It was a new morning and the start of a day's work for many. On a jungle island, where the renting price is cheap, was the home of The Cavendish Show. The audience was abuzz as it watched the stage being set-up with huge lights and crew members testing the sound. All of them had eagerly paid to get into the building and plenty were planning on savouring today's events. However, for the show to truly start, the popular presenter needed to make an appearance.
The presenter's private dress room was small and cluttered with dozens of outfits. Mirrors covered every inch of the warm walls. Usually he found it refreshing seeing his own beauty everywhere he looked but at this moment Cavendish only saw irritation in his face. He scowled even more at his own reflection.
"Finish this DNA test within half an hour?" Cavendish repeated. "My first show took a whole afternoon and three days of partying!"
The woman standing behind him looked as cool as usual. With a twist of her arms, a new pair of hands appeared out of the make-up station and smacked powder onto his face. The large amount caused a misty cloud to form that made the presenter cough. According to her, it must've not seemed like an unreasonable demand.
"And your last show took nearly three hours of discussing the meaning of life instead of your guest's issues. Our next set of guests arrived an hour late but your tardiness kept even them waiting. We have too many people lining the door for our service. We can't keep spending days on each person–"
"The Cavendish Show is about quality, not quantity," he said, choosing to ignore the twitch in her eye by continuing, "And I will give the guests who sit in front of me the best quality of therapy I can provide."
Just because he was giving some guests a large quantity of his time, didn't mean it wasn't quality. Cavendish was adamant. Those analytical moments talking about the sea god were essential last time.
Robin shook her head. "You're just the face of the show. We have people in the background to give trained therapy…"
Robin was still talking about something but Cavendish honestly didn't register a single word. For a moment, his heart stopped beating. The producer had made it all sound so obvious and clear but this was life-changing news to him. Finally the heavy scowl left his face as he treasured those words. When she had first arrived, Cavendish was worried about the change she presented him with and he didn't want it. Yet, half-listening to her words had taught him something. To think, all along, he had been doing his job wrong
"I'm the face of the show?" he asked, his face beaming.
Robin's eyebrows raised as Cavendish looked ready to hang on her every word. She knew that she didn't have long to respond before he filled the room with his ego.
"Yes," she started sternly, "but Cavendish remember—"
"Did you hear that Garry? I'm the face of The Cavendish Show!"
The cameraman timidly appeared behind his equipment with a smile. "Sure did boss."
Cavendish spun around in his chair, looking at all his dashing reflections and striking poses throughout his laughter. It was like he just drank his favourite smoothie before going out to a beach party. He knew it in his gut that today was going to be big and he was going to be way more popular on TV by tomorrow. This show was going to be great!
Somehow through his ecstasy, the presenter noticed his producer's confusion. He linked it to him knowing Garry's name. Honestly, what was so strange about him hanging out with the cameraman?
"Cavendish, listen." Robin caught his chin and attention by using her devil fruit powers. "Only spend half an hour at most with these guests. If you don't, you're no longer the face of the show. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Cavendish automatically answered. He wasn't intimidated at all by the ultimatum. He had lived the life of a pirate, a captain of his very own ship. Sometimes dangerous decisions didn't sink in too quickly.
Robin sighed at his confidence. Cavendish was not an easy man to boss around. She knew it the day she agreed to him being the host. He had helped to make the show a success and he deserved credit. Robin usually left him to it, much preferring things to sort themselves out. However, today she had decided to deal with his excessive show time. Was it really necessary?
"It's unlike you to visit the show, even if you are its producer," Cavendish remarked, fiddling with his hair and wondering whether to tie it up or not. "Is it because one of your fellow crew mates will be a guest today?"
She graced him a small smile. "Of course not," she replied, helping braid Cavendish's hair. "Remember when no one showed up for Usopp's lie detector?"
"Augh…" the presenter groaned, pressing a hand against his temple. "…don't remind me…" Every day he left his job with a smile stuck on his face; that day was the exception.
The day Cavendish found out there were much worse lies out there than Santa being real was hard to watch for many. Robin on the other hand felt it was her favourite episode. She tried to hold in her laughter at seeing her companion's tortured expression. "Sorry. I assure you, I'm just visiting to deal with our queueing crisis. I have no hidden intentions."
"Sure," Cavendish sighed, unconvinced. Were people lining their doors really that big of a problem? At least she styled his hair nicely. He'd forgive her and not declare any need for a lie detector test. "Well crisis dealt with. I suppose it's time to reacquaint myself with my audience."
"Actually," Robin paused, opening the door for him. "You should just start the show right away. To save time."
But talking to the audience was his favourite part! Especially before the show starts, when they can just talk about him. Perhaps some people, like Straw Hat, could be impolite and not know where they are but recently the number of Cavendish fangirls were growing. How could he leave them hanging dry? He was desperate to hear their voices and affection.
"You can interact with them at convenient times in the middle of the show and during the break as long as you finish announcing the DNA test results within the 30 minutes," Robin pointed out, heading towards the secret passageway that would eventually lead her to the audience's seats. She loved the mystery producer rumours and was keen not to give the public any clues while doing her job. It was a dangerous game of hide and seek. Something Cavendish knew he could not pull off.
He pouted, he grumbled and he begrudgingly crossed his arms when she wished him good luck. He didn't want to ignore the audience's cries and rush his work at all but at the end of the day Robin was the woman who changed his life. She gave him the job he loved and she could take it away. Reluctant or not, he'd have to follow her lead.