Chương 41: Coach

Didn't want to think about the guy I just met sharing the same last name as May. Had to be a coincidence. His eyes weren't blue. Wouldn't she have mentioned a brother before as well? But then he could just be a cousin. Not worth thinking about now. May said she didn't patrol on Mondays, I could ask her when I got back to base. Walking into the parking lot, I glanced around for the driver's car, but she wasn't there at all.

Instead was a similar model of car, or at least the same color and general "look," with someone else leaning against it: Billy, the guy who drove the van. Seeing him in proper daylight let me actually process his appearance. He seemed about as scrawny as Tancred. A bit shorter, too. Honestly, if it weren't for the visible age on his face, I'd mistake him for a teenager. He had a thin mustache, and a pair of blue doe-like eyes. Not in a positive sense, more like a deer in headlights.

He had a smile that looked like it required being in horrible pain to produce. He didn't look like any part of the Super Commission at all, and yet Tancred had him as personal detail.

"Heya there, Leo, I'm gonna be taking you to UVA." His voice had a shaky quality to it, not one like nervousness but something closer to like he had to balance every word carefully. I slowly nodded, shouldering my bag.

"What happened to my other driver?" The man waved it off dismissively.

"She's only behind the wheel during the morning. I do afternoon since I also handle the lunch runs." Such specific coordination. We both entered the car and he took off. I realized now I wasn't sure how someone like Tancred could have this guy. Did he know the same moves? This was honestly a good chance to learn about Tancred specifically.

"So how did you end up here? Were you always part of the Super Commission?" was the question I went with. He shook his head, focusing on the road.

"No, actually, most of my adult life I was Army. I was a staff sergeant, but like not an interesting one. I spent most of my time driving. I fell for that dumb thing recruiters do where they go 'We can get you any job you want once you're done! What do you think you'd like to do for work?' and I was seventeen at the time and just got my license, so I said I liked driving."

"So they made you drive."

"Yep, and when I considered dipping out, the job opportunity they offered was as a trucker. I didn't want to pee in bottles my whole life, so I stayed with the big green weenie. Was getting railed anyway, might as well stick to the one with a retirement plan." Nodding, my head naturally tilted a bit as that didn't answer the real core of my question.

"So how did you meet Tancred?"

"Oh uh, back when he was still CIA, there was a joint operation between them and the Army. Can't say where, they've got mics in these," he said, tapping the dashboard. Great.

"But I was his wheelman. We bonded over some stuff and a month after the op, I got an offer from the CIA on his team on the GRS, the Global Response Staff. Then when he got recruited by the Super Commission, he demanded me and the rest of his team come with or he'd stay at Langley. So now I drive superheroes around."

"Is driving the only thing you normally did in the Army?"

"Technically yes, but I was a combat engineer so I handled basically everything."

"... Including flamethrowers?"

"Oh yeah. I got to use an M9 and the FLASH."

"FLASH?"

"Big quad-barrel rocket launcher."

"You seem pretty excited to have used all that."

"Well, yeah. Wasn't like we used 'em on people. I mostly took down structures, and sometimes like, weird mad science experiments or stuff wizards conjured up." This was the calmest I'd ever seen him. Had to avoid bringing up what else he'd probably used it on.

"Do you... miss it?"

"Hell no! Cool toys mean nothing when you've got no budget, you're in little crappy forts that are mostly tents, and you have almost no support network because there's no marketing messing around in the Middle East! We haven't had any reason to be there since the 80s." Well, he seemed sincere about that. And he knew more than me, so I had no way to justifiably doubt what he told me.

"So this is all just one big upgrade to you?"

"Huge, huge upgrade. As much of a jerk as he can be, Tancred's a great boss and got me out of the crap-show." I nodded along, crossing my arms.

"How much do you know about Tancred?" Looking over at Billy, his shoulders bounced in a shrug.

"Tancred keeps his stuff kinda close to his chest. Like he'll tell you about his personal life, shitty dad, stuff like that, but what actually makes him tick is this big secret in his eyes." Couldn't say that surprised me.

"I know a few things, like how he views himself as being above 'dogma' or whatever. It didn't really make sense to me given he's a ladder climber in the really messed up parts of the government, but I've never seen him do anything bad. There was one thing, though..." My head tilted, and my body unconsciously sat up.

"What's that one thing?" Billy's gaze sat on the road.

"So Tancred doesn't drink normally. But one time we did get pretty sloshed off of some whiskey sours after a job. I was stressing about some girl I was seeing, how there were so many ways it could go wrong. He grabbed me by the tie and he was like 'Billy, pal, bud. Stop looking at shit like that. Life's one big fifty-fifty chance. Either she stays with you or she doesn't. Don't get your scrote all snagged in it.' Was weird." My eyebrow went up.

That sounded like him, but that wasn't something you'd rely on as someone's superior, was it?

"Anyways, she left me. I moved on." Not the relevant part to me, but I wasn't gonna just spit on his explanation on that.

"Makes sense," I conceded, trying to dwell on that explanation. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. It felt like maybe there could be answers in there, but I just couldn't pry it apart. Sometimes things just don't have an answer. But if nothing else, these were details I could hold onto. Maybe baiting a response out of referencing these things could make him play his hand. Worth remembering. The rest of the car ride was quiet as we arrived at UVA.

No parking lot, instead the building was attached to a sidewalk with a bit of a green area. Fine by me. I looked through the car window at the pair of double doors, before glancing at Billy.

"So would you happen to have any directions for finding my room in the drama building, or no?"

"I didn't even go to college. I went to a welding school. I'm certain it's all labeled, you'll be fine." The only option I had there was to nod and get out of the car, pushing through the building. Navigating it was a headache, the doors weren't evenly spaced apart, any attempt at a pattern was pretty intentionally thrown off. After circling about the place twice, I managed to find the room with the same number as on the back of my schedule, and pushed through. No desks. Wooden paneling everywhere.

One wall was covered in mirrors, which made my skin crawl. In the middle was a circle of folding chairs, mostly occupied. In the middle were three people. I recognized John and Martin, but there was a third as well. A woman who couldn't have been more than five feet tall. Practically looked like a child. She perked up upon my entrance, speaking out.

"There's our last one! I waited since I was told you were coming, otherwise I would've started early," the woman explained, accompanying a wave.

"Take a seat!" She sounded chipper at least. I trudged into an open chair, slouching in it before she resumed speaking.

"Alright, so now we can introduce ourselves. My name is Romi Fields, and I'll be your educator. I used to work in Broadway for about ten years before moving into education. This course will have two auxiliary advisors, with John Gabriel and Martin Dyrdek. John is a former pro-wrestler who works in stunts and live performance coordination, and Martin is a Juilliard-trained award-winning actor." Martin looked slightly pained by that as he muttered "Just a daytime Emmy..." The professor continued.

"All three of us will be covering this course, Acting I: Character Development. The premise of the class is we're working on how you can establish and set a character in your mind before any director gives you the go ahead. We'll each be covering different factors based on a live-performance context. I'll be handling the fundamentals, specifically Stanislavski and Meisner's systems." She then waved dismissively as she saw some confused faces.

"Don't worry if you aren't familiar with those two yet, I'll be explaining them in later courses. Our other advisors will cover more specific nuances. John here is going to work around maintaining your image, or as he calls it 'kayfabe,' and audience expectations. Basically he handles the perception side." Romi then gestured towards Martin.

"Martin meanwhile will focus on the delivery side. He's going to help with topics related to projecting your performance, how your voice carries, and some basic vocal training techniques like how to make your voice fry on command or putting on a falsetto. All of this will not be formally tested like in, say, a math or writing class. Instead this is all going towards your final 'project.'" Now my own head was tilting, but she seemed quick to answer the question I didn't ask yet.

"That will be your monologue. Each of you are going to conceive of a character with us, and we're going to help you figure out how to build and perform that character, and then you'll all be tested by delivering to us a monologue you've written yourself and performed based on what we've taught you. The three of us will be then rating it. This makes the class both very easy and very tricky. Your grade won't plummet over time, but it's all or nothing in terms of success." There was something relieving in that.

Meant I had time to actually study for the actual classes if I wanted to convince myself I wasn't something close to an ape.

"Now, instead of introductions, which I think are very pedestrian, we're gonna get to know each other's energy. Have any of you heard of a game called 'Zip, Zap, Zop?'" She looked around. No one seemed to.

"Perfect, I get to teach you! It's very simple. I'm going to point at someone. They're going to say 'Zip,' and then as fast as they can, they have to point at someone else while looking at them. That person says 'Zap,' and points to another person, who says 'Zop.' And then THAT person points to someone, who says 'Zip.' This will go until someone flummoxes on a word, or no one knows who got pointed at, and then we do one big round of applause, okay?" A few nods. Instantly, she pointed an acrylic nail towards me.

Fuck, I didn't even get the rhythm yet. On reflex, I just pointed a finger out to a random student and yelled"Zip!" I accidentally let the chest voice out there. Not a bad habit to build up, I supposed. There was an awkward, rocky set of reactions from others. No instinct in them to instantly react, so they had moments of hesitation. It kept bouncing around, until one accidentally pointed to Martin who said "Znot my problem!" Which was accompanied by the group applause.

I clapped along, only just letting my fingers touch my palm instead of actually putting in any for- Huh. I wondered if I could do anything with a hard clap if I put enough force into it. There was an experiment for later. Would need to find a safe spot to do it. Going on the list. John then spoke up as the clapping died down.

"Alright, one last little exercise since we have a bit more time than we expected. You're all going to walk around the room until I clap my hands and yell 'Pose!' When I do that, you're gonna stop, turn towards me, and strike a pose that conveys strength. I'm gonna rate each one out of ten and some advice. Then we'll loop it and do it one more time. Alright?" Collective nods from everyone.

"Awesome! Outta your chairs!" We evacuated our seats to mill about the room. When we did, Martin and Romi both lunged into a pair of chairs to sit themselves down. There was a solid ten seconds of just... walking around. People were starting to laugh or look confused. It almost felt like we were being pran- CLAP"Pose!" Strength. Strength? How would I convey that by just posing? I've got nothing to pick up, I'm not gonna hit him. Turning towards John, I just awkwardly put my fists up.

My stance was bladed, but kind of loose. I had no idea what I was doing. Flicking my eyes about, I could see others with their own poses. Some had their fists up like I did. Some took more exaggerated poses, attempting to flex non-existent muscle. People were stifling laughter. John looked around the room, pointing to people and giving scores and pithy reviews.

"About a six out of ten. Your wrists are way too curled, just looks like you're giving yourself carpal tunnel. Three out of ten, come on now. Your legs are completely straight. Eight out of ten, I always love the Atlas pose. Didn't expect that one out here." Looking towards who he was talking to, I saw someone dropping to a knee, arms spread out. His fists were clenched tight. Looked almost like a bird getting ready to take flight. Wasn't sure how it conveyed strength.

In my peripheral vision, I saw John turn to face me. My gaze returned to meet his.

"About a six. Your stance is good, but you need to find a face to go with it. You look like you're about to check out of a hotel. No one looks strong checking out of a hotel." After a few more pose reviews, he called for us to start moving around again. Face? Didn't even consider face. I was going to be wearing a mask, why would I need to convey my face? Did I make a face when I stanced up for Technofiend? Maybe that's the- CLAP"Pose!" I thought about it again. Jairo calling me to action.

The thundering in my heart. I brought my stance back together. Tighter. I couldn't even see in front of me properly. I kept imposing the view of Technofiend in front of me. There was no way for me to see my face. The mirrors were to my back. What I did notice was the others not actually posing. All of their eyes were on me. John's voice brought my vision back to him, his own eyes like a deer in headlights.

"Fuck me, pardon my French, that's gonna keep me up at night. Ten out of ten!" Behind him was Martin in his seat. He shot me a toothy grin and gave me a thumbs up. Meanwhile, everyone else just awkwardly stared at me. What a great first impression to have made.