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I snapped back into reality and slammed back into my seat. “Perdón, Señor Castillas.”
Silence stretched between us as long and wide as the road we raced across. Calling him by any name sounded strange. I had spent the last several years listening to his first name over and over on broadcasts. His proper name was plastered on walls and written in both newspapers and magazines. Antonio would be wholly inappropriate, though my mind resorted to that title.
Señor Castillaswas annoying and awkward and meant for someone much older than twenty-one.
I let out a long breath as the city blurred in tones of deep green, orange, and black. It was still the preferable name to use.
The structures had already thinned again when the car slowed down. We pulled into a building that looked far more modern than many of the places we had passed along the way. Judging by the rows of windows, it looked to be about four stories high, and the outside of it was plated in a gray matte metal.
My breath hitched when I saw the crowd of people and a thick wall of photographers waiting outside.
“Is this the place?” I asked. My stomach churned.
Antonio nodded while maneuvering the car into a shaded parking spot.
I hesitated. This entire experience was a study in flying blindly for me. No one was good at communicating, and it made my stomach twist up in knots. “Is there anything specific I should know about how to act in there? Will we be meeting with others? Do I have to… talk to them?” I asked quietly.
There were so many people.
Antonio turned off the car and angled himself toward me. “You don’t need to do anything but smile and wave at them. You have a public relations specialist for a reason.” He took a deep breath. I felt marginally better. “Myself and the seven other mentors assigned to competitors from the Quinta Isla share this center. Only three of us have a singular candidate to coach. The rest have between five and nine.”
I looked up at him. “So… it’s just you and me?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “We will not be working with them, but we share some rooms and medical staff for things like nutrition consults.” He glanced at the outside, and I followed his gaze to spot another man holding the door open for a group of young adults similar in age to myself. I recognized their faces, but couldn’t recall their names.
Very few cameras pointed at them, with the majority occupied by Antonio’s classic car. Their expressions were guardedly copacetic. Were they relieved? Or mad with jealousy at whoever was sitting in the mysterious car? Did they know it was me?
Then, I remembered the young man named Isaac with curly, golden hair and had sat next to me while waiting to audition. Would he be here?
With his hand on the handle, Antonio paused and said, “Carmen, you cannot talk back to me while we’re in there.”
I looked back at him, squinting after the flashes started. His face was serious, molded back into a study of sharp cheekbones and a powerful jaw. He was a privileged man, and he wasn’t doing any of this out of the kindness of his own heart. There was a lot on the line for him. Like being labelled as a sympathizer as he had once mentioned. Disloyalty, even perceived disloyalty, was dangerous.
This was my life, and I was painfully aware I would not get another.
I nodded slowly, and Javier and Manuel pulled into a space two rows away. “I will. But only if you promise to stop calling me by my name. For a man who insists I be careful every second of the day, you are incredibly careless with that poisoned alias.”
Antonio popped open the door. “Why? I could merely write it off as an inside joke.”
I followed him and we exited the car together.
The crowd roared with applause. They screamed my name—the false name—and lunged toward me. I flinched and then looked back at Antonio. “I don’t want to share any jokes with you.”
The doors shut simultaneously without either of us pushing them closed. I jumped out of the way and yelped.
Antonio laughed, as did some of the crowd.
I glared at him before I recognized what a foreign sound it was.
I opened my mouth to cut him off.
He crossed to the front of the car and shook his head, all levity gone. “Don’t you dare. We are in public. Appear pleasant, for the sake of all you love,smile, or there will be a price to pay.” His warning caused chills to blossom along my back and up and down my arms. He waited for me to join him and then we walked to the door.
“Renata, can you confirm the exact country they shipped you off to after your parents died?” someone shouted.
I blinked.
Another person tried, “Do you have your marriage sights set on any other candidates? Will there be romance for the golden girl?”
