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Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

After spending his entire life tirelessly dedicated to medicine, our protagonist dies with the deep regret of never having fulfilled his dream of becoming a doctor and, above all, not having enjoyed his life. However, fate grants him a second chance by transmigrating his soul into the body of PJ Duncan, a teenager who has just moved with his family to a small town in Texas. In his new home, PJ finds himself surrounded by unique characters who will change his life forever. Among them is Sheldon Cooper, the genius son of the neighbors, whose intellect defies everyday logic. Additionally, PJ meets the enigmatic and brilliant Dr. Gregory House, a doctor whose unconventional skills and methods inspire him to pursue his old dream. In this new life, PJ must not only adapt to his environment and understand the dynamics of the Duncan family but also face the challenges of adolescence while trying to make the most of this second opportunity. With his previous knowledge and new friendships, PJ has the chance to rediscover the meaning of living fully and, perhaps, finally become the doctor he always wanted to be. (I am not the owner of any show, credits to their respective creators/writers)

Maximus_Quill · TV
Zu wenig Bewertungen
86 Chs

Chapter 33

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" Bob shouted, obviously annoyed.

"I bet all my saved money on Mike Tyson's fight," I quickly repeated in response to the impressively upset man's question.

"Silence!" Bob shouted again, raising his hand in front of his face. "I heard you the first time," he continued, taking a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm himself.

"Sorry, I thought you-" I was explaining, but again, Bob stood up from the chair, "QUIET!" he interrupted, completely furious, his face turning slightly red and trembling.

Walking around in circles with his hands on his head, Bob shook his head, "I can't believe it," he ironically affirmed, "out of all the stupid things you could have done," he said without looking at me, "betting your savings."

"I also bet the thousand dollars you gave me," I said without thinking, immediately regretting it.

"WHAT?" Bob stopped his agitated pacing again, completely incredulous, shouting loudly.

Teddy's closed door opened quickly, revealing the intrigued teenager amidst all the shouting.

Stopping Teddy with a simple gesture before she could step out of her room, Bob ordered, showing false calmness, "I'm discussing things with your brother, turn up your music," making Teddy nod quickly as she went back into her room.

A few seconds later, music started playing from the room where the three teenagers were, surely intrigued by what was happening outside.

"I thought you were much more responsible," disappointed Bob said while still standing, leaning against the back of the chair. "I let myself be blinded by your grades and all the good things your teachers say about you," he said, seeming ashamed. "You're in so much trouble," angrily shaking his head, Bob affirmed seriously, staring at me intensely. "One week, NO, one month," he decreed, squeezing his hand and chin.

"Dad-" I tried to stop him to explain, but he interrupted me again, raising his hand quickly.

"You won't have a car until you pay back every cent of the thousand dollars I stupidly lent you, and then you'll have to work on your own to afford one, if at that point I think you deserve a car," the man declared, straightening up on his still furious feet while shaking his head slightly, never breaking eye contact. "A bet to win a few dollars," he scoffed sarcastically with obvious disappointment.

"Actually, it was fifty-six to one," I felt the need to defend myself quickly.

Again, immediately regretting my stupid decision to speak without thinking.

"Fifty-six to one!!!" Bob shouted again, raising his hands. "Fifty-six to one!" he continued, saying each word completely incredulous at the idea. "How can you be so-" Bob was saying, but stopped himself, "foolish," he said after a moment, "to understand this but work alongside doctors in a hospital?" he continued, asking rhetorically with a defeated head.

Slowly sitting back in the chair in front of me, "even I can do those math, PJ, obviously you were going to lose, just look at those odds, fifty-six to one."

"But-" I managed to say before Bob interrupted me again.

"Don't interrupt me," he said slowly, as if restraining himself. "Wait until your mother arrives; we're going to thoroughly discuss the punishment for your stupid decision to gamble and lose the money."

"Dad-" again, an attempt to explain myself.

"You'll work for all the neighbors in the neighborhood until you pay off your debt. You'll be a babysitter, do garden work, and you won't go out on weekends," he began to enumerate, not interested in what I was about to say. With each item, it seemed like his anger was returning full force, once again getting up from the chair to walk back and forth.

Tired of him not listening to me, standing up, I shouted a bit frustrated, "I DIDN'T LOSE!"

"Eh?" Bob asked suddenly, stopping.

"I didn't lose, look," I affirmed, handing him the piece of paper.

Taking the check, exhaling disbelief slowly, Bob read its contents.

After a few seconds of an uncomfortable silence, Bob slowly, with slightly shaky legs – if the tremor in his knees meant anything – sat down. "Two hundred fifteen thousand six hundred dollars," I completed, stating the amount from memory. I had the number engraved in my mind after several moments of contemplating the check on my own.

Still holding the check in his hands, Bob slowly lifted his face, staring at me with marked incredulity. "What?" he asked, apparently still not believing it.

"I had a feeling," I said, unsure if it was a sufficient explanation.

"A feeling?" Bob asked, amused and offended at the same time, snorting through his nose.

Relieved that Bob finally stopped shouting, I also snorted slightly.

Shortly after the two of us uncomfortably laughed, Bob seemed to remember the gravity of the situation. "Don't think for a second that I approve of what you did," the man said seriously, raising his finger.

"I understand, and I genuinely apologize. I promise it won't happen again," I said earnestly, truly repentant. Upon deep reflection, the bet was a completely risky and stupid action.

After several seconds of staring at me, Bob nodded slightly. "Alright," he sighed, "I'm glad you understand, son," he said much calmer, "this will never happen again," he declared determinedly, "especially not with money already earmarked for something," he added ironically, "money is to be used responsibly," the man explained, pointing at me with one of his hands, ironically the one still holding the six-figure check.

"I understand," I nodded resolutely.

"Good," Bob smiled widely, looking again at the check in his hands, "we need to deposit this into your college savings account," he stated.

"Do I have a college savings account?" I asked pleasantly surprised.

"Now you do," Bob affirmed playfully, handing me the check carefully as he walked past me toward Teddy's room.

Opening the door slightly before knocking twice to open it completely, "I'm going out with your brother for a few minutes. Do you want anything?" I heard Bob say before he walked away again towards his room.

A moment later, Bob returned with a small folder in his hands. "Let's go to the bank; it's dangerous to have an undeposited check," the man said as he took the keys to his not-so-great truck from the small table by the entrance. "By the way, you're treating your sister and her friends to ice cream," he added with a grin, shaking his head as he left the house, with me following.

The car ride to the bank was uncomfortably silent, only occasionally broken by Bob's small snorts.

"I was thinking," I said somewhat nervously, presenting the idea.

"What?" Bob asked abruptly.

"Instead of putting the money in a savings account, why not invest it?" I asked quickly. "Safe investments that grow the amount slowly until the day I need it," I continued speaking rapidly, seeing how the man frowned. I couldn't miss this opportunity, and if Bob refused, I would have to wait two years to make my own decisions.

"Investment?" Bob asked, still focused on the road.

"Yes, I don't understand it very well, but it's like buying part of a company and then waiting for the value of the company to grow enough to grow your invested money," I tried to explain as best as I could. I really didn't know how it worked, only that some people did it to become very rich.

"I don't know," he said, apparently not very convinced. "It doesn't sound very safe," he added calmly as he continued driving.

"According to what I've read, there are indeed stocks that are not very safe, but there are others that are," I explained quickly.

Still not convinced, Bob gripped the steering wheel. "I tell you what," after a few seconds of contemplating, he said, "after opening your account, we can go wherever they do those things and ask. I don't promise anything," he added calmly.

"Okay," I said relieved. "Thanks, Dad."

"Don't thank me yet," the man said ironically.

After several minutes of driving, we arrived on the street where the bank was located. For how small Medford was, the bank was quite sizable.

At the bank, after explaining the reason we were there, one of the employees led us to the person in charge of opening accounts. Quickly and with the necessary documentation, with Bob's help, we opened an account supervised by guardians, in this case, Bob.

"We're going to deposit this check, and I'll give you your account passbook," the banker said with a big smile, getting up from his seat. "Again, Mr. Duncan, I thank you for choosing our bank," raising his hand, the man shook Bob's hand warmly.

After shaking my hand too, we followed the man to one of the desks, where he cheerfully greeted the woman behind the desk before handing her the check along with the account passbook.

"From now on, if you need to deposit more money or if you need to withdraw, just hand the passbook to one of our lovely cashiers, and she'll take care of updating the account status," the man explained as he shamelessly winked at the woman, who apparently ignored the banker without interest.

When the woman finished with a professional smile, she handed over the passbook. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" the banker asked, still maintaining his wide smile.

Apparently recalling our conversation, "Yes, actually, is there anyone here who can explain about 'investments'?" Bob asked.

"Is anyone available?" the banker turned again to the cashier and asked.

"Warren is always here," the woman replied, shrugging one of her shoulders.

"Yes, he's always here," the banker forcibly nodded. "Well, I'm pretty sure Warren can answer your questions as well as anyone else," with a somewhat forced smile, the banker affirmed, "just a small warning, Warren can be," he added, pausing to find a word to define the other man, "special," he finally said.

"Special how?" Bob asked worriedly.

"Oh, not in a bad way," the banker quickly explained, "it's just that Warren Lynch is too focused on his job," the man added as he guided us through the bank to an office with the door open.

Warren Lynch's office explained the warning the banker had given. From the open door of the office, we could see hundreds of books, magazines, and newspapers of different types scattered everywhere.

With two knocks on the door frame, the banker caught the attention of a strange man working behind an equally messy desk.

Writing on one of the several papers on his desk, the man who appeared to be a little over his forties raised his head in surprise.

"Jefferson," the man greeted the banker, completely ignoring my and Bob's presence right next to the man.

"Warren, let me introduce Mr. Duncan and his son PJ. They're here to ask you some questions," the banker explained, drawing the strange man's attention to us.

"Ah," surprised to find two other people in front of him, the man took a few seconds to react, "of course, of course," excitedly, the man stood up, throwing a bunch of papers resting on his legs, "please, go ahead," he said as he walked around his desk to clean up the many papers that also rested on the other chairs, "please," with a big smile, the man pointed to the two chairs in front of his desk.

"Excuse me," apologetically, the banker whispered his goodbye to us.

---

Author's Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, and "Not a Doctor" (someone mentioned it, and it certainly reminds me of Brooklyn 99, RIP Andre Braugher).

Last chapter of the year.

I'd like to clarify a few things.

1. As the first paragraph of this section says, I'm not American, so I don't know how creating a bank account works in that country, much less one in 1990.

2. I am extremely poor; currently, in my bank account, I have the equivalent of 240 US dollars. Therefore, I obviously don't know how investments, the stock market, or anything similar works. Everything I know is from the world of entertainment, so be prepared for the amount of nonsense I'm going to come up with in the next chapters (basically a bit more nonsense than usual).

3. A few days ago, I did the following internet search: "best investors in the world." Warren Buffett was one of the names that appeared. I don't know who he is or what his personality is like. I explain this because I'm simply using his name in the story. I hope this doesn't offend anyone; it's not my intention. I just wanted a name that would justify what will happen over time in this story.

Another week has passed, so new thanks are in order. I would like to thank especially:

keyakedo

RandomPasserby96

11332223

Having said that.

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thanks for reading :D

PS: LEAVE A REVIEW, please.

PS2: Many thanks to all who wished me a Merry Christmas. Although I couldn't respond at the time, it was nice to read your comments. Happy New Year! I hope your goals are achieved, but above all, I hope the world doesn't end.

See you next year (very bad joke).