After the party ended, Heather gave Adam a private celebration.
Adam finally understood why Aricans love parties.
He liked them too.
In fact, he wouldn't mind having a dozen more celebrations like that.
The next day, Adam received a ssage from Leonard.
In a few days, there would be a prestigious gala in New York's dical community, and Leonard would be taking him as his guest.
Adam imdiately understood the significance of this.
With dical school applications and admissions approaching, networking was essential.
As one of the biggest events in New York's dical scene, the faculty from Columbia University's dical school would undoubtedly be in attendance.
So of these professors played a key role in the final stages of the admissions process.
Even after enrolling at Columbia, Adam would still have to interact with them.
Establishing good relationships now was crucial.
When Heather heard the news, she was thrilled for Adam and imdiately dragged him out shopping to prepare for the event.
---
### Manhattan
**Park Avenue**
West of here was Madison Avenue; to the east lay Lexington Avenue. Skyscrapers lined both sides, housing so of the most expensive real estate in the world. Wealthy tycoons and celebrities, including the likes of John D. Rockefeller Jr., called this area ho. It was the epito of affluence.
**Building No. 67**
Inside a luxurious duplex apartnt—
"Steven, co with
to a party on Friday night."
A stern-looking middle-aged man, dressed in a tailored suit with the assistance of his elegantly dressed wife, spoke to a young man sitting on the couch, engrossed in a book.
"Do I have to?"
The young man, Steven, put down his book and frowned slightly.
"Listen to your father," the woman reminded him. "This gala is a major event in New York's dical community. All the key figures will be there. I know you don't want to work for your father's pharmaceutical company, but even as a surgeon, networking is important. How else will you connect with patients?"
Steven was silent for a mont before nodding. "I understand."
"Make sure he's well-prepared."
The middle-aged man instructed his wife before heading toward the door.
"I will," she assured him, handing him his briefcase and seeing him off.
Once he was gone, she returned to sit beside her son.
"Steven, nothing in life cos easy. You may see your father as a serious man at ho, but when he started as a pharmaceutical sales rep, he had to smile so much his face nearly froze."
She smiled as she continued, "Even after all these years of hard work—after founding his own pharmaceutical company and achieving success—he still has to smile for the sake of business. Whether he wants to or not, there are monts when he has to."
Seeing that her son was listening intently, she added, "That's why he never pressured you to join the company. As a surgeon, if you're among the best, you can choose when to smile and when to be serious. You'll have far more freedom than he ever did. Since this is what you love, treasure it."
Steven adjusted his glasses and said firmly, "I will beco the best surgeon. One day, there will be a surgical technique nad after ."
"That's my son!" She bead. "Don't worry about Friday's event—almost everyone there is a friend of your father's…"
"Mom!"
Steven interrupted. "I don't need special treatnt. I can handle myself."
"Alright, alright, I won't say anything."
She chuckled, ruffling his hair affectionately. "You'll succeed on your own, just like your father did. Who knows? One day, he might even have to rely on you.
And you know how you always wanted to see your father smile at you—not his professional smile, but a real, heartfelt one?
If you achieve what you set out to do, that day will co."
For the first ti in a long while, a small smile appeared on Steven's otherwise serious face.
---
### Manhattan
**Prison Bar**
Spiraling tal railings encircled the crowded venue, and more people lined up outside, eager to get in. This was one of New York's hottest nightclubs.
"You all want poetry?"
A handso bartender stood atop the bar counter, whistling loudly to grab everyone's attention before shouting:
"Yes! We want poetry!"
The crowd roared back.
After all, people didn't co here just to drink overpriced cocktails; they ca for the wild atmosphere.
"I am the last poet bartender," the man proclaid dramatically. "I watch Arica drink my finely crafted cocktails, swaying until they fall into a drunken haze. The unspeakable on the beach, peach gin, silk hamr, Alabama Slamr!"
His words lacked rhythm or elegance, but his animated gestures and impassioned delivery had the crowd screaming in excitent. So even dubbed him a "sexy beast."
"I mix fruit juice and foamy liquor—Pink Squirrel, Three-Toed Sloth. My drinks are sweet and intoxicating—Long Island Iced Tea, Kamikaze… reaching the peak of pleasure!"
As he finished his declaration, the crowd erupted once more. So overly enthusiastic female patrons couldn't help but reach out to him.
The bar descended into chaos, with expensive drinks flying off the shelves like water.
After the frenzy died down, the bartender left with a stunning woman, thinking he had found true love.
But not long after, she dumped him for a doctor—one who wasn't even handso.
Heartbroken, he turned to his uncle for advice.
"Why?" he lanted. "Why did she leave
for him?"
His uncle scoffed. "Are you really that clueless? He's a doctor—a man with a bright future and high social status. You're just a bartender, working late nights, forcing smiles, and earning tips. If I were a woman, I'd choose him over you too."
Then, shaking his head, his uncle continued, "William, I told you after you graduated—you should've gone to dical school. It's the safest way to climb from the bottom to the middle class. But you wouldn't listen.
You thought you could bartend for quick cash, save up, and start your own business. But do you think starting a business is easy?
I've spent half my life building this tiny bar. Everyone calls
stingy because I never give out free drinks, but if I hadn't scrimped and worked my ass off, I never would have owned this place…"
"Doctors are respected and have bright futures. Bartenders are lowly and have no future…"
William couldn't hear anything else.
His mind replayed the image of his so-called "true love" leaving him for a doctor.
Muttering to himself, he suddenly stood up.
"I'm going to be a doctor."
**(End of Chapter)**
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