"Smokescreen… I don't think I'll ever ask for something like this ever again, but do you think you could look me up online?"
"Huh? Why?"
It hadn't been too long since Smokescreen had picked up Roland from a shift that seemed to end earlier than the rookie had anticipated, with both him and the singer settling in for the afternoon. Well, it was mostly Smokescreen that was keen on relaxing in the human's apartment, but he'd noted without even needing to scan that Roland had been incredibly tense since leaving his shift. The Autobot had his guesses, but neither did he want to unnecessarily pry if it was something that happened at work or some sort of work drama that he couldn't really help his companion with.
Companion… should he just call Roland his charge at this point, if he was being honest with himself?
"There was this… well, two things happened. First, Francis showed me the video of my audition and it had… way more views than I expected. Like… millions and it's only been like… a little over a week since the premiere?"
He raised an eyebrow by way of his hologram, but he didn't follow up with a response. He nodded for the singer to continue.
"Second… there was this stranger that asked me for my autograph. Like, they recognized me and everything."
That both alarmed and confused the rookie a touch. Smokescreen was still working through the language of the human music industry, but wasn't this kind of exposure normally a good thing? He had noticed a pattern of Roland seeming to panic the more his success seemed to bear some fruit. He'd done enough research when not on patrols to understand the arduousness of humans making it into celebrity status as singers and musicians. From what Smokescreen understood, what was happening to his friend was… a fame that could well be on the verge of accelerating to a rather uncomfortably fast degree.
"Whoa… that's normally a good thing though, right? Like… people are asking you for your name, already? Just from that one appearance on the TV?"
In turn, he would see Roland nod with a somewhat worried look.
"I'll take a look for ya, little dude. Don't get too freaked out if it looks like I'm staring into space. Cybertronian tech is somethin' but I ain't like some of the tech prodigies."
"That's okay… take your time. If anything, it's the more time for me to prepare. You know how weird the human internet is at this point."
Smokescreen chuckled in agreement before willingly diving into it once more. The 'internet' as humans called it was a strange enigma to navigate due to, at least to his standards, a rather primitive technological infrastructure that was at first foreign to how he gathered information. It wasn't until he thought of the internet as being similar to how Cybertronians would access the libraries and caches of information in the Hall of Iacon that he could begin to tune how his own frequencies could access something that seemed both simple and complicated. Figuring it out carried its parks, given he was basically a living internet router for his companion.
From desperately wanting to be a legendary warrior to this. It was a fate he never expected, but it was a fate he wouldn't so easily let go of now.
The rookie then began the curious experiment of using his companion's name as a search query to see what would arise. Smokescreen wasn't sure what he was expecting, but there was far more on his Roland than what he envisioned. Unsurprisingly, he could already see his friend already strongly attached to the show, one of the first results being the official video of the singer's live audition for the show. Additionally, there were also some articles and pages that detailed standout auditionees. The ones that Smokescreen visited were all saying the same thing when it came to Roland.
Of all the auditionees, he was the one to beat in the early stages of this season.
As much as Smokescreen breathed in the fires of competition, especially during his days of training… seeing that statement worried him in the sense that he didn't know if Roland would thrive under that kind of fire, even though a huge part of his spark flitted in happiness seeing human media appreciate his charge's talents. He couldn't help the pride that swelled seeing his charge's dreams potentially coming true in a way that neither of them expected. People were beginning to drum up conversations about Roland this early on…
Charge? I've gotta… I know my spark says so but… Okay, Smokescreen, focus.
Not only that, but it also wouldn't take long for Smokescreen to find articles of Roland being called an 'unknown singing sensation' that went 'viral,' with evident praise for his cover of 'Over the Rainbow.' That term confused the rookie enough that he briefly exited from the internet and looked at Roland with a confused expression.
"Ro… What does it mean when some of these news sites are saying that you've gone 'viral?' It ain't just one… I'm finding multiple if these sites don't look shady."
Smokescreen's receptors picked up an 'oh no' coming from his companion, the look of worry intensifying in Roland's expression. He could hear the human inhaling a sharp breath, which left the Autobot wondering even more what the phrase went. He opened up another search queue, thinking it may have been another human idiom that his language packs and downloads wouldn't really comprehend. Before his processor could be set down on that, the singer finally responded with an answer to his query.
"So Francis said something along the lines of my audition going 'viral.' It's kind of a messed up metaphor or saying," Roland began. "It's a social media thing, comparing a video to a human virus that spreads to a lot of people… So, if something like my audition has gone viral… it means…"
The rookie had been around humans long enough to pick on the unstated meaning, and knew not to take the phrase too literally.
"If I got the whole phrase correctly… that means your audition's now really popular, right little dude? Like… it's gone viral, it means people are sharing and spreading it around," Smokescreen responded.
"You're exactly right. My audition had like… 7 million views and everything. And… I even had that stranger on the street asking if they knew me. I don't know how viral it's gotten but it's… this is a lot more than I thought. What else have you… found?"
"Okay, well… I got a lot of hits on your name with a buncha news sites reporting on your audition as like… the stand-out of the episode we watched. People are calling ya like… the 'favorite' of the season. That song ya sang… and what you did on TV. I ain't no music judge, but I think people really like ya and wanna hear you sing."
It was surreal to say all of that, to entreat someone to see all of the good fortune they were experiencing. Smokescreen had no idea what this fame could mean or all of the implications of a burgeoning stardom that was almost literally born overnight, but this was… a dream beginning to be fulfilled. Even if Smokescreen knew that his own shot at being a legendary warrior dimmed the longer this war would go on, this didn't mean he stopped fighting for others. In the silence the moments after his statement, Smokescreen's processor couldn't stop thinking about the war, Cybertron, and Roland all in tandem.
Before he could linger on those contemplations further, he then felt Roland embrace his holoform tightly. Such a move surprised the rookie a touch, but he didn't hesitate to return the embrace, patting his companion's back with a smile.
"Ya know, I don't mind the affection, but what was that about?" Smokescreen asked as his companion released from the hug, a holographic eyebrow being raised. Fittingly enough, the singer was flustered for a moment before sighing.
"I don't want… all of this to get my head, but… it's not bad to see the good in this, right?"
"I… don't think so?"
"Okay… 'cause this means… everything that I said about my being able to provide… if this keeps going right, maybe there is a real chance that my dream can come true. And if… this early hype leads to something good, I can fight to provide for the both of us. It's too far ahead to say, but… I think it's promising?..."
There he was. Smokescreen listened patiently as Roland audibly struggled fighting an optimism and hope that he hadn't heard from the singer for the entire time they knew each other. The feeling of being cynical and bullish about one's chances and station in life was something that Smokescreen wasn't alien to, though he tried to stay on the side of optimism more often than not.
"Y'know, this is the first I've heard ya embracing all the good things, little dude. I dunno this side of this human industry as you do… and if there is a bad side to this, you know I'll be there for ya to help you out. To lift ya up… and not just literally."
"You're still such a rascal," hearing that response from Roland was all the more worth it. "I know… I'm trying to stop the overthinking. I know what happens to singers with a lot of hype like this… I just don't want this to be a chance wasted, you know? Something like this… it doesn't happen to a lot of people."
"I know, Ro… but it happened to ya. We'll take it in stride. Heh, maybe we should go celebrate? Both this and you making to live TV? Drive down somewhere this weekend?" Smokescreen asked.
"I'd like that… before the press talks and the interview requests start rolling in… I'm always happy to spend more time with you… with the person that I trust the most."
At this point, Smokescreen knew that him and Roland were unintentionally making some sort of strange game in terms of how many Southern California landmarks they would be able to visit without attracting either human or Decepticon attention. For all intents and purposes, it was a game they've been able to get away to play without much consequence thus far, though Roland always had a mind to pick more obscure spots around the coast while trying to minimize being around Los Angeles county as much as possible. He always stressed that it was two things. It was both staying away from the production of America's Next Big Star and staying away from potential hubs of Decepticon activity.
For this promised trip, they went even further down south to a beachside town named Oceanside, though Smokescreen made sure to stay more along the lines of the vicinity than taking Roland into the city itself. Still, it was the perfect excuse to proverbially stretch his pedes (well… spinning his wheels was the more apt metaphor) and drive down the stretch of US Route 1, with Smokescreen imagining what a more coastal version of the road trip would've been like. The time he had spent on Earth meant that the rookie had gotten used to the sight of the Pacific Ocean roaring to his side when he would drive himself and Roland down this stretch whenever they were seeking new places to either converse or simply wanted to explore without a worry in the world. It was unfathomable to Smokescreen's processor that the sight of the ocean would become such a regular sight, but it was reinforced when he too became another person and vehicle to fight against the Southern California traffic.
As Smokescreen approached the city, his sensors and slowly self-repairing comms systems picked up something peculiar especially when he approached the city limits. He thought that the off-chance of him and Roland encountering another Autobot would've occurred tonight, but the signals he picked up were not quite as exciting as that. What he had caught just miles out from Oceanside were human military signals. The moment he recognized them, he craned his head towards Roland's way, curious if he knew anything about the nature of why they would be here especially given that the singer was the one to suggest the place.
"Yo, Ro. Picked up some military signals around here. You know anything about that?" The rookie then realized that was quite a swerve to send his companion's way, remembering then that Roland didn't seem the type to follow his species or country's military closely.
"Military? Shit… wait," Smokescreen wasn't sure of what to make of Roland sitting up from his slouched position. "Fuck, I remember now… I forgot but there's some sort of marine camp stationed here. Camp Pendleton, I think? Why do you ask?"
"Just wanted to know. Wasn't expectin' to find them through my scanners. You… think they'll be able to find out… about…"
Smokescreen doubted that human technology would be able to find him, but the problem was how he would be able to get both himself and Roland out of here if they were being harassed by human soldiers and interlopers. What happened in Los Angeles caused a fuss with growing frustrations and panic of more Cybertronian-related attacks, and that was with the grace of Smokescreen just barely able to get away with what happened even though he was immobilized for a fair bit. Fighting a Decepticon he could at least have the umbrage to not hold back. Humans… even if he was not under Optimus' command, he could not and would not hurt them under any circumstances.
"I… I don't know, Smokescreen. As much as I want to talk to you as you are, the hologram and us driving down the coast might be best. If it means going to Carlsbad to be safe, that's okay with me. As long as things are normal… we should be okay. I think so."
Smokescreen reached out to pat the singer's shoulder. He had a feeling he could sense where his companion's anxieties were heading, though a part of the rookie understood why. The last thing Smokescreen wanted was for himself to suddenly be interrogated by whoever the authorities were here, even if there was a chance that it would lead him straight to Optimus Prime and his team. Having to deal with the brusquer parts of humanity sounded less than pleasant however, so he and Roland would avoid it if he could help it.
"We should be alright, little dude. Tell me where to drive, never been this far down south of Cali before. You miss the road trips with me that much?" he inserted a sly grin at the end of the question, enjoying that bit of flustering his companion.
"Smokescreen! You… ugh," the rookie laughed at Roland's expense a touch, only winking at the human. "I do… I do. Okay, um… I mentioned driving down south to Carlsbad and maybe we can just find a parking lot and shoot the shit a little bit. If you're okay with it, I should get some food from some fast food place. Don't worry, just this one night."
"Got it. Some things never change with ya, huh? Love ya, little dude."
It was a statement he hoped would hold true for Roland in some respects, even though he knew the vagaries of fame would change some parts of him. It was much the same way that some parts of training so intensely would also change Smokescreen himself… and what that mindset did to the family in Cybertron he did have, and that family, even though that word didn't encompass his relationship with two certain mechs he hoped were still alive, he wanted to reconnect with.
No, now was not the time. He had Roland now. Prowl and Bluestreak… he could save those contemplations for later.
At a certain point while Smokescreen was easing himself into the city of Oceanside in the search for a fast food place that Roland enjoyed, the latter was fiddling around with the radio in the search for some music to fill in the car interior and to change the mood from earlier. Smokescreen could feel his signals being tuned to familiar-feeling radio frequencies, and it always amused him to hear the sounds of 'adult contemporary' or 'top 40 adult hits' radio. There were some instances where Roland did veer off into more current material, intending on giving Smokescreen a haphazard musical education into the sounds of what the United States was specifically into. Much to the singer's chagrin, a lot of the vocalists in the current bleeding edge of pop weren't trading in the passionate vocals of the 1990s.
As Smokescreen was about to pull up into a McDonald's, he could hear a faint melody he swore he recognized coming from the speakers as the DJ announced that a 'classic song' would be gracing the airwaves.
"Everybody either loves or hates this song. If you're the type to tune in to a station like this, you probably love it. You gotta love a Titanic classic, this is Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On.'"
He could hear a groan coming out of Roland, but Smokescreen had no time to ask when he went into the drive-thru to order the rather greasy nuggets that the former was fond of stress eating. Thankfully, the fast-paced nature of ordering this kind of food meant that there wasn't a sudden moment of the employee on the other side either looking at Roland or himself with a suspicious look. Last thing that Smokescreen wanted was for some human stranger to start yelling something about 'aliens,' or more realistically, for that same stranger to recognize Roland through the darkness of the Autobot's interior.
As soon as Smokescreen began to make his way to Carlsbad, following the signs on the roads and hoping they were accurate, he turned the head of his holographic form towards Roland's way as the song on the radio began to move from verse to chorus. The song sounded like a lot of the ballads that Roland was fond of putting on for drives and trips like this. If anything, this just sounded slower and less prone to synths and sass than the other Celine Dion ballads that Roland was fond of. Unsurprisingly, it was also an incredibly sad and mournful ballad with the promise of skillful vocal acrobatics waiting in the wings of its composition.
"You not like this song? Could change the station to another of those adult radio stations you like," Smokescreen offered.
"It's fine. I love this song, a lot actually. It's just… there's a lot of baggage attached to this one. I'll let the song play out and I'll explain more after. For Carlsbad… yeah, you're right on going further down south on the 5. Should only be a couple of minutes even with traffic."
Smokescreen raised his holographic eyebrow, but waited until the song was finished before he could press further. The funny thing is that the more song got dramatic and the more he heard Celine on the radio up the ante with her vocals, the more he could hear and see Roland sing the song as a dramatic performance. It was clearly building to a climax and it wasn't lost to his receptors that Roland was humming along to the song.
As much as the rookie wanted to maintain a sense of emotional distance, he couldn't help but feel… sad? Sorrowful? There was something to the song that oddly tugged at his spark especially as the song was building up to its final chorus. When Celine's vocals hit their peak and when the one part of the song that most of humanity remembered began to emanate through the speakers…
It was something of a revelation for Smokescreen.
It was also something he could easily see Roland performing for television, this kind of overly sincere ballad that had no qualms about hiding its emotions. That was the thing about a lot of human music that Roland exposed him to in the time they had together here. There was no such thing as emotional regulation or being stoic in this realm of older popular music. Being 'cool' was not at all the order of the day. Being sincere was the difficult, and the bigger your emotion, the louder and more passionate your music. The Celine Dion ballad that just played was a surreal apotheosis of that ethos of 'bigger is better' when it came to emotions and vocal histrionics. For those last 60 seconds, there was no holding back from Celine and for some reason… Smokescreen fell for it.
He left the song with a peculiar sense of amazement, even though his processor was still glued to the road. Smokescreen was prepared to ask a question, but Roland beat him to the proverbial punch.
"A lot of people hated that song back in the day, Smokescreen."
Smokescreen raised a virtual eyebrow to that, though to be fair… neither did he have much of a context for the song's seemingly eternal popularity nor the circumstances of its release. What he heard seemed a pleasant and inoffensive ballad, if admittedly a little bit loud. He wouldn't have minded listening to it again or even hearing Roland's take on the song.
"Gonna need more info on that, little dude."
"That's fair. Hmm… I'd say about ten to twelve years ago, you couldn't walk out anywhere without hearing this song at least once. This was and is still Celine Dion's most popular song. It was attached to this epic romantic drama called 'Titanic' and it was the song for the end credits. It became so popular that it even outlasted the movie for a time because the radios were never not playing this."
As Roland began his oration of the song's seemingly storied history, Smokescreen both listened and tried to keep track of how far they were from Carlsbad. It would only be a matter of mere minutes the rookie assumed before they would have to find some sort of place where the both of them could talk without arousing suspicion. On the thought of the song… it amazed him in a horrified sense that one song could become that singularly popular. It was something he never really had to think about both in Cybertron and Earth, especially given that Roland was always insistent on changing the songs up even when the styles ran rather similar to one another. No one song was ever lingered on for too long even when the singer was neck deep into practicing for the show.
"Hold up, Ro… was it really that popular? Like if we turned back the clock that many cycles and I found ya in like… I can't do human years that good yet, but like you said, ten years ago. This song would still be playing all the time?"
"It would be… at least once every hour or twice. It's not so bad now because the overexposure meant that when the 2000s hit, a lot of the 'cool kids' or music critics hated the song. I… love it personally but I can see why people got sick of it. It's still a popular choice for talent shows. It's a hard song to sing… especially that last bridge. People wanna hear that part especially being sung all the time. Even transposed down to my money key it's right at the very top of my range, all of those intense notes."
"Ro, that means you gotta sing it now. I kinda wanna hear your take on it, same way you did that upbeat Whitney song or the Bob Dylan ballad. You've practiced this Celine person's songs with me in the past, what's another one right?"
"In due time, Smokescreen," and of course Roland would be getting better at catching his attempts at flustering. "The song's on my list anyway, or at least the producers of the show know. If I'm at a point where I'm doing like a movies week; I'll probably sing it then."
Smokescreen chuckled as the conversation soon turned into the both of them trying to determine a suitable spot for the both of them to covertly have a conversation without attracting much attention. There was a marine conservation area that Roland was able to find without too much difficulty on his phone, which provided enough cover and isolation for Smokescreen to potentially go into his true form. Still, given the fact that there was a military installation close by… him being a nearby presence without transforming was already a risk, so he wouldn't mind another night of experiencing Earth as humans did once more.
The amusing thing about his holoform, which was made more apparent when Smokescreen found a suitable place to park and gave time for both him and Roland to stretch their peds, was that even the one he was able to construct was still taller than Roland. To the rookie's amusement, the 'little dude' endearment still rang true. The parking spot they were in seemed ample enough space to walk around the preservation area without straying too far from his true form either, so this was ideal for simply just… talking.
"You really like the whole 'deep conversations in nature' thing, don't ya?" Smokescreen asked with a devilish grin, to which Roland responded with an aghast smile.
"I admit it, I do," Roland responded back with a surrender as the human led the way down a path that wasn't too far from where Smokescreen parked. It didn't escape the Autobot that Roland had also deliberately hid himself with a sweater, trying his best to avoid any possible instances where either of them could be seen.
It wasn't long until the singer found a decent spot for privacy, Roland easing himself against a tree while his eyes longingly gazed into the lagoon. Smokescreen sat not too far from the singer, finding a strange comfort in how their conversations often began with awkward yet somehow cozy silences where they would drink in the environment around them before beginning with something inane or with some strangely armor piercing question. Amusingly, Smokescreen felt like he and Roland were doing more in-depth reenactments of their first conversation all the way back in Rosewood Beach, when Roland was still a resident of Chicago and before Smokescreen had immersed himself this much in human culture… if he were being more truthful, in human life itself, flaws and all.
"So… what do ya think of being potentially famous this early? You being viral… you humans have some odd metaphors, little dude. Kinda freaky that it means you gotta compare yourself to a human virus." Smokescreen grinned as he teased Roland a bit, enjoying the fond eyeroll he got from his companion.
"It feels… weird. The entire show has just felt so odd and fake but this… it's one of the few things that's felt real in a way. I don't know… fame does really weird things to people and I don't wanna fall into that trip. The whole viral thing is a weird metaphor… What I'm like some sort of singing virus? I don't know…"
"Hey…" Smokescreen could sense the worry within the singer's rambles. "We'll cross that bridge if this gets more intense. It will… knowing where you are in the competition. Still… just take it in for what it is man, who knows how long it'll last, right?"
"It always sounds more convincing coming from you, but thank you… I really do need you around. On that actually… how's your hologram… that freaky thing you do that makes this possible? I know it's getting better 'cause you're doing it more often, but how is it now?"
Well, that was a swerve from Roland.
"Good enough where I can kinda regulate it without too much energon. I know ya like my true form," he winked at the singer at the end there. "Can't resist me, right? Talking seriously, I could maybe pass off as one of ya if I put in the effort."
"Alright… I'm already getting emails and contacts about needing to get ready for promo and talks, and to get ready to move… I want you with me but without having to risk you getting involved with the producers. They're… I don't want them to use you, but I at least want to see you, if I can…"
It was a sweet gesture, though it was one that only heightened the sorrow that sat on Smokescreen's spark when he would think about his companion. The rookie had caught hints of Roland's true feelings about the production of the show he competed in, though it was a negativity he never spoke much on extensively. However, the Autobot got enough of an impression that the show's machinations and manipulations were something to behold in a rather astoundingly evil way, the show making it clear that even the contestants it favored were just mere pawns to them.
"Strong enough now that I think I can make it last for a while. Dunno if others can take notice that I'm not one of y'all, but I think it looks convincing enough. Why do ya ask?" If he could help it, he didn't want Roland to trap himself into another line of circular and negative thought.
"Just thinking… dangerous, I know," Smokescreen was about to raise a digitized eyebrow at that verb. "I was thinking about our conversation from not too long ago when I came back from Florida… I just don't want this show to keep us apart, and I've been… I'm realizing more than ever that you're the one person keeping me sane throughout this process and I want to make sure that… you're around and that you know I'm still trying… and that fame won't tear us apart."
Now that immobilized the rookie in his tracks once more, though anytime that Roland would always get sincere was liable to leave the Autobot speechless regardless. He was at a loss of how to respond at first, having a difficult time trying to navigate his own vulnerabilities, as much as he wanted to keep breaking down his own walls… but it conflicted with how his spark saw Roland as a charge, and also with how long he has seen himself as an unflappable rookie who would often take things in stride. As much as he wanted to reassure his companion… no, his charge. He is his charge.
Primus, Smokey, you meet one human and this is what he's doing to you!?
"Hey…" that sounded way more vulnerable than he intended. "Look I… I didn't mean to worry ya with me being soft that night. I did now so I kinda have to own that…" Smokescreen tried to chuckle, "…Guess I gotta spill. I've been with ya for so long… guess I developed my own separation anxiety. Still gotta work through that, huh? Little dude, all I gotta know is that you're trying… and I think we can work through it together once we know what it all actually entails in the future."
"Okay… okay, sorry that got dramatic there. I've been getting worried for you. It's been me, me, me… but I… I don't want to lose sight of you. Not when you're the only thing that feels real."
Smokescreen tried to maintain his version of a sly, charming grin. However, that last part did admittedly blindside him, even though his processor was beginning to make some connections back to the show. It also wasn't lost on him that even Roland was struggling with separation, and to think that months ago he was convinced that his fate was with Optimus Prime and whoever else was here with him. Fate truly was a funny 'Bot sometimes. Or at least, fate did strange things to his spark that he wasn't sure how to read or even accept.
"I… what do you mean by that last part, Ro?"
Neither was he sure how to read the enigmatic smile that went over his companion's face.
"The whole production has made me think a lot about the nature of tv and the music industry… about how people make you want to act a certain way. I… realize now why so many people say they're playing a game, because it is one… just with a lot of consequences. When I'm with you… it feels like it means something beyond it being my dream. The show can make me into whatever they want me to be, but… they can't take you away, because you're real…"
"I… thanks? I… I'm pretty sure I am?"
There were times where heavy metaphors and statements took Smokescreen's processors towards a ride where the meaning was lost. For a statement delivered with a heavy sentiment, the rookie took it too literally, and he only stared at Roland with a dumbfounded expression. Though he was glad to hear the singer guffaw despite the emotional moment, and even more glad to hear his charge's laughter… that still left the rookie a confused Autobot, staring at Roland expecting an explanation as he softly chuckled along, even though he knew the laughter was somewhat at his own expense.
"Okay, poke at the hot shot while he's down. Sure, little dude."
"I'm not! I'm not!" Smokescreen would relish in the laughter for as long as he could, knowing that just seeing Roland smile would be a rarity. "Okay, maybe something got lost in translation. I'm just saying you're not… you're not fake. When we have conversations like this… it's just you and I, real, raw, not mediated through a camera. With you, the singing means something…"
Now that began to make a bit more sense in the rookie's processors.
"Okay… leads me to ask a question I've been wantin' to ask. How… do you make the whole singing and sincerity thing happen? Ro, I mean this with all the love in my spark but like… I don't think I've ever met anyone, 'Bot or human, as intense as you. It's like… you could probably even get Optimus Prime speechless for a nanoclick."
He was exaggerating there for a little bit, but there was a truth to such an exaggeration. It was something he noticed whenever Roland sang or began to become sincere, or both at the same time. There was an intensity with the way his companion just simply… emoted? Felt? He wasn't sure how to describe it and he knew his processor could run circles trying to find the right vocabulary. It didn't help that Roland only seemed to smile in response to the question, staring into the lagoon with an enigmatic expression.
"From a young age… My Dad has always described me as feeling too much almost all the time. I was… very emotionally sensitive and my only relief from that was listening to… really emotional ballads, and then I started to sing them and that made me feel good… safe even. It began to change a bit when I got older…
"In order to sing… you kinda have to feel those emotions intensely in order to really sell it. I thought about my mom here and there… and then you meet people that make those emotions feel genuine. You're one of my inspirations now… and in order for me to have this dream, I have to believe in what I'm singing… it has to be real for me. I want to make people not just happy… but to make them feel something, or at least I hope I do."
Now, more than ever, Smokescreen was genuinely curious to see how Roland would do in a room filled with Autobots. Even the thought made Smokescreen's spark yearn for his family, he wondered how Prowl's nature as a more taciturn (on the surface at least) tactician or Bluestreak's more gregarious nature would handle Roland as the overly passionate spark in the room. As far as he knew, neither he nor his family were particularly strong patrons of the arts, not in the way his companion seemed to breathe being an artist by the solar cycle.
"Aight, just got curious about you little dude. I… well, don't take this to mean I'm interested in being an artist, I don't got the spark for that. You… you got me thinking about stuff I haven't thought of in a while."
"If you're up for it, what about?..."
"I've never spoken much about my family to ya, have I?"
"No… this is… the first time you've even mentioned having one. Are you… up for talking about it?"
Smokescreen tried his best not to react with an instinctive 'slag,' but he knew this was a consequence of not broaching his own past with the singer so often. He had no intention of going into detail, but maybe he could at least let Roland be aware of who Prowl and Bluestreak were in the off-chance that not only they were still online… but they were online here on Earth.
"A bit. You got me wanting to talk about them so I'll let ya in on a few things. I was just thinking about how you would fit in with them, especially my… brother's the closest word, so let's go with brother, Bluestreak. He's a bit like me, just not as cool or as much of a hot shot, heh. Friendly and trained sniper. I think he'd like you and find you intense, though he'd want to know how you got someone like me in your orbit. And you mentioning your creator and your emotions… is kinda making me miss my family too."
He could see Roland approach closer with a sympathetic look, letting the silence between them act as a response before the singer gazed into the stars above. A strange response so far, but… Smokescreen had learned long ago to try not to question his companion in moments like this.
"One day… I'm gonna do what I can to help you find him. I'd like to meet him, somehow… even if it means a panicked meeting. Do you have any other family?"
"Little dude, you really are gonna be a Cybertronian helper, are ya? Heh, then there's my other brother Prowl… you may wanna keep a calmer and cooler head 'round him. Probably the best Autobot tactician living out there… I know he's online, it's just a matter of time before he shows up here."
And it was an optimism that Smokescreen needed to believe, otherwise… what was the war even for? How could he go on when there was no belief that those he was sparked with were no longer here?
"So… I have a bit of an idea while you were talking about your brothers," Smokescreen was pulled out of his reverie to find Roland right next to him, staring at the skies.
"A lot of performers have a signature, either a habit or a dedication if they love someone. I… wanna try to do that for you, and maybe try to leave a trail of clues for your brothers. I doubt it'll work, but… anything to help you feel like you aren't alone, you know?..."
"Ro…" Smokescreen only smiled before his face was covered in sorrow. He didn't have the heart to question the practicalities and wisdom of what Roland seemed to want to do.
Before long, Roland would blow a kiss upwards towards the night sky, his eyes radiating with a mawkish and earnest warmth, his face bearing an intense emotion he could not hide. He would reach upwards with a trembling hand for a few moments before receding it, looking back at Smokescreen with a serene and solemn expression.
"I want that to be my signature, and also my sign to you when I perform on TV. We can try to make it mean something… and maybe one day, we'll be able to see them again."
"I hope so, little dude… and that's really sweet of ya, Ro. Genuinely."
Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, Smokescreen knew that it was the kind of conversation he needed… just to at least know that Roland was more than willing to even meet his brothers was a strange reassurance, even if he wasn't sure if Roland fully understood the gravity of helping another Cybertronian in the way he wanted to, or if even such a thing was possible. And it was seeing Roland hopeful that they would find Smokescreen's family somehow…
It would be a while until another conversation like that, especially as the date of Roland's live debut as one of the final 12 for America's Next Big Star loomed uncomfortably closer.
Soon, Roland having to give up his day job as a waiter for that Long Beach restaurant became a reality.
When weeks passed in order for Roland to transform from wannabe pop star to someone ready for primetime television, that was when it dawned on Smokescreen the intensity of the reality television bubble that his companion signed up for. First came the interview requests, then came the glam sessions, photo shoots, and that would then transform into Roland having to interface and work with publicity teams in all matter of learning how to be a celebrity. For the Autobot, this meant having to risk cover and constantly driving Roland down to Los Angeles for interviews with either reporters or sometimes even the occasional talk shows, especially when footage of his solo boot camp performance was aired and when his fame seemed to increase by the day.
When he saw Roland needing to tote around a dedicated makeup kit and when his life had gone on a regimented schedule, often to the point where he had become married to a job he was not even being paid for… Smokescreen could see now where there was no space to fit in those small moments as they became scarcer and when the production team for America's Next Big Star began to ask for more and more from his charge. Roland would always say that the producers would often demand that he talk and present a certain way, play the role of the earnest balladeer, be kooky and emotional at the right time… and there was no other option, with any threat of rebellion spoken with the undercurrent that the producers would be more than willing to simply cut out Roland's spot in the competition like it was nothing.
The process of projecting stardom onto Roland had been a whirlwind that Smokescreen barely understood, only except he would see the physical effects on his companion as the public began to catch up on decisions made long ago. For every drive to a stylist or seeing the studio that Roland would sing in from afar, Smokescreen saw the gradual transformation of Roland from an everyday singer to someone who looked ready to be on a human magazine or tabloid. Each time he scanned Roland bearing copious amounts of make-up, his sensors could detect the cologne, the material on his face, eyebrow, eyelines, and even some of the more longer-term effects that were occurring due to Roland needing to be set on a training regiment before his charge was even deemed 'worthy' of appearing for the cameras.
Acting as a friend by way of his hologram or as a stationary car (with which Roland had to fabricate an entire story about how the car was not really 'his') meant that Smokescreen had began to become privy of industry and reality show talk in a way that Roland was… and some of the producers were adamant about viewing Roland as but a product to sell to the masses, never once caring about his artistry.
"Morrow, you need to look more confident and less pathetic for the cameras. Save the emotional looks for when you're on stage."
"We don't have enough time to run plastics on you… We're just gonna have to get your teeth capped and let the lighting do the magic for you."
"Good, good… we need the old folks right behind you. You're good with singing that Celine song for your first week, right? You better, Angela's going to be hands-off for a while until the field gets thinner."
There was naught neither of them could do except for Roland to nod with a pained smile for each mandatory suggestion. As Smokescreen saw his companion gradually and then eventually quickly transform into the wannabe pop star readymade for TV, the more Roland began to grow silent and become more pliable to listen to the producers' suggestions. This was what the rookie was able to catch when they were both together. He did not want to know what happens behind closed doors, no less when the interactions between them became sparser except for long exchanges of texts when Roland was fully moved into the contestants' house.
This dream could not turn into a twisted nightmare, right?
Smokescreen kept his glossa in silence during the times when they were together, but the period with which the rookie was left alone to stew in his own thoughts as it was now made official that Roland was part of the final 12. He almost found it silly that words in contracts that he never signed had stopped him, non-disclosure agreements being their strange legal pitfalls. At the same time, he was also consigned to a vow of secrecy when it came to ensuring that not only was Roland's chance for this dream still alive… he also knew that compromising himself would mean attracting the attention of Decepticons, and Smokescreen was still wed enough to the Autobot cause that violating that vow of secrecy would mean fully turning away from all his spark stood for.
So, he waited with bated breath, keeping himself distracted with patrols and scoping out Decepticons in the Long Beach area.
He was the one to tend to Roland's now silent apartment as America's Next Big Star would begin to proudly tote out its final 12 in the search for its next champion.
It was strange that he was only but a series of texts now… as well as a series of images and other people's impressions of him. The more his run on the show became broadcasted, the more Smokescreen began to keep tabs of how his fame was beginning to spread and bloom in its own strange way. There would always be the occasional article that insisted that he was the one to beat and he even betting sites that made it their financial livelihood to predict the outcome of shows like America's Next Big Star. One he found in particular talked about everybody's prospects in such a cold, clinical way, as if none of these contestants mattered as people. Their prospects as producer's favorites or commercial viabilities were what mattered… and that same site was saying the same thing.
Roland Morrow was the contestant to beat.
It was now the night of the first live show, Smokescreen beginning to settle down with nervous breath as he'd since let go of the absurdity of being an Autobot now having fallen prey to the human invention of appointment television. However, it took on a different tenor when there was someone he personally knew on television beyond just being a fan of them or even having that detached parasocial relationship. The television was tuned into the talent show, playing the opening credits that Smokescreen by this point had seen far too many points.
Roland – 8:01PM
Show is about to start
Just wanted to send a text—they are making me sing mhwgo after all
I'm sorry it's just been resorted to this… I will figure out something
I miss you
Smokescreen – 8:03PM
little dude!
Good luck… miss ya too
Just lemme know what you need
U think I'll be able to pick u up after the show?
Roland – 8:05PM
Hopefully not too many post-show interviews.
Shit producer in the background ttyl
The show spared no expense when it was being recorded live.
Dramatic choral music, the judges dressed in formal ball, and even the showers of sparks that were gratuitous to the rookie. Everything, even to the way the contestants were introduced, exuded a spectacle that was too much for Smokescreen to take in all at once. Even the way Roland looked on television, from the bits he'd seen of the 'glamour photo shoot' that constituted his official photos for the season, was extremely unlike the Roland he knew.
Yet, the whole show was conducted in this melodramatic fashion. The contestants, even those the show clearly did not favor or were clearly just filler for competition, had stardom projected onto them as if this first live show was their 'real' debut into the music industry. The costumes he had seen some of the performers wear where things that his processor was struggling to find words for, coming up with either 'sequins' or an inordinate amount of glitter and makeup. Each contestant was given not just their own glamorous makeover for the cameras, but ostensibly a chance to shine with performances that felt oddly truncated. Smokescreen was used to songs that lasted anywhere from three to five minutes, yet these contestants were getting two to two and a half minutes at most. It was clear that they needed to make a big impact with what little time they did have, with the judges feeling like they got more screentime with their post-performance commentary than the actual songs themselves.
When it was Roland's turn to sing, it was surreal to see the show focus on him and to see the result of the blurry months-long process of turning him into a readymade for TV product. It was just as strange to hear the announcer loudly blare out the full name of his charge like a comms message written entirely in all capital letters. His processor and spark were fully focused on the pre-performance video tape, which mostly consisted of empty platitudes of how Roland was enjoying the process of becoming a star and how surreal it was that he was being interviewed by media.
He had a big song, the show kept emphasizing. Funnily enough, that song was one that Smokescreen remembered him and Roland discussing, the famous (or infamous) Celine Dion ballad from the Titanic movie.
It was even stranger to be the passive audience alongside the many millions watching this performance live. Roland was dressed and dolled up in an expensive-looking suit for the occasion, beginning to sing the aforementioned Celine Dion ballad while framed with professional-grade production and audio. His voice sounded healthier and more resonant, nary a vocal blemish as he navigated the first verse and it was clear that he was trained to look and play to the cameras. As mawkish as it all felt, Roland was doing everything he could to make a stranger believe that he lived through the tragedy of the song. His eyes held just the right amount of sorrow and regret, and his voice held an emotional tone but was just restrained enough to keep the first verse from being too overblown.
Due to the truncated nature of these performances, Roland cut the first verse short and moved to the chorus, already beginning to belt out some of the notes without the exhaustion of a raw vocal or without the oddly charming imperfections that Smokescreen was fond of hearing. His charge's vocals were unnaturally and inhumanly clean, even though Roland was perfectly emoting the drama of the song and looked to even be straining here and there. He was both enamored and yet strangely panicked by what he was seeing on stage, wondering what exactly this show was doing with his companion even though all signs pointed to this performance being treated with dignity and gravitas. This grand treatment was made apparent when Roland was allowed a moment to breathe before the famous and climactic bridge of the song…
And when those climactic notes hit, that was when he knew his charge was in his element. Roland hit the notes with an astounding clarity and grit, putting everything in the most emotional moments of the song. Smokescreen had become so enthralled that he had even missed strategic cutaways to the judges, with the rookie still taking in the fact that this was his friend, his companion singing his heart out with the glitz and the glamour this show was seemingly more than happy to provide. The cameras added to the drama, the lights aided in the mood. Roland, more than ever, was playing the part of the balladeer down to a disturbing tee.
After the performance, Roland would take a moment to blow a kiss upwards towards the ceiling.
In that moment, Smokescreen began to understand Roland's worry over this strange process.
"Ro…" he breathed out, watching his charge wreathed in an ethereal glow of lights as he awaited the judgments of the show's celebrity judges.