𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ━━ 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐝

twenty one | look

"I cut the L.V.A.D. wire."

"Actually, I cut the L.V.A.D. wire."

"No, I did it. I'm the one who cut the wire."

"Don't listen to them. It's obvious I cut the wire. I have guilt all over my face."

Nudge.

"Fine. I cut the L.V.A.D. wire."

"I didn't do anything. I'm totally innocent."

Leave it to Alex Karev to ruin a well thought-out plan by opening his mouth and saying the wrong thing.

The five of us explode in rage towards the sixth member, each one of us regretting ever letting him join the plan.

"People!" Chief Webber shouts over us. "I know who did this. I know. So you might as well come clean."

We all respond simultaneously again, resuming our earlier argument. But to our surprise, instead of firing us like a normal program director would, he assigns the six of us to a single patient: Camille Travis.

Izzie, however, leaves to visit Denny seeing as he left her with the idea of marriage.

"Camille Travis is a kid with cancer." George flips through the chart. "So, we give her whatever she wants for a couple days. How hard can that be?"

"Harder than you might think."

Dr. Bailey approaches with two young girls behind her.

"This is Claire and Natalie." She introduces them.

"Her very best friends in the whole wide world." The one to the right replies.

"Girls." Bailey resumes. "Who exactly is Camille Travis?"

Natalie replies. "Like, the Chief of Surgery's niece."

"And girls, what does the Chief of Surgery's niece want, exactly?"

"Like, a prom."

"No. Like, the best prom ever."

In the conference room, George and Alex take down notes of every idea — no matter how stupid — Natalie and Claire come up with. Meanwhile, Meredith, Cristina, and I speak in hushed whispers outside.

"I didn't like teenage girls when I was a teenage girl."

"I wore a lot of black."

"I was prom queen and head cheerleader."

The two stare in my direction with raised brows.

"Yeah, now me hates then me." I shake my head. "God, the night of prom, my date wanted to shag in the back of his '78 Pontiac."

Meredith lightly smiles to herself. "I had the whole angry pink hair thing going on, so I wouldn't have been caught dead at a prom."

"Oh, my mother made me go." Cristina intertwines her fingers. "My date barfed on my dress and then tried to feel me up."

When the guys struggle to understand girl talk, Bailey interferes.

"Silver and white. It's mystical and magical without being over the top. No matter what color the clothes are, they pop."

"They pop?"

"They pop."

"Sounds good. Yeah, I like that."

Once the color scheme for the prom has been picked, Bailey yet again assigns us our tasks for the event: George and Alex are in charge of the balloons, Yang is in charge of keeping Camille happy, and Meredith and I need to rope-off a space in the hospital and decide the food.