Chapter 2: Red Carpet Reception

Moonlight poured through a wall of windows, mixing with the glow of a computer monitor. Seated across the room, dressed in only an undershirt and a pair of boxers, a young man watched the screen. His eyes held a little interest in the near-static figures displayed, while his ears listened intently. "Considering how well Team Satomi did in their first season, I'd say they have a definite chance to repeat. There upside is remarkable, and I'd favor them to win it again this year," the visage of a man of considerable age spoke, folding his hands atop the table he was seated behind.

"Is that your prediction, because if it is, it's a rather bold one, considering the pack behind them, chomping at the bit to take down the upstarts," a youthful woman responded sharply, casting an incredulous glance at the man.

"That may be true, but they certainly showed the world that they have the potential, having pushed the former league champs to the brink and then beating them," a second man, considerably younger than the first, defended, "But will they live up to that potential? And no one is even mentioning Sledge Mamma, or this year's newcomer: White Snow. It wouldn't surprise me, come year's end, if we had a logjam at the top of the rankings."

"You certainly can't expect those two veteran teams to lie down for a relatively green team again, or a repeat of last season's rookie success," came the woman's response.

"Well, that's what many of us were saying last year at this time, the vets didn't lie down, and look how it turned out," the elder man mentioned with a light chuckle.

"I guess we'll have to see how the pilots decide this on the track," Benjamin Bright declared with his usual exuberance. As the screen blinked off the distinct sound of a knuckle raping against glass echoed within the spacious room. Twisting around on his bed, he caught sight of a slender female standing outside his room, her hand resting against the window. "Crap," he blurted, nearly jumping from his mattress, feet tangling up in the thick blanket.

Slowly he regained his footing, kicking the mass of fabric aside as he dashed for his closet. Hanging from the closet door's knob was a pair of dress slacks, crisply draped over a wire hanger. In a hurried motion he snatched the pants from the door, yanking them from their hanger. Less than gracefully, he jumped into the finely tailored slacks, grimacing at the slightly snug fit. With pants buttoned, he jogged over to the door, allowing his guest entrance. "Sorry Fantine," he apologized sheepishly, waiting by the young woman long enough for the door to close before hurrying back to his open closet. "Takeshi," Fantine sighed, slightly displeased with her boyfriend's tardiness, "you should've already been ready. The limo is waiting in the driveway."

A simple white dress shirt covered Takeshi's torso, a scarlet tie wrapped around his neck as he stepped from his closet. Slipping the black coat over his shoulders, he completed the suit, his polished shoes reflecting the artificial light. "You should really comb your hair," Fantine urged gently as she moved close to Takeshi, straightening his tie and flattening his jacket's lapels.

"I tried," Takeshi answered with a lopsided grin.

"You look fine," she reassured with a smile, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "Come on, we can't keep them waiting all night."

"Right," Takeshi agreed, lacing his arm around Fantine's and guiding her towards the awaiting car.

---

The Perks Center, the city's convention center was abuzz with activity. A steady stream of limousines flowed past the building's front entrance, each dropping a notable figure or two onto a red carpet. Swarms of fans and photographers alike lined the walkway, shouting out names or snapping various pictures. The entire area glowed with popping flashbulbs and swaying spotlights, a beacon visible for quite a distance.

A single white limousine pulled into place, waiting ushers moving for the car's door, opening it to reveal a slender blonde female. Gracefully exiting the car, she stepped aside, allowing the crowd to view the league's MVP. Deafening roars broke out, flashbulbs turning into a blinding display of light as the young man stepped from the car. His usual grin grew wider as he scanned the raging throng, squinting into the flood of illumination. Catching a sideways glance from behind his girlfriend's sunglasses, he stepped to her side, once again looping her arm through hers. Waving to the crowd both strolled down the carpet, Takeshi's face alight with glee. The building's double doors opened with the assistance of a set of ushers, the couple moving from the frantic outside. A moment's reprieve from the overbearing lights and sounds was broken by a small group of reporters firing their questions at the pair from all directions. "I'll catch up with you later. Enjoy yourself now," Fantine assured, excusing herself, a small pack of reporters trailing her.

Alone the eager horde pressed in, their recorders held to Takeshi's face to catch his every word. "How do you feel about Satomi's chances to repeat?"

"How serious is your relationship with Fantine?"

"What's your off-season been like?"

"What are your thoughts on this year's rookies?"

Wide-eyed, Takeshi lifted both his hands in hopes of stopping, or at least slowing, the onslaught of questions. Surprisingly, the bombardment ceased, leaving Takeshi slightly shocked. "So, um, yeah," he grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I have no idea what any of you just said, so I'm just going to…" his voice trailed off as he darted through the circle of reporters into the adjoining ballroom.

Glancing around the spacious room and finding it packed, Takeshi grimaced, 'there's no way I'm finding Fantine in this crowd.'

"Dodging the wolves I see," a recognizable voice observed as a stocky man stepped into Takeshi's view.

"Oh, hey Mark," Takeshi greeted his team's mechanic. "Yeah. It's like they have a nose for me or something."

The response drew a hearty chuckle from the elder man, "Something like that."

The drone of the crowd grew in the wake of the shared greetings, Mark taking a sip from a small glass as both let their eyes wander. Quickly glancing at his watch, the older of the two returned his attention to Takeshi, "Well I need to find Miss Satomi before things start. She wants me to meet someone."

With a simple nod, Mark left, leaving Takeshi alone in the crowded room. Takeshi slid his hands into his pockets; silently relishing the peace that was surprisingly afforded him. Deciding that the beginning of the actual ceremony was nearing, the league MVP began a leisurely stroll towards the backstage door. As he weaved through the crowd all manor of praise rolled in from all directions, his head nodding in acknowledgement to each comment. The door neared slowly, Takeshi stopping as he reached it. Out of the corner of his eye, Takeshi caught sight of the team's owner. Her face beamed with laughter, but that wasn't what drew Takeshi's interest. A man had an arm draped over her shoulder; she had an arm around his waist, and a hand resting gently on his chest. 'Well that's new,' he thought with a raised eyebrow, pushing open the metal barrier.

The open door revealed an adequately sized passage, recessed lights offering dim illumination. Several fellow pilots populated the space, some chattering with their counterparts, while the others kept to themselves. "Takeshi," a young, male voice greeted flatly, garnering Takeshi's attention.

"River," Takeshi answered back, looking at the teen leaning against the near wall.

"Hope you got the message."

"Message?" Takeshi asked quizzically, scratching his head, his eyes displaying his curiosity.

Silently swearing, River stepped from the wall, lowering his voice to a threatening level, "That I'm taking you down, no matter what."

"You can try."

"Oh, I'll do better than that," River snarled as he leaned in close, his eyes narrowed. "Count on it."

Unfazed, Takeshi felt a sense of excitement well up within him, a smirk coming over his lips as he responded, "I am."

To be continued…