Chapter Text
Mona had been ten minutes late for work even before she dumped her coffee all down the front of her Sleater-Kinney shirt while trying to get out of the car. She’d spent the following five minutes using old Subway napkins to try and pat herself, her steering wheel, and the center console dry, before giving it up as a lost cause. It’s not like anyone at the station expects her to come in with a clean shirt anyway, much less on time or in a good mood.
When she gets to the elevators, she has her empty cup in one hand, a tote bag of CDs over her shoulder, a binder under her arm, and a huge wet spot down her front. She’s hoping to sneak off to the bathroom to hold her shirt under the dryer without having to talk to Natalie about fundraising or about whether Colby of “Famous” Local “Band” Yucky Bicycle is actually into her or just trying to get her to play his stupid EP on the radio. Mona is kind of waiting for Natalie to realize that she’s a huge fucking lesbian, but isn’t holding her breath about it.
She wonders what Natalie’s type is. Natalie mostly seems to like Colby because he has shaggy hair (?) and exists (???). Mona isn’t really the expert on what people like about men. Even the ones she doesn’t hate on principle, like Oliver, their inoffensively nice accounts manager, she can’t imagine wanting to date.
She can sort of see Natalie being one of those lesbians who only dates other kind of normal looking futches. Mona is giving this the consideration it’s due when she pushes through the doors and sees someone dressed in the most pink that has probably ever been seen in WRDO, ever.
The girl is holding both of Natalie’s hands in front of the reception desk, a pretty little confection in ruffles. Mona’s first thought is that she thinks she looks like every girl who has ever been mean to her and her second is that she has some of the biggest, blondest hair that Mona could possibly imagine. It bounces when she bounces. She’s been bouncing since Mona opened the station door. Joanne, frozen behind the desk, is peering up out from under the brim of her WRDO hat at both of them, big eyed and open mouthed.
Mona thinks for one exciting second that everyone is so focused on slutty barbie that she’ll be able to sneak around whatever the hell is going on here, but then the new girl sees her and goes “hi!” like it’s fucking Christmas or something.
“Hey,” Mona says and Natalie says, with maniacal cheer, “Mona! Hey!”
“Hi,” Mona repeats, and decides that she’s not going to like what Natalie is about to say.
“This is Shelley,” Natalie says. “She’s our new marketing manager.”
“No,” Mona says. “Natalie, what? Come on, no.”
“Come on!” Natalie says, giving her big pleading eyes. “Oh come on, Mona, the station needs this. You know we need this.”
Mona thinks that the station needs many things, like consistent funding, new carpet, and technology that isn’t from 1985, not whatever is happening here.
“Shelley is going to help us,” Natalie says and Mona is reminded that arguing with Natalie when she’s like this is impossible. Best case scenario Mona doesn’t make any headway and feels like a dick, worst case Natalie realizes what a terrible idea this is and gets really sad and Mona still feels like a dick. “You should have seen it! I was, oh my gosh, I was tabling right? And she just appears out of nowhere and suddenly, wow! We have a bajillion signatures on our mailing list.”
“A bajillion,” Mona repeats and Natalie gives her a beseeching look.
“Its so great to meet you,” Shelley says, and Mona is still waiting for it - the other hot pink chunky animal-print heel to drop, but Shelley just keeps smiling at her like a sentient birthday cake. “Natalie said you know so much about bands.”
“About bands, yeah,” Mona says and gives Natalie a look like what the fuck were you thinking and Natalie gives her a look like THIS IS GOING TO BE SO GREAT DON’T YOU THINK SO, which is like half of the looks Natalie gives her. Mona almost never thinks it’s going to be so great, but there’s always next time.
“This is going to be so much fun,” Shelley says, and Mona can suddenly see exactly how she and Natalie established communication, even though Natalie is mostly elbows and little button up cardigans and Shelley smells like warm vanilla sugar. “I love music.”
“Uh huh, yeah,” Mona says. The sleeves of her sweatshirt are falling back down over her elbows and she hitches her papers over onto her hip so she can shove it back up. “And what do you listen to?”
“Lots of stuff!” Shelley says. “Do you know Britney Spears?”
“Oh wow,” Mona says. “I try not to.”
“Shelley knows a lot about pop music,” Natalie says.
“Well, as much fun as this has been,” Mona says. “I have some like, really important stuff to do. With bands.”
“Great!” Shelley says, and Mona makes a face like yeah, sooooo great and escapes to her studio. She lets her binder fall to her desk with a satisfying smack and looks down at her still soaked T shirt. She flicks her lip piercing with her tongue and thinks very hatefully about Top 40 radio, sororities, and the pretty, nice smelling girls who knew she was gay before she did. She's aware it doesn't change anything. It doesn't even really make her feel better.