Chapter 57: On Air
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Somewhere between now and his youth, Frank had forgotten the one rule he used to live by. If something scared him – truly scared him – he would just keep doing it until the fear went away. It had been ages since he'd done that. Sometimes he felt like being a bodyguard had gotten him too comfortable with the idea of death or injury. But he'd never had the opportunity to get comfortable with the constant invasion of privacy.
Rachel, however, was an expert in handling the public's opinion of her.
Now here he was, trailing along her coattails in the dizzying navigation of Hollywood, and she wasn't going to let him forget that rule he used to live by. One of the best ways she served him as a partner was by always forcing him out of his comfort zone.
He hated it, but it was necessary.
This time, he wasn't involved in any of the decision making. Two days passed where phone calls were made without his knowledge, discussions were had without his input, and Rachel handled it all. At this point Frank was desperate, and in that he had no choice. If she truly believed being seen on Sullivan Palmer's show would save them from being targeted, Frank could no longer argue with her. Because every time they attempted to run away, something bad happened. He had run away over and over again, expecting a different result. By the dictionary definition of 'insanity,' perhaps he really had been insane.
Tony stayed behind at the house with Crystal and Fletcher while Ricky and Scott accompanied Rachel and Frank into Los Angeles. There must've been an overwhelming amount of interest in them as guests if Sulley had agreed to drop every planned segment that weekend for his show and do a live interview with them instead. That made Frank exceptionally nervous.
"Aren't your friends Mark and Janet gonna be pissed to see you on Sulley's show?" Frank asked as they pulled up to the studio.
"You know all those 'gut feelings' you're always having about people?" Rachel's dark eyes flashed with inner turbulence as she looked at him. "Well, I have it about Mark and Janet now."
"What changed your mind about them?"
"They never tried to sweet-talk me like that before… It was all about them getting attention. I felt like they were trying to use us."
Frank felt a small rise in confidence as they stepped out of the car together. Maybe Rachel was finally starting to see through some of these people.
There were about twenty people gathered outside the studio building, most with cameras, hovering around the entrance. Scott pivoted from one side of the steps to the other in an effort to push them back so that Rachel and Frank could get inside. Once they had made it into the lobby, Frank realized he was not quite safe just yet.
"Oxana, you made it!" Rachel seemed thrilled to see her stylist.
"I can't trust anyone else with you two for your first television debut together," Oxana muttered haughtily.
Frank had to practically be dragged by his collar into the dressing rooms.
"We'll start with your accessories," Oxana sighed, holding a lazy hand out.
Frank glared at the woman as he unlatched his wristwatch, placed it in her hand, and then removed his gun from its holster.
"Fucking Christ!" Oxana shouted at him. "Put that thing away!"
Rachel snorted softly. "Good luck gettin' him to do that."
Scott intervened. "I'll take it, Frank."
Eyebrows still hidden beneath her hairline, Oxana moved over to Rachel.
"Oh, I won't be taking this off," Rachel said, placing her right hand protectively over the ring on her pinky finger.
"That is a vintage piece. I have other rings for you," Oxana insisted, "to match the ensemble."
Rachel brushed away the selection of rings Oxana offered. "This is um, a sentimental piece, and I'd like to wear it while on the show."
"You've never worn this before," Oxana said, pulling Rachel's hand closer to inspect the ring more closely. "Is this… No, this isn't… an engagement ring?"
"Yes, it is," Rachel murmured.
As usual, Oxana was all business as she glanced between Rachel and Frank. "Well, I'll be damned. Congratulations."
"Thank yo–!"
Rachel yelped in surprise as Oxana yanked the ring off her finger, dropped it into a small box and handed it to her assistant. "We'll have it resized before you go on air."
"That's not necessary," Frank protested, but Oxana pushed him roughly into the chair by the mirror.
"You're lucky I'm even letting her wear it. It completely clashes with the rest of her jewelry," Oxana said.
"I'd rather my fist clash with your face," Frank muttered under his breath.
"Excuse me?" Oxana demanded.
He smirked to himself in the mirror. "Nothing."
She made sure his shirt collar was unbuttoned extra far down for the interview.
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After three hours of Oxana's harassment in the dressing rooms, they were finally escorted into Sullivan Palmer's personal office. Although he was sporting a few gray hairs and a few extra pounds, Sulley's appearance was mostly unchanged from the days when he'd started his career as a show host. He had glossy black hair and dark brown eyes, a typical California tan to his skin, and dimples that made him look younger than he really was.
"I can't tell you what an honor it is," the man said, taking Frank's hand in his. His handshake was rough and genuine. Frank was surprised by how familiar the man felt in person, having seen his face countless times on TV before.
Sulley turned to Rachel and kissed her cheek. "Rachel, dear, so wonderful to have you back."
"It's good to be back, Sulley," she cooed, her eyes alight with joy.
"You've certainly made my day," he admitted, looking starstruck as he stared at her face.
"Well, we're keeping this exclusive," Rachel said in a low tone. "Mark and Janet might blow up your phone tomorrow."
"Ah, to hell with 'em," Sulley waved her off. "I'm sure every host in this city will be livid tomorrow. I don't give a flying fuck." He gave a good-natured laugh and gestured for them to sit down with him in the center of his office.
"Sorry," he said flippantly as they sat at the table. "I try to get all the cuss words outta my system before we go on air," he said.
Rachel exchanged a tentative glance with Frank.
"Frank's never been on air before," she said.
"Don't worry, we won't throw any curveballs," Sulley said amicably.
"Do we get to see the questions first?" Frank inquired.
"That's what I've got right here." Sulley was one step ahead, placing two pieces of pink paper in front of Rachel and Frank.
There was a brief stint of silence while Frank read through the questions that had been typed onto the page.
- How did the night begin for you both?
- Did you have any suspicions that Rachel might be a target before you arrived at the Oscars?
- What was going through your mind before you ran across the stage to protect Rachel from the shooter?
- Can you tell us anything about your injuries as a result of the shooting?
- Why didn't you return to your job as Rachel Marron's bodyguard after this incident?
- How did you two meet up again?
- What encouraged you both to pursue a relationship with each other after all these years?
- Are you excited to start a family together?
- Are you having a son or daughter?
Fuck, some of them were really personal.
Frank gulped as he let the page fall from his fingers onto the table. "Is it, uh, possible to have some of these questions removed?"
Sulley bristled. "I tried to keep everything professional. Which question in particular are you not comfortable answering?"
Frank glanced down at the page again, his chest tightening as he considered each one in turn. If he were to ask for one to be removed, he'd have to ask for all of them to be removed. With a heavy sigh of resignation, he shook his head. "None. I'll answer them."
He felt Rachel's hand settle lightly on his thigh beneath the table.
"We don't do this very often. Live, I mean," Sulley admitted.
"You're the best, Sulley," Rachel reminded him, "and your team knows what they're doing."
He exhaled deeply and stared between the two of them across the table. "It's pretty surreal for me to have you both here. I just have to personally thank you for agreeing to come on and share your story. Rachel, after you gave your interview all those years back, we received some of the most amazing feedback from our viewers in the history of our show." He smiled proudly. "Even though we've only had a week to advertise this, I anticipate we'll bring in some pretty insane numbers tonight."
The gnawing feeling of nervousness arose in Frank's stomach again.
Hopefully this would all be worth it.
They spent about forty minutes with Sulley in his office, mostly conversing casually instead of focusing on the questions at hand. Frank suspected that Sulley was trying his best to ease their nerves, but it didn't seem to help much. As soon as it was time to head up to set, Rachel clutched Frank's sleeve so that he could stay behind for a moment in the hallway.
"Are you sure you're okay doing this?" she asked.
He looked at her in surprise. "It's a little late now, isn't it?"
"It's never too late to say 'no,' honey." Her sincere black eyes stirred his heartstrings. All he wanted was to pick her up and carry her home.
He held her hand to his chest and nodded. "I'll do it for you."
She glowed with appreciation, leaned in, and kissed him. And then it was too late.
He had never been so uncomfortable.
From the moment they set foot in the studio, Frank could feel everyone's eyes on them. Particularly every set of female eyes, on him, and he worried that he might have another full blown panic attack while on air. He hated that he was so observant, because that meant he couldn't be blissfully ignorant to the small groups of flustered young women who were side-eyeing him and fanning themselves and sending each other excited glances from behind their notebooks. And even though he hated it, he could still understand why someone might get addicted to this. Looking over at Rachel, he was surprised at how calm and collected she appeared, that semi-cheeky smile on her face as she observed the effects her fiancé had on the mostly female crowd.
As she passed through the room, a young woman wearing a headset looked Rachel up and down and remarked, "You look like you're about to pop."
Rachel turned towards the woman and smiled sweetly. "So do you, honey. Goodness, you got enough fillers in those cheeks to last you another hundred years."
Because he was nervous enough to be sick, Frank allowed himself to laugh.
The young woman looked absolutely mortified, but Rachel looked unaffected as she guided him to the soundstage.
Just before they could be seated, Oxana's assistant came racing over to them with the ring box in hand. "Miss Marron, your ring?"
Frank stared down into the ring box to see her engagement ring twinkling back at him from under the garish studio lights. Rachel lifted her left hand and allowed him to slide it onto her ring finger.
Their eyes met for the briefest moment as a tornado of rushed movements and urgent voices swirled around them.
It was very much a blur from that point forward. Frank couldn't focus on anything but the whirling of unfamiliar hands around him, positioning his sleeves just so, arranging the microphone and mysterious cords all around his back and his collar. Everything had to be adjusted a million times until it was perfectly hidden from every camera in the room. All the while his heart was galloping in his chest to the point where he could hear it in his eardrums. He saw Scott enter the studio and stand in the corner with his hands folded, carefully watching from afar. Frank suffered a moment of true envy, wishing he were the one hidden in the corner.
Rachel took his hand and held it, and he was reminded of all the times they held hands while sitting together on the sofa in Dr. Evers' office. The only difference was that instead of healing trauma, here they would probably be adding to it.
Sulley finally arrived on set, seated himself in the armchair across from them, and recited off a casual string of reminders not to look into the cameras, only to address him when answering questions, limit 'um's and 'uh's, and not to shift too much from the position they were in right now.
When Sulley gave the word, the studio lights went dim, save for the several bright, manufactured stage lights that focused directly on the subjects being recorded. The lights on the doors glowed in faint red letters, 'On Air', and from that point on everything was happening too fast.
When a video camera was active, it glowed red, just like the ones at the Academy Awards. Frank knew he was not supposed to look at the camera, which made the urge to flick his eyes in that direction increasingly difficult to resist. His heart was lodged in his throat as he attempted to focus only on Sulley. But the words coming out their host's mouth were like a foreign language, muffled to the point of nonsense as he made introductions.
Frank realized suddenly that Sulley had asked a question already, but he had not heard it. Thankfully Rachel swooped in with her answer, perfectly poised and prepared.
"Frank came to work for me in January of 1992. I hadn't known it at the time, but there had been multiple death threats sent to me by an anonymous stalker. My manager Bill Devaney had hired Frank in an effort to enhance my security."
Sulley looked at Frank. "We've heard rumors that you have a history in the secret service, Frank. Is that true?"
"Yes," Frank said stiffly.
"Must have taken some convincing to get you to guard a celebrity."
Because he was on camera, Frank resisted the urge to smirk. "You could say that."
"From an outsider's perspective, I recall that Rachel was very active in her performance schedule until March came around," Sulley said. "Was it your decision to cancel her concert dates?"
"Yes, it was," Frank responded.
"And that was because of her stalker?" Sulley pressed.
Frank felt Rachel's fingers tremble under his as he replied, "Yes."
Sulley continued, "The details the public has been given about this case have been somewhat convoluted over the years. However, we've come to understand recently that the stalker in question was not the same person who attempted to shoot Rachel at the Academy Awards, is that correct?"
Frank exchanged glances with Rachel. The red signal light of the active camera reflected back at him from her dark eyes, pressuring him to answer. But Rachel answered for him.
"That's correct." She turned and looked over at Sulley. "That stalker was apprehended before the Awards took place."
There was a brief silence in the studio as the crowd digested this previously unconfirmed information.
"I imagine that was a pretty hectic time for you," Sulley considered.
"It was one of the most turbulent times of my life," Rachel confirmed in a solemn voice. "My sister Nicki, God rest her soul, had just been taken from us two weeks prior. I was devastated, and already dealing with a lot of grief."
Sulley said, "I remember the last time you and I spoke, you had told me a little about your sister. I think it says a lot about your strength as a person that you still chose to attend the Oscars that night. Do you ever look back now and regret that you did?"
Frank's breath caught in his throat. Unless this question had been on Rachel's page, Sulley was already deviating from the list of questions they'd been given prior to coming on set.
Rachel furrowed her brow. "No. No, I don't think that I regret it. I think things happened the way they were supposed to." Her voice was calm and quiet, almost comforting. "And people might think I'm crazy for saying that, since I almost got killed that night, but no… no, I never regret anything in life."
Sulley tilted his head as he studied Rachel's face. "There are some people who theorize that there may have been a tie between your sister's death and your experience at the Oscars. It seems pretty suspicious that you were both targeted in such a short period of time. Seems possible that both cases could have been linked in some way. What do you have to say to that?"
Rachel looked stumped. Her fingers tightened on Frank's hand as she stared blankly ahead.
The indescribable urge to rescue her forced the words from his mouth. "There was a link between both cases," Frank said. "The man who was targeting Rachel all along believed that he had killed her when he shot Nicki."
Sulley and Rachel were both staring at him, in awe that he had revealed so much.
Sulley carefully continued, "And from the way you speak about this, Frank, it sounds as if you were there when Nicki Marron was killed."
"Yes, I was. And so was Rachel."
The tension that followed his statement was palpable throughout the room.
"That's a lot for someone to witness," Sulley said after clearing his throat. "I'm sure that must have been a very traumatic experience for you both."
"Yes," Frank answered. Rachel nodded, still staring down at her lap.
"Now, after what you just told us about Nicki Marron's death, it sounds as though you had some idea that there may have still been a threat to Rachel the night of the Oscars, is that right?"
Frank knew the question had been directed at him, but he answered in the plural. "We knew it was possible, yes."
Sulley curiously turned to Rachel. "So you also knew there may have been a threat, Rachel, but you attended anyway?"
"As every good performer knows, 'the show must go on,'" Rachel attempted to lighten the mood. "And as you might recall, Sulley, earlier that evening I had stumbled quite a bit while presenting the award for best original song." She glanced nervously at Frank before continuing. "I already had some concerns about my safety, and I think that my anxiety had gotten the better of me."
"I see . . . and this was why you ran off stage?" Sulley guessed.
Rachel nodded. "Yes, and I'm sure some of my peers who were there that night will remember my outbursts backstage following that moment."
"It sounds as if it was justified," Sulley said sympathetically.
"It was," Frank echoed, staring pointedly at Rachel.
"One might argue that you could have used some additional security that night," Sulley remarked to Frank, an edge to his tone. "Do you feel that the lawsuit against the Academy for being lax on their security measures was justified then?"
Frank fumed. Sulley was completely off-roading now.
"It isn't my place to say whether the Academy was sued justly or not. I wasn't the one who sued them."
From the way the people in the studio reacted, Frank had the feeling he had just unintentionally dropped another bombshell.
He could see the greed for more information in Sulley's eyes. It was useless to fight it now. Frank decided he may as well give them all exactly what they wanted.
"I spoke up several times about needing support from the staff, but I was repeatedly denied. I was stripped of my earpiece when I needed it to communicate with my counterpart, and I was limited in my access to places backstage where I could have better done my job in order to protect my client."
"Sounds like the Academy really dropped the ball that night," Sulley commented gleefully.
"I'm just stating facts," Frank said coolly.
"If they'd been given more information as to the situation your client was in, maybe things could have been mitigated before the event took place."
"From what I recall they had plenty of armed officers on standby outside the venue that night already," Frank said matter-of-factly. "Are you suggesting the Academy would have canceled the Awards show altogether on account of one slim possibility that someone might have been a target that night? Every event of that magnitude runs the risk of a security compromise. Should every concert, sporting event, and movie premiere be canceled just to prevent someone from possibly getting shot?" He smirked. "My line of work wouldn't exist in a world like that."
Frank could hear Rachel swallow audibly beside him, and he realized then how carried away his exchange with Sulley had gotten. But Sulley seemed thrilled with the turn of events.
"How did you manage to identify the shooter that night?" Sulley asked.
"I'm well-trained in identifying suspicious behaviors. There were many clues that led me to determine who he was," Frank replied cryptically.
"The public has been told that the assassin had disguised a pistol within the framework of a video camera, using a laser to pinpoint his target from across the theater. Was this true? Is that what you saw?"
"Yes, that was true," Frank confirmed, revisiting a vision of Portman in the shadows from that night. "He had his pistol fitted with a suppressor, and I believe he had intended to make the shot and escape before he could be identified."
Sulley looked genuinely interested. "What was going through your mind during all of this? You had to have been terrified once you spotted the assassin. Did you ever think to ask for help?"
"Causing too much of a scene will cause an assassin to act immediately, and any ensuing chaos will give him a greater chance of escape. Asking for help was the last thing on my mind. I knew I had to act alone," Frank said.
"And Rachel, you were approaching the stage while all this was happening. Did you ever once consider you may have been in danger?" Sulley asked.
Rachel nervously licked her lips. "I think I was so caught up after hearing my name announced that I wasn't really worrying about it anymore."
"Understandable," Sulley said, then he looked back to Frank. "So walk us through this moment. You're watching Rachel walk toward the stage, and you can see the shooter on the other side of the theater. You only have so much time to act. What was going through your mind, Frank?"
It was painful to revisit everything, especially with an audience. But the pressure Rachel's hand around his made it bearable.
"I'd been a bodyguard for nearly fifteen years before that point, so life or death situations were nothing new to me." Frank said. "I knew what I had to do. I knew what it would come to."
Sulley raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure a lot of people in that position might be tempted to run and protect themselves instead."
Frank almost smirked. "I've faced that temptation many times before. But the temptation wasn't there that night. That night was different."
"Why is that?"
His heart pounding, Frank paused before turning to look at Rachel. "Because I was in love with my client." There was a soft, collective gasp of appreciation from the onlookers in the room. "I would have jumped in front of her whether I was hired to do so or not."
Rachel's loving gaze was so consuming, Frank barely heard Sulley asking his next question, but there was a definite smile in his voice.
"Rachel, did you have any idea of your bodyguard's feelings for you at the time?"
Never taking her eyes off of Frank's, Rachel replied, "I did."
"And were you also in love with him at the time?"
She smiled radiantly, still staring at Frank. "I was."
Sulley chuckled. "Well, it begs the question, what kept you both apart for all these years?"
"Fear. Pride. Stubbornness. Uncertainty." Rachel shrugged. "The same reasons anyone runs away from relationships."
"Frank, is that why you never returned to your position as Rachel's bodyguard after this incident?"
"Part of the reason," Frank admitted. "I also was incapacitated for a while, as you can imagine, from my injury."
"You were shot in your arm, correct?"
"Left arm."
"How long was it before you were back to normal?"
The grim memories of his brutal healing process came flooding back to Frank. "Months. I still have the scar."
"Well, you're certainly regarded as a hero here in Hollywood, and we're forever in debt to you for your protection of Miss Marron," Sulley said with a smile. "She wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
It felt strange and wrong to be receiving praise for having done his job over ten years ago. But the weight of Sulley's grace was amplified by the likely millions of viewers and admirers of Rachel who watched from their homes.
"Thank you, but I'm not looking for any sort of recognition," Frank said quietly. "Like I said before, I would have done it regardless of the accolades or sense of duty."
Sulley nodded politely. "I know a lot of our audience has been wondering how you two met up again after all these years. Can you tell us the story?"
Rachel exchanged glances with Frank, and with a gentle squeeze of her hand, he gave her permission to tell it. "We both happened to be in Pittsburgh in December and we ran into each other while staying at the same hotel. I was supposed to sing in a Christmas concert, but it ended up being canceled at the last minute. Frank and I spent a lot of time together and things just kind of… picked up right where we left off."
"Very serendipitous," Sulley said brightly. "And obviously we have to congratulate you on the baby – you're due in January, correct?"
Rachel beamed as she placed her hand on her belly. "Yes, right around the corner."
"Can you share with us if it's a girl or a boy?"
"It's a girl."
"Any names picked out?"
She squinted over at Frank. "I have one, but Frank doesn't like it."
Sulley laughed. "He did save your life, Rachel, maybe you owe him this one."
Frank smirked as Rachel murmured contentedly, "Maybe I do."
"There is just one more question I have for you, Rachel," Sulley began, with a significance to his tone. "We've had a lot of speculation over the years about your number one song, 'I Will Always Love You.' Many of us have wondered for years who the song was about. Can we officially confirm our suspicions tonight?"
From the moment Sulley had announced the song name, Frank's gaze lingered helplessly on Rachel's face. With a secretive smile, she carefully lifted her left hand to her chin so that her engagement ring caught the overhead light.
"I would say you can."
Minutes after they'd gone off air, Frank felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He answered the call to hear the voice of Dr. Evers on the other line.
"How much did they pay you to do a live interview?"