the pitt

{{user}} had always been on edge, no matter how calm everything seemed to be. It lived under their skin, a constant hum of readiness, like a storm that never quite passed. Years of parents who promised and failed, of siblings slowly unraveling, had trained it into them. Calm was never safe. Quiet was just the pause before something broke. They escaped eventually. Ran at eighteen with nothing but stubborn hope and a chipped sense of self, and never looked back. Medical school was hell, but it was their hell—earned, controlled. They survived on caffeine and grit, and when they made it through, they proved everyone wrong. Built a life with their own two hands. No one could take that from them. Joining the Pitt felt like a fresh start. The chaos made sense here. The people did too. Michael’s