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A Princess is born!
Ocean Heart, Bodyguard Mishap!
“Idon’t understand.” My uncle sputters from his chair, while sitting across from Mr. Townsend in his office. I pause reading over the newest articles on the iPad that was handed to me and glance their way.
Normally, I don’t have to say much these days. Ever since signing with Big Notes Entertainment or BNE, I’ve had to do very little on my own. Uncle Cliff had been right when he said finding management would change my life. I don’t even remember what life was like before last year, when he signed his name on the dotted line as my guardian, saying that I was now property of BNE. We moved out of our top-floor apartment andinto a giant house. I personally didn’t see the point of having twelve bedrooms but Uncle Cliff wanted it. He started driving flashier cars, ones he called his dream car, and promised me once I get my license, I could get my own dream car. A chef comes in weekly to prep meals for us and make sure I have all my necessities for long days at the recording studio. There are also many things I can’t do anymore. I had to leave public school and am working on completing my education remotely. I’ve lost the majority of my friends and have been forced to interact with other young stars who are close to my age.
I never thought I would hate not being able to have a choice, but every day I wake up and I have something going on. Recording time, workouts, interviews, charity events, award shows, publicity events, and organizing for the tour I will be starting this summer.
Thirty-six states, seven countries worldwide, and all in eight months. My first and I’m determined for it not to be my last. I love performing. I love feeling untouchable on stage, feeding off of the energy from the crowd. Other performers like to tell me the shine will dull someday, but I don’t see how that’s possible. I became an overnight sensation the minute my name dried on the contract. Things have been going great, so Mr. Townsend’s suggestion that I get a handler for the tour is making me just as confused as my poor uncle.
“But I’m her manager.” He looks at me and I nod in encouragement. “So what exactly would someone else be coming in to do?”
Mr. Townsend sighs and runs his hand over his face. I also don’t blame him for being as exasperated as he is. My uncle is a lot and very tiring. He often has an opinion on everything and he likes to be the person in charge despite it not being his company. “Yes, Cliff. You are her manager, her representative. I’m talking about a handler. Ocean’s job is to sing, to attend meet andgreets, and to be as fucking charming as possible. While you’re doing the business side of things, the handler would be with her. Keeping her schedule, making sure she’s prepped, making sure she fucking ate or didn’t eat.”
“Oh.” My uncle goes back to nodding, his face looking thoughtful. “So this person would be with her just to help her. Not to influence her performances or finances.”
“No.” Mr. Townsend huffs and crosses his arms. “I’m in charge of the performance and contract stipulations. You, Cliff, you keep making sure our girl is ready to perform. Let the handler do their job and it will be easier on everyone. If she’d had a handler last week, maybe the issue with her bodyguards and the fans wouldn't have exploded in front of the paparazzi and caused chaos.”
“No one was expecting the paparazzi that night,” I add in. Not many of the people who work for my uncle and Mr. Townsend talk to me, but Theo and Beth did. They were friendly when needed and they were also good at being solid, immoveable mountains over me when needed. I didn’t want them to lose their jobs because we hadn’t been informed that the paps would be aware that I would be exiting the event through the zoning doors.
“Regardless...” Mr. Townsend looks past me and back to my uncle. “This is a needed step. We need all the eyes on her we can get before the tour.”
“Who is it?” My uncle asks, and I’m glad when he does. I know I’m going to want to stalk this person all over the internet before I welcome them into my private life. Or what's left of it anyway.
“Ezra Hamilton. You know George over at Platinum Records, it’s his nephew. Good kid. He’s been working in the business now for a few years.” Mr. Townsend shrugs and rattles off some more statistics after my last video dropped.
I start to tune them out when they settle into figures and media range for the tour. I already know my schedule, so I don’t really need them to tell me much. After my tutoring session tomorrow, I start my string of concerts down the coast before heading south to begin the tour. Deciding to be proactive, I whip out my phone and start googling Ezra Hamilton.
Right away his affiliation with Platinum Records pops up and there is a few mentions of some clients he’s worked with since he graduated college. I know more than half of them so that feels good to me. I can always reach out and see what they think of him. He’s twenty-four, a workaholic, and likes to party on the weekend. Sounds like every other male in this city. I keep scrolling until the first image of Ezra pops up. My stomach swirls and heat spreads across my cheeks. He’s boxing at a charity event, but it's the intensity in his eyes that catches my attention. He’s just as beautiful, if not more than, the other men in the business. And he’s going to be my handler? I quickly close down the app and try to focus. Uncle Cliff is standing, getting ready to leave. I grab my bag and follow him out of the office and down to our waiting vehicle. Today was not what I expected and I need the space to think.
“Don’t you think this is extreme?” I ask my uncle and peer at him sideways in the car.
He huffs. “If Booker thinks it’s a good idea, we have to do what he suggests.”
“But a handler? It sounds like a babysitter. I never get in trouble, that was a one-time incident,” I argue and push my point.
“It shouldn’t have happened at all, Oce. You’re becoming a bigger name, a star. These types of things are bound to happen more often and if a handler can keep you safe and focused over the tour then it’s probably worth it,” he snaps at me.
A blush covers my cheeks and I keep my eyes averted from the mirror where I know Theo is watching. “It’s just another person for Theo and Beth to have to worry about too. It’s not fair to them,” I point out quietly.
“I already talked about that with Booker,” my uncle interjects, his eyes trained on me now. “This guy is already trained. As part of being a handler, he has the basic training of a bodyguard. Essentially, he will hand you off to Theo and Beth. It’s all worked out already. Just let it go, please Ocean.”
He leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. I spend the rest of the ride worried about how this is all going to go down. Maybe it's normal for celebrities to have handlers, but I feel almost embarrassed that a stranger is coming in to judge my life and fix me. Although I’m not sure what he needs to fix exactly. I’ve worked hard to keep my life private and incident free.
When we arrive at the house, Uncle Cliff abandons the car and heads inside, not bothering to wait for the rest of us. I take my bag and my phone and start to walk to the front door when Beth calls my name. I turn to her and she glances around before meeting my eyes.
“Having Ezra as your handler will be good for you. You might not think it right now, but from what I’ve heard, he sounds like someone you need in your corner.”
“She’s right, O,” Theo adds to the conversation, even while his eyes are still focused on the road. “The fact of the matter is that you're climbing the charts. You’re becoming more well-known and your fans are increasing in their obsessions with you. It will be good for all of us to have someone else around.”
They’re right; deep down, I know they are. Beth and Theo are worried about my safety at all times and I know I can trust them. With a small smile, I turn and head inside, locking the front door behind me. The television is on in the sitting room, but I want tobe alone. I climb the stairs to my room and lay my phone on the charger. I change into my favorite sleep shirt, my dad’s college alma mater on the front, before sliding between my blankets to sleep. I can’t shake the feeling that, once again, my life is about to change.
Chapter Three
Ocean
Isomehow manage to make it through the next two days before my first meeting with Ezra Hamilton. I have done nothing but scour the internet for information on him. Besides the one picture of him boxing, he’s almost a ghost. No social media, no school yearbook pics, nothing from college either. The man would be faceless if it wasn’t for that one image. The one that makes my stomach dip in excitement when I see it.
