Foreword
I've been advised by people much smarter than me that an important part of establishing a social media presence is to actually post the things I make. So that's what this is!
More specifically, this is a Character Study for one of the main characters of XenoSymbiosis, the book I'm writing. This isn't strictly canonical, nor particularly representative of the setting nor plot of the book. However, it has been illuminating, RE: What kind of person is Steven Kirchoff ?
That being said, I hope you enjoy~
Celebration - A Night Out with Friends
"Are you sure this is the place?" Steven asked, trying his best to keep the disdain out of his voice.
"Yeah man," Howard said. "This place is fuckin' sweet!" He clapped Steven on the shoulder. Steven internally recoiled from the touch, but suppressed the urge to do so physically.
"The music is really loud." Steven felt more than heard the bass spilling out of the entrance to Spots' Sports Bar & Grill; although being the only bar within walking distance of campus meant it was more 'club' than 'pub'.
"It's good music." Howard insisted.
"That's debatabl- Ow!" Steven yelped as Susanne punched him in the arm. Susie might've been short, but she was the two-time MMA champion for Landry's 3rd continental-district for a reason.
"Stop being a bitch Steve!" Susie poked him in the chest for emphasis. "This is your night!"
Also debatable. Steven grumbled to himself, rubbing his arm. If he'd had his way, they'd be out celebrating at a much smaller, quieter venue... Which was predicated on him actually knowing any venues to celebrate at. Hence, Spots'.
"Don't be such a downer." Maggie said, coming up behind him and giving him a hug. "Your dissertation was accepted! You're officially Doctor Kirchoff!"
"Yeah, quit being such a downer Mr. PhD-haver!" Susie teased.
Steven couldn't help but smile, if only a little. Doctor Kirchoff. It had a nice ring to it.
"Yeah man! It's your night, and it's time to CEL-E-BRAAAAAATE!~" Howard chanted, grabbing Steven around the shoulders with one arm and pumping his other fist the air. It took every ounce of Self control Steven had not to bite him.
Unfortunately, Susie & Maggie picked up on the chant. "CEL-E-BRATE! CEL-E-BRATE! CEL-E-BRATE!" Still chanting, the three of them practically frog-marched Steven over to the entrance. The bouncer gave them a once over, checked their IDs, and then they were inside.
The noise of the interior hit Steven like an ocean wave, slamming into him with enough force to steal his breath. He clapped his hands over his ears to shield them, but the music was so loud it was next to useless. He could feel the bass vibrating through his whole body, setting his bones shaking and his teeth rattling in their sockets.
His friends marched him past the anteroom and into the interior proper. Spots' wasn't packed wall to wall, but it was still plenty crowded. Howard lead them around the dance floor - a chaotic mass of strobing neon lights packed with bodies gyrating, grooving, and otherwise flailing to the music - to an empty booth near the back of the establishment.
"If I ever meet the guy who came up with the concept of a dance & sports bar, I'm going to toss them out an airlock." Steven muttered darkly as he slid into the booth.
"What!?" Howard leaned in and shouted in Steven's ear. Steven punched him. Howard flinched, but his goofy smile never faltered.
Howard made as if to sidle in next to Steven, but Susie grabbed him by the arm. "Me and Howard are gonna go hit the dance floor!" She shouted over Howard's shoulder.
"We are?" This was apparently news to him.
"We are." She squeezed his elbow and shot Howard a meaningful glare that brooked no argument.
"I guess we are." He shrugged at Steven, then let himself be dragged off towards the pulsing mass of bodies surrounding the DJ booth.
Steven watched them go, then flagged down a nearby waitress. She carried three trays stacked with drinks for other thirsty customers, but nodded her acknowledgement to him.
For a while, Steven just sat listening to the raucous chatter of the patrons shouting to one another over the music, punctuated by the occasional cheer or boo from the sports bar. It ebbed & flowed like the tide,
a bearable background hum that surged noise battered him from all sides, suppressing all other thoughts under its oppressive weight.
"Steve!" Maggie's voice got his attention.
"Huh?" He looked up at her.
"Did you hear anything I said?"
"Ummm..." Warmth flushed his cheeks. He hadn't even known she'd been talking to him.
She rolled her eyes, then scooched closer on the crusty faux-leather seat and leaned against his shoulder to speak right in his ear. "I was asking what your plans are now, Dr. Kirchoff."
"I, uhh..." Shit. What was he supposed to say? That he had no idea? That he hadn't even considered anything beyond just getting his Doctorate? That he didn't really have any idea what the hell he was supposed to do now that he had it?
Thankfully he was momentarily spared from answering by the waitress delivering his beers. Maggie took one and sipped, wrinkling her nose at the taste. She looked at him expectantly. Steven took a sip of his own - sharp, bitter, acrid; perfect - and took the opportunity to consider his options... Oh!
"I'm considering my options." He said, trying his best to give the words an air of nonchalance.
Maggie smile widened. "So you don't actually know yet."
Shit. He gave her a sheepish look. "I mean, I've been looking at a few options, but I haven't made any concrete decisions yet."
"Are you still going to apply to the B.R.I.?" She asked.
He froze with his beer halfway to his lips. "Umm... I mean, I was thinking about it, but the pre-requisites to even get an internship at Bernard are in-sane."
"So?" She sat upright and turned to face him. "I thought it was your dream to work for the B.R.I.?"
"It is, it's just..." Just what? Without conscious effort, a whole plethora of ready-made excuses came to mind, and he counted them off on his fingers as he spoke. "One, I'm fresh out university with zero published papers."
"You have your dissertation." Maggie pointed out.
Steven waved her comment off. "Dissertations don't count. Besides,I literally just gave my defense last week. It's not even been accepted for publishing yet. Then there's the fact I also don't have any sort of work experience at all. That's strike two."
"Three, I don't have any inside contacts or connections. My chances of being hired right out of the gate are next to zero."
"Next to zero still isn't zero Steve." She flicked his nose playfully. "Just go for it!"
He frowned. "I can't just walk a casual 20-odd lightyears over to Genesis, knock on the front door of the most prestigious xenobiology research institute in the whole Orion Arm, and hand them my resume with a firm handshake."
Maggie opened her mouth as if to reply, but Steven kept going before she could interrupt. "Bernard's hired exclusively through IFTC contracts for the past 40 years, and they rarely ever issue contracts. The last time they did was close to three years ago. Even if they issued one tomorrow, I'd have to win a hiring bid just to have my application considered." Steven's voice was getting louder, rising on a swell of impotent frustration as he recalled how just how hopeless his odds were. "The B.R.I. doesn't even consider bids for candidates unless unless they've published at least two papers in peer-reviewed journals. Minimum. If you actually want a shot, then you need at least 4 or 5. And even if your bid is successful, there's still multiple rounds of interviews, applications, and a whole bunch of other crap on top of that you've gotta get through afterwards if you want even a chance of being picked. And all of that, all of that hoop-jumping, back-breaking bullshit is just to get an internship position!"
Steven could've gone on listing the many, many reasons why working at the Bernard Research Institute wasn't feasible, but the lump forming in his throat forestalled him. Instead he took another long swig of his his beer. The booze was starting to work it's magic; warmth radiated outwards from his stomach, but it did little to soothe the knot of bitter anger tightening around his neck.
Maggie didn't say anything for a long moment. She just sat there, looking at him with an unreadable expression on her face; head cocked, bright blue eyes unblinking. Steven just stared [glumly] into the foamy dregs at the bottom of his glass.
Eventually, she asked, "So, what is your plan then?"
Steven barked a bitter laugh and shrugged. "Dunno." He downed the last of his beer, and flagged down the waitress for another round. "I'll figure something out. It's like Big B always said, you've just gotta keep moving forwards."
"Well..." Maggie leaned into his shoulder a little more, one finger twirling around the edge of her glass. "I've been giving it some thought, and I was thinking that if you need a place to think things over, you could stay with me for a while."
"Oh, that's okay." Steven replied automatically to her offer of assistance "The rent on my current place is paid up for the rest of the year."
"Oh. I see." Maggie seemed to deflate. She pulled away from him, slumping back in her seat and taking a long sip of her own drink.
Steven's stomach lurched. What did I say? Was I impolite? He didn't mean to be rude by refusing her offer. He scrambled to clarify himself. "Thank you for the offer though, really. That's very kind of you."
She flashed him a sad, pitiful little smile that he couldn't quite interpret. "I know." She dropped her gaze to the table, taking another sip of beer.
I know? What kind of an answer was that? What did that mean. His mind raced with potential interpretations of her words. He rolled back the conversation in his head, analyzing what'd been said, searching for any clues that'd put her words in context.
He found nothing. So he said nothing.
So the awkward silence between them lingered, the empty air between them filling with the pulsing beat of music and the dull roar of shouted conversation. The waitress returned with their drinks. Steven took his and immediately downed half of it.
Maggie finished her glass and picked up her own glass, then sighed and said, "Steven... There's something I've been meaning to tell you."
Steven put his drink down and turned to give Maggie his full attention. Whatever was going on, this was clearly important to her, and he wanted to give her the respect she deserved. "What is it?"
Maggie took a deep breath, obviously preparing herself for whatever she was about to say, then said, "Steven, I'm in l-"
"Hey-hey party people!" Howard staggered blindly into the middle of the conversation, knocking against the table and sending beer sloshing over the tabletop. "Whoops! Sorry dudes."
Steven shot Howard a dirty look, then pulled napkins from the table's dispenser to mop up the spilled alcohol. Maggie didn't let Howard off so easy.
"I thought you and Susie were dancing?" Her voice was as cold as ice & sharp as daggers.
Howard appeared not to notice. "She had t'go to the bathroom." He pointed over his shoulder. His shirt was soaked with sweat under the pits. "Sssoooo, I thought I'd pop in 'n see how you two lovebirds're doing."
"Lovebirds?" Steven raised an eyebrow. "Maggie and I aren't-"
Maggie turned her gaze on him, and whatever else Steven planned to say died in his throat. If looks could kill, Steven would've been flash-frozen on the spot. Fortunately for him, Maggie swiftly redirected her frigid anger back towards Howard. "We're fine, Howard." Her voice was so sharp it could've cut glass.
Howard might've been a total blockhead, but wasn't a utterly oblivious. "I-I'm gonna go find Suze."
"Good idea." The smile Maggie's gave him was no less sharp than her words.
Howard quickly made himself scare. Once he was gone, Maggie slumped back in her seat and stared dejectedly into her half-empty glass.
Meanwhile, Steven was as confused as ever. What the hell was up with that? Was it something Howard said? He replayed the conversation in his mind. Maggie said she wanted to tell him something, he'd given his ascent, then she looked really nervous, and then she-
Oh.
Oh.
Realization hit Steven like a bucket of ice-water. "Maggie, do... Are you-?"
She gave him that sad little smile again. "It finally clicked huh?"
"Marg- erm, Maggie." Steven stumbled over her name. The alcohol was really starting to kick in. "I... It's not... Y'know I'm ace, right? I've told you before. I like you a lot, but I don't-"
"Don't!" She snapped angrily at him. "Please don't, Steven. Just..." Her voice faltered. Steven saw tears welling in the corner of her eyes.
Maggie took a deep breath, knocked back the rest of her beer, scooped up his beer and knocked it back too. The whole booth shook as she slammed the empty glass on the table. "I have to go to the bathroom." And with that she got up, and stalked off towards the restrooms.
Steven watched her go. When she was out of sight, he let out the breath he'd been holding. Fuck me. Some celebration this turned out to be.
He pulled his PDA out, tapped it against the terminal embedded in the table to pay for the drinks, got up, and without another word to Howard, Susanne, or Maggie, strode out into the cold, silent embrace of the night.
Steven would never see any of his friends ever again.