“Yep.” I steal a glance at Clark, whose face is etched with concern.
“If you get lost, wing it. If it’s not working, we’ll start over. That’s the beauty of recorded versus live TV.”
“I’m great at ad-lib,” I say, rubbing my hands together.
Esto laughs and pats me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you take a breather in your dressing room. We’ll let you know when we’re ready for you. It shouldn’t be long.”
On my way to my personal space behind the curtains, I glance at the ornate gray marble tables they’re bringing into the room. Each table seats two people and they’re positioned in a semi-circle around a small circular arena in front of the stairs leading up to my stupid throne. Screens have come down from the ceiling in the back two corners, facing the chairs so clips can be shown. That’s one of the few things they actually told me.
The floor is black marble flecked with silver accents and two levels of stone steps lead upward on either side of the room. Black-and-red tapestries drape the walls and perfectly positioned lights on the floor cast a glow on them for added drama.
I shake my head and continue into my dressing area, passing the control room where Esto will be situated for most of the filming.
I flop down on the couch and lay back, closing my eyes. I can’t believe I’m so tired. All I did today was stand around. Having to sit down and smile on command pushed me over the edge into exhaustion. Such a tough day. I have to laugh at myself.
“Do you want me to run your lines with you?”
I open my right eye to see Clark impatiently standing over me.
“What I’d like is a moment to myself.”
“I think it would be a good idea to go over the—”
“One solitary moment is all I ask. If you want me to play the part, then you need to give this to me.”
I close my eyes, waiting for a reply. Nothing. When it’s been quiet for more than a few seconds, I squint and am relieved to find I’m alone.
Relaxing into the soft cushion, I take in my private escape. It’s hard to believe this room, the control room, and the forum are all new additions to my house. I’ll be interested to see how they fix this up to make it usable. I don’t want an arena in my house forever, although I am a fan of the control room. We might be able to make that usable for the security team after the show is over.
I’m also a huge fan of the secret access door they built behind the bookshelf in this room. It contains a stairwell that takes me directly to my bedroom in the west wing. The only people who know it exists are me, Dawson, and Esto. I may ask to keep it. It’s very Harry Potter-like. What’s even better is that I can lock it if I choose. Then no one can use it unless they have my key.
Starting to doze off as I imagine myself hiding from Clark in the stairwell, I decide I’d better get up and move around. Falling asleep for a few minutes will make me groggy. If I’m going to nap with any benefit, it’s got to be at least an hour. Two is even better.
I glance at the monitors in the corner of the room. I’m thankful I get to see what the production crew sees. It’s my house, after all. They’ve mounted cameras in almost every room except for my wing and the bathrooms. I can not only see each room, but I can zoom in and out on anyone or anything. They’re recording everything everyone does at all times, in case something happens they can use when they put it all together at the end.
Letting out a yawn, I sit down in front of the display and stare left to right at the various screens. I see the kitchen, the forum, the diary room, and even the doors outside the forum. I do a double take at the screen. There she is. I’d recognize that tight ponytail anywhere. I move the mouse and zoom the camera in on her. Her pants aren’t form-fitting, but I can still tell she has a great body. I wonder what she’d look like in jeans. Those ugly gray pants are the same ones she was wearing in the interview and I’m praying she doesn’t wear them every day.
A dark-haired girl leans on the wall next to her. I zoom over to her. I should know her. I remember JP really pushed for her, but I can’t remember her name. I’m horrible with names unless they’re unusual or the person makes an impression on me. I was even worse when I was younger. At least I’ve made progress.
I open the drawer and pull out my information binder, flipping through the pages until I find her. I flick my finger on her page. Tori. That’s it. I zoom in on her and holy shit. She’s got a nice rack. I consider myself somewhat of a breast connoisseur, having seen and felt many a boob in my lifetime. I’d guess she’s a DD. I zoom in on Reed’s chest too. Hmm, I wish her shirt was a little tighter. It’s hard to tell from this angle. It could be a pushup bra. I’m thinking B, maybe almost a C.
A knock on my door makes me jump. I zoom out as quickly as possible and spin around in my seat as Dawson opens the door. “Five minutes,” he says.
“Great. Cool. Awesome,” I say, giving him a thumbs-up and overly big smile. He stares at me as if I have two heads and slowly closes the door. I shake my head and huff out an embarrassed breath. I feel like I’m twelve again and got caught with my dick in one hand and my mom’s Cosmo in the other.
I should be ashamed of myself. One of these girls could end up working for me. I vow I’ll only use the cameras for professional reasons from here on out.
Even though I’ve been around, I was raised to treat women better than that and I’m almost disgusted with myself. I respect the hell out of Natalie, but she’s different. Sometimes I have to remind myself to have better manners with the women I meet on the road. I tend to lose reverence when a female throws herself at me. Up until a few months ago, I didn’t respect any girl I slept with, but something’s changed. I turned down four hot women on the mini-tour. I’d be worried if I still didn’t have an erection every morning.
But these women aren’t here for that and it’s not something I should worry about or even hope for. Boundaries, I tell myself. I’ve never had a female protection officer. It’s a new experience for me. I need to stop gawking at them, especially Reed. I turn in my seat to see her again. Why can’t I stop staring? I need to focus. I’m here to make myself look better, not worse. I click on the camera for the arena and push the button for sound as Esto counts down the filming.
“Ready in three… two… one.”
Bryce opens the doors and the contestants search for their assigned positions. I lean forward and watch as they move about the room and sit at the table with their name.
Bryce slowly walks toward the outer edge, speaking as he moves. “Welcome to The Praetorian. As you can see, we’ve gathered our contestants in the forum around the arena. The forum is a special area. It’s where we’ll meet daily to find out the challenge for the day, and where we’ll come at night to hear the final judgments.”
Bryce steps in front of the tapestries as they ripple lightly. “If you’re just joining us, and haven’t heard the word before, you might be asking yourself, what is a Praetorian? In ancient Rome, the Praetorian was a special guard, part of an elite group of trained soldiers that provided protection for the emperor. In this case, Roman Creed is our emperor, and these ladies and gentlemen”—he motions to his right—“are our elite professionals, vying for the role of Praetorian, or in layman’s terms, Executive Protection Officer. Better known as a bodyguard.”
He strolls to the center of the room and the camera moves with him. I’ve got to say, Esto knows what he’s doing, and Bryce works the camera better than anyone I’ve ever seen.
“Before we get into too many details, I think it’s time we introduce you to the man in charge. The emperor of rock and metal, Roman Creed.”
“In charge.” I snicker. In charge of what? I’m simply another pawn in the game. Yeah, I get a vote, but I’m definitely not running the show, even though that’s how they want it to look.
Bryce steps aside, and the lights dim as the video plays on the screens. Clark and Esto put it together. They cleared it with me beforehand, but I thought it was a little much. I watch it again a
nyway, cringing as it begins.
“Two-time Grammy-award winning artist, Roman Creed, is a rock and metal legend. With a distinct voice and original sound, Creed got his start in the music industry at the ripe young age of eighteen. While playing in a local bar, he was discovered by Loren Mars of Seamore Productions, and shortly thereafter signed to their record label. With his longtime drummer, Shawn Freeman, better known as Shaw, by his side, Core Damage, his high school band, climbed the charts with their debut hit “Like No Other.” Under lead singer, guitarist, and composer Creed’s direction, Core Damage went multi-platinum for the third time with the release of their third album and followed suit with their fourth, fifth, and sixth.
“Creed is known for his tough persona, both on and off the stage. But in his personal life, his philanthropy and generous charitable donations have changed the lives of young men and women all over the world. Through his music outreach program, I’ve Got the Music In Me, Creed has helped schools all over North America keep their music programs alive and flourishing in times where budgetary concerns threaten the arts. Creed credits his high school music teachers for encouraging him to pursue his dreams. ‘Music is life. Even in the most desperate of times, words and a melody can help us move forward, give us hope, and inspire us when nothing else can. People don’t want music, they need it.’
“By continually redefining his sound, Roman Creed manages to be the link between new blood and old metal. Creed’s craftsmanship as a songwriter has made him a renowned global celebrity, and he’s just getting started.”
There’s a knock at the door, but I ignore it. Pigtails rounds the corner and attempts to powder my nose again. I miss the end of the video as she dabs and smudges. It’s almost time.
“When we come back, we’ll meet the man himself, the one and only, Roman Creed. Stay with us on the show where sometimes, the stronger you are, the harder you fall. We’ll be right back with more from The Praetorian.”
“Cut.” Esto’s voice is louder than usual over the speakers. “Let’s take five.”
The contestants stand and stretch. I watch them on the monitors after Pigtails leaves. They’re not allowed to speak to each other yet. There’s a lot of eye contact and nonverbal communication, though. It’ll be interesting when they finally get to know each other. If nothing else, I hope there’s a fight or two. Considering who they chose, it’s almost guaranteed.
After a quick bathroom break, I get back in time to hear Esto say, “Okay, people, back to your seats. I know it’s been a long day, but let’s keep energy, people. The show must go on.”
I close my eyes for a moment and feel an unusual pit in my stomach. It’s not nerves. I haven’t felt this way since…
“We’re filming again in five… four… three… two…”
“Welcome back,” Bryce begins. “Before the break, we watched a video clip, detailing the extensive career of our principal. It’s time you met him. Ladies and gentlemen, please help me welcome rock legend, Roman Creed.”
Stepping out from the shadows, “Returns a King” with the base plays briefly and I notice the contestants have risen to their feet and are clapping. I’d like to think they did it of their own accord, but I’m certain Clark had something to do with it.
The first person I see is Reed, probably because she’s the only one who made it in whose interview I saw live. Or maybe it’s because I’m drawn to her. Wow, she’s even more beautiful up close. I fight to remember my lines. Good thing word memorization comes easily to me and I rarely buckle under pressure. “Thank you. That’s not necessary. Please sit down,” I say.
When everyone takes their seats, I move into position. They wanted me to stand in front of the throne, but I said hell no. “While I appreciate the introduction, I’m certain it portrayed me in too favorable a light. As my manager, staff, and current security can tell you, being a musician is not all glitz and glamour. There are days my staff spends countless hours waiting for me to simply get out of bed.”
They chuckle, which surprises me. It wasn’t a joke. “I’m sure all of you are familiar with the news reports. I have a reputation for being… difficult. I can tell you this. I’m “difficult” when rules are broken and people don’t do what they’re supposed to do.”
I move to my second mark. The camera follows me. “Case in point, after a recent unfortunate event that jeopardized my security and that of everyone around me, I was forced to make some difficult changes. Without going into too much detail, the most important part of this change brought me here to you.
“People assume all bodyguards are large, intimidating men who stand out in a crowd and create fear in the hearts of anyone in their path. While sometimes that’s exactly what you need, most of the time I’m looking for someone who has a keen eye, a unique skillset, and most importantly, blends in. The most effective security is someone who doesn’t look like a bodyguard. They don’t stand out as anyone in particular. The key in this business is what’s up here.” I tap my head briefly and scowl to drive in how serious I am. “If you don’t have the capacity to notice details, your size means nothing at all.”
I walk across the room to my mark on the opposite side and make eye contact with Reed. She’s watching me closely. I can’t help myself. I stop in front of her table. She’s sitting next to Cedric. I could never forget him or his recorded interview.
I realize I should go to my mark, but I don’t. I feel some sort of pull to this woman. What the fuck?
“I need a professional who understands the importance of prevention,” I continue. “I’d rather have one hundred prevented incidents over one non-dangerous scare due to lack of preparation.”
Bryce is motioning to me with his head. I know he’s wearing an earpiece, unlike me. I guarantee someone in the back isn’t happy I missed my placement with that line, but it was worth it to see the tiny freckle on her right cheek. I’ll be drawing her face later tonight and that detail changes everything.
I move to my mark and she glances down. Have I affected her? I sure hope so. I remind myself of my promise. This is work.
I continue with my lines. “Tomorrow we’ll begin a series of challenges. Each one will focus on a different area of personal security. I want to see what you know and what you can do. I’ll introduce you to my advisor, who’ll be instructing you on each challenge, personally designed by our team.
“We know what we want to see. This isn’t a game to me or to any of us, even though it’s set up that way. In the real world, there are no do-overs. There will be music. There will be laughs. I know how to have fun. But in my line of work, it’s easy for my staff to get caught up in it and lose direction. No matter what’s going on around you, stay focused.
“My goal is to find someone I can trust with my life. I’m always watching, observing behavior, and noting the good and the bad, the professional and the unprofessional. If you work for me, every move you make reflects on me. I don’t need help standing out or getting in the papers. I can do that on my own. The point is, I’m looking for more than a bodyguard. I’m looking for a Praetorian.”
I hope that line wasn’t as cheesy as it felt leaving my mouth.
Bryce moves over to stand next to me. “Thank you for your time tonight, Roman.”
I’m supposed to nod my head, and deliver my final line in front of the throne, but there’s more I want to say. I linger for a moment, thinking, and Bryce seems concerned. He’s going to have his hands full with me. I’m probably the most unpredictable person he’s ever had to work with. I put my thoughts together quickly. “Thank you, Bryce. And thank you all for being here. We really did select the cream of the crop and I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you.”
I make eye contact with each contestant except for Reed. I’ve probably set her on edge enough for tonight. I bounce up the stairs and stand in front of the throne. “Goodnight, and remember: keep your eyes open and your head clear. Not everything is as it appears.”
I exit, shaking my head
all the way back to my room. Dawson is waiting for me and opens the door. I don’t say anything to him, but he eyes me as if he knows I’m off. He doesn’t say anything. It’s one of the reasons I like having him around. He knows when to give me space.
Something’s bothering me and I can’t put my finger on it. I sit at the desk and listen as Bryce continues.
“Each of you will have one-on-one as well as group time with Roman, where he’ll get to know more about you, your skills, and your experiences. He’ll be observing every challenge, watching every move you make, and listening to everything you say. While each challenge will be judged individually, the way you handle yourselves will have an impact on whether or not you stay in the game.”
He pauses and turns to the camera. “While you at home have been watching the interviews, our contestants have never spoken with each other. It’s time for them to meet their competition… right after this commercial break. Stay tuned, you never know what’s going to happen next, on… The Praetorian.”
“And cut,” Esto says overhead.
Bryce makes a beeline backstage. Observing the path he takes on the monitors, I’m guessing he’s coming to speak to me. I wonder if he’s angry with me for adding lines. A few seconds later, Dawson knocks and says, “Bryce Donahue.” I was right.
“Let him in,” I say, turning in my chair to face him and preparing to explain myself.
“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say great job back there.”
I’m taken aback. It’s not what I expected to hear. I must be off my game tonight. “I hope I didn’t sound as dumb as I felt.”
“Not at all. You were authoritative and discerning. I could tell you made them nervous.”
I huff. I’m pretty certain I failed to make army officers and cops nervous with a look, but I’m sure he means well and since I like him, I let it slide. “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you in a few minutes, but in case I don’t get to say it, have a good night, Roman.”
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