You make one dumb mistake when you’re an intern and it follows you forever I guess. [Sigh.] I mean - I thought I knew everything at the time so I guess the way I reacted was my own fault. I was young and stupid.
Most do, yeah. [She wastes no time blurting that one out.]
It’s impossible to stop the gossip after a certain point. I am the cold bitch who eats, sleeps, and breathes her work and doesn’t know how to switch off. I’m a know-it-all who is never wrong and will tear you apart without a moment’s notice. No one lasts in Chem because I’m such a stickler for everything.
[She’s chuckling about it, shaking her head. More beer.]
[It’s not meaningless. It’s just an unfortunate side effect of being tipsy. Wendy’s three beers in and hasn’t eaten in… uh… when was the last time she ate?]
But I do have friends at work. Like - two. I mean - I guess they’re my friends? [Squint. She’s thinking about this.] And they’ve been here like - ages. Lots of tenure. [Sigh.]
I’m fine I guess. I dunno. Can I have another one? I’ll get you back.
[Unfortunately for them both, Muldoon has no concept of limiting alcohol intake, so he will happily facilitate her bad habits along with his. After downing his drink, he waves the bartender over for another round. It's not like he has many other expenses anyway.]
Are they actually your friends, or are they people you spend time around?
[Of course it doesn’t! She frowns at the statement, silently nods in agreement. Not convincing at all. Wendy’s a bad liar, the alcohol not doing her any favors.]
We don’t even work in the same department. So schedules rarely match up.
[She mumbles a thank you for the beer but doesn’t go straight for sipping (or chugging, let’s be real) it, just holds the bottle for a bit.]
[Her nails softly clink against the glass. Fidget, fidget.]
Often enough. Maybe we’ll have lunch. Mostly it’s just little visits that could’ve been an email. They’re in Ops so everyone wants to talk to them, but they usually socialize with me instead. [And then she takes a sip.]
[An awful lot of silence there, Robert. It doesn’t go unnoticed. She just sorta - glances his way. Then drinks some of her beer.]
…That’s a question. [One she really doesn’t know the answer to. Now it’s her turn to think in silence, her anxiety about the question itself beginning to spike.
They were there from the beginning, back when she was a fresh-faced twenty-year-old intern. Why wouldn’t she trust them? Oh no…]
[This whole “friend” conversation on its own is enough to make her uncomfortable. If it weren’t obvious enough already. The silence just heightens the anxiety. The four beers aren’t helping either. Maybe she should take a break before #5 is a reality.]
Robert. Are we… friends? Do you think? I’m not trying to avoid what you’re saying - it’s just something I had to ask. Popped into my head.
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Muldoon's brow lifts and he takes another sip of whiskey as he says,] Alright, you're going to have to tell me more about that.
[Finishing the sip he hastens to elaborate,] The way you just went quiet, not the frat house thing.
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The whole story, please.
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It’s classified information I can’t repeat, Robert. [You know - like she always says about almost everything pertaining to her ultra top-secret job.]
Let’s just say the fuck-up I made is the type that gets put in training manuals. Under “don’t fucking do this shit.”
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Doesn't everyone do that sort of thing at least once? That's why you start off on an internship.
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[How is she already on her third beer? When did he get her the new one?]
Took it too personally and next thing I knew people were avoiding me in the hallways.
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The longer she waits to say something the more obvious it is that she’s the real culprit here.]
I… got used to it. After a while. If they fear me I have power.
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Do they fear you?
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It’s impossible to stop the gossip after a certain point. I am the cold bitch who eats, sleeps, and breathes her work and doesn’t know how to switch off. I’m a know-it-all who is never wrong and will tear you apart without a moment’s notice. No one lasts in Chem because I’m such a stickler for everything.
[She’s chuckling about it, shaking her head. More beer.]
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So you scare everyone in your team, to the point that no one stays around very long.
[He takes a sip of his drink to let that summary sit between them.]
That's not very good office politics, you know. [She knows. He knows she knows.]
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While she gets the laughter out of her system, he sips his drink and waits until she's calmed down a little before he speaks again.]
Now I could do one of two things. Do you want me to give you unsolicited advice, or just ask how you are?
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But then - a thought:]
Wait - if I asked for the advice it wouldn’t be unsolicited anymore… [The softest snort of amusement.] Whatever, whatever - go ahead and spill.
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Make, and keep, one friend at work. More if you can, but focus on one. It makes more of a difference than you think.
[His hand drops then and he looks at her properly, brow creased in reserved concern.]
But are you alright?
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But I do have friends at work. Like - two. I mean - I guess they’re my friends? [Squint. She’s thinking about this.] And they’ve been here like - ages. Lots of tenure. [Sigh.]
I’m fine I guess. I dunno. Can I have another one? I’ll get you back.
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[Unfortunately for them both, Muldoon has no concept of limiting alcohol intake, so he will happily facilitate her bad habits along with his. After downing his drink, he waves the bartender over for another round. It's not like he has many other expenses anyway.]
Are they actually your friends, or are they people you spend time around?
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We don’t even work in the same department. So schedules rarely match up.
[She mumbles a thank you for the beer but doesn’t go straight for sipping (or chugging, let’s be real) it, just holds the bottle for a bit.]
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So they're people you see at work sometimes?
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Often enough. Maybe we’ll have lunch. Mostly it’s just little visits that could’ve been an email. They’re in Ops so everyone wants to talk to them, but they usually socialize with me instead. [And then she takes a sip.]
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After a bit of silence he asks,] Would you trust them with your life?
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…That’s a question. [One she really doesn’t know the answer to. Now it’s her turn to think in silence, her anxiety about the question itself beginning to spike.
They were there from the beginning, back when she was a fresh-faced twenty-year-old intern. Why wouldn’t she trust them? Oh no…]
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Maybe think about making a friend who you know has your back.
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Robert. Are we… friends? Do you think? I’m not trying to avoid what you’re saying - it’s just something I had to ask. Popped into my head.
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I consider you my friend.
[That doesn't always mean the other person feels the same way, after all.]
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