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“Hollis will get to be the face and voice for youth to look up to,” Mom said. She smiled at me, and I swear her eyes looked glassy. “We always knew he had a strong voice.”
“Exactly. TCF is banking on Hollis to turn this sport from its perceived dirty image to making it a household name and an event that families can bring their kids to. And kids will want to go.”
“Even though we signed with you a few years ago, we never thought this would turn into such big events,” Dad said.
“Vin was going to touch on this tomorrow night at dinner, but I think after this weekend, you should prepare your family for instant stardom. Before you leave town Sunday, there will be some things for us to arrange. One of them is security for Hollis and your family. And please don’t be alarmed, but Hollis still has a few months of high school left. One of the things the security firm will do is be on campus to assist with keeping the media away. The media will be your worst enemy and your best friend. Since you are Beverly Hills residents, this type of behavior is already built into society there. Media is everywhere, and I’m sure lots have tried to get photos of celebrities’ kids leaving school, etc. The security firm will handle this. Vin will talk more about it tomorrow night, and I’ll be in L.A. next week to help with all of it. But as of right now, TCF will be assigning a security team to your family. The men upstairs are four whom we’ve hand selected for you. They work with a nationwide security firm that handles things for athletes and celebrities. They’re very used to this type of assignment and work to give your family privacy.”
This all sounded crazy, and I couldn’t believe it was happening. I also thought of how much Chase would get a kick out of it.
“So, back to the question of what I’ll be signing tomorrow,” I asked.
“T-shirts, hats, posters, and gloves mostly. We’re literally expecting tomorrow afternoon to go the same as it would for established fighters.” Corey laughed and then shook his head. “All of our existing TCF fighters will be at the morning session. The place has been buzzing all week with excitement over Hollis.”
“You already have T-shirts and posters of me?”
“Yes. Everything is set. The dragon logo we have on your team’s shirts will be the logo on your merchandise. Kids can feel like they’re part of Team Dragon.”
“That’s so awesome,” I said and looked at my parents.
“It is. And don’t worry, I’ve set aside some merchandise and press bags for you to take home too. I know you have two brothers.”
“Patrick too,” I said and flung my arm around him.
“Patrick gets one too, but we also have some other special gear for him.” Corey smiled at Patrick. I was so grateful the TCF people, Corey and my trainers especially, knew that Patrick was going to be glued to my side… until he no longer wanted to be. “I have a bunch of polos and a few ties for you, Patrick. You and I can get together perhaps during lunch tomorrow, and I’ll go over everything.”
“Yes, I’d like that,” Patrick said. He seemed to stand even taller now, beaming with pride.
“Get some rest, Hollis. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow,” Corey said. He walked us to our elevator and then said he’d be back in the morning to pick us up.
“I think I’m going to take a long bath and turn in after I call home and check on Morgan and Chase,” Mom said as we rode the elevator up to our floor.
“I’m pretty tired too,” I admitted.
“Patrick, do you need anything?” Dad asked as we got out of the elevator.
“No, I’m okay tonight,” Patrick replied.
Patrick had ongoing pain in some joints in his writing hand, back, and ribs. Sometimes he was fine and didn’t need anything, and other times he needed medication for the pain. The doctors prescribed a pain killer for him to take as needed. Given the circumstance where I caught him with the pills back when we were in tenth grade, I worried about what a prescription would do to him with it in his hands to take at free will. I convinced Patrick to talk to my parents and let them know he’d feel better with them holding on to the medication. He wanted me to be there when he talked to them, and I had no problem being by his side for it. He let them know that he had been using his stepmom’s pain killers often and that he had concerns about his ability to resist taking them too much. My parents kept them locked up, and Patrick knew he only needed to communicate with them that he was in pain and needed a pill. He also had stomach issues that were a whole other story.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins,” Steve said to my parents as he and the three other men in suits stood. Steve turned his attention to me and nodded before saying, “Evening, Mr. Ward.”
Mr. Ward.
It was odd to hear someone call me Mr. Ward. Ward was the last name I decided to use for privacy. To the TCF world, I was Hollis Ward.
“Hey,” I said and nodded back.
“Mr. Dawson, good evening,” Steve said to Patrick.
Patrick and I looked at each other and tried so hard to stifle our laughter but just couldn’t.
“It’s their first time being called mister anything,” my dad said.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. This is all new to me,” I admitted.
“Me too. I’m sorry,” Patrick said.
Thankfully the security guys were really cool and laughed it off with us.
