Chapter Text
Olive had one too many drinks. That wasn’t true, but she was a lightweight. That’s what happens when you don’t have money for food. Malcolm begged and pleaded for a karaoke night, to Olive’s and Anh’s dismay. Did they love Malcolm? One hundred percent. Did they struggle to do karaoke? Yes.
But seeing as Malcolm was the best friend Olive could wish for, she came and promised to sing with him. Anh went on stage and rocked out to Paramore just as doctors Holden Rodrigues and Adam Carlsen walked in.
“Ten o’clock,” Olive said, wagging her brows.
“Ugh. He is so hot,” Malcolm said. “Maybe I should take the plunge tonight.”
“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t like you,” she assured him, squeezing his bicep.
“Evening,” Malcolm called, holding his glass up. Adam stayed at the bar, ordering drinks while Holden strode over.
“Malcolm. Good to see you,” Holden smiled. “Olive, you as well.”
“Hi, Dr. Rodrigues,” she grinned. She didn’t know him well, but he was always kind during her committee meetings.
“Please. Call me Holden.”
“Are you a fan of karaoke?”
Olive stayed quiet, letting them connect. Malcolm was one of her favorite people, and he had a crush on Holden for as long as Olive could remember. She slyly moved to the back of the table, giving them space. As she did, a dark, looming figure sat across from her.
“Olive,” he said quietly.
“Dr. Carlsen,” she said, hating how surprised she sounded. She hadn’t realized he knew her name. They had barely spoken before now.
“Adam, please.”
“Adam,” she conceded. He gave her a small smile. Tilted and uneven, but very real. He seemed shier than she expected. Olive had heard horror stories about Adam Carlsen, the destroyer of research careers. He was apparently intimidating and antagonistic. Opinionated and not afraid to let those opinions be known in the harshest ways possible. But the man sitting in front of her seemed almost…bashful.
“Do you like karaoke?”
He startled, a light pink touching his cheeks. “Nah. I’m only here for Holden.” He tapped his glass, looking at her nervously. “Do you?”
“Once I’ve had some alcohol, it’s not as scary,” she grinned before whispering, “though I would never do this if Malcolm didn’t beg.”
“I heard that,” he called. Olive laughed, shaking her head.
“What have you sang tonight?”
“A lot of Taylor Swift.”
“I feel alive!” Anh said, spinning. “We’re reputation girlies, Dr. Carlsen.”
Olive burst out laughing as Anh froze. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that to you. Ol, shots?”
Adam smiled, shaking his head lightly. “I’d rather you tell me…whatever that reputation comment meant than be scared of me. Next round is on me.”
“Olive and I did a duet of ‘I don’t wanna live forever’ earlier,” Malcolm said proudly.
“Sadly, my mercurial best friend wouldn’t know that absolute banger,” Holden said solemnly.
“And what are you going to sing, Holden?”
“I’m just here for the entertainment. You wouldn’t want to hear my voice,” he chuckled.
“That’s for damn sure,” Adam quipped.
“How long have you two been friends?” she asked curiously.
“Since we were kids,” Adam said.
“Who was crushcrushcrush for, Anh?” Malcolm asked innocently.
“As if you don’t know,” she said.
“That’s not the tradition,” he chastised.
“What’s the tradition?” Holden asked.
“You always have to dedicate your song to someone,” Anh said, rolling her eyes. “It was for a certain redhead. Is that good enough?”
“It is. Though, I think it would be better if you told him in person,” Malcolm said.
“Malcolm, you’re up next.”
“And who is this song for?” Olive teased, throwing back a shot with Anh.
“Dr. Holden Rodridgues,” Malcolm grinned. Holden looked ecstatic, giving Malcolm his full attention.
“You’re next, Ol.”
“I don’t know if I can sing anymore,” she groaned. “I’ve practically done her entire discography.”
Plus, her head was getting fuzzy, and the last thing she wanted to do was make an ass out of herself in front of Adam Carlsen.
“Please?” Anh begged. “For me? One you haven’t done yet, but of course it has to be—”
“Taylor’s Version,” they said together. Adam was watching them, amused. Holden’s eyes were glued to Malcolm, blissfully unaware.
“You haven’t dedicated a song to your crush,” she pouted.
Olive noticed Adam’s face flush, and he started biting the inside of his cheek. She rolled her eyes, taking her hair down. Alcohol plus a tight rubberband equals a headache.
“No crush to be had,” she mused. “Shall I dedicate it to you?”
“Ol,” Anh groaned. “We have to find you a man.”
Olive snorted, sipping her drink. “I’ll dedicate it to my study and sing Toxic by Britney Spears.”
“Boring! Fine. You get a pass for now. Dedicate it to your last crush.”
Olive frowned, thinking hard. Her last crush? Olive never told Anh the truth about herself. That she didn’t get crushes. She never experienced attraction unless she knew someone inside and out. She needed to trust and know a person before that happened, except…
It’s the best one.
“There was one person…”
“Perfect! Here. Let’s cheers for luck!”
Malcolm hopped down from the stage, happy and flushed.
“Malcolm, grab your drink. We’re cheersing Ol!”
“Kalamata, cheers,” he said. Holden and Adam joined, though the latter looked pale. “Why are we cheersing?”
“I am dedicating a song to my last crush, in spirit,” Olive recited.
“I am very proud, Kalamata,” Malcolm beamed. “What are we singing?”
“You Are in Love,” Olive decided.
“Anddddd,” Anh pressed.
“And I’m very sorry for what you’re both about to hear,” Olive said to Holden and Adam. “I don’t have a good voice.”
“She has a beautiful voice!” Anh defended. “Ol is hard on herself.”
“I am not Taylor Swift,” Olive said.
“Ol. You are stalling. Spill.”
“I don’t know his name,” Olive said, deflating.
“I said crush, Ol! Not a random dude you met at Starbucks.”
“Fine. He’s called bathroom Guy.”
“Not good enough. Did you meet him in a bar bathroom or something,” Anh frowned.
“Nope! I can verify this is a real crush,” Malcolm testified. “Though, he may be a ghost. It was a guy she met the day she interviewed at Stanford. We spent all of Kalamata’s first year looking for him and never did. ”
Adam dropped his drink, his face scarlet, eyes bright. “Fuck, sorry.” Holden ducked his way to help Adam, and they had a quiet conversation.
“Eeeee!” Anh clapped, jumping, unbothered by the drink spilling over the table.
Something about the look on Holden and Adam’s face made Olive pause, but she didn’t have time to think. Nor could she, given the alcohol flowing through her system. She stumbled her way to the stage, grabbing the microphone. The crowd cheered, having known her at this point.
“One look, dark room, meant just for you, time moved too fast, you play it back,” she sang, the lyrics flowing through her. Malcolm and Anh were singing along in support, the way they always did. “Buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke, no proof, not much, but you saw enough, small talk, he drives, coffee at midnight, the light reflects, the chain on your neck, he says ‘look up’, and your shoulders brush, no proof, one touch, but you felt enough, you can hear it in the silence—”
“Silence!” Malcolm and Anh yelled when she pointed at them, the bar joining in.
“Silence—”
“Silence!”
“You, you can feel it on the way home—”
“Way home!”
“Way home—”
“Way home!”
“You, you can see it with the lights out—”
“Lights out!”
“Lights out—”
“Lights out!”
“You are in love, true love, you are in love,” Olive sang, smiling at Anh and Malcolm, who were dancing. Holden was looking Adam curiously, who was looking at Olive like there was no one else in the room.
“Morning, his place, burnt toast, Sunday, you keep his shirt, he keeps his word, and for once, you let go, of your fears and your ghosts, one step, not much, but it said enough, you kiss on sidewalks, you fight and you talk, one night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says, you’re my best friend,” Olive sang, gesturing at their table, “And you knew what it was, he is in love. You can hear it in the silence—”
“Silence!”
“Silence—”
“Silence!”
“You, you can feel it on the way home—”
“Way home!”
“Way home—”
“Way home!”
“You, you can see it with the lights out—”
“Lights out!”
“Lights out—”
“Lights out!”
“You are in love, true love, you are in love. And so it goes, you two are dancing in a snow globe round and round. And he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown, and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars. And why I’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words.”
Olive’s head was spinning. She was dizzy from happiness, singing, and alcohol. Her mind was flooded with memories of a tall, dark figure comforting her in a vulnerable moment.
“Cause you can hear in the silence,” Olive crooned. She found herself staring at Adam. He had such an earnest expression, full of joy and hope. But why?
“You can feel it on the way home.”
It was clear he didn’t know the words, but they seemed to speak to him on a cellular level. He was absorbing every syllable.
“You can see it with the lights out.”
The wheels were spinning in Olive’s head. She knew he had been at Stanford for eight years. They hadn’t spoken often, but he was always kind. He was tall. He had dark hair and a tendency to wear black clothing.
“You are in love, true love. You are in love,” she sang, her brows furrowing as she kept singing the final chorus. “You can hear it in the silence—”
“Silence!”
“Silence—”
“Silence!”
“You, you can feel it on the way home—”
“Way home!”
“Way home—”
“Way home!”
“You, you can see it with the lights out—
“Lights out!”
“Lights out—”
“Lights out!”
“You are in love, true love. You are in love.”
He was a brilliant scientist. That much was certain. More than that, he had his own lab, which happened to be the only lab with its own…
Out of curiosity, is there a specific reason you’re crying in my restroom?
Olive nearly fainted, gripping the microphone stand with dear life. It was lucky she knew the lyrics by heart. He had been at Stanford for eight years, which meant two years ago…
Six years. Give or take.
“You can hear it in the silence—”
“Silence!”
“Silence—”
“Silence!”
“You, you can feel it on the way home—”
“Way home!”
He had a dreamy, deep voice. His consonants were just as sharp. The advice given to her was honest and straightforward. There was no bullshitting her, which Adam was known for. The memory of meeting him for the first time after her cohort started came into view.
He seemed eager and excited in a way he hadn’t with her fellow students. There was a lightness in his eyes, similar to the stained glass ones she was looking into now, that dimmed when she firmly introduced herself before he could speak because she hadn’t known. The way he stuttered and flushed, shaking her hand in response.
“Way home—”
“Way home!”
“You, you can see it with the lights out—”
“Lights out!”
“Lights out—”
“Lights out!”
“You are in love, true love, you are in love.”
Tonight, he looked happy and determined. The brown of his iris’ was molten, pulling her in. They were having a conversation no one else understood. With the slight nod of his head and tilt of his lips, Olive had her confirmation.
Maybe I’ll see you next year.
Maybe.
Oh.
My.
God.