Page 45 of House of Bass

First thing on a Wednesday morning—when I might have enjoyed a proper lie-in since my classes weren’t until the afternoon—I am instead perched in a lecture hall, watching a flock of doe-eyed teens chatter their way inside. Several of them, still whispering and glancing in my direction whenever they saw me as though I am some sort of display.

This is my sixth week assisting David with his first year students, a position I’d agreed to under what could only be described as gentle duress. He’d made the offer sound more like an order than an option, and now here I am, regretting every second of it. But I am here, aren't I?

Today, in particular, is the day I am actually taking a lecture of my own. I’d spent all of last night trying to decide what sort of demeanour to adopt and finally settled on “being myself”, a dreadful choice, as “myself” happens to be neurotic with nary an ability for sternness. Still, I don’t want to let David down; he’s placed a certain quiet faith in me, and I am determined, at the very least, not to make a complete fool of myself.

I even went so far as to create a file of notes of my own, rather than just use David’s. My heart is pounding by the time I realise there are still ten minutes to go before the class begins, so I take a quick gulp of the drink in my flask, which is unfortunately almost empty, to help settle my nerves.

That’s when David appears, right as I am teetering on the edge of yet another bout of perpetual worry. He spots me straight away, gives me his usual warm smile and a sharp nod, then sets his bag down on the teak desk (I’ve had plenty of time to note the furniture, having arrived absurdly early).

“Today,” he says, with that effortless calm he always has, “I’ll lead the first hour, then you’ll do the second after the break.” He can see the nerves on my face clear as day and continues, “It’s no different to when you gave that speech at your father’s conference last May.”

Last May was the launch of our latest phone model. Father wanted to use me as a sample of teenagers and technology, because of the accessories that came with them. I had to give a presentation of the research at the conference and how it was profitable. I had helped with the design, he wanted me to prove that I knew what it’d take to lead on my own one day. Afterwards he spent two hours telling me everything I did wrong, nothing of what I did right.

“I didn’t realise you watched that,” I say, eyebrows furrowed.

He laughs quietly at that, “Considering what I teach, I would be a fool not to. Your father’s company is an economist's fantasy. Anyways, a room with stuffy higher-ups can’t be any worse than teenagers.”

“You’d be surprised,” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that?” he asks, glancing up, his dark brown eyes so deep they almost appeared black.

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Are you ready?”

He gives me a short nod and turns to address the class. “Quiet down.” He gestures toward me, and at once every pair of eyes in the room seems to turn my way. I manage a polite wave at the multiplying crowd of students, or at least it feels like they are multiplying, keeping my smile firmly in place.

“As you already know, this is Annabel. She takes some of you for tutorials, so some might be more familiar than others. Today and for the next few Wednesdays she will be teaching you instead of I.”

Murmurs rang across the room, a few of the students exchanged looks that can only be described as skeptical. Ditzy blonde, I am not. I’m at the top of my class for a reason.

David continues, “I’ll start her off today and then she’ll continue. My office hours are the same as usual, I’ll still be here if you need me. Both of us will be.”

The lecture begins shortly after, David begins with a reminder of the modern history of the economy. Frankly much of it struck me as tedious but I am particularly familiar with the post–Second World War period. Britain neared bankruptcy due to the effects of the war, my family weren’t hit as hard but many others suffered.

David touches on this with his usual calm authority. When he speaks on each sub-topic, it is both composed and commanding; every student leans in, even those who had clearly enrolled merely because they thought it is an easy course.

“The coffee many of you drink daily. Coffea’d is franchised and makes their own coffee beans. Can anyone tell me what we would classify them as?”

A hand shoots up at the very back. “Monopolistic competition.”

“Precisely. And what, exactly, defines a monopolistic company?”

“A market structure where no single company or firm dominates a particular market, they compete through the branding, advertising and quality of their product,” comes the reply.

“And how does it differ from a company that serves a large market but faces no competition?”

“A pure monopoly is a company so dominant that it is the sole provider of a particular product or service, facing virtually no competition at all because they’re controlling supply and prices to limit meaningful competition” another student offers.

“Exactly. Now, which companies might be considered a pure monopoly?” He passes the question back to the floor, gesturing to a different student.

Students name multiple social media and software companies but what really catches attention is when someone says, “Astaeris.”

Every pair of eyes in the room, mine included, follow the statement and I catch David suppressing a small, almost imperceptible smirk.

“A lot of these phone and tech companies you have mentioned do have competition. They can display monopoly-like characteristics in certain markets but for the most part they really are an oligopoly. It’s completely different to utility providers. However, now that you have brought it up, let’s talk about Astaeris.”

My eyes widen at this, let’s not. I read his notes three times last night. We were going to use Samsung.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard of them. Most of the laptops and phones you own are likely theirs, a good chunk of you likely use their harp-software and swan-cloud as well. If you follow the news, which I strongly recommend for anyone hoping to gauge a good understanding of this class, you will see that many have tried to compete with them, invariably without success.”