having to yell to be heard over the screams of his fans. “I used to go to bed dreaming about that Divine Ring.”
“Any idea about your first Protections? We have a lot of girls watching tonight who are hoping it’s going to be them!”
Jacks had answered this question in almost every interview now, and the answer was always the same. But somehow that didn’t stop anyone from asking.
“Well, as you know, it’s really out of my hands. The Archangels will assign my Protections, and it’s my job to safeguard their lives.”
“And, as you likely know, William Beaubourg, leader of the Humanity Defense Front, was just released from prison two days ago. He’s already started making threats against Angels on amateur videos on the Internet, and you’ve been singled out in one of them. What do you think about that?”
Jacks felt annoyed for a split second. He put on another smile, fake this time. “Honestly, if we worried about every crackpot with a video camera, an Internet connection, and an opinion, there wouldn’t be much time for anything else, now would there?” He realized he was basically repeating what Mark had told him to say when encountering this question. Now his annoyance was directed at himself.
“I see.” Jamie glanced at her notes. “So let’s be honest, Jacks, can we? What is the best part of being an Angel? Is it the lifestyle? Is it the parties? The fame? What’s your favorite part?”
“Just having this chance,” he said after considering.
“And what chance is that?” Jamie asked.
Jacks’s blue eyes twinkled. “The chance to be a hero.”
Darcy gave a “time’s up” signal to Jamie, who thanked Jacks enthusiastically and turned back to the camera as he stepped away. He moved down the red carpet, stopping to answer questions here and there but using only half his attention. Watching the event unfold, he felt that strange sensation of disconnect overtake him once again. It was as though he wasn’t really present, as though all of this fuss, all of this grandeur, just needed a Jackson doll at its center and not him at all. He’d thought it was just his relationship with Vivian that made him think that way. But now it seemed this feeling had more widespread roots.
Jacks walked past a human being interviewed—a guy on crutches with a hip cast and a bandaged face—and guessed that he was the Protection from Mark’s save last night, soaking up the limelight that came with the territory. Up ahead, Vivian modeled her dress for the Access Angels camera. The reporter, a girl with a fake tan who wore a sequined minidress, nearly fell out of her heels as she fawned over it. “Vivian, this dress is absolutely gorgeous! Tell us about it!”
“Well, Courtney,” Vivian said, and spread the fabric of the skirt gracefully to give the camera a better look, “I thought this would be a great occasion to debut my new dress line. This is one of my favorites, so I’m wearing it tonight.”
“So the line is dresses?”
“Not just dresses,” Vivian corrected. “My line is the total package. I know that girls out there want to look like me not only for special occasions, but for everyday wear too. Even if they’re, say, just going down to get a cup of coffee at Starbucks.”
“Wouldn’t we all like to look like you when we go to Starbucks!” Courtney gushed. Vivian smiled appreciatively.
“I’m also working with an amazing designer on my handbag line, which will be out in the spring.” Courtney gasped.
“Well, Vivian Holycross, have a great time tonight; you look incredible!”
“Thank you,” Vivian said, then added in a mock whisper, “I hope Jacks thinks so too.”
An all-new eruption of shouts drew the attention to an arrival at the curb and Jacks saw his sister step onto the carpet. Photographers shouted as they leaned in for the perfect angle. Chloe posed and smiled, then shifted her weight, posed and smiled again. Then she gave them an over-the-shoulder and revealed
“Any idea about your first Protections? We have a lot of girls watching tonight who are hoping it’s going to be them!”
Jacks had answered this question in almost every interview now, and the answer was always the same. But somehow that didn’t stop anyone from asking.
“Well, as you know, it’s really out of my hands. The Archangels will assign my Protections, and it’s my job to safeguard their lives.”
“And, as you likely know, William Beaubourg, leader of the Humanity Defense Front, was just released from prison two days ago. He’s already started making threats against Angels on amateur videos on the Internet, and you’ve been singled out in one of them. What do you think about that?”
Jacks felt annoyed for a split second. He put on another smile, fake this time. “Honestly, if we worried about every crackpot with a video camera, an Internet connection, and an opinion, there wouldn’t be much time for anything else, now would there?” He realized he was basically repeating what Mark had told him to say when encountering this question. Now his annoyance was directed at himself.
“I see.” Jamie glanced at her notes. “So let’s be honest, Jacks, can we? What is the best part of being an Angel? Is it the lifestyle? Is it the parties? The fame? What’s your favorite part?”
“Just having this chance,” he said after considering.
“And what chance is that?” Jamie asked.
Jacks’s blue eyes twinkled. “The chance to be a hero.”
Darcy gave a “time’s up” signal to Jamie, who thanked Jacks enthusiastically and turned back to the camera as he stepped away. He moved down the red carpet, stopping to answer questions here and there but using only half his attention. Watching the event unfold, he felt that strange sensation of disconnect overtake him once again. It was as though he wasn’t really present, as though all of this fuss, all of this grandeur, just needed a Jackson doll at its center and not him at all. He’d thought it was just his relationship with Vivian that made him think that way. But now it seemed this feeling had more widespread roots.
Jacks walked past a human being interviewed—a guy on crutches with a hip cast and a bandaged face—and guessed that he was the Protection from Mark’s save last night, soaking up the limelight that came with the territory. Up ahead, Vivian modeled her dress for the Access Angels camera. The reporter, a girl with a fake tan who wore a sequined minidress, nearly fell out of her heels as she fawned over it. “Vivian, this dress is absolutely gorgeous! Tell us about it!”
“Well, Courtney,” Vivian said, and spread the fabric of the skirt gracefully to give the camera a better look, “I thought this would be a great occasion to debut my new dress line. This is one of my favorites, so I’m wearing it tonight.”
“So the line is dresses?”
“Not just dresses,” Vivian corrected. “My line is the total package. I know that girls out there want to look like me not only for special occasions, but for everyday wear too. Even if they’re, say, just going down to get a cup of coffee at Starbucks.”
“Wouldn’t we all like to look like you when we go to Starbucks!” Courtney gushed. Vivian smiled appreciatively.
“I’m also working with an amazing designer on my handbag line, which will be out in the spring.” Courtney gasped.
“Well, Vivian Holycross, have a great time tonight; you look incredible!”
“Thank you,” Vivian said, then added in a mock whisper, “I hope Jacks thinks so too.”
An all-new eruption of shouts drew the attention to an arrival at the curb and Jacks saw his sister step onto the carpet. Photographers shouted as they leaned in for the perfect angle. Chloe posed and smiled, then shifted her weight, posed and smiled again. Then she gave them an over-the-shoulder and revealed
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