Page 7 of The Scientist

“She’s strong. We’ll get through it together.”

She smiled at me sympathetically. Sarah and I were roommates in college for a brief period when she was a senior, and I was just starting out at Northwestern. She graduated the semester after we started living together, but we had really hit it off during our short stint as roomies. She was a classically trained pianist, who looked like a cross between Jackie O. and Snow White. She’d practice Mozart by day and blare German industrial rock by night. I remember loving the dichotomy of how she looked and dressed in comparison to how she acted.She looked like a housewife from the fifties but could make Tupac blush with the obscenities that would spew from her mouth, especially if she’d been drinking. I couldn’t wait to reconnect with her.

“Well, even though it’s not under the best circumstances, I’m glad to have you here.” She looped her arm through mine as we made our way through the hall.

“Thanks again for helping me get the interview.”

“Please! With your resume, they were thanking me for bringing you to them,” she said. “Speaking of interviews though, you’ll definitely have to interact with Captain Creeper tonight. But hopefully, he’ll be trying to kiss ass with the big wigs for most of the night.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed. I’d hate to get fired before I even started for a knee to the groin type interaction with the boss.

“Come on, let me introduce you to some of your new coworkers. I have one in particular that is dying to meet you.”

“Why? What did you tell them about me?” I asked skeptically.

She just laughed as we walked up to a table that sat roughly ten people, but there were only five people presently seated.

“Hadley, I’d like you to meet Anna Huong, Instrumental Composition; Stanley Applebaum, Music History; Sally Jones, Sound Engineering; Talya Kenashiro,Ethnomusicology; and my dear friend Lionel Vaughn, Music Technology.Everyone, this is Hadley Olivier, our new adjunct Music Composition professor.”

“Nice to meet you all,” I said, taking a seat next to Lionel, who was practically bouncing up and down on the edge of his seat. He looked to be in his early thirties with an ethnicity I couldn’t quite place. He had both Asian and Hispanic features with a neatly trimmed mustache and sporting a pair of really cool retro green glasses.

“You’re Hadley Olivier,” he said with barely contained enthusiasm. “You have no idea how freaking excited I am to meet you! My sister and I saw you perform a few years ago asPerón's Mistress in the Broadway production ofEvita. You were incredible! I cannot believe you’re here at Stanford.”

“Thank you so much,” I said, a little surprised someone here knew who I was. I had done a lot of work on Broadway over the past five years, so most of the die-hard musical theatre fans in New York were familiar with my work, but I wasn’t expecting that here. I loved to sing, so I’d done a few acting/singing roles in plays over the years, but my heart was definitely in composition.

“You’re a singer then?” the woman named Talya asked.

“Yes, I’ve performed in a few plays and sang backup on different soundtracks. But composition is my first love.”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s worked with some of the biggest stars in the biz,” Lionel announced. “I heard you wrote music for Phoebe Bridgers and Frank Ocean.”

“Calm down, Lionel. You’re drooling all over her,” Sarah told him.

“Sorry! If you can’t tell, I’m a huge fan. It’s not fair you’re that talented and also that gorgeous. I both love you and hate you in equal parts.”

“This is a very prestigious university with a well-respected music program,” Stanley interrupted. He looked to be in his late forties with a mild resemblance toJacques Cousteau. “I hope you didn’t come here thinking your minor celebrity would allow you to skate by without putting in some real effort.”

What the fuck was his problem?

“Fuck off, Stanley,” Sarah snapped at him from across the table. “The only reason you got a job here is because your dad plays golf with the president of the university.”

“Yeah, and didn’t you almost get dropped last semester because enrollment for your class was so low?” Lionel added.

“Kids these days just aren’t as interested in the history of music as they once were,” he said, turning a deep shade of red.

“Isn’t music history a required course for all undergrads?” Sarah asked pointedly.

“It is indeed, my friend,” Lionel chimed in. “That’s why you see Professor Graham’s history classes packed to the gills. None of the students want to listen to Rumpleforeskin over here for an entire semester.”

There were a few snickers from the rest of the table while Stanley stood up scoffing, and walked away from the table.

“Keep rolling your eyes, Stan. You might eventually find a brain in there,” Sarah called after him.

This was definitely not the first impression I wanted to make with my new coworkers.

“Don’t worry about that queef dumpster,” Lionel said, patting me on the back. “He gets intimidated by anyone with actual talent and real-world experience since he’s completely lacking in both.”

The others at the table nodded in agreement, so I figured I might not be the problem here.

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