PAGING DOCTOR STYLES 2

The Long Story - NARRY vs the marble man

HEY YALL

HEY YALL

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Dublin - Medical Conference

"Excuse me, sir." 

Harry paused and turned to the blonde man in front of him. Harry raised an eyebrow, the thing that caught his eyes were his clothes. He was ridiculously dressed. A medical scrub with cartoon prints. A tiny stuff teddy bear on the breast pocket of the dirty-looking lab jacket. What was he thinking. This was no place to dress like a buffoon. 

"Yes. How can I help you?" 

"Um, can I ask you about what you said earlier?" 

Harry nodded. He was too distracted by the man's weird fashion sense that he didn't even bother looking at his face. 

And those shoes. 

Really, those shoes. Just fucking throw them already. 

To makes matters worst, there was this awful slime green stain on the shoe. Harry kept his eyes glued to that spot, he could not focus at all at the conversation with that thing there. 

"When you said about hospitals really needing to invest the Davinci machine by this year. Do you really think that... that's reasonable?" 

Harry pursed his lips at the man. "Yes, I do. Its the future of medicine. May I know why the question?"  

The blonde man fumed. "I disagree on that. Because I don't work in... a top tier hospital, you see. We have real budget cuts. And like 2 million pounds will be a lot for us. Especially if we are to invest in a procedure that most of patients cannot afford, we have to really hike the prices of our services. And our patients can hardly afford most surgeries already-"

"And, why is that your problem. The hospital should facilitate this, not the doctors."

Harry crossed his arms at the blonde. "If you truly believe in helping people. There are many national programs to help hospitals... like yours. Just be resourceful." 

And Harry walked away. 

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"That idiot." 

Niall took another sip of his beer. "Who the fuck does he think he is? Skulking around like some film star. A hot shot cunt that's what he is. Telling people to buy some fucking 2 million pound machine. Idiot." 

Tom Fletcher laughed as he watched his best friend drink his poor mood away. 

For all the many years he'd known the Irishman, Niall hardly lets anyone effect his day. Even if the strong winds would blow an asshole in front of him, the man would somehow befriend said asshole and they would probably walk out as friends. Niall was  a strong Irishman. With a good head on his shoulders and an even kinder heart. And for a someone to effect him so badly to the point that he's drinking his worries away, someone was truly the asshole.