Julia was punctual and dependable to comp vocals, curl cables or change coffee filters in the lounge where the Klimt and Klee posters hung impressing her more than the platinum records which took up the other wall space. The studio was called The Pharmacy and she acquired this job after impressing everyone following her volunteer work placement which stemmed from taking music business at Black River Community College with the weirdly leering Justin Delacarte, who while talking to her, or other students, particularly females, often twisted his expressionless unblinking face to punctuate a statement, “that figure is E eolian” then pivots face 45 degrees, moves eyeballs towards student’s face, more like a sommelier than teacher of modes, motifs and mechanicals. Among themselves they refer to him as Mr. Damian because this move was reminiscent of the exorcist. Students tried countering him with defensive body language but he was oblivious. Don’t you notice the squirms, panic-eyebrows, the backward steps? No you don’t, it’s not in your lunch-box. Part of the job was finding temporary work placements to justify the work experience portion of the advertised courses. As a young man Justin played drums in Aural Fixation led by Rufus Halverson who later created The Pharmacy. Julia wasn’t the first student from BRCC to get a placement there but she was the first to insult a star client, something that guarantees dismissal, but as much as King Henry liked power and submissive engineers and studio owners who scrambled to please him, he was amused that the young woman not knowing he was sitting on the couch by the wall spoke her mind after walking in on the playback, believing the only other person present was the chief engineer, Dave. Though she meant it when she remarked after the final cymbal, that’s some horrible bullshit Dave, so generic, she never expected King Henry to reply from the wall furniture, oh you don’t like it, huh?