Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

Writing this chapter, I remembered several comments emphasizing the 'plot hole' that the MC does not question his second chance. From before I began writing the novel, I had planned for it to be a process of blind acceptance, not a divine gift, not ROB, nothing—just something that happened.

From the beginning, I planned that all the growth outside the academic world of the character would occur in his second chance. Let me explain:

In the first chapter of the novel, I tried to make it clear that the protagonist has/had absolutely no social skills because he focused his entire life on studying medicine. Since he has no memories of his second life as "PJ" prior to the transmigration, he would learn from 'zero'. That decision, looking back now, might have been quite hasty, but to be honest, I don't think I would change it.

I feel quite disgusted having to argue the following, because the idea of an adult man trying to relate interpersonally with minors would never, in real life, be acceptable under any circumstances. But (just writing that 'but' made me feel quite sick, like some Instagram pervert) the protagonist, being as inexperienced as he is, is basically a teenager with the knowledge (academic) and pain (emotional) of an adult man. By fully accepting his new opportunity in life, he only has the option to grow to be a 'real' adult man like a normal teenager.

I think the only thing, that differentiates my novel from that other 'group' of transmigration, isekai, etc., 'novels', where an adult transfers to the body of a teenager/child, is that my protagonist has no idea of how to 'take advantage' of his maturity in the social realm.

I look forward to reading your comments about it. Without further ado.

Enjoy.

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"So, three sets of keys for the VIP plus suite," when I arrived with my family, I heard the hotel manager, Mr. Mosby, say cheerfully. "If you need anything, calling zero is a direct line to the lobby. Again, we give you the warmest welcome to the Tipton Hotel," he added, bowing slightly before returning to his workstation.

"VIP plus?" With the keys in hand, Bob incredulously asked Dr. Thomas, who was there smiling happily.

"Oh, it's just any suite," Dr. Thomas affirmed, obviously lying. "Wilfred assured me there's no problem," he said, patting Bob on the shoulder.

"It sounds quite expensive; I don't want our stay to result in a significant loss, especially at this time of year," Bob nervously said, still shaking the keys in his hand.

"Not at all, the VIP plus is nowhere near the best this hotel has to offer. As I said, it's just any suite," Dr. Thomas affirmed once more, and for some reason, lied again. "Bob, I assure you that your stay at this hotel, even if you lived here for the rest of your lives for free, would not affect Wilfred Tipton's profits at all," he declared confidently.

"All right," Bob agreed after a moment of thinking about it, nodding stiffly.

"Perfect, then Duncan family, we'll see you in a couple of hours at Rosso's. We'll leave you to get comfortable," Dr. Thomas said, hugging Dottie, who was smiling happily.

After saying goodbye to the Thomases, we followed one of the hotel workers with a cart of our luggage up in one of the elevators to dozens of floors.

"VIP plus," the hotel worker said with a professional smile, carefully placing the luggage on the floor.

"Here you go, thank you very much," Bob said kindly, handing a bill to the man and dismissing him.

With our luggage in hand behind Bob, we waited for the man to open the door.

When Bob opened the suite door, he stood under the frame, seemingly unable to enter.

"Bob, honey, what's wrong?" Mom asked worriedly, as the man was robust enough to block the view of everyone standing behind him.

"This is not just any suite," Bob said nervously, finally entering the suite.

The place resembled the Thomas's house in a compact version; the decorations seen just in the living room of the apartment looked expensive enough to be afraid of walking near them.

"Cool, I call this room," Gabe said, unconcerned with any of the decorations, running with his luggage toward one of the bedrooms.

"Obviously, that's my room; Mom and Dad have the main one, and you and PJ have the double," Teddy said, following Gabe, trying to match his speed.

"If you fight with each other, you'll be punished for the two weeks," Mom said seriously, warning my two siblings.

"My head hurts," Bob said carefully, taking a seat on an impossibly clean sofa.

"Oh Bob, you heard Dottie and Dr. Thomas; it was a favor from the hotel owner, who is their personal friend. You don't have to worry about it. We're on vacation, enjoy it," Mom said lovingly, taking a seat next to her husband.

"Yeah Dad, it's a vacation; don't worry about this. You can even see it as Harvard recruiting," I joked, also taking a seat on the amazingly comfortable couch.

"Yeah," Bob said, chuckling. "Dr. Thomas really wants you to study with him."

"Really?" I asked, pretending to be surprised. "I hadn't realized."

"He just took a liking to you," Mom said, lightly tapping my shoulder and laughing. "It's sweet."

"I know," I assured Mom. "If it bothers you that much, Dad, we can pay for the stay," I seriously reminded the man. It wouldn't be a sound financial strategy; I still had several thousand dollars in my account outside my investment portfolio, but it could be paid for.

"Bah," Bob immediately dismissed my words, waving his hand erratically. "Don't start with that; that's your money, and you're going to spend it on college first."

"I'm sure I can pay for the two weeks in this hotel and still afford my college, Teddy's, Gabe's, and the next one's," I said, pointing to Mom's abdomen, amused.

"No," Bob calmly said, closing his eyes. "It's fine; I'll just thank for the gift."

"All right," Mom exclaimed cheerfully, standing up. "Let's organize our luggage so we can officially start this vacation," she continued, pulling Bob up to stand.

Bob, carrying Mom's and his own luggage, started walking behind his wife toward the main room of the suite. "We're on the East Coast; I need to look for the Gypsy Moth and the Longhorn Beetle," Bob said, forgetting his concern about the hotel's price and getting excited.

"That sounds amazing, honey," Mom said, not really paying attention to what Bob was saying. She stopped a few steps away from the room where Gabe and Teddy were arguing, apparently about the room itself. "Gabe, let your sister organize her room, and you organize yours with PJ."

"Mom," Gabe's frustrated voice was heard from the room where my siblings were arguing, while Teddy was mocking him.

"You heard me," Mom ordered, annoyed, with authority in her voice. "PJ, what kind of restaurant are we going to? Dr. Thomas didn't explain anything."

"It's where they took me last time, Rosso's. It's Italian and fancy," I explained.

"I see. Teddy! Did you bring a nice dress? We're going to a fancy restaurant," Mom shouted, immediately receiving an excited squeal from Teddy, who agreed right away. "Help your brother choose good clothes, please," Mom said to me with a smile, while walking to her own room and closing the door behind her.

"What is 'good clothes'?" I asked no one in particular, as I was alone again.

Taking my luggage, I entered the room Gabe and I would share for the rest of our days in Boston. Like the rest of the suite, it was elegant and spacious, even with a private bathroom. "I chose that bed," Gabe said from the spacious closet while carelessly arranging his clothes, pointing to the bed closest to the window.

"Fine by me," I assured the boy, placing my suitcase on the other bed to unpack comfortably. "Ah, use that shirt and some more formal pants," I said, seeing the clothes my brother was awkwardly trying to hang.

"What? Why?" Gabe asked, puzzled, looking at the garment.

"We're going to have dinner with the Thomases. Mom wants you to be formal, or she'll give you away to another family," I warned, jokingly. "Also, take a bath; you stink," I said, theatrically covering my nose.

Sniffing his armpits, Gabe frowned. "That's not true, you stink," he said. "If you go back to your girlfriend at the store, she'll vomit," he added condescendingly, smiling.

"Oh, really?" I asked, quickly grabbing the boy and hugging him under one of my arms to keep him from escaping. "Say it again, I didn't hear you well the first time," I playfully ordered, keeping his head under my armpit.

"No," Gabe exclaimed, trying to free himself from me.

"Come on, I won't let you go until you repeat it," I arrogantly said, lightly rubbing his head.

"Okay, you smell good. It was a joke, it was a joke," Gabe said desperately, pushing my torso as soon as his head was free. "One day I'll grow up, and you'll be the one under my arm," he threatened, frowning.

"No matter how much you grow, it's a universal law that you'll never beat me," I proclaimed theatrically, raising my arms as if I were a villain from the cartoons Gabe used to watch.

Gabe, starting before me and doing it carelessly, finished much earlier organizing his section of the closet. "Are you

still not done, old man?" Gabe sarcastically asked, coming out of the bathroom wrapped in his towel.

"Old man?" I asked, taking off my shirt while the boy just smirked. "Your head is still wet, kiddo," I said, throwing my freshly removed shirt at his head, amused to see him quickly remove the garment.

"Eww, gross," Gabe exclaimed, quickly throwing my shirt on the floor in disgust, shaking his still-wet hair.

"Get ready fast, I'm going to take a bath," I said, entering the bathroom, ignoring his incredulous expression.

Several minutes later, the rest of my family was ready to leave. "I like that shirt, you should wear it more often," Mom said, adjusting one of the sleeves while checking the outfit Gabe and I had chosen.

The shirt I was wearing was part of the clothes I had bought so many months ago at the Medford mall. Thanks to the constant exercise accompanied by the diet Case had planned for me, I could feel how it pressed against my arms and chest, fortunately not enough to be uncomfortable.

"I need to buy new clothes," I said, slightly stretching my arms and feeling the fabric resist a bit.

"Yes, now that you mention it, it's a bit tight," Mom said, stepping back a few steps and studying the shirt.

"That, or PJ just got bigger," Bob added playfully, squeezing my shoulder proudly.

"I think it looks good," Mom commented, forcibly fixing Gabe's hair, "Everyone, take your coats," she added, giving one last quick inspection to everyone before grabbing her own coat and walking out of the suite.

Back in the hotel lobby, Mom and Bob approached the reception to request transportation to Rosso's.

At that moment, from one of the hallways on the side of the hotel lobby, Maddie, the store clerk, now without her uniform, was carrying a backpack, once again distracted, this time reading a small notebook. "Hey, is it your time to leave?" I said, leaning slightly to get her attention.

Lifting her eyes from the notebook, completely surprised, she said, "Hi," quickly lowering her notebook again and smiling. "Ye- yeah, it's my time to leave," a couple of seconds after greeting me, apparently remembering my question, she finally responded, slightly embarrassed.

"Too bad, I was planning to buy more chocolate," I said playfully, smiling.

"For someone who buys so much chocolate, it sure looks like you don't eat it," she said sarcastically, pointing at my body.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms in front of my chest, pretending to be offended, "For your information, I think my favorite drink is chocolate milkshakes."

"Chocolate milkshakes, really?" Maddie asked, laughing in complete disbelief.

"What? They're great," I defended myself, this time genuinely a little offended.

"All right, they're great," Maddie admitted, still smiling and rolling her eyes. "You know, I know a great place that serves chocolate milkshakes not far from here," she said a moment later, avoiding looking at me, a bit nervous.

"That sounds pretty good," I said, making the girl immediately lift her head, "but I'm going to have dinner with my family. Maybe another day?" I added quickly.

"Oh yeah, that sounds pretty good," Maddie said, imitating my words from a moment ago, amused.

"PJ," at that moment, Mom, who was at the hotel door, shamelessly shouted, "the car is here," while the hotel manager, Mr. Mosby if I remembered correctly, helped her put on her coat.

Walking out of the hotel accompanied by Maddie, who was already leaving, I found Mom getting into a luxurious car, apparently owned by the hotel, with Bob's help. "So, see you later," I said slowly, smiling at the now strangely paralyzed Maddie, who was staring at the car.

"Oh, yeah sure," Maddie quickly regained her composure, nodding stiffly, "see you later," she added quickly, nodding before walking swiftly in the opposite direction.

"All right," I said to no one in particular, puzzled by the girl's sudden change in attitude.

"Allow me," the same bellboy who had received us when we arrived said, opening the door as I approached the car.

"Thanks, Esteban," I said, reading his name on a badge on his chest as I got into the car's back seat.

"Who was she?" Mom asked, pretending to be completely uninterested as soon as I got into the car.

"She's the store clerk from the hotel. She was reading a book when we arrived, and PJ flirted with her," Gabe responded immediately, smiling on Mom's lap before I could say anything.

"She's cute," Mom said approvingly. "Are you planning to go out with her somewhere?" she asked again, pretending not to care about the answer, causing a slight headache to resurface.

"Does the hotel have its own transportation service?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"The Tipton hotel's transportation is a special service for VIP guests," the driver, who had previously been having a conversation with Bob, responded kindly.

"So, what's her name?" Mom asked, ignoring the man's response, which would usually have been enough to get her attention.

The ride to the restaurant was full of questions to which I honestly had no answer. Even Teddy, who had apparently only brought a roll of film to the dinner and didn't want to waste it, asked her own questions.

"We've arrived, Duncan family," the driver, who had been talking with Bob about sports and recent city events throughout the ride, finally said, parking the car in front of the restaurant I had visited last time.

"Thanks, Marcus," Bob said, leaning out the open passenger window and offering the driver, Marcus, a bill as a tip.

"You're welcome, Mr. Duncan. Do you need me to wait outside the restaurant?" the man asked, gratefully accepting the bill.

"No need, we can take a taxi back. Thank you very much," Bob assured the driver, who nodded professionally, started the car once more, and drove off in the direction we came from. "I feel inadequate," Bob murmured sarcastically, shaking his shoulders.

I could understand what he meant; all the special treatment felt completely out of sync.

As we all entered the luxurious restaurant together, I could see in the expressions of the other members of my family, except for Gabe, what must have been my face the first time I entered the place. Yes, I understood completely.

"How about the Thomas table?" I hesitantly asked the same woman who had worked the day I visited the place with the Thomases behind the small counter in the restaurant's lobby.

"Oh, you must be the Duncans. Yes, the doctor and the doctor are waiting for you. This way, please," she said, once again picking up menus from her small counter and guiding us into the restaurant.

Mom, not counting Gabe, was the first in my family to snap out of the trance caused by the restaurant's decoration and presence. As was typical of my mother, she began to walk proudly, obviously excited to be in such a place.

"Duncan family," when we approached one of the tables near one of the restaurant's walls, long enough to accommodate all of us, Dr. Thomas, who was with Dottie, stood up excitedly, opening his arms.

"Come here, sweetheart," Dottie immediately took my sister's arm carefully and sat her next to her after greeting everyone, immediately engaging in a conversation with Teddy.

"So, have you heard anything from any universities since the article was published?" Dr. Thomas asked, incredibly in the same tone Mom used for her 'disinterested' questions while reading one of the menus.

"Oh, just from East Texas Tech," Mom responded without finding anything strange in Dr. Thomas's question, causing the man to cough suddenly.

"They basically invited PJ as a visiting student. He has all the privileges but isn't formally in any program," Bob explained, understanding Dr. Thomas's interest.

"Oh, I see," Dr. Thomas said cheerfully, "if you lived here in Boston, PJ would have the same treatment at Harvard," he insinuated, clasping his hands in front of his face, immediately receiving a punch on the shoulder from Dottie.

"Stop pestering PJ," the older woman scolded him seriously. "You're not a recruiter," she reminded him as if they had already discussed it, making Dr. Thomas lower his head slightly, embarrassed.

"It's okay, we understand perfectly," Mom said, amused, assuring Dottie, "Dr. Thomas is just looking out for PJ's future."

"You see, honey, they understand," Dr. Thomas said playfully, smiling arrogantly at his wife, an action for which he earned another weak punch on the shoulder.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" suddenly, from behind us, the voice I immediately recognized as the restaurant owner's resounded loudly in the place, "PJ," Alessandro said joyfully, approaching our table with open arms.

Seeing the robust restaurant owner approaching, I could only prepare for what was about to happen as I stood up to greet the noisy man.

"Welcome back to my humble restaurant," the excited man said, squeezing my shoulders tightly and pressing his lips twice on the sides of my face. "Who are these people?" he asked cheerfully, patting my shoulder.

"This is my family," I said, looking at my family's incredulous faces, Gabe's in particular. "My father, Bob Duncan, my mom, Amy, and my siblings, Teddy and Gabe," I said, pointing to each member.

"Oh, the Duncan family, of course. Come here," he said, repeating the extravagant greeting with Bob, tousling Gabe's hair, while with Mom and Teddy, he simply kissed the back of their hands, an action Mom obviously accepted, flattered.

After his extravagant introduction to the rest of my family, Alessandro, being the complete extrovert he was, chatted briefly with Mom and Bob, mainly about my actions during my last visit and the article published in the newspaper.

"Absolutely a hero, it's no surprise at all that he's recognized," the restaurant owner exclaimed joyfully, seemingly unable to control the volume of his voice, drawing even more attention from the other customers.

"That's our PJ for you," Mom said proudly, matching the man's energy.

"To celebrate my friend PJ's rise to fame, the bill will be on the house," Alessandro declared nonchalantly, patting my shoulder. "Order whatever you want, it's all on the house," he continued, shaking Bob's hand again. "I have to leave, but don't hesitate to call if you need anything," he added, bidding everyone farewell before leaving.

Fame? I wasn't famous.

"For the second time in a single month, PJ is treating us to dinner," Dr. Thomas said, amused.

The dinner continued, and like last time, the food was absolutely delicious.

After bidding farewell to Alessandro and thanking him for the meal, we left the restaurant.

Teddy, who seemed to have grown fond of Dottie, who clearly shared the sentiment with my sister, was happily chatting with the older woman about her life.

Gabe, who had brought his little video game console, was still playing, completely absorbed in the machine, being guided by Bob who simply moved the child's head to prevent him from bumping into anything on the way.

Mom was exhausted and understandably so, walking alongside Bob, using him for support.

"You have something on your mind," Dr. Thomas, who was behind the main group, calmly stated.

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

"When I asked you how things were with Gregory, you had difficulty responding," he explained, his hands in his pockets, looking at the now dark street.

"It's fine, really," I unintentionally sighed for a second as I replied.

"You know, from the moment I decided you would be one of my 'protégés,' I knew I would do anything to help you become a better you," he admitted slowly, smiling at the interaction between my sister and his wife. "And part of that is listening to you, and if my experience helps, advising you. I'm a very old man; I have a lot of experience. Take advantage of it," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm afraid I made a bad decision in the care of a patient," I said after a deep sigh, prompting Dr. Thomas to nod slightly, silently inviting me to elaborate.

Giving Dr. Thomas a quick summary of Sister Augustine's case, I explained my decision to attack the woman's feelings and beliefs to get the truth.

"So, basically, you're afraid of becoming Gregory," he said with a smile after I finished explaining.

"Well, yeah," thinking it over, that was essentially correct.

"Go ahead, PJ and I are going to talk a bit; we'll catch a taxi to the hotel," Dr. Thomas said to the rest of the group, as the valet had already brought the Thomases' car around to take us to the hotel.

With some doubt on their faces, my parents got into the Thomases' car a moment before it departed towards the hotel.

"Let's walk a bit, PJ. I'm old but I can still move my legs," he said sarcastically, winking as he walked through the beautifully decorated streets of Boston.

"When Gregory was my student," Dr. Thomas finally said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "he had a problem similar to yours, but completely opposite," he added, amused.

"Yes, I can imagine," I nodded, amused.

"Gregory House, like you, was a prodigy in medicine. He understood it, and still does, like no one else I've ever seen—at least until a couple of months ago when I received your letter," Dr. Thomas said, smiling emotionally.

"It's just book knowledge," I said, a bit embarrassed by his words.

"I'm not talking about that, no. Your research work was impeccable, yes, but in every letter, I could read someone in love with medicine, eager to learn, and willing to fail while trying. That, that is understanding medicine," he said, pointing at me with a wide smile.

After his words, we walked in silence for several seconds.

"Gregory, with his incredible ability to understand medicine, forgot another essential part of being a doctor: human emotion," he continued theatrically. "He saw every patient as a list of consequences and symptoms to treat, and it reached a point where it was counterproductive for him, so he decided to change his approach. He no longer focused solely on the hard data representing the patient. He understood that certain emotions also affected the outcome of a diagnosis: anger, shame, sadness, and above all, fear. As with everything in medicine, he understood it almost immediately and discovered that all these emotions, in one way or another, always lead to the same thing," he said, raising a finger.

"Lies," I said, understanding where Dr. Thomas was going with his narrative.

"Lies," Dr. Thomas nodded, repeating. "Since then, his method has worked. 'Everybody lies,' he told me when he solved a difficult case we were dealing with," Dr. Thomas said, smiling sadly, surely reminiscing. "At that moment, I told him something that I'm going to tell you," he added cryptically, stopping for a moment.

Stopping next to him, I seriously waited for his words.

"Mark Twain once said that the two most important days in a person's life are the day they are born and the day they find out why," he said seriously. "You, PJ, have already gone through those two days," pointing at my chest, he affirmed. "You know you were born to be a doctor. Now, how will you build your life to reach that point?" he said, starting to walk again.

"Did you tell House this?" I asked after a few minutes, finally processing Dr. Thomas's words.

"There's more, but now what I'm going to tell you will be different. Back then, I was wrong," he said, smiling proudly.

"Wrong?" I asked, puzzled, not by the idea of the doctor admitting he was wrong, but by how proud he was to say it.

"I told you, older, more experienced," Dr. Thomas explained arrogantly, smiling. "What builds us throughout life are the decisions we make, and we must be absolutely sure to make those decisions before making them, or we might regret it. That's what I told Gregory. Now I know it was incomplete."

After passing a group of buildings, we came across a park. Taking advantage of a bench, Dr. Thomas sat down, seemingly a bit tired from walking.

A few seconds after sitting down, small snowflakes began to fall from the sky. "What builds us throughout life are the decisions we make," he said, nodding confidently, "but above all, the reasons we make them. Maybe you made a 'bad' decision in hurting your patient," he said with apparent indifference, "but at the end of the day, the reason you made that decision in your heart was entirely for your patient's well-being."

As more snow fell, painting the park white, I could feel my eyes slightly welling up with tears.

"You will always encounter difficult decisions in our line of work," he continued, leaning back on the bench, avoiding looking at my face, obviously trying to give me space. "But if you make those decisions with a good reason in your heart, you don't have to question whether what you did was right or wrong. It was simply a decision."

We spent several moments sitting in the snow on the park bench. "My butt is freezing," Dr. Thomas suddenly joked, taking me by surprise and making me laugh uncontrollably. "Bah, you laugh but it's true. Help me up, I'm old," he said, pretending to be annoyed, laughing with me.

"Thank you, doctor," I said after helping him to his feet as we continued walking through the park that I now recognized. We had walked all the way from the restaurant to the park in front of the hotel.

"I told you, you're my protégé," Dr. Thomas said, puffing out his chest with pride. "By the way, you still have to be absolutely sure before making any decision. Reason and logic are the only things that separate us from animals. Use them."

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Author Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

I hope you don't think PJ's moral dilemma in making difficult decisions is solved. I have many more things planned that will test the character, so stay tuned.

With that said,

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thank you for reading! :D

PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.