Chapter 2 – The Brilliant Mess

After two weeks of workshop activities, the interns officially began working in the hospital’s research labs.
Saint Clarion had three main lab teams, and each intern would rotate through them over the course of a year, spending four months with each.

For the first rotation, Zoe, Owen, and a few others were assigned to Dr. O’Neill’s team.
The placement was considered lucky—Alex’s name was well known even among interns.
Young, brilliant, and often featured in prestigious journals and conferences, his reputation preceded him.
But the moment they stepped into his office, that image shattered.

The room was an absolute mess.
Alex’s desk was buried beneath mountains of papers, dog-eared books, and a collection of half-finished coffee cups.
The three whiteboards covering the walls were packed with formulas—some violently scratched out, others overwritten again and again in different colors.
It wasn’t chaos for its own sake; it was a system only he understood… impenetrable to anyone else.

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Zoe had arrived early that morning, only to find the office still locked. She waited in the hallway until Owen showed up.
“Good morning,” Zoe offered politely, fidgeting.
“Morning,” Owen replied, a little shy, his eyes darting to the closed door.

“I’m glad to see you,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Most of the workshop group got placed on other teams. I’m kind of jealous—Nao and Kevin ended up together again.”
“Yeah… well,” Owen mumbled, eyes downcast.

Just then, a cheerful voice called out from down the hall:
“Sorry to keep you waiting! Good morning—I’m Jill Ashford, lab scientist. Nice to meet you both. Starting today, we’ll be working together.”

A woman with short, practical hair and brisk, athletic energy strode toward them, keys jingling in her hand.
She unlocked the door with a bright smile.
“This is the main office,” she said, gesturing them inside. “Next door is the break area—help yourself to drinks and snacks anytime. Your desks are… well…”
She hesitated, scanning the disaster zone before them.

“I can clean up a bit,” Zoe offered, already reaching for a stack of papers.
Before she could touch anything, a voice cut in from the doorway.
“Don’t touch anything.”

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They turned to see a man with warm brown eyes and a neatly trimmed beard.
He raised a hand in greeting. “Miguel. I’m Miguel García López, Research Fellow.”
He gestured toward Alex’s chaotic desk with a knowing look.
“It looks chaotic, but he knows exactly where everything is. If you shift a paper even an inch, he’ll throw a fit. Take the table by the window instead.”

Everyone nodded silently, making their way to the long table bathed in morning light.
“Welcome aboard,” Miguel added, setting his bag down.

A moment later, a petite woman with sharp posture entered the office.
She gave the newcomers a frosty glance, said nothing, and walked straight into the glass-walled lab adjacent to the main room.
“That’s Sally Adams, lab scientist,” Jill explained quietly. “Brilliant researcher. She just takes a while to warm up to people.”

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Trying to ease the awkwardness, Miguel turned to Zoe. “By the way, I really liked your presentation at the workshop. The mouse trial data was impressively organized.”
Jill nodded enthusiastically. “It was exceptionally well researched, and the editing was clean. Not common for first-year work.”

Zoe blushed. “It was really Nao’s idea. At first, I thought she was just trying to stand out, or maybe being idealistic… but once we started, it really began to matter.”
She paused, her fingers tracing the table’s edge.

“One morning, one of the neglected mice died. Nao looked at him for the longest time and said, ‘Why was he in this group and not the other one? We say every life matters, but we put him in this cage—just because another was full? Was that just bad luck? Was he doomed?’ We didn’t know what to say.”

Zoe smiled softly. “Then she said, ‘Maybe there’s a reason. That’s why we help as many of them as we can.’ That’s when I realized how serious she was about this work. After that, we all got more invested. We even started caring about the mice.”

Miguel smiled warmly. “That’s beautiful. Compassion makes for better science.”

Zoe laughed, lightening the mood. “Well, one day Kevin and Nao played their favorite hard rock for the mice. I thought it was great—but they worried later it might’ve been a bad idea.”

Everyone laughed, and the atmosphere relaxed. Casual conversations started up across the room as more team members filtered in.

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Just after 8:00 a.m., the door slammed open with enough force to rattle the glass walls.
In walked a man in a rumpled lab coat, his hair sticking up at odd angles, smelling faintly of last night’s alcohol.
He gave the newcomers a brief glance before turning to Miguel and Jill.
“You take care of them,” he said flatly, voice raspy.

Then he grabbed a book from the archaeological dig that was his desk, turned to what seemed like a random page, and began mumbling at a whiteboard filled with layered equations.
No one dared speak. Everyone pretended to read.

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By day’s end, their nerves hadn’t quite settled. Zoe and Owen walked toward the hospital gates in exhausted silence.

“Hi, Zoe! Hi, Owen!”
Naosa waved energetically from her bicycle. Kevin stood beside her, grinning.

Zoe’s face brightened with relief. “Nao!” She rushed over and gave her a quick hug.
Owen jogged up awkwardly behind her. “Hi…”
“Hi!!” Nao and Kevin both grinned. No trace of the past tension remained.

“How was your first day?” Naosa asked, leaning on her handlebars.
Zoe sighed dramatically. “Rough. I’m not sure I’ll survive four months.”
Nao and Kevin turned expectantly to Owen.
“Yeah… that’s true,” he said, his sigh perfectly in sync with Zoe’s.

“Oh well, it’s only the beginning. You’ll be fine,” Nao said, her optimism undimmed.
“You’ve got this,” Kevin added with a supportive nod.

“How about you two?” Zoe asked, trying to hide her envy.
“Lots to learn,” Kevin replied, “but the doctors are kind and the team’s good. So far, so good.”
“Good for you…” Zoe murmured.

“Four months will fly by,” Owen said, attempting to sound encouraging. “We’ll be on the next team before we know it.”
“Yeah,” Zoe nodded, not entirely convinced.

“All right, calling it a day! Good luck tomorrow!” Nao waved, checking her watch. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Bye!”
She hopped on her bike and rode off, weaving easily through the evening traffic.

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