Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Seth
WHEN TIM APPROACHES, I know something isn’t right.
He’s grimacing and clutching his phone to his chest. I glance up from the job application I was reviewing as Tim leaves the practice room and his band and enters the tiny adjoining room where I’ve been sitting. Strictly speaking, I don’t need to be here, but it was the surest way I could think of of getting myself to review the stack of applications waiting for me.
I’m not as upset about the interruption as I should be. Reviewing applications for hours on end has left my eyes glassy and head fuzzy. Nearby, The Ten Hours have been working through some new music. Or so I presume. I don’t pay much attention to the fame and glamour portion of this. I’m just the security guy. Plus, the thick walls have insulated me from most of the sound they’re making in the other room.
“Hey,” Tim says, shifting from foot to foot. His smattering of freckles and hunched posture makes him seem younger than he actually is. We’re pretty close in age, being in our mid 20s, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at us. “So, Baptism Emperor is kind of having a situation.”
I heave a sigh. Baptism Emperor has become my unofficial responsibility ever since the tour that launched them into stardom. I took care of both bands during the tour, but it was easier when they all had to be in the same places at the same times. Now, the two bands have scattered to their respective studios and lives and homes in Seattle, and I’m technically only working for The Ten Hours. I’ve told Emmett and Tim and Jacob and anyone who will listen that Baptism Emperor needs their own crew, but so far they haven’t listened to me. Baptism Emperor themselves have been particularly stubborn, insisting over and over that the buzz will die down any day now and they’ll go back to their regular lives. I don’t know how to break it to them that their regular lives don’t exist anymore. This is their lives now, the music and the fame and the press and everything that comes with that.
Their stubbornness hasn’t stopped me trying. Hence the stack of applications scattered around me as I slouch on a beat up couch. I figured that if Baptism Emperor wouldn’t set up a security team themselves, I’d do it for them. We could call it an expansion of The Ten Hours’ crew if we needed to, as long as it gets Jacob and the others some kind of protection. It’s a matter of time before a member of the press or a fan takes things too far, and someone gets hurt. The whole world wants a piece of these guys.
Especially…
An image of Baptism Emperor’s frontman flashes through my mind. I brush it aside like I’m swatting away a fly. It’s not like everyone can’t see that the wavy-haired, hazel-eyed, dimpled frontman is incredibly popular. Jacob is charming and fit, with warm brown skin and an even warmer smile. He could melt a glacier by smiling at it. It’s no wonder the press is all over him. That observation certainly isn’t unique to me.
Which is why he and his band need security. Their own security. Dedicated security. But I suppose it’s a bit late for that if Tim is coming to me looking like a startled cat.
“What’s going on?” I say.
Tim explains the situation swiftly. I nod and start collecting my papers before he even finishes.
“Tell them I can get there in ten minutes,” I say. “Not sure I can get anyone else there, but it should be enough to get them out of there.”
Tim sighs with relief. “Thanks so much, Seth. You’re the best.”
I shrug. I’m not really the best. I’ve never been the best at anything in my entire life. I’m just a big guy who didn’t have any better job prospects and decided to put his bigness to work to pay the bills. It’s been a pretty easy gig so far, and I like getting to travel. I don’t know a thing about music, nor do I really care, but that seems to be a plus for the musicians I’ve worked for. The more the rest of the world treats them like golden idols to be placed on pedestals, the more they like that I don’t.
I pack up the applications in a folder and wave at the band. They wave or nod in response, going right back to their practice when Tim rejoins them. Being the more experienced band, they don’t get caught off-guard by the press as much as these new guys in Baptism Emperor. The Ten Hours know how to get to and from a practice with minimal disruption.
I really need to assemble that second security team.
I already have approval from their manager, Emmett. He tends to leave these sorts of decisions in my hands. As long as the guys are safe and nothing gets out that they don’t want out, the management company is happy.
“Just make sure it’s guys you trust,” Emmett said when I pitched him on a second security team. “We need to manage this first year of their career carefully.”
Problem is, I don’t know who to trust. I don’t have a big network of friends to call on. Even if I did, they wouldn’t necessarily be suited to this type of work. I’m not just big, though my height and muscular build certainly help in this line of work. I also have a military background. I joined after high school, mostly because I had no idea what to do with my life and couldn’t pay for college. They helped me get an education, for all the good that’s doing me, but I never enjoyed my time in the military and got out as quickly as I could. Afterward, I had no clue what to do with myself, until a friend told me that bands and celebrities often hire guys like me for their security teams. My military background helped a lot when I started hunting for jobs, and before I knew it I found myself in a line of work I didn’t even know existed.
Working with two bands at once definitely affords me job security. It’s not like the military where they force me to be or act a certain way either. No one cares as long as I’m doing my job. That’s definitely a plus.
The military was great in some ways, but in others it was … challenging. The policies might change, but culture often lags behind. They can say queer people are welcome, but when you’re a big white guy with a beard, people assume they can say certain things in front of you.
No one from those days knew I was gay. Most people I interact with now don’t know either. It’s pure chance that I landed a job with a band that has openly queer members. I probably could tell them, but why would I? They’re not my friends; they’re my clients. This relationship should remain strictly professional.
No matter what those dimples do to me.
I shake my head at myself as I get into my car and put the address of the practice space into my phone. Fortunately, Baptism Emperor isn’t far away, and it’s the middle of the day, so the traffic even in downtown Seattle isn’t too bad. I keep my mind focused on the task at hand as I drive, refusing to think of anything else. Baptism Emperor includes more than Jacob. The press is at least as interested in Keannen because of his relationship with Tim. I have five people to protect, not one.
That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway.
I almost miss my turn in my distraction. Once I reach the parking lot, I sit in my car, berating myself for my wandering thoughts. This is yet another reason I need a second security team. Clearly, I’m unfit to protect Baptism Emperor’s safety if I can’t be professional about it.
I run a hand through my normally tidy brown hair, rubbing my eyes under my glasses. It’s like all those years I spent hiding my identity while in the military are trying to burst out all at once, but I live in Seattle of all places. If this is something I need to get out of my system so I can do my job, I should go downtown on a Saturday night. It’s not like I don’t have options here. I’m getting hung up on Jacob because I’ve been forced into close proximity with him for the past several months between the tour and all this stuff. That’s all this is. It’s not real.
The shouts of muffled voices call me out of my thoughts. I’ll have to deal with my confusing feelings some other time, maybe in the shower after I get home. That’s the kind of place where these thoughts need to stay. Right now, Baptism Emperor needs me.
I’ve parked a good distance away so I can assess the situation without alerting the vultures. The second I get closer, they’ll realize what’s happening. I observe them in my rearview mirrors. A huge pack of them cluster around a single door in a building that would look like an abandoned warehouse if it weren’t for all this press attention. I could try getting the guys to go to a different exit, but there’s only one alternative that I know of, and it’s just off to the side. The press would catch wind of it the first time one of the guys used it, and then we’d be right back in the same situation.
No, if I’m going to get them through this, we’ll have to dive in headfirst.
I scroll through contacts until I find Keannen. Jacob is in there too, but Keannen is the safer choice. Besides, he’s the one who called for help in the first place.
“You here?” he says when he answers.
“I’m here. Just outside. You guys know of another exit?”
“Just the one on the side,” Keannen says.
I grimace, wishing I hadn’t been right about that. There was always a chance he knew of some sneaky third exit.
“I’m going to park close and force my way through,” I say. “You guys better be ready for me.”
“We will!”
It’s not Keannen that time. It must be Jacob, and Keannen must have me on speakerphone. Jacob’s voice comes through as clearly as Keannen’s, and I cringe at the way my body tries to react.
“Thanks for coming to our rescue,” Jacob adds.
“It’s my job,” I say through clenched teeth.
I hang up without anything further. I’ll lose focus if I stay on the phone, and this isn’t going to be fun or easy. That pack of press is as tight as a clenched fist. I’ll have to barrel my way through them with brute force, then do the same to get back out.
I heave a sigh as I inch my car closer, as close as I can get without running someone over. The move alerts the press, who start taking pictures of me. As though I’m anything worth paying attention to and not just a big dude in all black here to work security. I look like every bodyguard ever, except maybe the glasses. I can’t help being near-sighted, even if it doesn’t go with the whole tough guy vibe.
My car isn’t enormous, but it’s an SUV, big enough to get the job done. I unlock all the doors and leave the car in park but running so that the second I extract these guys we can get the hell out of here. With a deep breath, I step out of my car and into a scene of utter chaos.