“Tell me everything,” Cary said. She knew she spoke too quickly, but something inside told her that Odila would slip out if given any opening. “It was your last major job before this one, right?”

“That’s an overstatement,” said Odila, leaning back. “Strawberry Cherry was a band Dusty and I had before we got into DCT. We were pretty a’ight.” She let out a snort. “Well, Dusty was brilliant, I evened things out.”

“Whatever you did, you won over friends in high places,” said Cary. “Sounds like Iona all but sold her soul to get you on her docket.”

“Iona, God,” said Odila, throwing her palm into her forehead--for once, she didn’t seem overdramatic. “She drives me up the wall. I spent the first three months wondering if she was just trying to jump my bones, but nope! She was actually that crazy to have me.”

“Okay, thing one,” said Cary, “don’t say something like that in a job interview.”

“What, scared I’ll have to explain to my interviewer where babies come from?” said Odila, biting her tongue between her lip and drumming the front of the desk dramatically. Like a goddamn middle schooler, Cary thought.

“Thing two, that’s kind of a weird thing to say about your coworker?” said Cary.

“Have you heard some of the stuff that’s come out of her mouth?” said Odila. “The woman is a human rainbow. I thought I was supposed to be the gay disaster of this band. Are we in the decade where I can admit I’m a gay disaster in a job interview?”

“At the risk of assuming you’re taking this seriously, no,” said Cary dryly. “Now back to being a grown-up: what made you leave Strawberry Cherry to join DCT?”

“Not starving to death was an incentiviser,” said Odila. “I’m rapidly approaching a whole tenth of my life with a stable income!”

“From what I heard, negotiations were pretty fierce,” said Cary, “so there must have been something about it that difficult to give up.”

“It did. Still does,” said Odila with a shrug. Once again her gaze seemed to drift. “Without it, I would have never had a chance to be a functional human being.” She followed up with a dark cackle as her gaze swiveled back to Cary. “Hard to believe, right?”

“Do you miss it?” Cary asked.

“Hey, I got a question, officer,” said Odila, raising her hand. “What does this have to do with anything again?”

“It’s your previous experience,” said Cary. “Eighty percent of your interview is tailoring your life to make it seem like you were born to do the job your applying for.”

“Well if that doesn’t sound like the most corporatocratic pencil-pushing Mad Max nightmare hellscape,” said Odila. “What, do you ride a monster truck to work over a stack of dead manilla envelopes every day? Or are you just trying to make yourself look bigger?”

“Do you miss being there?” asked Cary again.

“And why are you so bent on knowing?” Odila asked.

“Because I already know this interview is a sham,” said Cary, “and I want to know how much of the rest of your career is too.”

“As much of a sham as your supposed bleeding heart concern for me and my bandmates is,” said Odila. “You think you’re Jesus Christ because what?” she threw out her arms dramatically to both sides. “You know how to get this city all the cashier and data entry jobs they could want and more? Because you know what some dick in a suit is going to ask me to see if I’m desperate enough to blow my ass open on a wage that can’t even keep me alive?”

“For God’s sake, I know you care!” Cary all but shouted. “So would you just drop it and act like you admit it?”

Odila snorted, a look of dark anger crossing her face. Cary could tell she struck a blow, but what she struck surprised even her. Odila cared--it was a simple revelation, but a terrifying one. This interview wasn’t half-assed after all. Okay, it was, she corrected herself, it absolutely was. But it wasn’t done without a reason. Hell, looking at the indignant glare coming out of the corner of Odila’s eyes, truly wounded and truly angry, Cary could only assume that it was big. But what was it?

“Hey, let’s make a trade,” said Odila. Her tone was cold, and at a noticeably lower note without it’s usual lilt of playful belligerence. “I’ll care if you stop pretending to.”

“I can’t stop what I’m not doing,” said Cary. At her word, Odila let out a fake squeal, clapping her hands next to her head.

“Well! That changes everything!” said Odila. “Right right, do I miss it Strawberry Cherry. Yes. The answer is yes,” she gave a dramatic bow. “Now milady, you may move on.”

“This isn’t your fault, you know,” said Cary, shaking her head. “Joining DCT to survive. Bringing Dusty back to this--”

“Don’t you dare,” Odila said suddenly. It came so fast Cary almost got a chill. “If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, drop it. Or I’m walking out of this room and not coming back.”

“Okay. Okay,” said Cary, raising a hand as if in surrender. “But I’m serious. Odila, please...don’t think this is all on you. I can’t imagine what your life must have been like, but I know this stuff can stick with you until the day you die.”

“Hey, let me do an impression of you right now,” said Odila, pointing to Cary. “‘Hey Odila! Quit acting like a piece of shit! Also, love yourself for who you are!’ Ha ha!” she snorted. “God, if I actually wasn’t an awful human being, I’d feel completely patronized right now!”

“You’re not an awful human being,” said Cary flatly.

“Yes, saying it again while looking like you’re choking on a frog will definitely convince me this time,” said Odila. “You know I mentioned that I got thrown out of my house, right? That doesn’t happen to sweet little angels.”

“Kids shouldn’t have to be sweet little angels to not get thrown out of their house,” said Cary.

“God, I can see how you and Iona are friends,” said Odila. “You’re both naive. Freaking naive,” the way she said it was laced with anger, and a deep weariness beyond her years. And yet her smile remained unbroken, even though once again, her gaze was far away--as far as it could possibly go to avoid looking Cary in the eyes.

Cary could almost feel her old social work training come in. She felt for Odila. She knew that Odila had seen things. But she also got the sense that Odila did not want to talk about anything that mattered--and Cary was going to get nowhere unless she found a way to get it out there.

Alright, time to cast a wide net. Let’s find something that Odila does want to talk about. If she can find that and get her talking, Cary had a feeling the truth wasn’t far behind. Odila was too honest for her own good, and far too honest for the game she was trying to play.