Rain beat against the hospital windows like a tired rhythm, soft and steady.
Eva Meadows sat at the corner desk of the emergency ward, chin resting on her palm, watching water streak down the glass. Her shift had stretched past nine hours, and every muscle in her back ached.
The fluorescent lights hummed. The smell of antiseptic clung to her scrubs as usual.
She could hear the faint tick of the clock above the nurses' station.
"Almost midnight" she thought while yawning. "Just an hour more and I can go home and sleeeep". That night was stressful as hell, for a moment, she wished no one had an emergency that required treatment for just the space of one hour. After her shift, who ever wants to die should die.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Audrey.
> AUDREY: You still alive, nurse girl?
EVA: Barely.
AUDREY: You'll be fine. Sleep, eat, breathe. Repeat. That's life.
Eva smiled faintly. Audrey always had a way of sounding light, even when things weren't. She has been her friend since highschool and like a sister to her. It's true relationship grows as time moves.
If anyone saw them alone, one would think they'll lesbians but they're just girls who always got each others back.
> EVA: You make it sound easy.
AUDREY: That's because I don't have a boss screaming "stat" every five minutes.
EVA: You just have drunk men screaming "another shot. One more round pls"
AUDREY: Exactly. Much better than patients.
Eva laughed quietly, shaking her head. "You're impossible," she murmured to herself.
She tucked her phone away just as thunder rolled outside. The rain poured harder, blurring the world beyond the glass.
That was when the doors slammed open.
A stretcher burst through, pushed by two paramedics. The man on it was unconscious, pale, and motionless. His hair was damp with sweat, his chest rising shallowly under an oxygen mask.
"Male, late twenties," one of the paramedics said quickly. "Collapsed on stage. Possible seizure or head trauma."
Eva was already moving. "Get him into Room 5," she ordered, her voice steady even though her pulse had jumped.
As they wheeled the stretcher past, she caught sight of the patient's face—and froze.
"Nathan Ward ?"
Even she, who didn't follow celebrity gossip, recognized him. The posters in cafés, the endless songs on the radio, the arrogant smile across billboards.
The crowd outside the hospital entrance confirmed it, paparazzi flashing cameras, fans screaming his name through the storm.
Eva sighed. "Great," she muttered. "even stars fall one day."
****
Inside Room 5, the machines beeped softly as she worked beside the doctor. They stabilized his vitals, started fluids, checked for concussion. Eva kept her movements precise, professional, like she always did.
Hours passed before he stirred.
His eyes fluttered open, hazy grey under the harsh white light.
He blinked, disoriented, then groaned. "Where… am I?"
"You're at St. Mary's Hospital," Eva replied, adjusting his IV. "You collapsed during a concert. You need rest."
He squinted at her, "You a fan?"
"Of who?" she asked flatly.
A faint grin curved his lips. "Of me."
Eva didn't even look up. "Not in the slightest."
He studied her face, waiting for the usual giggle, the blush, the spark of interest he was used to. There was nothing. Just calm professionalism and a pair of eyes that refused to be impressed.
"That's a first," he murmured. "Most people faint when they see me."
"I can arrange that," she said dryly. "But you'll have to clean up after yourself."
He laughed, a low sound that turned into a cough. She handed him water, expression unreadable.
"Try not to talk too much," she said. "You hit your head."
He sipped, still watching her. "You're not very nice, are you?"
"I'm not paid to be nice. I'm paid to keep you alive."
That caught him off guard. He grinned wider, the kind of grin that usually melted people.
"You've got an attitude, nurse."
Eva set down the chart. "And you've got an IV. Don't move it."
Their eyes met—his full of amusement, hers of quiet annoyance. The air between them felt like the moment before a match flares.
He leaned slightly forward. "What's your name?"
She hesitated, then answered, "call me nurse Eva."
"Eva," he repeated, rolling it on his tongue like a lyric. "Pretty name."
"Don't make it sound like one of your songs."
He chuckled again, softer this time. "You really don't like me, do you?"
"I don't even know you," she said, turning toward the monitor. "But I've seen enough people like you."
"People like me?"
"The kind who think charm is a personality."
His grin faltered for a second. "Ouch."
"Good night, Mr. Ward," she said, heading for the door.
He watched her go, half amused, half irritated.
Every other woman he'd met that year had tried to get closer; this one couldn't get away fast enough.
---
The next morning, Eva sat in the staff lounge, sipping cold coffee. She decided to observe double shift because one of her colleagues was absent and it's a plus income for her.
At least, that would reach her to get somethings.
The rain had stopped, leaving the sky pale and washed out. Audrey called, her voice bright through the speaker.
"Girl! I saw the news! You treated Nathan Ward? Like the Nathan Ward? Omgggggg"
Eva rolled her eyes. "You make it sound like I performed surgery on royalty."
"Well, he's kind of music royalty girll," Audrey teased. "What's he like? Tell me, is he asleep cute as we see in TV? Yunno...., the charms and all that"
"He's… tolerable."
"That's nurse code for gorgeous."
Eva laughed. "More like exhausting. He's too full of himself."
"Come on, Eva," Audrey said. "Not everyone gets to meet a rock star. Maybe it's a sign."
"A sign of what?"
"That you need something exciting in your life."
"I already have enough excitement—broken bones, crying patients, and caffeine."
"Still," Audrey said softly, "you work too much. You should let yourself feel something once in a while. You deserve it."
Eva smiled, though her eyes stayed on the rain-streaked window. "Maybe.. someday."
"Promise me you'll try," Audrey said. "Try to live, not just work."
"Sure," Eva replied.
***
Later that day, Eva returned to Nathan's room with his medication.
He was sitting up, scrolling through his phone, a blanket thrown lazily over his lap. He looked annoyingly perfect for someone who had collapsed less than twelve hours ago.
"Back already, Nurse Eva?" he said, glancing up.
"Your vitals need monitoring," she said, setting the tray down.
He smirked. "I think I'd recover faster if you smiled at me."
"Then you're going to be here for a long time," she replied.
He laughed quietly. "You're a tough one."
"Take your medicine," she said.
He obeyed, still watching her with that unreadable expression. "You know," he said slowly, "I'm used to people treating me like I'm… special which ofcourse I am"
"You're a patient," she answered. "Nothing more, nothing less."
Something in her tone—gentle but firm—made his chest tighten unexpectedly. He didn't know why, but it felt like she'd just stripped away the part of him the world worshipped. He stared blankly at the glass of water he was holding.
When she left, he stared at the door long after it closed.
He should've been annoyed or Maybe he was But under the irritation was curiosity—a sharp, unwelcome pull.
Nathan lay back against the pillow, running a hand through his hair.
"She really doesn't care," he muttered.
A small smile tugged at his mouth.
" Why should I care either. Son of a bitch, asswhole" he said rolling his eyes . " Where the fuck is pierce, aaggghhhh I need sex right now. Some bitch ass would do, maybe her's " be added with a faint smile at the last sentence he made.
At some point he couldn't relate his actions as his personality or his mental condition.
For the first time in years, he didn't know whether to hate her… or to want to see her again just to find out why she didn't. But at that point, all he wanted was to leave the hospital.