#5: The Introduction to Rookie Season 2010
Minarin HQ was an old red brick tower on the outside, but inside was constant renovation. At the front were vertical displays with banners of local Minarin artists.
Jeff stood at the front, watching a Rock Symphonia performance by Karu Hanaki. He shivered, but he smiled, gripping the official ID; he couldn’t believe he would walk into this very building as a trainee. On his shoulder was a bass guitar in its case, like the acceptance letter requested.
A green SUV pulled into the drop-off point. Out came a man with a wavy blue ponytail, and behind him, a boy with big blue eyes, glowing in the sunset.
Jeff wanted to scream, but his throat closed up. Karu was a beautiful goth man, and he was a nightwalker whose only defining features were his red eyes and sparkly purple skate shoes. Without thinking, he ran up to the two and struggled to get the words out. Eventually, he gave up on speaking, and flashed his ID.
It was the man on the digital banner. Karu looked up at him, and allowed this stranger to speak. He formulated a question before replying, but as soon as Jeff flashed his ID, his yellow eyes lit up. “May I see that ID?”
Jeff dropped the card in Karu’s hand, then marvelled over his slender face and freckles on his cheeks. His eyes really did glow in the dark. Please like me, please like me, please like me, were the most coherent thoughts he could make right now.
Karu rubbed his fingers against the plastic, and moved it in bright light to find the foil insignia. It was all there. He smiled, then returned the ID. “I’m a leader this year. Come in. I’ll show you the way.”
Jeff relaxed. He followed them into the gold and light timber foyer, where they queued at the reception. Toren confirmed his ID, then Karu waited for Jeff to confirm his own. The process was a few questions relating to Jeff’s personal details. It was only three, but it felt like forever.
“Where’s Meltova?” asked Karu, keeping his deep voice soft.
“Inland South,” said Jeff, grimacing out of embarrassment.
Karu recoiled from Jeff’s deeper, bassier voice. “Never been. Do you sing?”
The involvement brought a smile to Jeff’s face. “I try.”
“Come on. Here’s the hard part.” Karu guided Jeff through a frosted glass doorway, holding Tor by the shoulders.
Inside was a corridor, filled with a prowl of tabloids behind velvet rope, all readying their cameras and microphones with wide grins. Jeff winced, grabbing Karu by the arm.
“What’s wrong?” asked Karu over his shoulder. Jeff’s electric nerves ran through his own body, so he remained patient with him.
“I have seizures,” Jeff whispered.
If even a stranger lied in earshot, Karu’s right eye would pang. This time, it didn’t. “No flash!” he barked across the room.
The prowl put down their cameras, and stared at the three instead. Karu read the room, wondering why they would stop taking footage. Then, he looked at Tor. He let go of his son’s shoulders, then gave the all-clear for Jeff to walk through.
With 300 eyes on the three, they made it to the end of the corridor. Through a door, they entered an auditorium with fold-out chairs, most of them filled with people and their instruments. At the front of the stage was a familiar green faux-leather jacket with matching sharp eyes. Jeff squealed, unable to think of his name. He followed Karu and Toren towards him and listened to the small talk.
Karu brought Jeff forth. “This guy followed us in. Heiran, I believe.”
Jeff turned pale at the sight of two legends.
The green-jacket man looked up at him, his expression becoming more scrutinising. “Do you want a seat?”
“Sit next to Tor.” Karu reserved two seats at the front for them, while he stayed standing at the front.
Tor kicked his legs above the ground, but with his hands clasped together. Jeff stayed upright, with his knee bouncing. He finally remembered the name: Matt Kovatar, son of Aaron Kovatar, the CEO.
“That’s everybody,” said Matt. “We have a few minutes to start.”
“Let’s go.”
The two men took a set of stairs onto the stage. There were no microphones or technicians, just a black wooden stool.
Matt sat on the stool with the tablet in his lap. Now, the nerves got to him, and he took a deep breath. Performing was one thing - public speech was another. “Welcome to Minarin Studios HQ, and welcome to your new traineeship. We are your leaders this year.”
The more Matt spoke, the more Karu heard an air of confidence surfacing. After the introductions, it was his turn to speak. “You may have noticed the tabloids on the way in here. We’re sorry, but if you’re aged 18 or over, you’re free game to get captured on camera or audio. However, a new law has been passed. If you’re under 18, the tabloids need parental permission to capture footage of you.”
So that was why those guys outside lowered their cameras, Jeff thought. Hopefully by the end of the night, the vultures would leave.
Older teenagers fidgeted through the induction, all expecting an immersive experience out the gate. Jeff calmed himself by listening to Matt and Karu’s soothing Wita accents, but couldn’t bear to look at the new Duke of Kerangi, Toren. After this was a video message from Aaron Kovatar, and a tour of Minarin HQ.