For the Love of Money

Chapter 13

"Okay, remember what we rehearsed," Hal said excitedly, crowding around my sitting frame like a coach around his star player. "Remember the three Rs: stick to those and you can't go wrong. Think of the audience you're speaking to. People gathered together are like lambs, they're looking for a shepherd. You want to become that shepherd. Be calm and collected, but also be authoritative, passionate. Try not to look anyone in the eye though. Contrary to popular belief, staring at any one person makes for bad display..."

I rolled my eyes and decided to tune him out, my eyes traveling instead to the ornate door in front of me. It was unbearably loud on the outside - people talking and complaining and anticipating - and it was already starting to get on my nerves. A headache, hot and bothered, had started to pulsate across my temple and I could feel my patience - as small as it was - already wearing thin.

And Hal wouldn't shut up.

I refocused my gaze on him and glared. "I think there are a few political pundits out there today," he blabbered on, nervously chewing his nails. "They'll be looking for any opportunity to trip you up. You'll need to choose your words carefully, very carefully. Try not to say anything contradictory or they will eat you alive. And-- what? What's that look for? This is serious, Devin."

I groaned loudly. "I am serious. I'm always serious," I said with a glare. "You're just overreacting. Look Hal," I seared my gaze into his. "I've beaten men within an inch of their lives before. These political pundits don't faze me. Don't worry," I added quickly at the sight of his horrified stare. "I'll be respectful. They'll ask me questions and I will politely give them answers," I said, forcing the words out of my throat. Gross. Now that I'd said it, I'd have to follow through. "I'll do my best to keep it cordial. And, well, if they give me too much lip, I'll just jump down there and rearrange their faces. See how that suits them."

Hal gave an exasperated sigh. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Trust me with the fate of the country, apparently," I said, standing. I peered behind the door, suddenly impatient. "What's taking so long, anyway? If I don't get the attention I want, I think I'll call the manager."

Hal peered at the door uncertainly. "I'm not completely sure, but events like these never go to plan anyway." He gulped. "I'm not sure when things will start to get going, but you aren't going anywhere without your speech. You can use that as reference, I guess."

"Seems like bad planning to give me my speech five minutes before I'm supposed to give it," I muttered.

"Yeah, well, I don't have all the cards in my hands," Hal said, shrugging. "Besides, I hear you're a fast learner."

I narrowed my eyes, a smile forming on my lips. "Was that sarcasm, Hal?"

A red flush traveled up the base of his throat, and he averted his eyes quickly. "What? No! No, I wouldn't, I'm not--it's, it's not my style to be--"

"Whatever," I said, chuckling playfully as his skin reddened ten shades. I sat back down and faced the door, suddenly a bit loosened up, and tried to decipher what the people nearest to it could be saying. But a lot of any conversation between the doctor and crew was being drowned out by the crowd gathered at the Mall.

"What could they be talking about anyway?" I snapped. "Their nails?"

Hal looked at me exasperatedly. "Devin, you're about to deliver a groundbreaking speech exposing the power dynamic in this country for what it is! They're probably excited to hear you!"

"Please," I said coldly. "They're here to watch me like a zoo animal on display, and then after they've been entertained, they'll retreat back to their cozy, vapid lives."

"An interest in the wellbeing of themselves and others is not vapid!"

"Oh yeah? Then why are they all dressed in their Sunday best?"

"They want to look nice!"

"It's ninety-seven degrees outside!"

"It's the style around here!"

"What is? Suffering a heatstroke?"

Hal opened his mouth and closed it, apparently unable to come up with an appropriate comeback. I smirked triumphantly and sat back down, folding my arms.

"Look," he said finally, "I'm just saying that you need to approach this with the right attitude. And," he said slightly forcefully, seeing that I was about to interrupt him again, "that really means taking the bite out of your words. Look, no one like a patriarch--er, I mean a patronizer. And no one likes criticism - in fact you'll find that those that claim to be the most tolerant are those with, like, wine glasses egos. Which means, Devin, you have to be very careful with how you speak today." He looked me deeply in the eyes, the rims of his irises seemingly to quake within the whites of his eyes. "In the realm of public perception, truth does not matter; it's the wrapping that sells the gift. The wrapping, Devin. The wrapping."

I gave him a blank stare. "Hal, that makes absolutely no sense."

He pursed his lips slightly, and looked up at the ceiling. "It will be a miracle—"

Suddenly, the massive double doors crashed open. The doctor bustled in brusquely, sweat staining his brow and armpits. He locked eyes with me and flattened his lips into a thin line. "It's time," he said gravely.

I stood, fastening a suit button that had come loose and inhaling deep. And then I caught a glimpse of the crowd outside - a sea of millions of gawking people, their mouths ajar, their shoulders hunched. Their eyes were like heat-seeking lasers, scouring the air for the cause of the slight disturbance. Like whiplash, a crash of anxiety hit me in the chest, and I found my breath lodged in my throat. My previous ease evaporated into the air, and icy fear pulsed through my veins.

Shit. 

Shit shit shit. I couldn't move.

A hand. I spun and caught sight of a small hand gripping my shoulder tightly. Hal.

"Devin..." his voice trailed off, but his eyes seared fortitude into me. "Just remember to stay calm and be yourself," he said firmly. "You've got this."

I swallowed and released the chokehold on my breath. I nodded. "Okay."