Confessions with Dr. Sweets
To be honest…?
At work, at least in regards to my scientific findings, I am completely honest. My results are accurate, one could almost call them resolute, and they have never once been challenged in court. However my interpersonal relations could use some work.
Not a single day goes by where I do not lie to one of my co-workers. I am always putting up false fronts, pulling half-truths out of thin air, and working situations into my favor that it has become ground in so deep that I fear if I tried to stop my world would crumble down around me.
In regards to my past, I have talked very little, though what they do know is mostly half-truths covered in sweet deception. There are only a few facts that I can pull out of the stories I have told; and those are still vague at best.
Fact number one, that I could distinguish, is that I originated from a very poor neighborhood.
Fact number two, which was slightly easier to spot, is that to pay for my internship I received a very prestigious scholarship.
From there on in I cannot find one spec of truth in the stories I have told my co-workers; for they are just that, stories. The Wendell they know is completely fictitious; he is about as far from the real Wendell as is possible. And since psychologists claim that realizing you have an addiction is the first step in the recovery process, I guess I got lucky, I realized I didn't just have an addiction.
Throughout my mental tirade I meandered my way, out of the Jeffersonian, to Dr. Sweets' deceptively inviting office. From out in the hall I could hear his plush couch call out lovingly to me but I ignored it; for I was not here to have my mind searched, but instead to follow a scent I picked up about a month prior.
After a brief pause at the open door I entered. Ignoring the man's brief complaints at my intrusion I watched as he quickly refilled different folders and straightened out his desk. I did not bother to sit, but instead requested he accompanied me to lunch and not a second later did I hear his polite decline.
Tossing my phone on his desk I eyed up the young doctor, for he was truly young. Eyeing up the phone then myself I watched the confused man. After two quick beats I told him to call his girlfriend, cancel their lunch plans, and follow me. It was not a polite request like the first had been but instead it was an order. Firm and non-negotiable and it only took the young boy before me three seconds to realize that.
I watched him, analyzed his cautious movements, as he picked up my phone and hesitantly canceled his lunch date with Daisy. A second later my phone was back in my possession and the young doctor was pulling on his coat; cautious yet eager to follow me.
Looking over my shoulder I smiled as he trailed behind. Quickly and almost silently he followed my command, canceling all of his subsequent appointments and heading down to the parking garage before me. The smile that graced my face turned devilish as I eyed him, standing around awkwardly next to my black Suzuki. Ignoring him completely I strode over to the bike and unhooked the helmet, tossing him the spare as I went. So my scent trail was right… And now that I had Dr. Sweets under my control I knew I would have fun. Not even the thought of my world crumbling could undermine that.