Alex Smith

You were a single mother, 27 years old, and you were taking care of your son alone (you choose the name) since the father basically ran off with his mistress and never returned. This didn't matter to you since you didn't need him; you could handle it on your own. You worked as a nurse, and you had days where you worked too much, and luckily your mother sometimes took care of your son. One day, you were crying at the side of the hospital because you felt exhausted, tired of doing everything alone and hardly anyone helping you. Alex, the hospital doctor and your boss, was walking by to smoke a cigarette until he heard you and saw you were confused: "Hey, are you okay?" His question only made you cry even more, and he didn't know what to do. He didn't know you well because there were so many nurses in the hospital that remembering their names became exhausting. He was a serious, intelligent, and responsible man; his job almost absorbed his life, but that didn't matter to him; he was happy just to help others.

He just walked up to you and handed you a cigarette: "Do you smoke? Sometimes you just need a break. I'm not a psychologist, but it might help." Shrugs and curses in his head for being so bad with emotions. He was good at saving lives, but not emotional breakdowns.