[&]live&d i e;

[[&]Ryan Darcy;]

You know the kind of exhaustion that makes you so tired that you can barely keep your eyes open ? The kind that seeps into your bones and make you curse the moment you accepted that double shift at work. Well, okay, maybe that was just Ryan. That would explain however, why the man, with thick dark ebony hair and a stoic face was sitting on a bar stool, music blasting in his ears from distant speakers, clutching a steaming cup in his hands. Or hand. His other hand had a few fingers bandaged and splinted. Ah, yes. What can you expect to find at a club, partying teens filled with booze, music, DJ`s, and of course dancing. Oh yeah, and a bone tired doctor with a cup of coffee. Yup, you heard right. A cup of coffee. At a club. Black coffee to be exact. No sugar, sweeteners or cream for him. Straight up caffeine was what he needed. I guess I should start off by explaining why this exhausted doctor is currently hanging out at a club.

It all started at five am a day ago. Ryan had just arrived at work, and he was putting his coat and other varied items in his office, when he was paged. Another routine case, his presence required in the emergency room ASAP. That means, as soon as possible, if you haven’t already caught that. Normally, that would just be something normal, as normal for him, as getting the paper in the morning is for some people. So, he had done what he has always done best, he went to the emergency room and helped with some poor teenage girl who had been involved in a drunk driving accident. At five am in the morning. Hah. Yeah, Ryan was pretty much as bugged by that as everyone else. I mean, come on. Drunk driving. At five in the morning? What the hell was his small, bubble like world coming too? The hours had passed as he fixed internal bleeding, comforted the patient when she awoke, and did all the other doctor stuff that was required of him.

That had taken about three or four hours of his time. Then he had found himself pretty much without a job as the day approached eight o’clock am, and the hospital slowed down to almost a complete and total stop. Which was odd. Because, you would think it wouldn’t matter what time it was, that the hospital would always be buzzing with people needing to be diagnosed and patched up, and the like. But, it was pretty much quiet. That led him to his first break, which consisted of throwing coffee stirrers into the waste basket from across the room while he lounged in the break room, his feet on the desk. Ten o’clock and he had another emergency; a boy fell out of a tree trying to save his cat. The cat was two feet in the air. The boy, seven years old, was afraid of heights. It didn’t end too well. Fractured collar bone and a broken wrist. Once Ryan had been able to stop the kid’s crying, it went rather smoothly. He thought. At least, until he had been kicked in the shin.

Ouch.

Yeah. That had hurt. A lot actually, considering that it had been his bad leg. Once he had finished swearing, quite loudly, in his mind, he had calmed the kid down and got him to sit still for the x-ray. Then, he had been called off to examine one of the ladies in the waiting room, who, happened to be pregnant. And complaining of cramps. So after getting his hand nearly squeezed off, hey, he was a nice after all, and diagnosed her as, 'in labor.' He had her transferred to the maternal ward. Where she then proceeded to request he deliver the baby. Seriously, most woman were too quick to like him. Besides, her doctor who was original supposed to deliver the child had gone on vacation. The woman’s husband was somewhere in England on business, but he must be cheating on her. He had been pretty distant for the past few months, and hadn’t called her as often from England that he had the last time he was away. Not that he, er, asked. She just happened to tell him as he wheeled her to the delivery room.

Three hours later, a very curse filled room, from both doctor and mother, a little baby boy was born.

The woman, he found out, had been quite touchy-feely when in pain. He had a rumpled shirt and a slightly wary expression to vouch for it. He didn’t really appreciate being grabbed by the collar and snarled at by a lady he did not know.

Oh, yeah. Ryan fractured his middle and forefinger on his left hand as well. I’ll just let you guess how that happened. Anyway, it was about one o’clock in the afternoon then. He had gotten a splint on his poor fingers, and then took his next half hour break. This time he drank a coffee and made paper airplanes with napkins. Yup. The life of a doctor. The rest of the day went by routinely, a few more cases, a dog bite, allergic reaction, and a runny nose. He had been getting ready to go home at about midnight, when a nurse caught him and asked him if he’d be willing to pull another shift. Of course he would, because after all he was Ryan.

He started his second shift off by taking a long, hot shower. After that, he changed into some clean scrubs and grabbed another cup of coffee. The night and next day were incredibly busy. He worked from case to case, saving numerous lives. Or, at least, they thought so. Really all he had done was started a blood transfusion, gave CPR, twice, and shocked a patient with paddles when they happened to go into cardiac arrest. Add a tracheotomy and his day was pretty much complete, or, at least the major cases. That kept him busy until five o’clock pm, when he went to the clinic. A few runny noses, muscle pain, and other various sicknesses that could be cured with some Motrin and rest, and he had made it until eleven o’clock pm. Add the hour or two it took him to take another shower and change into a pair of black pants and a white dress shirt, casual at least for a collared dress shirt, and get into his car. He made it halfway back to his apartment flat before he almost fell asleep at the wheel, and pulled into the club parking lot.

Which was where he sitting now, sipping his black coffee at about twelve in the morning. Or, actually at night. He was too tired to care or know right about now. But, he’d rather face a night in the club, than a car accident on the road. It was just his luck that the closest place to stop had been a hip hop club, and generally Ryan avoided them as a rule. Even the pounding music and heat of so many people couldn't keep him awake. He blinked hard as he waited for the caffeine to work to the point where he wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel.

[[Harper Billings]]

She...needed a break. From the shithole of an apartment she shared with her brother, the stuffy studio where she had been shooting scenes for her next independent film, and the classes at UCLA, you could say this crowded club where you were constantly rubbing up against someone with every step you took, you could say that this was the first time this young women felt free in a long time. And this break brought her here, the Garden of Eden. She had been in Los Angeles for about two and a half years and felt like she had already known the ins and outs, the hot spots and the 'pot' spots. Sometimes she felt she knew more about this place than her older brother, Reed, who had been living here for five years. Five years...had it really been that long? Five years since he flew three thousand miles away from their hometown of New York City, to come here...to Los Angeles.

"I want to be someone." She remembered him telling her this. He may be able to fool himself, but he can't fool her. He was running away from his life. Wanted nothing to do with their parents. Their drunken father, and defenseless mother. It was messed up. But, little had her brother known that he was leaving her by herself, defend her her and her mom. How she had survived that, Harper could hardly remember. At least she did, escaped from the hell and moved in with her brother and started college. She was terrified that she left her mother, alone and scared with a husband that just went into rehab a year ago.

Well, that was then. This was now. She had gotten a call from her father this morning on top of it all, begging for forgiveness. But could she? After all those years? She wasn't known for ever holding a grudge for too long, but Reed? He was the 'Grudge Master' and she highly doubted that this would run over smoothly with him. She hadn't told him yet. And she really was dreading it, but she knew she would have to eventually. There were after all...family. Though Reed wasn't going to see it that way.

Harper staggered backwards suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. Some guy ran past her quickly, claiming to see a A-List celebrity with a certain someone. She rolled her eyes. God, people could be very pathetic it was nauseating. She regained her posture and held her chin higher than before, feeling her pony tail touching the back of her neck it tickled a bit. The distressed and emotional Harper strided toward the bar, her brown suede boots barely audible over the music, but she could just imagine them clicking. Very washed out and faded jeans were tucked inside the boots with a white tunic to finish it off.

She reached the bar sliding into an empty seat, next to a man that looked like he hadn't slept much in weeks. She pondered for a moment as she saw the bartender coming up to her. So, she was a year young than the legal limit. Twenty, twenty one, what was the difference? To play it on the safe side, she ordered some diet. She would have to drive home tonight, and she wasn't keen on the idea of waking up in a hospital bed. She noticed the man beside her was drinking coffee. That was new. She thanked the bartender who slipped her, her drink and sipped it for a few moments already wishing she was home, practicing lines for tomorrow, or even talking to her brother.

[[&]Ryan Darcy;]

He brought the coffee to his lips, his hand shaking slightly. There wasn’t actually a reason for his hand to be shaking, if only a little tiny bit, but it was. Maybe it was from the extreme tiredness that was now pouring over his shoulders. Or the fact that he could only use one hand to hold up the filled to the top coffee mug, and that tended to put strain on your muscles. Did I mention the hand shaking was the one with the coffee? Second degree burns all over your hand, or at least burns that feel as bad, it’s not the most pleasant thing to deal with. After taking a small sip, and cursing over and over again in a mantra that was pretty much familiar by now, at the rate his day was going, though, the cursing was in his mind, he hung his head with an almost defeated silent sigh. He was too tired to utter a single phrase. Much less make a noise. He was content to sit on this stool and not move until he fell asleep, or was escorted out by some very friendly demeanor police men. Like he hadn’t already experienced that before.

Actually he had, but the circumstances surrounding that time, yeah, they were a hell of a lot different than being hauled off for loitering around a bar the whole entire night. Now if he could only just...find the energy to get up. Or, move even. Moving was a start. He still couldn’t get that one woman’s face out of his mind as she snarled at him, obviously in pain, but still. He didn’t like being pulled, by the collar, well, actually the tie first, but she saw that she was choking him and mercifully allowed air flow to proceed down his throat, but grabbed his collar instead, which, was probably worse because it enabled her to drag him closer.

Close proximity never seemed to work out with him, and worked out even less with strangers. If you would have asked that woman, after she was fully off the pain medication and whatnot, her impression of Ryan, she would have gave you the example of his face when she pulled him close. He was scared, like anyone would be when being almost strangled by a complete and total stranger, but this fear went deeper, and it had been there for a long while. And the strange thing was, he had accepted it. Didn’t try to fight back and she could have swore she saw resignation in his eyes.

His jaw set with a stubborn strain, one that got him into trouble a few times, as he sipped his coffee, determined to get home in time to catch a few hours of sleep before he was called in again, but not able to summon up the strength to rise. Maybe it had been a mistake coming in here, you know, because of the fact that he just could not seem to get up, but then again, not getting up was better than being dead. It was almost positive that he would have fallen asleep at the wheel if he had continued to drive. Though he was a good doctor, it was hard to believe he would have been able to administer first aid to himself while unconscious. You never know though, he might just be that amazing.

He was Ryan Darcy after all.

A doctor. A life saving doctor. A great one at that. I mean, if you find yourself bleeding from an extremity or hacking up a lung, gross, I know, but you’d want to call Ryan. Not that he’d answer. I mean, sure, he’s on call at the hospital and he’d gladly attend to you there, but the thing is, he doesn’t have a cell phone. I know scary! Well, actually he does have a cell phone, but he’s so frustrated trying to get it to work half the time he’s mostly given up. That and, even though he thinks it’s stupid, he doesn’t exactly welcome the possible chance of getting brain cancer from the phone. Anyway, he never was a big fan of having conversations on the phone. Face to face was much easier, if not less nerve racking. And he could read their emotions, something he was remarkably good at when he tried. If not awkward for the one he’s intently studying.

The coffee was bitter, strong; it would have been too strong if he were not so tired. He rubbed a hand over his face, well; he rubbed his face with the hand that was not bandaged, the faint beginnings of stubble underneath his finger tips. He pressed his lips tightly together, movement in the corner of his eye making him turn his head briefly. Eyes wandered over the girl, she couldn't have been more than twenty, six years younger than he, and bit his lip, too tired to even greet her, not that he would have had he been awake enough. He wasn't exactly the most social person in the universe. He turned his eyes back to his coffee, fighting back the urge to yawn.

[[Harper Billings]]

Harper felt her leg vibrating which only meant one thing. Her cell phone. She wondered, as she fished for it in her pocket, who it was. Her mother? Her father? A friend? Eh, none of the above. Her brother. But it wasn't a call, but a text. She pressed the hard button to view it.

Did Caleb talk to you?
-R

Well, Reed wasn't one to post long texts with chat speak to the point where it seemed like an ancient language. Direct it was. Reed wasn't a fan of the cell phone and tried to not use it as much. But when he did, it was if you needed to call or text back. Knew there was more to the story than just five words. Such as 'Caleb'. Harper herself hadn't called her father 'dad' for many many years, but surely hasn't called him Caleb. She rolled her eyes imagining her brother sitting on the couch in their so-called living room with papers containing lyrics all over the coffee table. She didn't want to deal with this, no. Not now. Why ruin her night with a grudger as her brother ready to burst? She tapped the cellular device on the bar for a moment before slipping it back into her pocket.

What could she do that would be the least bit amusing, and cause her to forget everything possibly in her life at the moment. She smiled turning to the man with the coffee who looked like he was headed to a gas station and ended up at the club instead. She could already tell he was older than her. But the exact age is nearly impossible for her to do in a city like this where the new twenty is ten. "Coffee, I wouldn't expect one to have in a place like this," she said leaning in a bit, so he could at least hear her. She hated repeating herself and wasn't planning to, even if she was looking for something, or someone, to distract her.

[[&]Ryan Darcy;]

Ryan had never been a social man. Usually, you could find him walled up in his apartment flat, or dashing around the hospital trying to complete every single task that was asked of him, obtainable or not. You could say Ryan was a man who liked to please his superiors, and even sometimes his subordinates, as if Ryan even had subordinates. He was the low man on the totem pole; it seemed, no matter where he went. Living life on your own really made you stronger. Or in Ryan’s case, paranoid that you would fail every other second of the day. He was constantly worried that he hadn’t paid his latest bill, or forgotten to lock the door of his car. Little problems like that, while he thought nothing of giving CPR or mouth to mouth resuscitation. Anything doctor related he handled with ease. When someone said the name Ryan Darcy, mostly they thought of the quiet doctor with the rather intense stare. The thought process stopped there because that was really all they knew about him. His patients knew even less, except the first letter of his name and how to spell Darcy. He still managed to treat them with hospitality though and most patients warmed up to him immediately. Well, most female patients that is. The men tended to take a little, [okay, a lot] longer to get comfortable around him. Ryan went home and came in, and never really took excursions out anywhere. Social contact ended with his patients, started and ended really, and though many people would label him a loner, tell him he’s lonely, he would deny it until he had not another breath in his body to protest. Even if when it all came down to it, he really was lonely.

He was well enough content to mind his own business at the moment, besides the fact that he would probably make an idiot of himself if he tried to engage in any social contact whatsoever. Cell phones irritated him, even when he wasn't using them, so he took another sip of coffee, letting it burn its way down his throat harmlessly, harmless because he was too tired to actually feel anything at the moment. There were a lot of voices in the club, so many he had begun to tune them out into one mass of blurred voices and emotions. Then, someone was talking to him. How he knew this, let’s just say, after working in the crowded emergency rooms for so long and having to concentrate on one person while they spoke upon many, he had a rather skilled ear for who was talking to him. He turned his head to view her with dark murky brown eyes, and after a moment he comprehended her words and a tired, almost shy smile crossed his lips. “Neither would I, but after 48 hours awake, coffee is the only thing that keeps me awake. It was either stop here and get some or pass out behind the wheel.” Okay, so you could say that Ryan was a bit talkative when tired, he didn't know what he was saying, or really even care, but his expression was sincere, and his voice soft, but loud enough to be heard over the noise. It helped that he had leaned in a little.

[[Harper Billings]]

She nodded, cocking her head to the left a bit as he told her the reasons of being here with...coffee. She played with her straw in her glass, pushing the icecubes farther down, though they returned to the top as soon as she lifted the straw. "Forty-eight hours, huh?" she herself couldn't remember a time when she was up for forty-eight hours straight. She assumed he was doctor. She'd seen those shows where those doctors get like ten minutes of resting before their pager goes off, whisking them away to the next paitent. Even, if she just didn't have the tiredness expresion going for him, Harper would have assumed his profession was sophisticated in Los Angeles. The way he dressed, his posture, the tiredness in his eyes. She would have guess lawyer or doctor. But, she wasn't going to ask that...not just yet.

"I am Harper," she started and offered her hand but, not her last name, "have I seen you around before?" she asked squinting her eyes to him. So, it was a complete lie. The chances of seeing someone in Los Angeles twice was highly unlikely. Probably unheard of bumping into someone you have met a week, a month, a year ago. She took another long sip of her diet, almost finishing the rest. The bartender almost seem to appear out of no where, ready to replace it, but she waved it off. She also felt her leg vibrating once again and mentally waved that off too. She would deal with her life later, right now, though she just wanted to not worry about it. She looked back at him and stirred the cup with the red straw, listening to the ice cubes rattle, falling off one another.

[Eh...not my best.]

[[&]Ryan Darcy;]

The coffee was doing absolutely nothing for him. Actually, it was doing less than, and he suspected it was even making the fatigue he was experiencing intensify. Which, wasn't something he liked at all, considering all he wanted to do was go home, kick off his too tight, grossly polished shoes, and collapse into his small twin bed that proclaimed he was alone and probably always would be. Sad, but pretty much right on the mark. Ryan wished his life was like a television show. At least then he could relate to someone else. Even if they would happen to be people who were entirely made up and had no real experience other than what the writer wrote. If only someone would write a script for him to follow, somehow he imagined that would make his life one hell of a lot easier. Another sip of coffee and he was about to ask the bartender if he had given him decafe, by mistake, of course, but he was hit by something that could be described as energy, but mostly felt like he had been struck with lighting. Apparently it took a while to reach his tired system. He sat up a little straighter, and rolled his shoulders discreetly to get a kink out of the muscle.
Eyes a dark, mysterious color, hues of brown and green looking back at her as she spoke, gaze intense, like always. He nodded, not really sure what he could say other than, ‘Yeah, 48 hours.’ So, he kept silent. “Ryan” he hesitated, so used to giving out his last name as well, but followed her lead. He accepted her hand, his grip firm but gentle, and somehow conveyed just how much heartbreak he had experienced in the past twenty seven years. Which was kind of odd, but yeah, whatever. He took another sip of coffee. “Probably not. Unless you’ve been to the hospital recently.” True, Ryan seldom left his apartment flat to go anywhere.

[[Harper Billings]]

He took her hand, it still warm from the coffee mug. So, a doctor he was. "Sorry," she said unable to take her eyes off his, "could have sworn- must have been someone else," she concluded, though she highly doubted there was someone with quite the character as Ryan. "So, you come here often?" she asked, keeping the conversation going. For some reason, it seemed that Harper wasn't the only one here trying to get their mind off something. They possibly could be in the same boat.

Her leg vibrated once more and this time, she was fed up. She let out a sigh and pulled it out. She looked back at him. This was horrible, even she herself was annoyed when she was talking to someone and a cell phone broke it up. Texts, again from Reed. God, did he need a life. She sighed, she wasn't going to become that annoy person that would talk to someone she couldn't see that sontinue the conversation with someone right in front of her. Without looking at it she powered it down and stuffed it back in her pocket. She shook her head and said in a apologetic tone, "Sorry...family stuff," she said searching for the right term to use, "It's been a little strange," she said shrugging as if it was no big deal. She shiffted in her seat and crossed her legs, turning herself to face him, instead of craning her neck. She held the drink in her hand and rested it in her lap.

[[&]Ryan Darcy;]

He shrugged. “Los Angeles is a big city. Lots of people.”Ryan was usually never recognized, even if someone had seen him once or twice. The only people who remembered him were his patients, and over time even they forgot him. Which didn't actually bother him at all. Something about people knowing him and remembering him made him slightly nervous. After all, he was only Ryan Darcy, who on earth would remember someone like him? He was the sort of guy you noticed while he was around, but after that he just kind of faded to the background, until he was just that shadow person that everyone remembered but no one could place.

Ryan has the color eyes that just make you want to lean in closer and examine them. Really. Not that anyone has actually told him that, but it's true. The hue is a mixture of olive green and dark brown, and it's so expertly combined that you can’t tell where one starts and the other ends. As well as that beautiful color, the kind that artists would just love to slap down on a palette, there was also something that wasn't quite something you would want to look at for hours. He had the haunted kind of expression, the kind where no matter what he did, even if he smiled the biggest smile in the whole wide world, you could still see the suffering that collected behind the flimsy façade he thought protected him from the outside world. It stemmed from many things, influences and just the general hard hit of life. You may ask why other people had no expression in their eyes that could quite match Ry`s, but really, who had been abused as a child and lost the love, or so they thought, of their life when they were only about eighteen? Sure, other people had suffered as he had, but they weren’t as hung up about it as he tended to be. It was probably because he felt if he let go of his past, he’d loose everything. He had no one in the present to keep him grounded and away from thoughts that could literally kill him, he had no one to lean on, and even if he did, there was a very slim chance he would actually take that opportunity.

Brows rose as she took the cell phone from her pocket and turned it off. “I don’t mind.” He said truthfully, though there was a slight sadness in his eyes that was explicable but there. Ryan had no family to turn to, and so when everyone else complained about their screwed up families, he wanted to tell them how lucky they were to even have a family to create problems with, and that even if they were fighting, they should spend as much time talking with each other. Ryan had been abused as a child, but he still missed the woman who some would call his mother, but was actually the farthest thing from being just that.

[[Harper Billings]]

The cue of when anyone would bring their cell phone out, the other would turn away and either stare at their drink, or looked at it. Harper noticed, that Ryan did 'none of the above.' She noticed his eyes looking, different than she had seen them before, they looked almost sad, Harper tore herself away. Did he not have any family in the area, or anywhere? She suddenly felt bad that she was bitching about her's when Ryan seemed to be sad about just the thought of family. Was it her, or did she just get a wave of loneliness from him? Now she looked down in her drink, not knowing what to say.

She bit her bottom lip, but looked back, regaining her posture and put a smile on. She ordered another drink, handing over the empty glass across the bar. The new drink came and she took a sip before looking back at Ryan. "You from around here?" she asked, hoping it was a safe enough question to ask. She watched as the party-goers filed around them. Laughing, drinking, dancing. Since she started to talk to Ryan, she hadn't even noticed everyone else in the club. Now it seemed louder than she entered, and seemed to be a lot more people coming in than leaving. Must have been neary one or close to it. The crowd brought more people in later in the night, probably because they cruised the rest of the scene before coming here.

[[&]Ryan Darcy;]

Ryan had long since gotten used to not having any family. Christmas came by and he had no problem dealing, Thanksgiving, Easter, all that. He spent his holidays alone, working or reading over case files that were no more confusing than a common cold. Things he poured more of his mental capability into because he had nothing else to do. The only time it hurt was when he actually saw someone else with a family. He could handle the general idea of family time, but it was like, very loosely, like a kid who saw another getting candy, and hadn't done anything wrong to prohibit their reward as well. General idea, but just not quite the sentimental value it really was trying for. He turned his gaze, realizing too late that he had been staring.

He looked back just as quick, taking another sip from the now lukewarm coffee, the taste not bad enough to warrant a refill just yet. Ryan could easily be considered an intimidating man, just not in the big burly sense you usually think of. The intensity he has is something to throw you off, but he actually has no clue he even has the power to make people squirm under the direct gaze of his murky optics. “No, not really. I grew up in New York and just moved here.” The question brought no painful memories to him, even if his childhood in New York had been one he would have rather not experienced. “What about you, Los Angeles your hometown, or have you just moved here.”

[[Harper Billings]]

Harper widened her eyes. "You are from New York too? Me too!" she smiled. What were the chances that she would meet someone who from her homestate? "I moved here almost three years ago. My brother, he's been here for five years now," she told him, taking another drink from her pop. "So, you came here... to be a doctor?" she asked. She knew her brother came to be a musician, though it hadn't gone very well so far. Harper knew he was stressed, but her brother seemed he was going over the edge with his life right now. With their father trying to contact them, this probably wasn't going to help much.

Just thinking of her brother up and living New York, she wondered if Ryan had done the same thing. But, she knew it was none of her business and place to ask because they, known each other for, what, fifteen minutes? She though, had remorse for leaving her mother all alone in New York. She hadn't seen her since she left for Los Angeles. Of course she talked to her mother every week. Even when her mother asked her and her brother to come back for holidays, Reed always refused to go. Harper, she just didn't want to go my herself. Now, their father was out of rehab and from her mother, 'has changed'.
Fat chance.
Her mother always told her stories that everything was better the first time he got out of rehab, but then it went back to hell. She felt like she needed to give him another chance, but could she? She knew Reed wouldn't. She just didn't want the first eighteen years of her life repeating itself.

[[&]Ryan Darcy;]

New York was the city that never slept, and Ryan, personally, knew this well. He hardly ever slept as a child growing up, well he had, but only after he was sure his mother had passed out, and he’d be awoken at five am by sirens, or on the rare occasion, by his mother’s groans as she woke up with a hangover. New York was a great city, Ryan knew, because he had once traveled to the good parts, the part where the buildings took his breath away and the diversity of the people kept him busy for hours. But where he lived with his mother in the small apartment, well, let’s just say it wasn't the nicest of areas for a small boy, anybody really, to grow up in. Ryan knew this, and yet he had been so naïve as a child, thinking that everyone experienced what he had, even if he wasn't fully capable of comprehending just what he was going through at so young an age.

His own expression took on a slightly surprised tone, as Ryan seldom met anyone else who had lived in New York. That was probably because he really never talked to anyone long enough, besides his patients, to get into where they had come from or where they used to live. Plus, Los Angeles was a long way from New York, all the way across the continent. Had he come here to be a doctor? Ryan took a sip of coffee as he tried to find an answer in his tired mind. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, after my residency at the hospital in New York ended, I needed to find somewhere else to work. I ended up getting a job here.”

[[Harper Billings]]

[Ug, sorry this is very delayed. My computer had decided to crash and it is finally fixed]


Harper hadn't been a fan of New York all her life. From the busy-ness to the sophistication of everyone made Harper feel like she needed to loosen up as well. Brought up to an 'almost-perfect' family, (at least in the beginning.) Even when playing in dirt, kids would be dressed up in the finest of all clothing in the fashion industry, getting mud on the logos of some of New York's most expensive clothing. But of course, there was never just one 'rich city'. There had always been the less income families, that honestly, Harper wished she sometimes would have grown up in one of those families. Some of her friends did, and it, well, seemed like their parents cared, though that had not been in all cases. But, her father refused to get help. But, evidently, he was out. After both his kids left, she guess he had no choice.

She listened intently as Ryan told her about he had finished his residency at a hospital in New York. "I moved to Los Angeles as soon as I finished high school," she explained, "Only a few years ago. I couldn't stand living in New York than the years I was in it. You feel the same?" she asked. She remembered that she hated her homelife so much, she had been crashing at friends' houses just to get away from the abuse and the hardships of her parents. But there were days when she would come home after being out for a couple days and being demanded where she was. Which resulted in language and running to rooms to escape her father's wrath of being drunk, and recovering from a hangover the night before. It was a scary deal, but it was the story of her life.