Chapter Text
“Good afternoon, you are through to Y/N how may I help?” You answered the phone in your most upbeat customer service voice.
“Right, I purchased, 2 lightbulbs 4 months ago and I want to return them.” Of course, they did. Why wouldn't they? Customers just lived to make your life as difficult as it was humanly possible.
“I am afraid our returns policy is 30 days, so I can only assist you if they are faulty.” You replied, bracing for the inevitable.
“Well, this is outrageous! I want to speak to your manager.” You sighed facing away from the receiver as you transferred the call to your manager.
At least it was a quick call just before the end of your shift. You and half the call center stared at the clock near the exit.
5:28
You sure hoped you were not going to get a call in the next 2 minutes.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
But of course, you did; your life sucked.
It was 8:34 when after a subway and bus ride you finally unlocked the door to your small flat which you shared with a messy roommate for the past 3 years. Not that you could complain much about Claire when you were a mess yourself. You have both long given up on the idea of a dream girl’s apartment, decorated with throw pillows and fluffy blankets. You washed your sheets once a month and threw away food when it started to smell or change colour. It wasn’t as if either of you ever received guests.
It was 14 months after you graduated from Metropolis University as a graphic designer that you last invited a man back to your apartment. He ended up heading home after Claire’s attempt at friendly small talk scared him off. “He was a little sensitive,” Claire commented after he had left. “I just wanted to measure his scalp to see how much alien DNA he’s got.” You decided to be the one staying over from then on. If you had ever gone on a successful date that is. Which was never.
You weren’t one of those women who needed a man in her life. In fact, you would have been perfectly happy to have a successful career and a group of fun friends to keep your life fulfilled. However, none of that was going according to plan has it? You didn’t even have a plan anymore. Long ago you were meant to get a promotion from intern to graduate graphic designer, but your employers kept passing on the opportunity to your peers. Perhaps your portfolio was at fault, so you decided to take some time off from slaving away for free and took a job in a call center to make some money and build your artwork. You have been working in the same call center ever since.
You sometimes wondered; had you stuck around long enough as an intern instead of abandoning it to become a starving artist would your career have kicked in eventually. But then you only had to look at Claire; getting up at 4 am each morning to pick up her boss's dry cleaning to know that you would still be doing coffee runs.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
You sat up in alarm on the couch you nearly passed out on as soon as you got in.
“Haha, I knew that would get you! I changed the ringtone to that awful one you have at work.” Claire chuckled like the Disney villain she was before faltering as realization had sunk in.
It was one of your parents. Nobody else had ever rung your landline.
“You answer it!”
“No, you do! You literally answer phones for the living!” Claire taunted.
You held out your arm, hand in a fist, face serious. Claire did the same. Showtime.
“Rock, paper, scissors!”
“Rock, paper, scissors!”
You won. You could hardly believe it. You never won anything.
“Yeah sure, she’s here. Y/N it’s your mom...” You stopped your internal happy dance as Claire held out the phone towards you. She had desecrated the bro code. Your pact. The one and only house rule; if a parent called, you covered for each other.
You could hear your mom calling your name as you sat there glaring at Claire. You had no choice but to take it.
“Hi mom.”
“Oh hi, honey! You sure took your time...”
You knew what she was calling about. It was about your holiday. Last time you were speaking to your mom you had let it slip that you have been too broke to take a holiday yet this year and had all this annual leave. Her response was like a car crash aftermath. She had immediately suggested you come back to Crockett Island for a quick visit.
“Have you got the tickets?”
“Yes mom, they came in the mail yesterday.”
Three more weeks and you would be on a flight to the nearest mainland then taking an hour-long ferry ride to that godforsaken patch of dirt you managed to dig your way out of. Well, perhaps your awful salary and the cockroach advancing towards your takeaway on the coffee table would suggest otherwise, you really felt like your move to Metropolis was your greatest achievement. The world was your oyster here. Or would be, if you could afford anything.
Nothing ever happened on Crockett Island. A small fishing town that went broke after all the fish died off from an oil spill. Everyone with an ounce of potential has moved away and you would like to think that you were one of them.
“You know honey, a lot has changed while you have been gone. I think you will really enjoy your visit.”
Mom, ever the optimist. You bet she was referring to the new Rec centre that was under construction 7 years ago when you moved out. Was it finally done? You couldn’t be bothered to ask. You could hardly get a word in any way. Unlike you, your mother wasn’t shy about asking questions.
“How’s work?”
“Have you painted anything nice recently?”
“How’s your love life? Met anyone special yet?”
Fortunately, she has hardly let you answer before jumping on the next question. Claire snickered as she heard you dodge some of the questions. Then she was busy telling you all about your sister and her perfect husband and your little nieces and nephews.
You decided to check on your dating profile tonight. Your love life has taken a back seat for the past year, because of how busy and tired you were all the time, but a silly daydream about going home to Crockett hand-in-hand with a tall, dark, handsome stranger fueled your motivation. You did have 3 whole weeks to make it happen, perhaps you would get lucky.
After your mom finally hang up and wished you goodnight you spent the evening browsing Tinder as if it was an assorted Amazon page. You may not have gotten laid for years, but you still had standards. Tall, dark and handsome. Your new mantra. It was a little past midnight when you finally swiped right. Tim, his name was. Ticked all the boxes from the looks of it.
You dolled up the next day and had a coffee in a local Starbucks on your lunch break. Your colleagues commented on your looks all day, which made you a little uncomfortable, especially when your boss Gary started going on about his squeaky-clean record in the copy room, but it was all worth it. Tim was even more attractive in person, and you scheduled a dinner for Friday night. It was a real hit too. Or so you thought. You were about to break your 3rd date rule, but he insisted on going to your place. Then you had a good look at him. Sure enough, the indent of his recently removed wedding band gave him away. You felt stupid for not paying attention to it before.
When you got upset, he even had the nerve to try and kiss you.
“Sorry, I thought this is what you wanted.”
It sort of was, but somewhere under all the pent-up sexual energy, your morals shouted at you to stop. So, you did. Walked home on your own as always.
You didn’t bother to open Tinder. Went straight to your inbox to see if there were any new updates to your favourite fanfiction. There wasn’t. Just advertisement after advertisement. Bumble, Christian Mingle, Match.com, Dating Daddy.
Dating Daddy?
What the hell was that? It sounded... intriguing to say the least. So, you threw caution to the wind and clicked. Potential spyware, be damned.
It was a dating sim. A link to the Play Store.
Wow, even Google's algorithm concluded that you were a loser at dating. Yet, you clicked again. And again. Then scrolled through the Terms & Conditions. The longest Terms & Conditions you have ever read. Well, scrolled past.
If you reflected on this with some positive attitude, it didn’t have to be a sad pathetic thing. It was made for entertainment after all. How different is a dating sim from a rom-com? Barely any difference, right? So, you opened your new game with a little giggle, hoping it had some mature content too.
It was a little predictable, like all dating sims from what you knew of them, but perhaps because you have never played one before, or because you were a lonely spinster, you stayed up until 3 am familiarizing yourself with all the love-interests. Over the coming weeks, you would romance them all; the childhood best friend, the millionaire, the nerd, the bad boy, the scary boy, and the Christian boy with a dark secret. Before you knew it you were on a flight back to Crockett, and while you were annoyed that you had to put your phone on flight mode you were no longer crest-fallen over heading home on your own.
When you got to Portview, you were surprised to see that the ferry to Crockett had an upgrade. While it was not a cruise ship, it was certainly new and clean and lacked the smell of fish. Perhaps this was one of the new additions your mother referred to.
Maybe, just maybe, if you tried to be optimistic you would enjoy this trip. You were an artist, after all, heading to an island full of scenery. Dull scenery, sure but that’s where your artistic vision would step in.
Besides, it’s not as if you would get up to anything more productive back in Metropolis either. In fact, Crockett probably had just as many unavailable married men to try and ruin your reputation as back in the city. Heartbreak and spinsterhood would surely make you feel right at home again. If not, you always had your little game to keep you entertained.
Eventually, as you got bored on the ride you decided to make use of the said app and loaded up Dating Daddy. You were currently on your 4th playthrough and aiming to seduce the hot doctor. He was a relatively easy character to romance, much easier than some of the others like Christian Daddy that was waiting for marriage. You had to restart the save file several times before you managed to get in his pants.
“Y/N I think I am in love with you.” Announced Doctor Daddy in the end game cut scene. The lines were a little corny, sure but you were having fun anyway. So much so, you have completely missed someone shouting in your direction.
“Watch out!”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Ouch.
Your head hurt.
What the hell happened?!
You began to sit up, your eyes blinded by fluorescent lights at first, however, it didn’t take you long to figure out you were in a hospital. Something must have happened, and the ferry carried you back to the mainland. It was very fancy. You were in your own room like in those hospital sitcoms. Gosh, you were going to be so broke after this! There was no way a place like this was a state hospital. Why would you get taken to some private facility was beyond you.
Then the door to your room opened.
Holy smokes. That man was smokin’. Tall, with salt and pepper hair, a white lab coat and a stethoscope loosely draped around his shoulder to drive the point home: he was a hot doctor.
He has yet to lift his head from the chart he was flipping through. He seemed deep. Then he glanced up at you. Then back down. Then back up again.
“Oh, you’re awake! And sitting up. That’s wonderful!” He beamed.
You were fucking speechless. His eyes were like amber dipped in molten chocolate. He must have noticed you staring like a dumbass and he began to look a little concerned.
“Hey, do you know where you are?” You shook your head.
“Do you remember what happened to you?” You shook it again, still not finding your voice. Maybe he’s about to tell you, you have gone mute from head trauma? It’s either that or he was the most handsome thing you have ever seen.
“Can you hold your head still and follow my finger with your eyes please?” He asked as he sat down on a little rotating stool and shone a bright penlight in your eye.
It seems you passed whatever test that was, and he went back to asking questions.
“Do you remember your name?”
“Yes.” Finally, you have found your voice. “It’s Y/N.”
“Phew, that’s a relief! You looked a little spacey just then, but your vitals seem fine and if you can talk and remember your name that brain damage can’t be too bad!”
“Brain damage?!” You shrieked.
He looked mortified.
“I am really sorry. That um, was a joke. I use humour as a coping mechanism when I am tense.” He explained with an embarrassed smile. He was tense, huh? You wondered what could be done about that.
“It’s fine. It was funny, really. Doctor...”
“Where are my manners? It’s Doctor Jim Ellis. I have been looking after you since you got here.”
“When was I admitted?”
“Three years ago – no, sorry, not funny.” He scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “You were admitted just a couple of hours ago.”
Phew! That would have been bad.
“Could you tell me what happened Doctor Ellis?”
“Oh please, call me Jim.” He waved his hand at you as he looked down at your chart.
“So, it says here you were pushed aboard by large luggage that got loose and rolled towards you. CPR had to be performed...” He placed a warm, large, large hand on yours when you gasped, followed by a reassuring smile. “But you are perfectly fine.”
“I guess the ferry turned around then?” Jim looked confused by your question.
“We are in Portview aren’t we?”
“No, no, we are on Crockett Island. That was your destination island, wasn’t it?”
You blinked. Destination island?
“I am sorry, you see, I am from Crockett. Grew up here actually and there wasn’t a hospital here when I left.”
Understanding dawned on him.
“I see, you mustn’t have visited for a long while. This building was built 5 years ago by the Ellis Foundation.”
“Ellis Foundation? As in Doctor Ellis?”
Jim chuckled, looking bashful.
“Yes, that’s right. Um, you know that nasty flue from some years ago?”
“Wait... no, you cannot be. Are you that, Doctor Ellis?”
Jim just kept on blushing and staring down at his hands. The man was surely not one to brag.
“Yes, that would be me.” He shrugged.
You couldn’t believe it. The man treating the booboo on your head was none other than Nobel Prize-winning Doctor Jim Ellis. Just around the time, you started Uni in Metropolis a bad case up flue spread about worldwide. Mandatory lockdowns halted everything. Until none other than Doctor Ellis came up with a vaccine. At a 100% success rate no less. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing here. He read your mind.
“You see I wasn’t sure what to do with my prize money, so I decided to dedicate it to my passion for research!” He beamed, hands waving in the air as he talked. “So, I build this hospital, it’s not huge but has all the best equipment. We look after patients with rare conditions mostly. But of course, our clinic is always open to emergencies.”
As he said, he sounded extremely passionate about research and his hospital. Jim clearly struggled to stop smiling and hold onto his chart.
“If your treatment is not covered by your insurance consider it on the house.”
“On the house?” You asked incredulously.
“Yes, we make a lot of profit from investors, so don’t you worry. I have spoken with your mother, and it will all be taken care of.”
Oh no. Your mother must have made you out to be some kind of charity case. That said, weren’t you? It’s not like you could afford all the medical bills on your call center salary. Beggars cannot be choosers so, you politely thanked Jim for the offer. It was a generous offer. Rude to turn down really. You did hope it didn’t make things awkward between you though.
You checked his finger for a ring earlier and were happy to find it bare. You fully intended to show up in a couple of days with a bottle of ‘thank you’ wine and ask him out if things went well.
Shortly after that, he excused himself so he could continue his rounds. But not before giving your hand another squeeze.
You were about to imagine his hands elsewhere when your mother came into the room.
“Oh honey! You alright? You look awful...”
You did, you really did. The salty ocean water removed all your make up, left smudges and dried your skin out. You would have to put on a sheet mask ASAP to get rid of the flakiness. You hoped Jim thought you were cute but now you’re convinced he just felt bad for you. Especially if he got a summary about you from your mother. Still, it won’t hurt to swing by in a few days. Show him how you look when you weren’t technically dead a couple of hours ago. Or was that a joke too? You will have to check your chart to be sure.
“Mom, this is important. Where is my suitcase?”
“Oh, it’s just in the corner sweetie. Do you want me to get it for you?”
Yes, you did.
Your mother wheeled you out of the hospital the next morning. It was pristine and expensive. Very shiny and new. You were looking much more presentable too. You have blow-dried your hair in the ensuite of your room and put on a nice blouse with a pair of jeans and sandals. You went with a foolproof no-makeup look. One where any other woman would know immediately you got makeup on, but men were foolish enough to think you didn’t. When you got to the exit you stood so the nurse can take the wheelchair away.
“Miss Y/N!” Jim called out making his way towards you from the elevator.
“Thought I would see you out.” Thank goodness for that, you didn’t dress up and style your hair for all the nurses and other patients.
“That’s very kind of you Jim, but we will be alright.” Your mother chimed in.
What was wrong with her? You could have sworn she tried to set you up with a distant cousin once, yet a hot doctor wanting to see you out was unnecessary? Your only consolation was that Jim looked a little deflated too.
“Thank you for looking after me Jim.” You smiled at him. Your voice is just a touch deeper than usual. Jim gulped. Huh, subtle but effective.
“It’s no problem, just doing my job.” You stared at each other for a moment longer but your mother tapping her foot was hard to ignore. “If you develop any sudden headaches, please do come back to see me.” Jim said before walking back to the elevator, leaving you to release a big sigh before your mom rushed you out of the hospital.
So engrossed you were in thoughts of Doctor Jim Ellis you nearly missed the sight in front of you. Crockett Island looked incredible. The dingy island you have left behind looked like a concrete jungle covered in a green paradise. The roads were new with trees and plats neatly planted next to wooded benches on the sidewalk. The buildings were all new and expensive-looking too. Off to the distance, you spotted what looked like the town, scratch that, city center. There was a large building that must have been a mall and was that a skyscraper with a garden on top of it?! How did you not see that from the ferry? Oh yes, you were playing Dating Daddy.
“See, I told you we got new things!” Your mother said with her worst ‘I told you so’ expression. You understood now, why she wanted to get you out of the hospital. How could she wait any longer to rub this in your face?
When you asked where she parked, she huffed.
“Well, I thought if you were well enough, we could take the tram. We are very environmentally friendly here.”
“T-the tram?” Sure, enough your mom led you to a nearby Tram stop.
On your way home you couldn’t help but wonder if you were dreaming. Or stayed dead, drowned in the water and somehow made it to Paradise. You weren’t a religious woman by any means, but you deserved some kudos for not sleeping with Tim and ruining his marriage.
You passed shops, hotels and indeed a shopping mall before you arrived where your childhood home used to be, only to be greeted by a much larger family home in what was the most perfect neighbourhood you have ever seen. You and your mom had a lot of catching up to do.
Perhaps the next 4 weeks on Crockett Island would be fun after all!