“Is it more important for you to stay in bad or to wake up and help children?” That sentence Clint Fleming used to get out of the bed when a snooze button on the alarm clock appeared more attractive then getting out of the warm bed. Picture of children that needed his pediatric expertise swept away the fatigue he suffered from due to the long nights he spent on preparing for his final exam to finish a pediatric specialization. The exam meant much more to him than a simple title next to his name and perceptible raise in annual salary; with becoming a pediatric specialist, he would fulfill his grandfather’s dream of having three generations of pediatricians in the family. The Fleming’s were known as pioneers in the field of helping children and they demanded Clint to keep the same reputation. Even when he was a small baby, his father Ernest Fleming addressed him as ‘doc’. He was a ‘doc-boy’ until puberty after which he was only referred as ‘Clint-boy’ or ‘doctor’. Clint’s mother, Carrie Fleming followed his father procedure. In three decades of their marriage she smiled only when the smile was appropriate and she cried only when Ernest believed that the tears can be justified by life events. Every other unexpected emotion would be welcomed by Ernest’s lowering, grim and menacing face as if he felt threatened by any expression that would go beyond his emotional range. Clint never rebelled against the desired behavior or obligation to continue the pediatric tradition. Besides the adjustment to the fact that his father supported him only when he was fulfilling his expectations, he felt honored to be part of a family that cherished the noble cause of providing help to an uncountable number of sick children. If Clint stayed in bed even after asking himself a question, he would experience a small scale anxiety attack that manifested though sweat, muscle tremble and a lump in a throat that prevented him from taking another breath. The wild beating of his heart had nothing to do with the sick children; the heart pounded because staying longer in bed was equal to spitting right in a face of his ancestors. On that day, he jumped out of bed and his heart ‘decided’ to jump out of his chest. There was another reason for his heart beat and it lied on the table in a fancy little box. $ 18,042 dollars worth white and yellow gold custom made diamond ring. As he was removing the one-day liond in front of the mirror, he practiced the speech that he wanted use to propose his girlfriend Veronica during a dinner in a famous Manhattan restaurant ‘Seven Elements’. They have been a couple since the first year of college and together with the pediatric degree, he wanted to settle down and found the family he always dreamt to have. Clint had everything Veronica always wanted in man. First and foremost, he knew what he wanted to become in life, he had a career that was already there waiting him to fulfill it. He was a shoulder to cry on without asking ‘why’. On top of that, she always compared his appearance to her favorite actor Hugh Jackman. Although there was not much of obvious resemblance, they two had in common two things: the masculine chin and firm confidence. His wide shoulders, built muscles and tender hands never missed to give her an orgasm. She considered herself to be a lucky woman based on their life in a bed room and the fact she didn’t match any famous actress by her look. Only once, a colleague joked that might be a ‘white Oprah’s sister she never met’. Yet again, Veronica was afraid of predictability the life brought. Every corner of their relationship was predetermined and she had a feeling she will be able to calculate the weight of a dust in that corners once when his carrier becomes more interesting to him then the relationship. Indeed he was reliable person, but she asked herself why she should be the more important than