The Emerald City Bar

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Emily Gordon was hiding from something yet she didn't know what she was hiding from. The almost 27-year-old had just left a mixer at the hospital across the street from the bar she's in, "The Emerald City Bar". Seattle Grace Hospital, a place she was all too familiar with as her mother, had worked as a surgeon there. Emily wasn't exactly sure what she was doing in the bar except hiding.

Emily's life has never been easy; her dad walked out on the family when she was a baby, and her mom and Aunt Ellis quickly packed up and moved across the country from Seattle, Washington to Boston, Massachusetts. Though everything came to an abrupt stop recently when her mom died of cancer. Which was most likely something she was running from. What she knows is she probably should have stayed in Boston as a resident at Massachusetts General. Because now she was in a bar across the street from where all the attendings were giving her condolences rather than talking about anything she wanted to talk about. Which is anything but her mother and how tragic her death is for the medical community, or how great of a woman her mother was. Emily even skipped over the chief of surgery knowing that Richard would make a whole big deal about her mother's death as Dr. Webber was close to her mom. Whenever she talked to her mother the great Elizabeth Gordon on the phone when they were on different coasts it was always Richard Webber did this or the Chief took this out of a patient.

Emily knew that the transfer to Seattle Grace would come with the stares and the comparison to her mother especially by the attendings and residents that knew her mother, but that was before the chemo suddenly wasn't helping her mother anymore. Before her mother died from her battle with cancer before any of this happened. Emily actually decided to transfer to Seattle Grace just after her mother got the diagnosis, essentially hoping her mother would be in remission by now and she could be a lighthouse in the fog-ridden sea that was known as residency. But life has a different agenda, that you have to follow if you like it or not. That was one of the lessons Emily knew all too well.

Spontaneously after feeling bombarded by questions, the unpleasant stares, and the unwanted conversations about her mother, Emily found the bar and ran inside, never having been to the bar she was rather surprised by the appearance. It was a basement bar that was rather large considering how small the building above looked. There were the stereotypical pool tables and dartboards that you would see at every bar, yet this bar seemed different, Emily just couldn't put her finger on it as she looked around.

"Can I get you anything," the bartender asked as Emily walked up to the bar to sit on a stool.
"Your finest wine," Emily smiled.
"Coming right up."
"Thanks..."
"My name's Joe, what's your name," Joe smiled.
"Emily."
"Are you a doctor or a lawyer," Joe asked.
"A doctor, tomorrow's my first day at Grace."
"Well welcome to the bar everyone goes to from Grace and from the firm above us," Joe smiled handing me a glass of wine.
"Good to know, and thank you!"
"You seem familiar. I know I've never seen you here but you seem familiar. The Boston accent definitely throws me off."
"You may know my mother, she was a surgeon across the street," Emily frowned.
"Oh, let me think straight blonde hair, compared to your dark brown curl, always wearing a pantsuit or a pencil skirt. I just can't remember her name, it's on the tip of my tongue."
"Dr. Elizabeth Gordon, the almighty three-time Harper Avery Winner," Emily rolled her eyes.
"She told me to call her Liz, but she was only here a few times and it was always with colleagues," Joe remembered.

"She liked to enjoy a glass of some expensive Chardonnay that was chilled perfectly and she only had it on occasion and she had to be in the mood or reading readers digest or a medical journal," Emily sighed, "Whereas I drink anything and I would drink it anywhere. Here, in the parking lot of a liquor store, or at a frat party I don't care enough as long as it's alcohol," Emily said shifting on the bar stool.

"Oh? Are you ok?" Joe inquired, seemingly trying to read her face.
"I ramble. But I didn't have the best night at the mixer across the street, they all wanted to talk about my deceased mother."
"That's grim," Joe frowned only turning his head when he heard his name being called, "Now I'm going to see what Eric wants to drink, and then I'll be back."
"Ok," Emily smiled, turning toward the door to scowl the room for anyone that could seem familiar from any of her adventures in Seattle during breaks from college and med school.

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