The Fandom Wars

Chapter 3

Recap:

My room was a standard contestant's room: full kitchen, spa bathroom, large living space, an outdoor balcony plus hot tub and a king-sized bed with curtains for privacy. It was brightly lit, with a baby grand in a corner and a large holo-screen over the crescent couch.

I think I like being a contestant.

~*~*~*~

I was awoken by the annoying beep of my cell phone ringing. I was immediately alert and sat up, grabbing the phone from the nightstand. The caller ID said 'Moderator Adele'.

I answered with a grumpy affirmative.

"Hello, Helena Baynes?" A woman, late thirties.

"Yes." I clipped.

"This is your first daily wake-up call. I hope you slept well." She spoke confidently in even tones. I knew I wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise until she paused for breath. "Today, you have interviews from 8:30 to 10 am. Afterwards is lunch with the other competitors in the arena cafeteria. Your schedule is then clear until the evening 7 to 9, which has been booked by your mentor. A car will be sent for you for all transportation. Call this number at any time for a re-cap of your daily schedule. Have a nice day Miss Baynes." And she hung up.

I looked at my phone screen in astonishment, then shook my head. It was too early for this.

I debated going back to sleep, but knew that would be pointless. The phone call had woken me at 7 am, and Moderator Adele had said I had interviews at 8:30. I should use the time to get ready. The interviews were very important and I had to look my best.

I showered and carefully did my hair in the curly neat-but-messy style Sherlock perfected. I put on a form-fitting purple dress shirt, slacks and a suit coat. I dressed up with a small silver chain necklace and silver stud earrings. I may be Sherlock, but I didn't have to match him all the time.

I was in the lobby at 7:45, and stepped out of the elevator just in time to see Zion Tredartian climb into an armored Smart Car and be driven away, presumably to his own interviews. My driver arrived a few minutes later, a more sleek black Hatchback. The license plate read 'MORIRTY'. I approved.

I was dropped off at the Michael Bay Recording Studios and escorted in by a small team of the bodyguards I'd seen upon my arrival to the hotel. I was deposited in a waiting room, told to sit, and was left alone. I considered being difficult and refusing to sit still, but if this was a secret test by the moderators I definitely didn't want to fail it. So I sat and I waited.

At exactly 8:30, I stood as the door opened and a tall woman came sweeping in. She was blonde with an appealing face and a dignified feeling about her. She had on a suit of gradients of aqua, which matched her bright eyes. She smiled at me, revealing double rows of pearly white teeth and her face suddenly radiated happiness. "Hello, hello!" She spoke sweetly, with a hint of some indefinite accent. "Oh Helena, it's so wonderful to finally meet you for myself!" She grabbed my hand and shook it enthusiastically. She sounded familiar somehow. "I've read your file many times, and you seem absolutely remarkable! Certainly worthy to represent your strip in the Games." She laughed a deep, throaty laugh, and I remembered.

"Ah, my mysterious caller." I raised an eyebrow. "I was not expecting to meet you in person so soon."

She shrugged and chuckled. "Well, technically I shouldn't have called you so early in the first place, but what no one knows won't hurt then, hmm?" She winked jubilantly.

"May I ask your name?" Despite my greatest efforts, I simply could not tell what her name was. Usually people's name was integrated into their personality and I could tell right off the bat, but I couldn't with her.

"Oh, yes, of course! How silly of me to forget. My name is Natalia. I am the new Head Moderator and television host of the Games." Natalia. Interesting name. Not something common, unknown meaning, unable to predict future actions. No last name either. She was a puzzle.

Natalia smiled happy emotions at me again. "Now, if you are ready, we are going to do your interview."

I nodded, and followed Natalia out a side door, down a hallway and into a backstage area. A few attendants rushed up to Natalia, fixed her makeup and then she immediately went onstage to massive applause from the studio audience. Backstage near me was a TV showing her as the interviews were broadcasted around the world. Natalia was currently smiling her happy smile and re-summarizing the Games like they do every year. I tuned it out as unimportant and started mentally preparing for the questions I knew I would be asked, and I few I figured I wouldn't. At least, I was preparing, until I detected someone sidling up to stand next to me.

I focused my attention to see a tall man next to me, dressed in a casual white shirt, trousers, boots and oddly enough a leather vest that looked more decorative than functional. I observed from a detached viewpoint that his face would be considered fairly attractive, which threw up red flags for me. No emotional attachment. If possible, I willed my features to convey even more frosty contempt for the stupid world around me.

"Hey," he drawled. "What's your name, darling?"

I ignored him.

"Hey babe, I'm talkin' to you." He bumped my shoulder with his. "What's your name?"

I glared at him. He held up his hands and backed away at that. "Hey, I'm just trying to make friendly conversation."

Of course he was. And I often agreed with the Walking Dead fans. Not.

"If it makes any difference, I'll tell you my name." I mentally groaned. He was still talking! "I'm Han Salinte. Star Wars."

I inspected him again, this time comparing him against Han Solo/Harrison Ford. He did look a lot like him, but his hair was longer and a sandy blonde.

I gave a small impersonal nod and turned back to the television. Natalia was just finishing a sentence.

"...so here she is, Helena Baynes!"

A couple stage hands suddenly appeared out of nowhere and pushed me forward and out into the stage. Thunderous applause greeted me, and for a moment I was so shell-shocked I couldn't move. Natalia was grinning and gesturing me forward. I gulped and started forward. I started telling myself that, with Sherlock's good will, I would get through this.

I looked out into the audience then and saw Benedict Cumberbatch, sitting there, frowning.

Crap.