Iago Incarnate

Perception Becomes Reality, Part 28

I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun
You got your hair combed back and sunglasses on, baby
I can tell you, my love for you will still be strong
After the boys of summer have gone

Between patients Dr. Malvagio had taken up the new hobby of learning to play the guitar. There existed no delusions of a rockstar existence ever becoming a reality, but as with everything he did, it served a purpose. Charm and trust only got so far, unfortunately, and even the most well liked colleague could grow to be taken for granted if they never grew or evolved. One of the most common topics of discussion around the Center was music, whether newly discovered artists, debate over all time great albums, or excitement surrounding live acts coming to the City of Brotherly Love. As he assumed it would, several times a day someone popped in to talk with Nick about learning to play and often how just about everyone else always wanted to learn to play but never did. He had no designs on becoming Andres Segovia, Nick only needed to play enough to impress, and as a rock fan he focused on learning as much Green Day as he could, taking advantage of the kings of the 3 chord songbook.

“King of the forty thieves and here to represent, the needle in the vein of the establishment…” The doctor quietly sang to himself as Mona Olsen appeared in the doorway, not a fan of the music but nodding her head along with the aggressive tune. “This isn’t the start of an early midlife crisis, is it? You know, we can get you help, it’s what we do!” she teased with an emphatic faux seriousness. Nick only smirked unapologetically, hoping she never suggested he talk to Dr. Cassius, who she seemed so professionally enamored with. “This is better than boxing because I can just sing about kicking someone’s ass without having to actually do it… much better than cognitive behavioral therapy or Carbamazepine.” before she could chime in he added to his intentional mention of powerful medications. “Though that’s just me, I’m not as quick as some of my colleagues to hand out meds like candy on Halloween.” His confident grin didn’t immediately implicate Michael, though he did have something of a reputation for being in favor of medications to treat most psychiatric issues.

“I'm sure you can probably find half the staff on hookup apps, those are the ones who need the reinforcement of their own worth.” Nick grinned, the comment an odd hand remark though it woke his imagination. “Actually, you probably don't want to know how many desperate souls we have lurking around here…” Mona laughed and shook her head as she walked out, not sure if she was curious enough to actually investigate for herself. It would take her a couple of days to work up the courage, but she would.

As the last of the Center staff departed that afternoon, Dr. Malvagio remained, carefully crafting a profile using Bianca's pictures along with a brief bio that he made sure to sound as if she had written it herself. Only minutes after creating the account there were already incoming notifications, though they could wait for tomorrow. Nick ma de e sure the burner phone was set to silent so it would neither vibrate nor emit any sound as he returned it to its hiding place inside of the carved out interior of one of the many psychiatric texts he kept from med school. Appearances are important, and to come off as one who takes great pride in his lifelong learning process and commitment to his craft was always high among Nick’s priorities. With his actual phone sitting atop his desk, the doctor strummed out a bit of Boys of Summer without singing along this time, just needing a lick to close out the day.

On the way home, Nick stopped for Peruvian lilies, Emelie’s favorite flower, which seemed so much more meaningful on a random Wednesday night than some culturally contrived pseudo holiday. She was always so taken with him and felt guilty at times for not being able to better relate to Bianca’s ongoing frustrations with her dissatisfying relationship. There had become a running joke at work banning Emelie from talking about her husband and how romantic, sweet, charming, or handsome he was. She was only allowed to complain, and got teased for even trying to insist that she had nothing to complain about. To keep her so head over heels required a lot of work, and complacence was always a risk. When one only has good, they can lose sight of the alternatives and that was Nick’s greatest fear. If Emelie ever became more difficult to control or keep reeled in, his whole world might fall apart. So mission one, always keep the missus drinking the Kool Aid. Though the line between maintaining toxic control and seeming suddenly overly sweet was a thin one, and veering to the other side had been known to become worrisome to the very person who needed to remain presided over.

Emelie was the furthest thing from Nick’s mind as engaged in some harmlessly inappropriate banter with his colleagues the next morning as he mixed together his protein shake in the break room at the Center. “I’m going to the peace of my office, safe from you degenerates!” Nick teased to a chorus of laughs as he took his shaker bottle, working it emphatically as he walked out, smiling far too much to be genuinely offended by a joke he would have made himself had the situation been different. Instead, he sank into his chair to see how much attention Bianca’s profile had gotten overnight. Fourteen matches, to be exact. Dr. Malvagio gave each of the men a psychiatric evaluation based on their photos and, for those brave enough to message, the content of those messages. “Douchebag, two-pump chump, sociopath, clearly compensating, didn’t get enough hugs as a kid…” even if none of this ever amounted to anything useful in his sabotage of Dr. Cassius, it had already proven to be delightfully amusing. 

With a few moments to kill before his first patient, Nick opted to scroll a bit, see if anyone stood out as interesting to maybe stir the pot a bit. He nearly dropped the bottle holding his protein shake as he coughed, stunned mid-gulp by the profile that came suggested. A rather unspectacular man whose mediocre attempts at humor weren’t nearly as intriguing as his details: “Mike, doctor.” Whether or not Michael even paid any attention to this account he clearly made for himself was of no consequence. Immediately “Bianca” swiped right on the man who was soon to become her husband. The real Bianca would never know, but that set the stage for Michael to potentially confront her. He would have to admit to having the account, and she would have no idea what he was talking about, even if he went so far as to show her. It was all too good to be true, but might even get better. As Dr. Malvagio walked down the hall to await his first patient, he passed Dr. Olsen, offering only a smile in passing before it hit him. What if she found Michael’s profile?!