Trancas Canyon

Caravan

Madli could tell by watching the hundreds of bristling fans that her new VIP boss must be approaching. Even at a distance, their energy felt like a rush of water that finally burst when Jaan appeared towering over the crowd. The fans frantically held up their phones blindly shooting in Jaan's direction. Japanese airport security, who were kneeling at the foot of the crowd to hold back the mass of fans, toppled forward onto their hands as the mob lurched forward uncontrollably.

Jaan and the two other bodyguards who accompanied him appeared to be doing a frustrated, halting dance as they fought their way through the crowd. The three of them were all surrounded by a ring of Japanese police officers who struggled against the tide of hysteria. In the middle of them all strode the woman whose name was being invoked by countless frenzied voices.

Fiori was the embodiment of glamorous cool in a vintage designer gown and chic sunglasses. She shuffled along, smiling at her fans with Jaan shielding her from countless outstretched, longing hands. At the very edge of the crowd, Jaan stepped away from Fiori, carefully angling his body to give her just enough access to her fans so she could indulge a lucky few in their request for selfies.

Once Fiori was done, Jaan took her arm gently at the elbow and whisked her away to the safety of a glistening black Rolls-Royce Phantom. Seconds before the sedan pulled away, Fiori rolled down her window and blew kisses to her fans.

"Aishiteru! Aishiteru!"

Long after the tail lights of the Rolls had disappeared into the night, the fans continued to scream. Moments later, the driver slid open the doors to the Sprinter van where Madli was waiting. In climbed a cadre of people. They all looked tired and pale as they stepped into the van, hoisting their carry-on bags. Each one of them looked politely in her direction as they settled into their seats. Then, as if on cue, they all pulled out their phones and began absentmindedly scrolling and typing.

What none of them knew was that Madli had already done her due diligence on social media. Each one of them had Facebook fan pages, Instagram accounts and Pinterest pages dedicated to their respective careers and roles in Fiori's life. It was Carlo, Fiori's long time hairdresser, dating back to her days as an NYU dropout living on the Lower East Side of New York City, who smiled warmly at Madli and extended his hand.

"Hi. You must be the new second assistant."

Madli nodded. "I'm Madli. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Carlo."

Carlo pointed to an apricot toy poodle in a Sherpa bag. "And this is Monster."

Carlo was about Madli's age and dressed head to toe in black leather. His openness seemed to set the tone for everyone else. One by one, they all offered weary smiles and introduced themselves. Eyelle was Fiori's fortysomething physical therapist from Hoboken, New Jersey. She had a blonde pixie cut and a firm handshake.

Santina, a tough and fit looking young woman with full sleeve tattoos on one arm, looked up from her phone.

"Santina. Massage department."

Yuri was Fiori's beautiful Japanese nail artist and Talia, the sexy blonde, was the traveling Pilates and yoga instructor. Mona, a striking African American woman with luminous skin, was of course Fiori's aesthetician. Hannah Chirgwin climbed on board dragging what looked to be a hundred pound make-up case on wheels behind her. Madli had found articles on her in People and InStyle magazines. "Chirgwino" as she was affectionately referred to by her colleagues, was the visionary behind Fiori's show stopping looks as well as her partner in her cosmetics line. She was a hearty Minnesotan with rosy cheeks decked out in grunge attire. She collapsed into her seat and absentmindedly popped a piece of gum into her mouth without even noticing Madli. She sighed as she stared blankly out the window.