by Mars Dorian
GearedTowardsViolet’s message stood out, as always.
Dear Violet,
Remember me? Hopefully, I’ve written you daily messages for the past year. I’ve also sent you that one thousand credit eCheque. But this mail isn’t about showing my fan commitment, although it is rather massive.
No, this mail is about helping you succeed in the Blogbuster show. I had no interest in watching this reality rubbish, but I’ll watch anything that features you. I even bought a Vorb, it’s floating around my shoulder as I type. Violet. Needless to say, you’re the best vlogger out there, those ego phonies have NOTHING on you. Violet, I want you to succeed, you, and you alone deserve to take the title.
I want to give you some much needed tips I jotted down while watching the show.
1) Keep your eyes open and your mind sharp. Everyone’s your enemy in the show. Doesn’t matter how nice or attentive your rival vloggers seem, they’re out to eliminate you from the show. It’s a vlogger versus vlogger world. And you do not make peace with them — ever.
2) Pay especially attention to that Elli Mental girl. You’ve already noticed that her cute, freckle-faced body can’t cover up the darkness that lurks inside of her. I think she’s on a personal vendetta to get you, despite pulling the whole sister-sister shtick.
3) Whenever you think it’s all hopeless, keep in mind that somewhere out there is a dedicated fan who watches your progress and wishes you all the best. So win this Blogbuster, for you and me.
Endless love, GearedTowardsViolet
P.S. May the vlog views be in your favor, I know I will be. Forever and ever.
Violet needed a breath after the mail. Messages from her number one fan always felt empowering and creepy at the same time, probably because they were text based. It was hard to read between the lines and see the true purpose of his messages. Maybe he really was just an obsessive hardcore fan. Maybe he was something else. Only time could tell.
Violet moved to the next priority-star mail and found the one with the ‘lawyer’ tag in the subject line. Eliza, the model with the burn damage from her last fashion show, let her lawyer go rampant in the message. The guy was on a jargon-crazy tear. Violet had to scan over it and pull out a dictionary to decipher his cryptic blahblah. But her eyes stopped when she found a six figure digit. Hint : it wasn’t his phone number.
The lawyer broke down the digits.
Hospital stay, the nanomed treatment of his client’s 3rd degree burn and other tech shenanigans.
Violet’s heartbeat hit another speed record.
Pressure, pressure, pressure.
The sweat assembled on her skin, her body felt lava-hot inside the bed. The thoughts in her head spun around, and around, and around, as she repeated the six figure sum in her mind. She wanted to jump out and take a cold shower when another priority mail blinked for her attention. This one was from Roman Stax himself.
What in the world.
Violet crawled back into the bed and opened the message.
“Violet, you femme fatale.
I want to speak with you, first thing in the morning. Keep your eScroll on, I’m going to send you a new message with directions before ten am tomorrow. Believe me, it’s going to be worth your time.”
Violet held still. Was there still a chance of getting fired from the Blogbuster?
Roman didn’t hint at anything in his mail. It was just one big, fat teaser, typical Stax style. Violet closed her eyes. Her body felt heavy like steel-brimmed lead, but her mind exploded with thoughts, rushing through at sonic speed, one more dramatic than the other.
In short, she dreamed up every worst-case scenario.
Violet Gear / game over.
In short, the next day couldn’t arrive fast enough.
She needed to know.
Now.
66
The cat alarm meowed in the morning.
Like, meow meowww.
Violet moaned and shifted around her warm and fluffy bed. The alarm meowed bigger, harder, stronger, and even with the pillows pulled up over her ears, Violet couldn’t muffle the furry-feline siren. Fine. She turned towards the noise maker and saw the clock displaying nine am. She had about an hour left before her so-called ‘secret’ appointment with Stax, and although every bone in her body wanted to fall back into bed and rest, she dragged herself out of her comfort nest. She waddled towards the shower and let the cocoa-flavored heat stream massage her skin.
Because, cocoa.
Violet’s mind woke up, and with it, thousands of worrying thoughts that plagued her existence.
Was Stax about to fire her?
It was useless. Her mind continued fabricating horror scenarios.
Violet dried herself off, slipped into her thong, put on a black tank top and gave herself the basic makeup treatment. It was connecting time. With the eScroll wrapped around her wrist, she called up Stax who picked up the second she beeped.
“You want to speak with me?”
Roman Stax’ filmstar looks brimmed in glorious 3D. His smile was so perfect it seemed as if a crew of smile-o-logists did nothing but teach him how to stretch his mouth muscles twenty-four seven.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about it in private. Let’s meet up.”
“Where?”
“In my office on the top floor.”
Violet nodded. His office? She’s never seen it, except for that snapshot during the Blogbuster premiere. But even then, the image was blurred out to maintain secrecy. Why would he allow her to see it now?
“Don’t worry,” Roman said, ”I’m not going to eat you alive. I have a reputation to lose.”
He grinned like a little boy who had some trick up his magic wand. But Violet couldn’t wait to find out what he cooked up.
“How do I get to you?”
“Take the elevator, I will unlock the top floor for you.”
Violet nodded.
“See you in twenty minutes,” Roman said and ended the call.
Violet tiptoed to her closet and dug through the techwear she brought. Classic first world problem — what to wear?
She wanted to go for something tech-less, something that didn’t distract from her performance. But it couldn’t be too sexy either, or else she came across as desperate. She needed to find the golden middle ground. So she settled for her party dress with the two-in-one combination of a lined sheer top, featuring a long V neck and short sleeves. She mixed both elegant, white stripes with the dimmed, dark crimson color. A plain, yet elegant style that accentuated her shape without screaming ‘look at me, I’m so sexy.’
Less is more — très bien.
And after a bit of makeup, she left her suite and proceeded along the floor towards the elevator. She had hoped she would arrive undetected, because any vlogger interaction would result in questions, which she couldn’t, wouldn’t answer. She hastened to the elevator and waited for its arrival. Ding, the door opened up and revealed the one and only Elli Mental inside. Talking about bad timing, freckleface was the queen of it. Violet shivered.
Not here, not now.
“Hey, good morning my dark shine,” Elli said.
“Why are you up at this time?”
“Not much of a long sleeper. I also want to be fully awake for the tutorial later on. What about you?”
“I need to get out for some private time,” Violet said.
“Then why don’t you stay in your room?”
“I need to change my surroundings, I can’t stand staring at my ceiling anymore.”
Elli nodded.
“So, so.”
The elevator lifted to another level. Elli moved closer to Violet, violating her private space yet again. She noticed it. Sister shtick, part III.
“You know, we could rejuvenate in the cafeteria and sip some hot cocoa. I heard you go OCD over that sugar liquid.”
“Sounds tempting, but I really need some quality time for myself.”
Silence.
Violet swallowed when the elev
ator hit the next floor. The doors opened up and Elli walked out. She took two steps forward.
“Are you sure? My offer’s still open — we’d have a fine talk between girls.”
She reached out her hand, the way one waves after seeing a puppy, albeit a cute one. Violet shook her head.
“Too bad,” Elli said.
She gave Violet the chill shoulder and marched away in small steps. The elevator doors shut. Just before they closed, Violet saw Elli in the distance, midway through the floor. She put her index finger below her eye and blinked.
The door closed.
Violet cringed.
What the heck was that gesture supposed to mean?
67
Didn’t matter, Elli wasn’t a priority at this point.
Stax was.
Violet took a deep breath, checked the floor numbers on the elevator display. She couldn’t find the top floor of Stax’ office, not even a hint of indication. But when she hovered over the touch menu, the pixels assembled and put Roman Stax’ office on the display. Timing. The pixels glowed, and the elevator lifted again at a higher speed. One exhalation later, Violet felt the elevator’s motion stopping and watched the doors slide open. She walked out, entered the crimson-carpeted office. At the end of it stood a framed door with a silver Stax insignia, and his company logo.
“You may enter now,” the door said in her sterile computer voice.
Violet stood still, straightened her attire, fixed her hair, breathed in, breathed out and gulped down her gum. The door opened, Violet entered the realm of Roman Stax.
And what a realm it was.
Romanic shaped pillars, six on each side, a red carpet sandwiched in-between, a ceiling so tall it seemed to long for the sky. And at the end, an oversized desk with premium, dark wood. Behind that a wall framed with the biggest screens Violet had ever seen in her life. Roman Stax posed on his throne and stood up. His shiny smile cut the air.
“Welcome to my world.”
Violet walked towards him. She sat on the lone chair positioned in front of his megalo desk.
“Thanx.”
Roman sat down after her and leaned over his throne with both of his hands intertwined.
It felt like a job interview already.
“When you accepted my offer, I was doing the happy dance.”
Violet tried to smile. It was hard to picture Roman Stax doing a happy dance.
“Seriously, I must say I’m impressed by your performance in the show so far. I mean, the ad hoc fashion show? So much better than the rubbish I attended so far.”
He clapped his hands melodrama style.
“It was the natural thing to do, Mr. Stax.”
“Ah, don’t call me Stax, call me Roman.”
“Ok, Mr. Roman, eh, Roman.”
“That’s better.”
He leaned further over his throne and inspected Violet from above.
“I like your outfit. Not as brash as the techwear you carry in front of the Vorbs, but more elegant. Minimalist with a dash of chic. You really have an exquisite taste for fashion.”
“Thanx. It’s my living, after all.”
“Indeed.”
Awkward silence ensued.
“Here’s the deal. I like you, and so do millions of viewers out there. Your fanbase is cooking, and your team, although it lost, made a substantial amount of Vorb sales. But you know what — the Blogbuster is damn expensive, and I’d like to make even more Vorb sales to cope with the losses. And what could be a better way to sell the Vorb brand than to hire a sexy, go-getting spokesperson.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Violet said.
He bowed forward.
“Violet, I want you to be the official face for the Vorb sales campaign. At least during the time of the Blogbuster — while it’s still trending and attracting major eyeballs. We have a couple of commercials in the planning, which we’ll quickly shoot in-between the duration of the show.”
Vorb endorsement.
Stax’ promotional model.
Sell, sell, sell.
Every marketing tag a stab to her heart. She already cringed all the way through the first mission. The only thing she wanted to sell in the world was her techwear.
She swallowed twice. Roman picked up on it.
“Now I’ve heard that you’re not too fond of promoting other people’s products, so I want to sweeten the deal. How about a five hundred thousand credit contract?”
A half million credits. Violet flinched her eyelids in rapid succession. A five and five zeros.
Enough money to take care of her debt. Easy money within grasp.
She said,
“I’m not so sure. Wouldn’t it look like I’m selling out?”
Stax smiled.
“Selling out is such an undervalued term. You’re not selling out, you’re cashing in. This isn’t planet Marx, we actually have to make a living, right? Besides, we should get rid of the notion that artists like you should work for free. You bring value to the world, Violet, and you should get compensated for it.”
Violet nodded in slowmo. Stax was a clever talker when he set his mind to it. Every sentence seemed like a well-written tagline poised to sell something.
Violet broke the eye contact. A hundred what-if questions rose up. All of which were overshadowed by one main thought, debt.
So she said,
“In case I was interested, when could I expect the money?”
Roman smiled.
“Exactly one day after the Blogbuster finishes.”
The catch, it had to come.
“After the Blogbuster? But what about the general fifty percent upfront?”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You know, this deal we’re doing right now will be public as soon as people see the commercials with you. I don’t want folks to say we’re favoring you. I don’t want them to think the game is rigged.”
He grinned.
“I also don’t want you to lose your fire for the time being. If you get an advance now, you may lose your drive to finish the Blogbuster. And that would be such a loss for all of us.”
Roman Stax grinned to the max. Violet sank deeper into her chair. The Blogbuster was going on for at least another three weeks. Merde.
Stax chimed in.
“I want to clarify how good this deal is for you. Even if you lose the Blogbuster, you’ll still get half a million credits promotion money. All you have to do is stay on the show as long as you can.”
“But I would have to promote your Vorb.”
“You’ll become the official public spokesperson for the Vorb.”
Violet closed her eyes. She didn’t like those snowball cams in the first place. What would her community say? That she was a sell-out?
Sucking up to the ‘man’?
But on the other hand, the money…and the lawyer’s fees…and the lawsuit…
Roman Stax watched her with apparent gleam.
“Whether you win or lose the Blogbuster, you see half a million credits on your account. I call that win-win.”
Roman bowed forward and reached out his hand.
“Deal or not?”
Violet hesitated.
Pro and con thoughts shot through her mind, battling each other till every argument ran out of ammo. She closed her eyes, bent over the dark wooden desk and shook Stax’ hand.
“Deal.”
Roman shone.
“Fab, I’ll sent you the contract.”
Pause.
“I can already imagine your pretty face and fierce style booming in our commercial. Violet Gear, famed fashion vlogger, promoting the coolest gadget known to the galaxy. Wah, what a combo.”
Violet couldn’t tell whether he was faking his excitement or whether he really lightened up.
“You’ve made the right decision.”
He stood up and straightened his glossy jacket.
“Now if you excuse me, I’ve got some planning in the process. My ToDo list skyrockets t
oday.”
“Of course,” Violet said as she got up from her chair. She turned around and walked back to the humungous door on the other side of Stax’ office hall. With every step she took, she felt as if she just sealed a deal with the digital devil, but the means justified the end, didn’t they? How else was she supposed to pay for that charge? No, it was the right choice, the logical one. On her way out, she saw a group of suits walking in. They marched like clones, looked like clones, especially with their dark shades on.
None of her biz, she thought, so she walked out, not worrying about them at all.
68
Roman watched the sliding doors close and waited for a moment. Violet Gear, he thought, who knew you could become such a vital part of my plan? He smiled, picked up his Himalaya Mountain Fresh Water and took a mighty gulp. If his number one choice failed, it was encouraging to know he had backup in stunning looks and style. But now he looked at the quartet of suits lining the front of his desk.
“Good day, Mr. Stax,” the tall one said.
“Gentlemen, let’s talk future,” Roman said.
His looked bright.
69
BBB, Bam’s sweet suite.
After answering his fan mails, all hundred fifty-one of them, Bam entered the cafeteria and treated himself with a Tandoori chicken rice dish and a papaya-mango shake to flush the meat down his gullet. He grabbed his plate and looked around the hall. Recognized a few members of the Blogbuster crew circling around Laci who seemed to crack out one joke after another. None of which were probably funny, but with her looks, no male seemed to mind. About ten meters away sat Trigger, all by himself. Bam decided to join him.
“Mind if I sit down?”
Trigger looked up from his eScroll.
“Sure.”
Bam nodded, placed his tray on the table and sat down opposite of Trigger.
“What are you doing?”
“Researching.”
“Let me guess, enemy analysis of me?”
Trigger smiled.
“No, I already did that. Way before I started the Blogbuster.”