BENEATH THE SURFACE : When fire meets ice

Jason's coworkers had just finished their very off-key version of the birthday song, their voices blending in a way that was more charming than musical. All eyes turned to the birthday cake. "Happy Birthday Jason" was clumsily scribbled in pale purple icing, the words slightly smudged and uneven. "That one's on me," Tracy said with a sheepish grin, her cheeks flushed pink. "My three year old thought the cake was a drum. But don’t worry there was a double layer of plastic wrap. No cake-to-hand contact." Jason laughed. "Honestly? That feels like the perfect metaphor for my life right now." "Jason! Blow out the candles, They're melting into wax," Bella called, her voice bright with energy. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes to think of a wish. On his first try, he failed to blow them all out. The second puff did the trick, putting off the remaining flickers. With that, his coworkers moved into action with the speed and behavior of a trauma response team. Being nurses, they tre

The day had started on a sour note for Jason Miller, but he didn’t realize just how sour it would get until he accidentally spilled cake all over Dr. Vincent Maloney. The incident replayed in his mind like a bad dream, leaving a trail of embarrassment that lingered long after the frosting had been cleaned off. Vincent’s piercing, cold glare had cut through Jason like a blade, and his clipped reprimand still echoed in his ears. Jason had gone back to the ER afterward, throwing himself into the rush of patients and endless paperworks in a futile attempt to forget about it. But no amount of adrenaline or distraction could erase the image of Vincent’s rigid frame, his jaw set in irritation, or the unmistakable hatred in his voice. To Vincent Maloney, Jason felt like nothing more than a nuisance, someone barely worth acknowledging except, of course, when he was scolding him. Jason hated how much that stung, though he would never admit it to anyone but himself. By the end of the shift,

The morning after Jason’s shift with Vincent, the almost smile he’d seen lingered in his mind like an unresolved melody. It had been faint, nearly unnoticeable, but it was there, a crack in the icy facade Vincent wore like armor. Jason tried to brush it off as nothing, convincing himself that the Vincent he’d seen in that moment wasn’t any different from the aloof doctor he worked with every day. Yet, no matter how much he reasoned, the image refused to fade. It was as if he’d seen something beneath the surface, and as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to see it again. When he walked into the ER for his next shift, the usual buzz of activity filled the air. Nurses shuffled in and out of patient rooms, their conversations drowned out by the beeping of monitors and the occasional overhead page. Jason scanned the room instinctively, searching for a tall, brooding figure. But Vincent was nowhere in sight. A strange pang of disappointment followed, unwelcome and unsettled. He quickl

Saturday approached quickly and the hospital holiday party was in full swing, its energy vibrating through the walls of the main hall. Jason sipped his punch, laughing at one of Bella’s jokes, though his attention was clearly somewhere else. The crowd was lively, a mixture of doctors, nurses, and admin staff unwinding after an exhausting year. Yet, amidst the cheerful chaos, Jason’s gaze constantly shifted to the the cold figure standing by the corner of the room. Dr. Vincent Maloney was the epitome of isolation, his arms crossed and his expression stony. He was there, but not really part of the celebration. Jason wondered, not for the first time, what made Vincent like this. “You’re staring again,” Bella teased, nudging him. Jason snapped his head toward her, caught in the act. “I’m not staring. I was just… observing. “Sure, ‘observing. Bella smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You should just go talk to him.” Jason scoffed. “And say what? ‘Hey, Vincent, why don’t you st

The morning air in the hospital felt heavy, as though the tension growing between the staff had seeped into the very walls. Jason walked through the corridors with a clouded expression, a sharp contrast to his usual warmth. He wasn’t his approachable self today, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Bella, the ever observant friend, had been watching him since the shift began. Something was wrong, but every time she tried to approach him, he brushed her off with short replies or tight lipped smiles. She wasn’t used to seeing Jason like this, and it bothered her more than she cared to admit. Around mid morning, Bella decided enough was enough. Armed with a cup of coffee, she approached Jason, who was busy reviewing a patient’s chart at the nurses’ station. “Jason,” she said softly, placing the coffee next to him. “You’ve been off all morning. What’s going on?” Jason barely glanced at her, his eyes fixed on the chart. “Nothing. I’m fine,” he said, his tone clipped. Bella frowned, her co