Haley

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she snapped angrily as her car came to a halt. “This is the third time this week!”

Uttering a string of curse words that would make a nun blush, she drove on until she found the first open unmarked parking spot, and pulled in. Exiting her little black electric vehicle, she grabbed her bag and headed back up the aisle, ignoring the slight incline of the parking lot.

When she approached the spot marked Reserved – Haley Salvannah, she worked her mouth, and let the most un-ladylike wad of spit fly. It splashed all over the bright shiny red sports car, marring the pristine shine.

“Fuck you, Kevin Wallerday,” she muttered.

Haley took two more steps before she came to a jerking halt, realizing what she’d just done. Suddenly self-conscious she pretended to fix some buttons on her blouse while surreptitiously looking around to see if anyone had witnessed her transgression. When she didn’t see anyone standing still pointing in horror at her, she allowed a little smirk to cross her face, then continued into the lobby of the building that housed her work. It was a six-story high whitewashed office building on the outskirts of downtown. Absolutely nothing special.

But it paid her enough to squeak by, and that was all that mattered in the long run. Even if the drab exterior was only surpassed by the interior in its blandness. Builder-beige paint abounded everywhere except where it absolutely had to be a different color for the cameras and film crews to ensure they got decent shots. Oh, and the executive office of one douchebag misogynistic asshole named Kevin Wallerday.

He parked in her spot on purpose. The only consolation that she took in it was that he had to be at the office before she did to ensure he got the spot. Complaining to him would only get her another thinly veiled hint of what she had to do to get ahead. She wasn’t sure why he continued to try. There were other girls in the office who took him up on his offers, though there were others who turned him down, like she did. He was an old, lecherous creep, who somehow hadn’t been arrested yet.

Maybe one day she’d manage to take him down without losing her job, but until then, Haley needed it. Her role as lead on the morning show Longhorne Local Today was an amazing stepping stone to a future career in news or showbiz. She could do a lot with it…after she had more experience. Three months on the job just wasn’t enough for anyone to give her the time of day yet. A few years, and she could leave for a bigger city job somewhere. Anywhere but Longhorne.

The elevator dinged and she stepped out onto the fifth floor. The first thing she saw was three chickens go by. Not the farm animals, mind you, but three grown adults dressed up as kid-friendly chickens.

“Great. Is it that time already?”

The studio she worked for shared space with a kids’ production. They filmed for a week solid every three weeks. When they did, it was hell for her regular team. The floor was filled with animal costumes, animal calls echoed through the floor—a cow mooing had actually been so loud it had made its way onto her live show one time!—and more.

She hated it.

“Excuse me,” she muttered, shoving her way past an idle…she didn’t even know what it was. Some sort of alien space baby. Dressed in neon green. With antenna on its head and a face that would make a mother cry.

How does any of this stuff even sell?! I’d never let my child watch this. They’d be having nightmares for months.

Finally her office loomed. That was one perk of being the host. She had her own office. Not a cubicle, but a solid-walled rectangle with a real honest-to-goodness locking door. Slamming it closed, she dropped the blinds on the glass insert. Her bag hit the desk with a dull thud of the abused laptop within and she slumped down into the chair with a strangled sigh of relief.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She jumped.

“WHAT?!” she screamed.

Today was not her day.

“Haley? It’s Aimee.”

“Oh, shit. Come in,” she said apologetically, opening the door for her assistant and one of the few genuine people who worked on the show. “I’m sorry.”

“Kevin park in your spot again?”

She nodded. “And then the…the...” she paused, thinking for words. “Things. They’re back at it again this week. How lovely.”

Aimee giggled. “Oh come on, Hales, they aren’t that bad.”

She gave her assistant a level look and lowered her voice. “That’s only because you’re sleeping with the yellow cow.”

Aimee blushed. “Stop it, you know what I mean.”

Haley just smiled. She’d walked in on the two of them early in their dalliance, but had declined to mention it to anyone. Aimee was a good woman and the guy seemed pretty nice. They’d quietly gone from sleeping together in the spare-equipment closet to actually dating, and she couldn’t be happier for her assistant. Not that it prevented her from dropping the occasional crude comment about it though.

Especially the yellow cow part. That had been the costume of the day for her now-boyfriend, and he’d still been mostly in it…though there was a flap and Aimee had been…anyway, it didn’t matter now, she thought with a smile.

“Okay, so what’s on tap for today?”

“Well, Glenn isn’t here. Nor does it sound like he will be here.”

“Wow. Big shocker,” she replied with an annoyed shake of her head. “Who the hell is he sleeping with that he still has a job? Seriously, that guy misses more episodes than he makes, and he still gets paid? I miss one day because I had food poisoning and was in the hospital getting an IV, and I get written up!”

That incident still irked her. Glenn Cordorey was her supposed co-host. When he showed up. He was a drunk, but he cleaned up nicely and had a voice that apparently viewers enjoyed. Which was enough to keep him employed. Somehow.

“What else?” she asked, not wanting to dwell on the subject.

“Nothing, really. Everything else seems to be going to plan.”

“Well there’s a shocker. All right, so we’ll start with the segment on the potential flooding and its impact along the waterfront? Do we have the footage?”

“Yep, it’s in editing now.”

“Awesome, so from there let’s talk about…”

The rest of her meeting went quickly as they planned out the show. It was live, so everything had to be done ahead of time for background shots, getting people to interview, etcetera. Then she and Aimee planned out the order of things to ensure that they spaced out the “good” content with the filler stuff, to keep people interested the whole show. There wasn’t always enough “good” stuff to fill an entire half-hour episode. Sometimes there was too much. So they had to be prepared for anything.

After that she went to the makeup department—also Aimee, but just in a different area with proper lighting for doing that sort of thing—and then it was on to her hosting desk in front of the cameras. Haley felt most at home there. Despite many of her other complaints, she had a good crew that worked with her, and she knew she had it good there. They knew their jobs, and it always turned out amazing in the end. Today would be no different.

“Okay, Haley, we’re going live in thirty seconds,” the director said at last.

She shuffled some papers and glanced to her left. “Still no Glenn?”

Andy, the director, shook his head in the negative. Haley eyed the empty spot once more. With a carefree shrug of her shoulders, she slid her chair to the center of the desk and pushed Glenn’s unused seat out of the way, so that it wouldn’t be in the frame. She saw an assistant dash forward and snatch it to remove it completely.

Andy held up both hands, fingers splayed wide. Ten seconds he mouthed to her.

Haley licked her lips, took a deep breath, sat up straight and—

There was a commotion somewhere in the back of the studio. The lights were shining on her, and she couldn’t see past them, but something was going on.

Five, Andy mouthed, before looking over his shoulder. Even as he did, his fingers counted down for her.

Four.

Three.

Something big blocked out one of the set lights way behind the overheads.

Two.

A figure was walking toward her. Andy turned entirely to face it, leaving Haley to do the countdown on her own.

One.

She launched into her opening spiel as the red light came on overhead, indicating they were now live on air.

“Hi, I’m Haley Salvannah, and welcome to the Longhorne Local Today,” she said smoothly. “We’ve got some interesting and downright exciting things for you on today’s show.”

Her left peripheral vision showed something happening, but she doubled down on her focus, trying her best to ignore it. If Glenn had just showed up now and was expecting to get on for the opening segment, he was in for big surprise.

“First up, I’d like to talk to you about…”

Haley’s voice died as a figure stepped onto the stage, pushing Glenn’s chair in front of it. But it wasn’t Glenn. She didn’t know who he was, other than that he was absolutely massive. She barely came to his waist, sitting down as she was. He placed the chair, and still without saying a word, sat in it gently, ensuring it would support his bulk.

“It seems we’re not wasting any time today,” she said with a smile, trying to roll with the punches. She glanced at the hulking figure. He was looking forward, trying to appear calm, though the tightness of his shoulders told her it was all a lie.

“Welcome to the show. Did they get your mic working?” she asked the unknown intruder.

“My what?” The huge head pivoted on a neck built purely of muscle until his powerful brown eyes locked onto her. She saw the pupils dilate immediately as he took her in, his nostrils flaring slightly. Haley knew she should have been offended by the hunger in his eyes, but she wasn’t. Not in the slightest. In fact…

Oh dear. No. You are not going to go crazy over the guy who crashed your show. You’re not!

“Your microphone,” she admonished with a smile. “Don’t tell me they let you on stage without the mic?”

“Umm,” he fumbled.

“Well folks, even the best-laid plans can still go awry sometimes,” she joked with the audience. “While we get the technical difficulties sorted, here’s a word from our sponsors.”

The red light died two seconds later as the crew killed her feed and ran the first splice of commercials.

“Who the fuck are you?” she asked, waving back the microphone crew that had come forward to hook him up.

“My name is Maximus Koche. I’m—”

“I don’t give a shit. Get off my set,” she snapped.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I need you.”

Well, that was blunt.

“You need me? I’m sorry to hear that, because you can’t have me.”

The big man’s face scrunched up. “That’s not what I meant,” he growled, his voice dropping several octaves, the thunder of it rolling over her.  “I mean I need your help.”

“My help?”

Now she was intrigued. It was the first time anyone had ever crashed her show before while looking for help. In fact, she was pretty sure it was the first time anyone had ever crashed her show.

“I’m not sure what kind of help I can be,” she admitted.

“I need to send a message.”

Thirty seconds, mouthed Andy.

Wait. They were going back on air with this guy? No. Not happening! She would be ruined.

“Andy!” she protested, but her director just shrugged, and gestured behind him.

Haley focused, and then suddenly she realized that this Maximus fellow hadn’t come alone.

“You hijacked my show,” she complained.

“It was necessary. I am sorry about this.”

“You’re going to ruin me.”

“You sure know how to guilt trip someone for doing what must be done,” he replied, adjusting the mic that her crew had finished putting on him.

“I don’t even know what we’re doing,” she complained.

“I told you, I have a message I must send out.”

“You could be calling for anything with your message.”

His striking eyes grabbed hers again.

“I am calling for the end to the genocide of my people.”

Haley’s mouth formed a small O-shape as she felt the power behind his words.

Who was this guy?

And why her show?