#* . . . xxvii. queue ➳ ❝ just called to say this is the LAST you’ll be hearing from me. ‘cause now i’ve moved on. ❞

[wildbrokenmosaics]

Where: Code Latte

With: Anyone (0/5) @scrubshqstarters

When: June 2025

Alexandrea would’ve been sitting in her regular corner of the café, which she is a frequent patron of. An avid space that is one of her favourite locations to visit in town — having found the atmosphere and environment conducive to get her work done in. Ever since she transferred to Kingsley Memorial Hospital, the young surgeon has managed to make Queens’ best kept secret into her most preferred safe haven for when she needed the calming refuge of the haunt in place of her old one, Lisa's Spoon, back on the Upper East Side. Both fulfilled the main criteria of being away from the ever bustling rumor gossip mill of her fellow coworkers, which made any workspace at the hospital impossible to find any peaceful quiet amidst all of the chaos needed in order for her to concentrate and achieve the desired productivity she required to conquer all of the patients on her caseload charting paperwork that she had to catch up on filling up in a timely manner with an efficiency for accomplishing it all flawlessly.

Plus, it definitely didn’t hurt as an added benefit that the café never smelled like the atmosphere is drowning in the suffocating scent of antiseptic. Even if she is a surgeon and the smell of an operating room usually brought her much comforting joy, any medical professional would need a much welcomed reprieve from the overwhelmingly strong sterile air breathed in through the nose every once in a while with inevitable eventuality. Though, the young brunette would never be caught dead giving that brutally honest admission verbally as a confession being mentioned to her workplace insubordinates.

The surgeon has been drowning knee-deep in the recording of crucially important fine-print details of a medical case from one of her patients. Working to be a surgeon didn’t just mean that you’d cut a sick patient open just to fix what’s damaged inside of them and that your job would be completed since they’d be assumed to be healed thereafter. What it actually really meant is that she could not afford anything breaking her focus and causing her to screw up her fine-tooth combing detailing in the patient’s history because it could mean any discrepant inaccuracies being the difference between life and death for the said patient and whether you’d have taken a life that you’re responsible for in accountability.

Finally managing to look up from her laptop after having been hunched over it to the extent that a knot formed in her neck from the sheer tension when she completed filling in the mass majority of the boringly, snooze worthy administrative work that she had to get done, she straightened her posture and took a large gulp of her now lukewarm cup of liquid gold in the form of a double-shot espresso latte.

Seeing someone new enter from her optimally vantage viewpoint of the calming scenic sights at the desk she is using in the café, the young woman greeted with a politely, curt friendly smile of prideful satisfaction in a highly clear, eloquent quip from a slightly mild amusement.  ❝ You know, as a trained medical professional, we’re supposed to be warned about the effects of the overconsumption of the addictive drug called caffeine. Notwithstanding, the truly sad, overcomplicated and ironic truth is that we, as surgeons, simply cannot do our jobs to save others’ lives without having it for sustenance to survive and heal others without first destroying our own and putting our healths at risk in order to properly function at our jobs. ❞

[wildbrokenmosaics]

❝ Its okay, don't worry about it, Javi. Are you okay, though? ❞ Alexandrea's body had initially froze in startled flight or fight mode as a hand went to grasp his forearm for stability's support, eventually calming down and relaxing a tad once she registered that who she'd accidentally bumped into on the way into the café was not a threat, but rather, her fellow colleague who seemingly produced his signature stickers out of thin air.

Why did you grab his arm like a freaking weirdo, Montgomery? In a matter of mere seconds, though, her hand released and hastily dropped out to her side from embarrassed mortification that she'd gripped his arm as if it were her lifeline instead of just letting herself fall onto the sidewalk pavement when they collided and she temporarily lost her balance. Her eyes were full of sincere concern as she reassured him firmly and then temporarily paused to consider what he'd just said before adding on an amused quip with a gentle shake of her head in intrigue. ❝ Well, I'd offer to buy you a coffee instead, but only if you first explain to me what you did to deserve getting hit by Dizzy with something much more substantial than the menu? ❞

open starter ! @scrubshqstarters location: code latte, queens.

arms up in protection of his head and the cinnamon role he'd purchased tucked safely away in a scrub pocket, javi stumbled hastily out of the café and into the street. just managing to soften the blow of his brushing past an unsuspecting passerby on the way, he immediately flashed his best smile. "ah, sorry!" a momentary pause, the smile still firmly in place. “i would offer to buy you a coffee to apologise but i'm scared if i go back in there it won't be the menu i'm hit with... but something much more substantial."

[wildbrokenmosaics]

❝ And what kind of day would that be, Jett? ❞ Alexandrea quipped unamused as she had to make a conscious effort to not roll her eyes at how he was leaned up against the railing like it belonged to him. Though, the entitlement of his actions spoke volumes and weren't that surprising considering what she'd learned about him from back when they both worked at the same hospital a few years ago now.

The brunette woman had been walking back from grabbing a coffee at her regular pace, which wasn't that fast, but it wasn't as slow or relaxed as others' were. So, it might seem like she was stressed, or in his own words, storming the pier like she's got something to prove, but it wasn't an intentional message she was trying to convey with her body language. Andrea shook her head in denial at the offered cigarette, but upon noticing his eyes had dropped down to her basic running sports shoes before meeting her eyes again, her skillfully concealed irritation grew proportional to the teasing curve of his lips.

❝ No thanks. I think we both know that I wasn't storming the pier and I don't feel the need to prove anything, especially not to you of all people. And just because you're off Lexington's property grounds, it doesn't mean you're no longer an extension the hospital, especially considering you're wearing their surgical attending scrubs underneath that hoodie. You're still representing the place, and while I'm sure that I do not have to warn a cardiothoracic surgeon about the detrimental impact smoking has on your heath, what sort of message is your patients going to receive when they see their doctor engaging in such vices? What kind of example are you setting for those patients whose lives depend on quitting? How do you expect them to have any confidence in a doctor treating them when he can't even practice what he preaches? ❞

──── 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫: @wildbrokenmosaics. 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝.

he was already there when she walked up; leaned against the railing like he belonged to it, hoodie over scrubs, smoke tucked lazy between his fingers but never lit. he didn’t say much at first, just glanced her way with the kind of look that could be mistaken for disinterest if it didn’t linger a second too long. then, a quiet offer - the cigarette, held out between two fingers. “you look like you’ve had the same kind of day.” he murmured, voice low and dry. “take it or don’t. no judgment.” a beat passed, his gaze flicked to her shoes, then up to her face. “you always storm the pier like you’ve got something to prove, or is today special?” lips curved; subtle, teasing, barely there. the kind of smile that didn’t need to be loud to get its point across.

[wildbrokenmosaics]

Alexandrea would have been finalising the last few keystrokes of her charting data entry and saved the information within the system before she gently shut the lid of the laptop with a soft smile on her lips and a relieved exhale as she had looked up to address the blonde woman who had just stepped into the establishment. Nia's fidgety nervous body language didn't go unnoticed by the brunette and it wasn't hard to guess why, given how they are now employees of competing hospitals and this café was considered to be a part of Kingsley territory.

❝ I think you've got our survival priorities as surgeons figured out, Nia. ❞ She felt bad that the blonde resident got treated like a pariah just because she worked at Lexington when she was almost certain Dizzie had opened this space with the intention of creating a safe haven that was welcoming for all patrons alike. Plus, Andrea empathised with the struggle of constantly having to prove that she wasn't a traitor or spy sent from Lexington, just because she had worked there during her own surgical residency training years. Though, despite having worked alongside Nia in Lexington's ER personally once upon a time, the fact that the blonde still managed to look like a decently put together, functioning human being at the end of a long night's shift exasperated the young attending beyond belief. ❝ How are you doing, otherwise, though? You're a senior resident now, right? ❞

she   couldn't   shake   the   feeling   like   an   intruder   whenever   her   foot   stepped   in   any   of   the   kingsley   locations,   despite   spending   her   entire   childhood   growing   up   in   that   area   ⸺   and   despite   knowing   that   the   people   who   do   recognize   her   either   because   of   her   parents   or   because   they   had   any   parts   in   raising   her   whenever   her   moms   would   bring   her   in,   the   medical   world   is   a   constant   shift   and   there's   only   as   much   time   as   she   can   enjoy   around   the   faces   that   she   recognizes   and   that   are   not   giving   her   glares   as   soon   as   she   steps   in.   code   latte   is   usually   a   quick   stop,   to   pick   up   an   order   for   her   dad   after   just   finishing   her   night   shift   at   her   own   hospital   and   she   learned   to   keep   her   badge   stuffed   in   her   purse,   trying   to   hide   the   fact   that   she's   lexington   for   as   long   as   she   can   ⸺   at   least   until   someone   shamelessly   points   her   out   with   their   fingers.   nia   could   recognize   the   familiar   coffee   smell   in   her   sleep,   mixed   in   with   cinnamon   rolls   and   the   hospital   stickers   that   are   just   layering   on   top   of   each   other   on   the   walls,   probably   covering   the   ones   that   already   faded   out.   her   hair   are   neatly   brushed   out   and   the   waves   stayed   in   tact,   lips   coated   with   a   freshly   reapplied   cherry   lip   gloss   and   she   does   not   look   like   someone   who   just   came   back   from   a   14   hour   hospital   shift.   a   light,   warm   smile   spreads   across   her   face   and   just   as   she   notices   that   dizzie   is   nowhere   near   finishing   her   order,   she   gives   herself   a   green   light   because   a   casual   conversation   never   hurt   anyone,   right   ?   “   okay,   yes   …   technically,   caffeine   is   a   stimulant   that   increases   heart   rate   and   can   cause   mild   dependency,   yadda   yadda,   but   !   come   on,   you   and   i   both   know   it’s   basically   the   iv   fluid   of   surgical   departments   everywhere.   and   honestly,   i’d   rather   risk   a   little   heart   palpitations   than   try   and   fill   out   fifteen   pages   of   pre-op   documentation   without   it.   ”

[wildbrokenmosaics]

❝ I think it'd definitely have to go to the nurses for this round. You guys have to deal with people so much more than we do. ❞ Alexandrea shot back the retort without so much as missing a beat in a manner-of-factly way, considering it was a true fact that the nurses were the true reason why most hospitals were left standing at the end of the day. Her charting progress saved and left idle pulled up on her laptop screen as she chatted with one of her favourite coworkers.

There hasn't been a study done on whether or not caffeine still hadn't lost its affect on the brunette surgeon, but its theorised that her consumption of it now only delivers a placebo effect rather than doing anything else. And well, she would much rather have multiple servings of coffee a day over a processed energy drink if given a choice in the matter. Andrea softly chuckled at her confession before making one herself. ❝ Nor do I want to know what percentage of my paycheques are spent on coffee, either. So, I think we can both agree to live blissfully ignorant on that front. Are you here picking up something for the team then? ❞

truth be told, aurora had never been huge on coffee. she enjoyed a warm cup of joe around good company or when she was in a pinch, but it wasn't her top choice of caffeine when she needed it. if she had her choice, she'd make her way to a corner store or to one of the vending machines for an ice cold redbull. preferably, a sugar free watermelon redbull. it had become one of her favorites while she was in college and she simply never looked back. during nights where she had to pull practical allnights to cram for exams, coffee just didn't cut it, the energy drinks did the job better.

so, as she made her way into code latte to pick up her mobile order for the rest of her trauma nurse pals, she noticed a familar face working hard at a table. "hmmm, i always wondered who consumed more caffeine during a work week, us nurses or surgeons," she mused, glancing over towards the woman. "i don't want to know how much of my paychecks i have spent on my energy drinks, truthfully."

[wildbrokenmosaics]

❝ I think its just written as an unspoken part of our hippocratic oath. Kinda like if there was invisible ink for things we don't necessarily have to verbalise for it to still be true. ❞ Alexandrea nodded with a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes. She would've shut her laptop closed to slip into its protective sleeve just in time to witness the fussing over the establishment's owner had greeted the redhead with. ❝ Pretty sure we didn't need to lie to our residents about that, because they didn't care about the answers we gave back then. ❞

Has the residents' culture at Lexington changed that much since I left? The brunette surgeon could tell that she worked there, possibly as an intern, based on the colour of her scrub top which gave it away. Still, she shrugged with a knowing nod in agreement. ❝ Very true. And I like to think of it as philosphical rather than dramatic, but no, I'm usually not. ❞ A brief pause as she brought her own cup to her lips for another sip before it gets settled on the table between them, gently shaking her head in self-consciousness before offering a hand out for the fiery intern to take as she finally made an introduction. ❝ I'm sorry. I'm not usually this dramatic or rude to people I'm not on a first name basis with yet. I'm Alexandrea Montgomery, and you are? ❞

Her first step into Code Latte came with the familiar slam of the door and the sharper scent of cinnamon and espresso hitting her like a warm uppercut. She’d barely peeled off her ID badge before Dizzy barked something like “You look like hell, sugar, sit your ass down before your knees give out.” So she did. It wasn’t really a choice. She slid into the booth across from Alexandrea without waiting for an invitation, balancing a paper cup between her hands like it held something stronger than espresso and pure stubbornness. Her hair was still damp from a too-fast rinse after the trauma bay and her scrub top had that telltale crease of someone who’d power-napped sitting upright somewhere they shouldn’t have. “You say that like caffeine addiction isn’t just part of the oath,” she said dryly, tipping her cup in salute. “First, do no harm. Second, mainline espresso. Third, lie to your residents about how well you’re sleeping.” She let out a breath that was almost a laugh, leaning back just slightly. The tension in her shoulders hadn’t quite loosened, but being here, hearing Dizzy swear at someone in the background about oat milk foam, it helped. “Besides,” she added, gaze flicking toward Alexandrea’s screen, “you’ve clearly already sold your soul to the charting gods. Caffeine’s the least of your sins.” Her mouth curved into a tired grin. “You always this dramatic on your breaks?"

[wildbrokenmosaics]

Alexandrea had shut her laptop closed after quickly saving her progress in the system and shutting in down with a satisfying, albeit soft thud before she'd looked up to pose the question to one of Kingsley's most hardworking and promising surgical interns once she entered. ❝ Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure they offer the very same sludge to us in the attendings' lounge. At least there's that, but why is the benchmark for alarming unwellness hallucinating patients, anyway? ❞ She tried to offer out without missing much of a beat as if it were a consolating sentiment meant to provide her more comfort than it actually did with a slight shrug of her shoulders and a gentle shake of her head in amusement from remembering the struggles of being an intern.

❝ I probably bring my work in here with me more than I should. Lord knows Dizzy has smacked me with the menu over it more times than I can count by now. ❞ The brunette attending tried to make light of the situation with a self-conscious soft chuckle as the intern made herself at home in the seat across from her. ❝ Yeah, its kind of a little slice of heaven away from the rushed chaos of our workplace. ❞

Nodding in agreement with her assessment of the space before reaching for her cup of double-shot espresso and taking a sip before realising with a slight creasing in her eyebrows when she looked into the cup, only to realise that she'd just savoured the last few drops of her now depleted caffeine serving. So, she rose from her seat with the coffee cup in hand as a chuckle of mortification escaped her lips and she responded to her last question with concern etched in her rather telling gaze when looking at the seated younger woman's current state. ❝ I guess you could say that you've caught me in a bit of a weird mood. Don't worry, you typically won't have to deal with me being so philosphical this early in the morning whenever I finally manage to get you on my service for a week. I'm going to get a refill up at the counter; can I get you anything while I'm there? Its Dr Pardo, right? ❞

Camila hadn’t meant to stumble into the café like a deer caught in headlights — but she had, hood of her light jacket drawn up over her curls, cheeks flushed from the breeze outside and her anxiety from realizing she left her phone in a Lyft on her way back from a rotation that had gone on three hours too long. Intern life was glamorous like that. Still, the warmth of the café greeted her like a hug, and the smell — cinnamon, espresso, fresh pastry — practically melted the tension from her shoulders. She scanned the interior absently, mostly searching for an empty corner to disappear into, but then her gaze caught on a familiar brunette figure tucked into a table near the back. Alexandrea Montgomery. The Alexandrea Montgomery. It took Camila half a second longer than it should have to register the woman’s presence, and maybe another two to process that she was being spoken to. Her lips parted with a breath of surprise — because she wasn’t used to attendings even noticing interns like her, let alone talking to them like they weren’t just disposable coffee fetching machines in scrubs. But Dr. Montgomery always seemed… different. Commanding in the OR, yes, and definitely someone you didn’t want to cross, but never unfair. Always sharp. Always composed. Always infuriatingly elegant, even when her hair was pulled back into a bun that had clearly survived three surgeries and a near code blue. Camila blinked, then grinned — small at first, crooked at the edge, like a secret being let out. ❝ That sounds about right, ❞ she said as she slipped into the seat across from Alexandrea without asking, peeling off her jacket and setting it down beside her. ❝ I think I’ve burned a hole through my stomach lining from drinking the sludge they serve in the resident lounge. ❞ A pause. Then, eyes glinting with playful sharpness, ❝ But hey, at least I haven’t hallucinated any patients yet. That counts for something, right? ❞ The warmth in her voice wasn’t forced — it came from that stubborn optimism she’d clung to since day one of med school. Even when things went to hell, which they often did, Camila tried to find a thread to hold onto. Maybe that was why she’d ended up at Kingsley in the first place — still a little raw from the mess she left back in Miami, still proving to herself that she was strong enough to be here. She leaned forward a little, elbows on the table, voice a notch softer. ❝ You come here a lot? ❞ she asked, glancing around the café before returning her gaze to Alexandrea. ❝ It’s kind of nice. I mean, it smells like actual coffee instead of bleach and trauma. That’s… kind of rare. ❞ A beat passed before Camila smirked again, this time with a little more fire. ❝ You always this philosophical before 10 a.m., or did I just catch you in a mood? ❞