Share
MidReal Story
The Dentist's Seatbelt
Scenario:Dental seat belt
Create my version of this story
Dr. Emma Taylor
caring, and humorous. Emma struggles with her feelings for her best friend, Jake, while navigating her career and personal life. She is known for her quirky humor and ability to make patients feel at ease. Despite her insecurities, she is confident in her professional abilities and strives to maintain a balance between work and personal relationships.
Dr. Mark Stevens
ambitious, and slightly arrogant. Mark challenges Emma's traditional approach to dentistry by introducing modern techniques and technology to attract patients away from her practice.
Jake Thompson
loyal, and protective. Jake has always been there for Emma, offering support and comfort whenever she needs it. He harbors unspoken feelings for Emma but fears jeopardizing their friendship by revealing them. His dedication to his job and his friendship with Emma make him a reliable presence in her life.
"Put on your dental seat belt."
I say this at least ten times a day.
The irony isn’t lost on me, but I’m a dentist—not a comedian.
Although I like to think I’m funny.
My patients seem to think so too.
Maybe it’s because I’m a fish out of water in a small pond.
I’ve lived in the same town my entire life.
I know everyone—and everyone knows me.
It’s comfortable…and suffocating.
"Blair, Blair, Blair, Blair, Blair, Blair, Blair."
The song is stuck in my head.
It’s not as bad as the time I got “Who Let the Dogs Out" stuck for three days straight.
I can’t wait until someone says something to trigger its replacement.
I finish up with my last patient of the day and walk into the reception area to lock the front door.
"Hey, Emma. You have a package on your desk."
My receptionist, Rachel, waves goodbye as she leaves for the night.
I return the gesture and pick up the package on my desk.
It’s light as air and has no return address on it.
I rip it open and find a hot pink vibrator inside.
A note is attached that reads, "You’re single and it’s time to get laid."
I stare at the drawer of my desk, my heart pounding against my ribs.
The pink silicone edge still peeks out from beneath a stack of patient files.
Lily must be behind this.
She’s been pestering me for months about my non-existent love life.
I grab my phone to text her a stern message when there’s a knock on my office door.
"Come in."
Jake’s familiar silhouette appears through the frosted glass.
I slam the drawer shut with more force than necessary, causing my coffee mug to rattle against the desk.
"Just a minute!"
I call out, my voice higher than usual.
Jake steps inside, his eyes immediately catching the pink hue peeking from the drawer.
"Emma, is that what I think it is?" he asks with a teasing grin.
I roll my eyes, trying to play it cool. "It's not what it looks like, Jake. And before you say anything, Lily's behind this."
I ramble on, trying to explain the situation, but I'm not sure if I'm making it better or worse.
Jake leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches me with amusement.
His firefighter uniform is slightly wrinkled from a long shift, and that knowing smirk is back in full force.
It's a look I've grown accustomed to over the years, one that both annoys and delights me.
"Okay, well, I was thinking about doing a Disney-themed kids' dental education program at the office. You know, like how they do character meet-and-greets at the parks. I could dress up as Elsa from Frozen."
I try to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Jake raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying my attempt to divert attention away from the pink vibrator.
"That sounds fun," he says dryly.
"But back to the topic at hand..."
He walks over to my desk and picks up the discarded note from where I tossed it.
"'You’re single and it’s time to get laid,'" he reads in an exaggerated voice.
I snatch the paper from his hands, accidentally tearing it in the process.
"Jake, seriously, it's just Lily being Lily," I insist, trying to sound nonchalant.
He chuckles, leaning closer. "Well, maybe she's onto something, Emma."
I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms defensively. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Jake shrugs.
"Just that you're due for a little excitement in your life. Maybe it's time to take a chance."
I shake my head, dismissing his suggestion.
"Whatever. Let's talk about the program I'm working on instead."
I pull out my laptop and click through to the presentation I've been working on.
Jake walks over to the chair beside my desk, settling into it as I turn the screen toward him.
My cartoon creation appears on screen: Elsa, but not just any Elsa.
She's pink-tinted, with hot pink streaks in her hair.
She's wearing a matching hot pink cape, and her powers are being used to fight tooth decay.
Jake chuckles at the sight.
"You know she doesn't have pink hair in the movie, right?"
I roll my eyes at him.
"I took some artistic liberties."
He nods thoughtfully, studying the image.
"Well, it's definitely eye-catching. And I guess the color matches your new toy."
He gestures to the drawer where the vibrator is hiding.
I knock over my coffee mug in my haste to grab a stack of papers and hide it from view.
Liquid seeps across the desk, perilously close to my laptop.
Jake jumps into action, grabbing a stack of paper towels and blotting up the spill before it reaches my electronics. "You really like pink things," he jokes, handing me a paper towel to dry off my desk.
I glare at him, but he just shrugs innocently.
"I'm just saying."
I grab a stack of paper towels and begin mopping up the spill, trying to ignore him.
He watches me for a minute before reaching out to help.
As I toss a wad of soggy paper towels in the trash, he picks up a fish-shaped stress ball that had been sitting on the edge of my desk.
It's a gag gift from a dental supply company, meant to represent a "catch" in the dental field.
I hadn't noticed it was within his reach.
The bright red rubber fish sails through the air, and I catch it reflexively with one hand.
He grins at me as I squeeze the fish between my fingers.
"You seem like you could use a little stress relief, Emma."
I throw the fish back at him, not realizing how hard I've launched it until it hits him square in the chest.
The soft thud is followed by a faint reddish mark on his white uniform shirt.
Jake's playful expression falters, replaced by one of surprise.
He rubs his fingers over the mark, and for a moment we just stare at each other.
The tension in the room is palpable.
I can't decide if I feel more guilty for throwing the fish or angry that he's pushing my buttons.
Before I can say anything, my office phone rings, breaking the silence.
I grab it quickly, grateful for the distraction.
"Dr. Taylor's office. Emma speaking."
The voice on the other end of the line is familiar, even though she doesn't identify herself by name.
It's the same woman from the local police station who always requests dental records when they're investigating a case.
"Dr. Taylor, this is Karen from the station. I need you to send over some dental records for us. We're working on an ID for a Jane Doe."
"Of course, Karen," I say, reaching for a pen to jot down the details.
"It sounds urgent. What's the case number?"
Karen gives me the necessary information before hanging up to let me work on finding the records.
I head to my filing cabinet, but as I reach out to open it, a hand covers mine.
Jake's face is inches from mine as he whispers in my ear.
"I'm sorry for pushing your buttons, Em. But I'm not sorry for getting your attention."
My body heats up at his proximity, but I force myself to focus on what I need to do. "I'm busy right now," I mumble, trying to sidestep him so I can open the filing cabinet door.
He steps in front of me, blocking my path.
The phone on my desk starts ringing again as he gently grabs my wrist.
"Just hear me out," he says softly.
I'm frozen in place, caught between wanting to pull away and wanting him to get closer.
"Emma, I think it's time we stop pretending."
His words hang in the air, and I'm not sure what he means.
The room seems smaller than it did a minute ago, the evening light casting long shadows across his face.
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as he takes a step closer, but before he can say anything else, there's a sharp knock on my office door.
We both jump apart, releasing our grip on each other.
I smooth my hair nervously as I make my way to the door.
I'm not expecting any patients this late in the day, so I'm surprised to see Dr. Mark Stevens standing there when I open it.
He's holding up a bright red flyer with a crown-shaped membership card attached to it.
"Hey, Emma," he says, flashing me his signature smile.
"I hope you don't mind me stopping by unannounced. I wanted to let you know about my new dental loyalty program."
I take the flyer from him, clutching it tightly in my hand as I glance at Jake over his shoulder.
Jake's jaw is tight, and his eyes are narrowed at Mark. "It's called the Red Queen," Mark explains.
"I'm offering special perks for patients who sign up for the program. It's a great way for them to get discounts on services and products while supporting local dentists like us."
I nod politely.
"Thanks for letting me know. I'll look into it."
Mark nods back at me, his eyes flicking to Jake again before he turns to leave.
"Have a good evening," he calls over his shoulder as he walks out of my office.
I shut the door behind him and turn back to Jake.
He looks like he's about to explode with anger.
"Are you going to join his stupid program?"
He spits out the words, glaring at me.
I shake my head, still clutching the flyer tightly in my hand.
"No, of course not. But—"
"—I need to know why you're so worked up about it," I say, searching his eyes for answers.
Jake takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.
"Because, Emma, I don't trust him, and I can't stand the thought of him trying to weasel his way into your life."
I'm about to respond when a loud alarm blares through Jake's radio.
He looks down at it, his expression instantly shifting from one of vulnerability to one of professionalism.
"Station 12 responding," he says into the radio, his voice firm and authoritative.
I can't make out what the dispatcher is saying through the static, but Jake nods as if he's heard.
He takes a step back from me, already reaching for the door handle.
"Miller's Hardware downtown. Smoke coming from the roof."
He pauses at my office door, his hand gripping the frame tightly.
"We're not done here," he says firmly, then rushes out.
I follow him down the hallway and out into the parking lot behind my office building.
Jake sprints across the asphalt to his truck, which is parked haphazardly near my car.
I pace back and forth in my office, replaying the conversation with Jake in my head as I organize patient files.
I'm not sure what to make of his words about Mark, but I know I need to focus on my work.
I've got a lot to do before the end of the day, and I can't let Jake's drama get in the way.
As I work, I glance out my window every so often.
The parking lot is empty except for a few cars, and the sun is starting to set behind the trees.
I'm about to turn back to my desk when I see a figure walking across the asphalt.
It's Mark, but he's not alone.
He's wearing scuba gear and carrying a large bag full of diving equipment.
I frown, wondering what he's doing here at this time of day.
He walks across the parking lot, his flippers squeaking on the pavement.
As he approaches my building, I realize that he's heading straight for my office door. I grab my phone quickly, snapping a picture of him through the window.
I'm not sure why, but something about this feels off.
Maybe it has something to do with his "Red Queen" program?
I'm still trying to make sense of it when Mark stops in front of my door and looks around nervously.
He glances up at my window, and for a moment our eyes meet.
Then he turns and walks away again, disappearing around the corner of the building.
I stare after him, wondering where he's going.
The community pool is right next door to my office building, but it's closed this time of year.
Could he be using it for some kind of dive training?
I debate following him to find out more, but something about this feels off.
Instead, I look down at the picture on my phone screen.
Mark's scuba gear looks strange somehow—almost medical?
I realize I need to find out what Mark is really up to before it's too late.
I grab my keys and phone, shoving them into my purse as I hurry out of my office.
I lock the door behind me, slipping out the back door to avoid being seen.
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the parking lot as I trail Mark's wetsuit-clad figure from about fifty feet behind.
He keeps looking over his shoulder, so I have to duck behind parked cars and trees to avoid being seen.
Eventually, he reaches the chain-link fence that surrounds the community pool.
I watch as he produces a set of keys from his bag and unlocks the maintenance gate.
My heart pounds in my chest as I edge closer, crouching behind a dumpster near the pool's equipment room.
The smell of chlorine is strong here, and I can hear the distant hum of machinery.
Mark disappears into the equipment room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
I take a deep breath and decide to follow him inside.
I creep across the damp concrete, my shoes squeaking with each step.
The smell of chemicals is even stronger here, and I can hear the sound of machinery humming from inside the equipment room.
I slip through the open door, ducking behind a stack of rusty pool filters.
The room is dimly lit, with cobwebs hanging from the rafters.
There are maintenance hoses tangled on the floor, and a few scuba tanks leaning against the wall.
Mark's scuba gear is lying on the floor next to a metal grate that I've never noticed before.
I crouch down next to it, running my fingers along the edge.
There are scratch marks here where it's been moved back and forth repeatedly.
My heart pounds in my chest as I grip the edge of the grate and pull it back.
It scrapes against the concrete floor, revealing a dark passage that leads down beneath the pool.
Stale air wafts up from below, carrying a faint medicinal scent that I don't recognize. I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight app, shining it down into the passage.
The light reveals a narrow staircase descending into the unknown, and I realize there's no turning back now.