Chapter Text
The alarm went off at five in the morning.
Vi slapped it quiet and stared at the ceiling for a second. The call room was dim and cold, and the thin blanket had slipped to the floor sometime in the night. She swung her legs over the edge of the cot and sat there while the tired in her bones caught up with the rest of her.
It had been months into residency, and her body still hadn’t learned what to do with the hours. Her badge read: Violet, PGY-1, Internal Medicine. Everyone called her Vi. And the badge still felt new.
She scrubbed her face in the tiny sink, tied her hair up, and pulled on clean scrubs from the vending machine. The fabric was stiff from whatever industrial wash they used, but at least it was clean.
She clipped her pager to her waistband and slid her phone into the top pocket.
Four texts from Caitlyn sat on the lock screen from two hours ago.
good morning, love. break a leg.
well, do not actually break a leg.
I also have rehearsal till noon.
call when you can. love you.
Vi smiled without meaning to and typed back with one thumb while she filled a paper cup with stale coffee from the lounge.
Hey, Cupcake. I’ll try to call after rounds. Knock them dead.
By 6 AM, Vi was walking the hallway with her team. Dr. Grayson was the attending this week, tall and calm with a voice that could settle a room.
The senior resident, Mel, had the speed and memory of someone who had not slept much since 2019 and made peace with it. Two other interns walked with Vi, shuffling work lists and vitals.
They moved as a small pack from room to room. The hospital was already awake. Machines hummed. A floor tech laughed at a joke that Vi did not catch.
A nurse rolled past with a cart and a grin and said, “PGY-ones, make sure to hydrate.”
Vi chuckled and lifted her own cup of coffee like a toast.
Their first patient was Mr. Reaves, sixty-eight, heart failure, salt on hold, smile still quick. He sat up when they came in. “Morning, doc. Any chance I can get real water today?”
Vi checked the chart and the swelling in his legs and the way his breaths came easier than yesterday. “Maybe this afternoon if you keep looking this good,” she said, and winked like they had a secret.
The second room held a college kid who drank more than his liver liked last night. He looked green and ashamed. Mel did the talk with a soft tone and clear steps. Fluids, anti-nausea, a short note on choices. Vi watched the way Mel spoke without judgment and copied it in her head.
By 8 AM, rounds were done. Orders went in. Vi stood at a computer and signed labs, put in diet changes, called radiology to check on a scan time, and answered a nurse’s question about a potassium recheck.
Then her phone buzzed with a message from Caitlyn.
It was a mirror shot taken in the sunlit studio. The wide floor stretched behind her, tape marks still visible, and the afternoon light spilled across the glass.
Caitlyn stood in the middle of it, alone, phone held low as if she had been waiting for her friends to arrive.
Vi smiled as soon as she saw it. She saved the photo and set it as her background. Not the lock screen. She didn’t want questions if a nurse or attending caught a glimpse when she handed her phone over.
Vi had about half an hour before her next task. Claggor and Mylo had timed it on purpose and were already waiting across the street at a small diner that served strong coffee and eggs at all hours. Vi crossed against the light and slid into the booth.
“Look at you,” Mylo said, waving a fork at her badge. “Doctor Vi. How many lives have you saved today?”
“Just three cups of coffee and a heart failure,” Vi said. “We are aiming for stable, not heroic.” she said, chuckling.
Claggor snorted. “Stable is heroic after five. You eating or drinking your breakfast?”
“Both,” Vi said, and they flagged the server. The cups hit the table and the steam smelled better than the lounge brew by a mile.
The three of them had known each other since they were kids. They had done homework on kitchen floors and borrowed each other’s shoes for school dances and cried on the same front steps when life hit hard. They had not grown out of it. They just learned to meet at better coffee shops.
“So,” Mylo said while he split his pancakes into perfect triangles. “How is the secret girlfriend.”
Vi rolled her eyes and stirred sugar into her cup. “She is not secret. Just... private.”
“Private to the point where your Instagram looks like you live in a monastery,” Mylo said. “I respect it. But I also think you're allergic to posting your face.”
Claggor smiled at his plate. “Cait posted a rehearsal story last night. She seemed busy. How are you guys?”
“Doing good. Content,” Vi said, and she meant it. “The group has a big show next month. They’ve been at the studio from morning to night. Cait’s been so tired lately.”
“Have you seen yourself?” Claggor said, pointing his fork at her. “You’re like a walking zombie. Maybe you should actually try sleeping on your free time instead of...you know, your shenanigans?”
Mylo leaned back in the booth, nodding. “Yeah. You’re missing work just to go to Cait’s shows and she doesn’t even know it.”
“It’s fine," Vi huffed and sipped at her coffee again. "Besides, she’d only nag me for skipping work.”
“Work and sleep,” Claggor corrected, raising his brows.
They weren’t wrong. Vi had been slipping into as many of Caitlyn’s shows as she could. Anything close enough that she could duck out, watch, and still make it back to the hospital in time.
Sometimes she faked being sick just to get the day off, squeezing herself into the crowd like any other fan. Other times, when she couldn’t justify missing a shift, she’d drive over anyway, park outside the stadium, and listen to the faint thundering of Caitlyn’s group performing inside before heading back.
Only Mylo and Claggor knew. She never told Caitlyn.
Cait would be furious if she found out Vi was slacking off at work just to watch her perform. But Vi loved seeing her in her element, even if it was only for a few stolen songs.
From the first time Caitlyn performed in middle school, standing tall in front of everyone like she had been born for it, Vi knew she was meant for bigger stages. The spotlight fit her, and Vi never wanted to take that away.
They had been together so long it sometimes felt like the world had shifted again and again, and yet somehow left the two of them standing in the same place. Childhood sweethearts, if you wanted to call it that.
Now Caitlyn had a career that took her across the world, cameras flashing, interviews waiting.
And Vi had her residency. Long nights in sterile halls, coffee that tasted like cardboard, and patients who needed her steady hands. Medicine hadn’t been a random choice for her, after all.
Back when her adoptive dad, Vander, was still alive, Vi remembered how he used to point out the way she always looked after people. Patch up a scraped knee, sit with someone when they were scared, step in without being asked. He once told her she had a knack for it, that helping people seemed to come easy to her.
So, after he passed, those words stayed with her. By the time she got to college, it wasn’t even a question anymore. She put her head down, studied harder than she thought she could, and made it happen.
And now, of course, she understood why Caitlyn’s life was filled with people and attention and constant motion. She wanted that for her, wanted her to shine.
Still, there were moments that Vi felt that... pinch.
“You should’ve seen yourself last time,” Mylo said with a grin. “You turned your head the second the crowd screamed for Cait and Maddie sitting together.”
“Or when they touched hands in choreography,” Claggor added, chuckling. “You looked like you were ready to throw your shoes at the stage.”
Vi rolled her eyes and muttered into her coffee, but her ears burned all the same. She remembered the time they had even gone with her to a fansigning.
Vi had hung back at the edge of the room, hood pulled low, while Mylo and Claggor grinned like idiots and got their posters signed. The two of them still teased her about how she wouldn’t even look up when Caitlyn was only a few feet away, laughing and talking to the fans.
And Vi was happy for her. She always had been.
When Cait smiled in photos with her group, when fans cheered her name, when Maddie leaned close in a rehearsal clip like they were sharing a secret.
Vi told herself it was silly. Caitlyn would always be hers, and nothing was stronger than what they had built. So she never said anything.
The last thing she wanted was to make Caitlyn feel guilty for chasing her dream, or to weigh her down with insecurities. Instead, Vi kept the jealousy tucked away, hidden behind smiles and late-night texts that always told Caitlyn how proud she was.
And it was true. Being proud of Cait always came first, even when the quiet sting of jealousy crept in uninvited.
Claggor broke the silence this time, sliding his cup aside. “But you know, if I had a popstar girlfriend, I’d be bragging every five minutes.”
“You're gonna be so annoying,” Mylo said with a grin. “The whole city would know it before the group members get announced.”
Vi huffed a laugh and leaned back in her seat, letting them have their fun. Her coffee had long gone cold, but she drank it anyway, gaze drifting to the window where the city stretched out, alive in a way she rarely had the time to notice.
Somewhere across town, Caitlyn was already hours into her day.
The rehearsal studio was loud with the thump of bass through the speakers, mirrored walls reflecting five different versions of the same routine.
Caitlyn stood in formation with Ahri, Seraphine, Kai’Sa, and Maddie, their bodies moving in sync, sneakers squeaking lightly against the polished floor.
“From the top,” the choreographer called out. “Sharper this time. No lag between transitions.”
Ahri sighed dramatically, flipping her hair as she adjusted her mic pack. “You’re asking us to be machines. We’re human. Beautiful, dazzling humans, but still human.” Her grin made the others laugh, even as she slid right back into position.
Seraphine twirled her mic in her hand, still catching her breath. “She’s right though. Machines don’t need water breaks.” But her tone was light, her energy infectious, the kind of brightness that kept the room from dragging.
Kai’Sa didn’t say a word but was smiling too. She adjusted her stance, eyes locked on the mirror, running the steps silently in her head until the beat kicked in again.
Maddie leaned against the wall for a moment before the music restarted, arms crossed loosely over her chest. “Don’t mess up this time,” she teased, shooting Caitlyn a smirk. “I don’t feel like running it again.”
Caitlyn arched a brow. “Funny. I was about to say the same to you.”
“Touché,” Maddie said with a half-grin, pushing off the wall just as the beat dropped.
The song thundered through the room again, all five of them snapping into motion. Caitlyn’s movements were sharp and deliberate, her voice steady when she came in on her lines.
Ahri’s charisma filled the mirror like she was already on stage, Seraphine’s high notes blended perfectly, and Kai’Sa’s timing gave the whole routine its backbone. Maddie added the edge, her stage presence heavy and cool, grounding the performance.
Together, they looked every bit the unit their fans expected them to be.
When the music cut, the choreographer finally gave a short nod. “Better. One hour break, then we go again.”
Ahri immediately dropped to the floor with a groan, fanning herself with both hands. “I’m filing for workplace abuse.”
Seraphine laughed and plopped down beside her, still humming the hook under her breath. “You say that every practice.”
Kai’Sa was already in the corner with her water bottle, towel around her neck. Maddie sat cross-legged against the mirror, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t tired at all, though the sweat on her forehead told a different story.
Caitlyn lowered herself onto the floor slowly, stretching out her legs, the ache sharp in her calves.
She reached for her own water, unscrewing the cap with careful fingers. Her phone rested face down beside her, but she gave in after a moment, sliding it into her lap and unlocking the screen.
She typed quickly, keeping the words short, like if she lingered too long someone might notice.
Hope your rounds aren’t killing you today. Eat something, please. I miss you.
Her thumb hovered over send for a beat, then she pressed it, the tiny whoosh of the message disappearing making her chest feel both lighter and heavier at once.
“Who’re you texting?”
Ahri’s voice came from right behind her. Caitlyn startled, almost dropping the phone. She glanced over her shoulder to see Ahri leaning down, a grin tugging at her lips, eyes sharp with curiosity.
“No one,” Caitlyn quickly said, slipping the phone face down again and reaching for her water like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“No one, huh?” Ahri teased, settling cross-legged beside her.
Caitlyn took a slow drink and shrugged, keeping her face neutral. “Just my dad, checking in. Nothing exciting.”
“Dad,” Ahri repeated, unconvinced, drawing out the word. She poked Caitlyn’s shoulder lightly before leaning back on her hands. “Fine, fine.”
Before Caitlyn had to answer, Seraphine perked up from across the room. “Break’s over already?” she asked the choreographer, saving Caitlyn from having to spin another excuse.
Around her, the group was alive with chatter.
But there were things Caitlyn couldn’t say.
Back when they were trainees, the rules had been drilled into them from day one. No dating, no relationships, no distractions.
The agency called it “protecting the image,” like they were pieces of glass that would crack if anyone saw the truth of who they were outside of the spotlight. They’d all been warned that fans wanted perfection, not real lives.
Caitlyn had nodded along at the time, kept her head down, and worked harder than anyone else.
But now, years later, the group had debuted, the world knew their names, and the rules hadn’t disappeared. The official line was still clear: no relationships.
Don’t risk the brand.
Don’t risk your names.
And Caitlyn had agreed. Mostly because Vi had asked her to. She could still hear Vi’s voice the night before their debut, steady but soft.
"Keep it for now, Cait. You don’t need the stress. Not when the spotlight is yours. Promise me."
And Caitlyn had promised, because she knew Vi was right. Because she loved her enough to protect her from the noise that came with her dream.
Even so, sometimes it killed her.
Sitting here on the floor with her closest friends, people she trusted more than anyone else in the industry, and she couldn’t say a word.
Couldn’t tell them about her girlfriend who texted her good morning every day, who always knew when she needed a joke, who made her feel grounded when the world was too loud.
She couldn’t tell them how much she missed Vi’s voice, her laugh, the way she fit so naturally into Caitlyn’s life no matter how chaotic it got.
In fact, they had already lived together once.
Back then, it felt like proof that they had carved out a space just for themselves. Vi had just graduated, and Caitlyn was preparing to debut with her group. They were both busy but still found time to plan for the future they wanted.
The rented apartment was small, but it was theirs. Late-night takeout, Vi’s textbooks stacked on the table, Caitlyn’s practice notes scattered across the couch. For a while, it worked.
But once Caitlyn’s tours began and Vi started her residency, the place sat empty more often than not. Days even passed without them crossing paths under the same roof.
Eventually, it stopped making sense to keep paying rent for a home neither of them had the time to live in. They gave up the apartment quietly. Caitlyn moved her things back to her dad’s house, and Vi poured what little free time she had into the hospital.
It wasn’t a breakup. But the distance was real.
Now, when Caitlyn finished rehearsals and dragged herself home late at night, it was often to a quiet house. And Vi wasn’t on call, she would stop by. Sometimes just for an hour, sometimes long enough to fall asleep beside Caitlyn before her pager went off again.
Caitlyn never complained. She knew Vi’s work mattered, just as Vi knew Caitlyn’s career demanded every part of her.
She and Vi had also promised each other they had no regrets about the paths they’d chosen. They knew the long nights and the distance were only temporary.
One day, when things finally steadied, when Caitlyn’s career allowed her to breathe and Vi’s residency gave way to something more manageable, they could return to the life they had once planned together.
All of this, every sacrifice, was still for that future.
Still, it left Caitlyn aching in moments like this, surrounded by friends but unable to say the one thing that sat on the tip of her tongue.
I miss her. I miss our life together.
She turned her water bottle in her hands, thumb brushing over the condensation.
Across the room, Seraphine and Ahri were laughing about something, their voices overlapping with playful bickering over who had botched the choreography first. Kai’Sa and Maddie stayed on the floor, stretching their calves while chuckling at the exchange.
The air was still heavy with the thump of bass and the sharp echo of sneakers on polished wood when the rehearsal coordinator finally clapped his hands.
“That’s it for today. Good work, girls. You’re tighter than yesterday. Keep that energy for the showcase.”
A ripple of relief moved through the room.
Ahri and Maddie stretched their arms overhead with matching grins, Seraphine clapped her hands together as she hummed the chorus under her breath, and even Kai’Sa gave a small, approving nod before reaching for her towel.
They grabbed their things, chatter spilling into the hallway as they debated where to head for food.
Caitlyn slipped her phone into her pocket and trailed behind them, head down. Just as they pushed open the exit doors, her screen lit up with a familiar name.
Vi calling...
Her heart jumped. She slowed her steps, letting the others move ahead, before quietly slipping out a different door.
The sunlight was sharp as she stepped onto the street, tucking her cap low and walking a little farther down the block, just enough to be out of earshot. She hit accept.
“Hey,” Caitlyn said, voice softening without her meaning to.
“Hey, Cupcake.” Vi’s voice came warm through the line, a little rushed, but it still carried that steady note Caitlyn always clung to. “You girls done with the rehearsal?”
“Yeah,” Caitlyn said, stepping further down the block to put some distance between herself and the others. “We wrapped a few minutes ago. It actually went well today. The choreographer didn’t tear us apart for once.”
Vi chuckled softly. “That’s a win. I wish I could’ve seen it.”
“I'll give you a recording of our practice later.” Caitlyn smiled faintly, though her chest ached at the thought of Vi only being able to watch from her phone. “How’s the hospital?”
“Busy,” Vi admitted. “But manageable. I just got back after rounds. Stopped for a quick coffee with Mylo and Claggor this morning before things got crazy. They won’t stop giving me shit about keeping you hidden from the world.” she continued, chuckling.
Caitlyn laughed under her breath, leaning her shoulder against the brick wall of the building. “Sounds like them. Tell them I said hi, and to mind their own business.”
“I did,” Vi said, warmth in her tone. “Didn’t work.”
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Caitlyn could hear faint footsteps and a muffled announcement over the hospital’s PA system on Vi’s end, the sounds of a life she rarely got to see up close anymore.
“I miss you,” Caitlyn said quietly. The words slipped out before she could weigh them.
“I miss you too.” Vi’s reply was soft, immediate. “More than I can put into words right now.”
Just then, a sharp buzz cut through the line on Vi’s end. Caitlyn heard her sigh, the sound heavy.
“Shit. Paged again.”
Cait's heart sank, though she forced herself to stay steady. “Go. I know you have to.”
“Sorry, Cupcake. I’ll call again when I can.” Vi’s voice softened, almost like a promise. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Caitlyn whispered back.
By the time she caught up to the others, Ahri was animatedly describing a new restaurant she wanted to try, Seraphine and Kai’Sa were nodding along eagerly, and Maddie glanced over at Caitlyn with a small smirk but said nothing.
As they walked, Seraphine suddenly laughed, shaking her head. “You know, it still kills me how seriously fans take those ship edits.”
“Oh, here we go,” Maddie muttered, but the corner of her mouth curved.
Ahri twirled her water bottle dramatically. “What? You mean me and Sera being the ultimate power couple online?”
“You do act like a married pair half the time,” Kai’Sa pointed out dryly, earning a playful nudge from Seraphine.
“Exactly!” Seraphine laughed, then turned to Caitlyn with a grin. “But nothing tops the classic. Cait and Maddie. The fandom’s favorite tall-short duo.”
Maddie smirked and slung her arm loosely around Caitlyn’s shoulders. “Our chemistry is undeniable.”
Caitlyn shook her off with a roll of her eyes, though the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “I still think shipping is ridiculous.”
“Not as ridiculous as mine,” Kai’Sa cut in, her voice calm but tinged with amusement. “Apparently I’m in a poly relationship with all of you.”
Seraphine nearly doubled over laughing. “Oh my god, yes! I even saw one fanfic called the Kai’Sa harem arc.”
Ahri burst into giggles, clutching her side. “You’re too powerful. One woman carrying the whole group romance plotline.”
“The manager says it’s nonsense,” Seraphine added once she caught her breath. “But secretly I think he’s relieved. People keep talking about us, even if it’s for shipping wars.”
“Free publicity,” Ahri said with a sly grin. “Let them ship away.”
“Good thing none of us are actually dating anyone,” Seraphine added, laughing as she adjusted the strap of her bag. “Can you imagine? Our partners would probably lose their minds seeing all those ship stuff.”
Kai’Sa tilted her head, amused. “Or worse. Can you imagine the chaos if one of us went public with a relationship? The meltdown would be bigger than our debut.”
Maddie smirked. “Half the fandom would riot, I'm sure. The other half would make conspiracy threads about how it’s fake and just part of the concept.”
The group broke into laughter again, the kind that spilled out easily after long hours in the studio. Their voices bounced down the street, light and carefree.
Caitlyn laughed along with them, but her throat felt tight.
To everyone else, it was just a harmless joke, a silly what-if to laugh about. But for her, it was the truth she carried every day.