Page 34 of My Big Alien Bodyguard

Iwalk into the Scowl building as though I belong here. People are streaming the streets, and many of them come in and out as I enter. I am just one of many people here to do business.

Because I look like I belong, nobody challenges me as I step into the elevator and choose the thirteenth floor. The first time I did this I was so nervous. I was here to sign the contract that would later ruin my life. I thought I was on the precipice of a whole new life. Instead I was on the verge of destruction.

I try to get a grip on myself, restrain the worst of my bitterness. I can’t come out of this elevator furious. I have to stick to the plan. I have to stay calm.

“Hello, Mr Scowl’s office, how can I help you?”

I am greeted the moment the elevator doors open and Simon’s new receptionist smiles at me both broadly and blankly. She is well put together, and very pretty, and she is utterly professional. There is anin memoriumpicture of me hanging behind her on the wall. I glance up at it and try not to stare. God, I used to look good. I used to really be something special. It has only been a few months since my last concert, but I feel as though I have been changed, ugly duckling to a swan, back to a duck.

“Quack quack, motherfucker,” I mumble, trying to gird my loins, as it were.

“Can I help you?” She repeats the question, with a slightly more fixed smile. I am not on her schedule.

“Sure,” I say. “I have an appointment with Mr Scowl. I’m from the Schlorp Corp.” I hold up the clipboard with the Schlorp logo on it by way of proving that fact.

It works. It works because clipboards, no matter how anachronistic they become, will always wield an arcane power. The authority of a solid clipboard cannot be denied by anybody who sits behind a desk. It’s just how it is.

“Oh, of course,” she says. “He’s busy for the moment, but if you would like to take a seat, I will let you know when he is ready for you.”

“Thank you,” I say.

I sit in the waiting room and I wait for the plan to unfold. Zayne is supposed to be moving through the back passages of the place. This building contains many secret entrances and exits, largely for things like boxes, but sometimes for creatures like hookers and such. Scowl has a lot to hide.

Then something happens. Something we should have been able to predict, something I am ashamed to say we did not take into account. Simon Scowl opens the door to his office and steps out into the reception area. I do not know what devil or animal instinct has allowed him to discover me so quickly, but it feels like he already knows I am here, because he makes eye contact with me as he comes through the door.

He is larger than I remembered, at least twice my size. He smiles when he sees me, his leonine features scrunching his nose up and baring the tips of his impossibly sharp teeth at me.

This is not going the way it is supposed to. Zayne is supposed to be here to protect me, but he is nowhere to be seen. I have only been in the office for a minute or two. It could take him anotherthree or four minutes to come up here. It would take less than a second for Simon Scowl to kill me.

I consider running, but where is there to run? An elevator is not an escape route, and the staircase is too far. Scowl could easily make his way there before I could. He is bigger, he is stronger, and he could run me down in an instant.

So instead of running, I stand my ground even as our plan falls apart at the very outset. I force my lower lip to stop quivering, and I force a smile. This is just another performance, and if there is one thing I know how to do, it is perform.

“Hello, Simon,” I say. “How are you?”

“Well,” he says, his eyes locked on me with a predatory stare. “How are you?”

“Surprisingly…” I let the word hang for a moment. “Alive.”

“Indeed. Won’t you come in. We have much to discuss.” He stands aside and extends a hand toward his office. I cannot help but see the extended claws, weapons capable of shredding my flesh without issue.

I’d really rather not go into the privacy of his office where he can make me dead for real without anybody seeing. I have to hope Zayne appears in the next few seconds.

“Wendy, would you get us some ice waters,” he says. He’s dismissing the receptionist, which means one way or another, we are going to be alone.

She gets up and leaves obediently. I put my hand in my pocket, wrapping my hand around the weapon I stashed here just in case. Simon’s eyes follow my hand. Good. I want him to think Iam armed. I want him to second guess approaching me. I want him to feel a little fear. Why should I experience all of the terror?

“You were foolish to come here,” Simon says when we are alone.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my manager. You hold my contract.”

“You are dead,” he says. “It would have been better for you if you remained that way. But this is you all over, isn’t it, Lyric. You never knew when you had it good. You always had to push and push.”

He takes a step toward me. He is testing me. He does not know if I am armed, or if I have the nerve to use a weapon if I am. I feel the involuntary tremor that comes with finding myself in the predatory presence of a beast that intends to do severe damage to me. The universe thinks I am dead, and Simon is happy to ensure that is not inaccurate.

“You’re not even going to pretend to be happy to see me?” I pout a little. “I thought you’d have been worried sick about me. Especially when they never found a body to back up your story.”

“Nobody cares about the truth. They want a narrative. Something strong. Something that means more than silly facts. You think that coming here and being alive is going to matter? It won’t. And it doesn’t. Your story is at an end. The narrative has come to a close. You were a bratty, disobedient, spoiled little starlet, and you were punished as you deserved to be. Audiences were glad to hear that you had died. There were many who, like me, thought that the spoiled human whore deserved to die.”

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