Everett Ramos is a resident surgeon at Mercy West Hospital in Seattle, Washington. She's on the uphill climb to becoming one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the world, studying alongside her best friends and hoping one day to make a difference...
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ALCOHOL AND fear go hand in hand.
Everett is pouring back bourbon that scratches the lining of her throat, dancing along to bassy music that pounds through her feet all the way to her skull, hearing Jackson's laughter in her ear as they celebrate the end of their residency.
The woven carpet of Meredith Grey's too-big house has never seen a party with quite so many feet. All these residents stuck in the same living room, dancing to the same music they'd never actually listen to sober, swinging their hips out of time, and unbuttoning their shirts so that the sweat-slicked skin of their collarbones glint in the lighting. Jackson had loosened up slightly since April's news shocked them, allowing the burning tequila to lighten his senses and the music to bring him onto the dancefloor.
Everett hadn't missed any of the longing glances he'd sent towards a certain redhead, however. She'd have to ask about that when she was significantly soberer.
Said redhead goes running past them when one of her favourite songs starts to play over the speakers, jumping onto the table between Meredith and Cristina, to cheer her depressed lungs up. She hasn't been this drunk since their intern year. It definitely all comes down to the devastating news of earlier.
Everett watches her stumble slightly.
"Kepner's wasted," a familiar voice says in her ear. She turns her head towards him, actions slowed down by the alcohol coursing through her veins, eyes blinking slowly to try and focus on the sharp edges of his face. Karev really is lovely to look at. "That's a first."
"Yeah, well, lately she's been all about firsts." Jackson takes a sip of the tequila in his hand, frowning at the sight of April dancing on the table. Everett's head swings towards him, eyebrows furrowing together at his words. What could he mean by that?
Before the chorus can bring them all together, someone's phone starts to ring over their excited screeching, and the music is quickly cut to compensate for the person either receiving good or bad news. This isn't the first time this has happened tonight, and it certainly won't be the last.
"This is Dr Yang," Cristina says into her phone, black curls stuck to her sweaty forehead, eyes bleary with alcohol. They're all going to have headaches tomorrow morning for sure. As long as they're okay for their flight to Boise tomorrow. "Well, that does certainly give me a lot to think about. Thank you so much for calling." She clicks her phone off and turns to the crowd awaiting her news, grinning from ear to ear like some sort of fluffy pink cat ready to give them cryptic clues about their adventures. "Mayo wants to give me a research lab! Guess who's back in the running."
