undeniable urge to throw her phone as far away from her as possible. Too late she realized she'd been frozen with her mouth hanging open, the table around her had quieted as her coworkers took in the change in her demeanor. "What just happened?", asked Allie, flicking a balled-up straw wrapper in Cleo's direction. "Um, well… You know how you guys make fun of me for liking K-Pop?", Cleo's eyes were still glued to her phone screen, "When I bought the last album for the group I like I was automatically entered for a chance to win a videocall with each of the members. And... I… think I won?".
Cleo glanced up at the faces around her. "I didn't think I'd win! It's not even why I bought it, I just wanted the album... people spend thousands of dollars to get multiple entries it doesn't make sense that I'd win! I only bought one, it's impossible". She knew her voice was rising but she couldn't help it. None of her coworkers listened to K-Pop and they usually only humored her when she talked about it, but right now they were all staring at her as if they were seriously concerned for her mental health.
"That's… interesting?" Katie finally spoke, "Shouldn't you be excited?"
"Wait how are you going to understand them?" Hailey interjected, "You're just going to be staring at each other!" She laughed at her own joke. Cleo ignored her, "They speak English. Two are from Australia. Besides I've been trying to learn Korean for the last two years, you know this" she finished with a side eye towards her friend.
"What're you going to say?" Allie asked at the same time Katie said, "When is it?".
"I have no idea. And hold on let me check with the time difference… Looks like it's tomorrow at 3:45am. Fuck, I work."
"Oh, well you know Maria will let you take your lunch whenever. As long as no one's dying I'm sure you'll be fine", said Katie. As if to emphasize her point the Vocera hanging off her scrub top went off, informing her of an incoming call. Katie pointed to it with a laugh before leaning back to answer. The girls went back to their lunches while Cleo fiddled with the stethoscope twisted up in her scrub pocket.
What was she going to say? This was an opportunity most fans would die for but honestly, she was dying to get out of it. She'd seen the cringy posts of fan calls making their way around Tik Tok and had no interest in being one of them. Really the only thing she could think of was to thank them for their music. It had been the soundtrack for most of nursing school and now it helped prepare her for busy days in the emergency department while comforting her after hard nights. Stray Kids had also provided her with a much-needed escape from her abusive ex. She often credits them in her mind as the reason she's still alive. The final straw in her relationship wasn't when she showed up to work with her third black eye, but when Jason tried to prevent her from listening to their music. It was embarrassing to admit now that she wasn't willing to leave when it was her physical safety on the line. The hatred he held towards the only thing that could brighten her day is what shocked her into leaving. After months of therapy she now understood his actions as jealousy. He was actually jealous that a group of guys she would likely never meet took up space in her life.
Katie snapped her fingers in front of Cleo's face, interrupting her spiral, "There's an incoming trauma- ETA 10 minutes. We better go get ready for them."
The rest of her shift passed without incident. They managed to stabilize the trauma and get them up to the ICU in record time. She spent the rest of her shift caring for the various chest pains, colds/flus, and minor injuries that flowed in through the ED doors. No one cursed her out and her scrubs weren't covered in any bodily fluids which was always a win in Cleo's book. The never-ending stream of patients also meant she couldn't dwell for too long on the video call and what she would say. It was 9am by the time she got home, showered, and crawled under her covers. Despite the fact that whenever she thought about Stray Kids her heart would skip a beat she still managed to succumb to sleep the second her head hit the pillow.
Cleo was grateful that the company hosting the video call required her to download a specific app. Giving out her phone number is not something she did on a whim. She had her phone set to screen any unknown numbers for a reason. It's only in the last few weeks that she'd stopped jumping every time her phone rang. She'd tried everything to fix her Pavlovian response to the sound. Changing her ring tone, having her mom call her repeatedly in hopes she would become fatigued in her stress response, and many other poorly formed ideas but despite now remaining outwardly calm her heart still sped up at the sound. Even when she knew who was calling her and why she couldn't help but fear what would happen when she answered. Would she hear his voice? Which version of him would she hear- the side of him that begged for her return claiming he couldn't live without her or the side that promised retribution in the form of violence for how she treated him? Now she screened her calls obsessively. If she did not recognize the number, it was immediately sent for voicemail. Her voicemails were also screened by a friend before she listened to them, just as another layer of protection between her and him.
At this point he'd been quiet for about a month. The calls from unknown numbers had all but stopped and she hadn't received a nasty text in at least two weeks. In fact, the only reason she knew he was still alive and fixated on her was because of the social media posts. He posted about her nearly every day and while obviously she had him blocked from her main profiles she did maintain a dummy profile to keep an eye on his activity and screenshot any threats he made toward her to forward to the detective. At the end of each month she sent off all contact she received from him, as well as the social media threats, just in case the detective thought it was finally enough for legal action. After nearly 9 months of unending fear and anxiety, changing her phone number 4 times, moving to a new apartment, and finding a new job- things seemed to be quieting down.
She thought she could live with this quieter version of Jason. He no longer had her address or access to life updates, so his posts were just generally obsessive and included photos that were over a year old. He'd been banned briefly for posting photoshopped naked images of her and had since refrained from repeating such vulgar actions. Unfortunately, it seems Facebook did not have the same animosity towards violence and threats because despite constant reporting they allowed his page to be reinstated. Regardless, Cleo was thankful that the use of an app would prevent her regular anxieties surrounding phone calls from compounding the already overwhelming anxiety of being expected to speak with people that had played such a pivotal role in her life.
The "morning" passed in a haze. Cleo went for her daily run and sucked down her green smoothie before showering and getting changed into blue scrubs. She tried to remain present in her own mind, but her thoughts were constantly revolving around the phone call that was taking place that evening. Slowly she built what she planned to say to each member. It all followed the same basic formula, she would thank them for taking the time to spend with their fans, tell them how their music had saved her more than once, and then ask a simple question. It was the question part that held her up. She didn't want to ask something they had probably answered a million times that day alone, but she also didn't want to pry into their lives and make them uncomfortable. By the time she pulled into the parking lot of the hospital snow was falling from the already dim sky and she still had no clue what to ask.
Cleo was cutting it close and she knew it. She had maybe 2 minutes to spare by the time she's finished giving meds and taking vitals for her latest patient, but Maria had given her the go ahead to head into the break room for 15 minutes. She could feel each second as if they were physically hitting her as she ran for a chair, grabbing her water bottle to use as a prop for her phone. The app was already open and ready to go, showing a count down until it was her assigned turn. With 10 seconds to spare she connected her headphones to Bluetooth and settled back in her chair, trying in vain to control her breathing.
There was nothing she could do about her appearance. She'd brought makeup and a brush with her to work that day on the off-chance things were quiet enough she could touch up before the call. Of course, this was one of the first truly snowy days of the year leading to a significant increase in falls, minor car accidents, and homeless people seeking a bed and a warm place to sleep.
This meant that despite it being just before 4am on a Wednesday, Cleo had spent her entire shift running from room to room, barely keeping up with the demand of the evening. Stray strands of hair had escaped her braid and were instead tangled around her face. Cleo was also fairly certain any remnants of mascara she had swiped on before work had long disintegrated. The one thing that kept her from spiraling in self-pity for her current state was the knowledge that she was going to be one of who knew how many calls they were going to participate in, they'd never remember her- nor did she expect them to even if she had been more put together. Stray Kids was a group of eight men that regularly sold out stadiums and rubbed elbows with the elite worldwide. They were often seen at fashion shows like Paris Fashion Week and the latest LV exhibition. Cleo on the other hand strictly wore scrubs or leggings.
She watched the seconds tick down. Training her eyes on the center of the screen, carefully avoiding looking at the square in the corner where her image appeared. 9… breathe in… 8… 7… 6… 5… breathe out… 4… 3… 2… 1.
The screen blinked to life.
