The stylist gave her long wavy locks of dark hair an extra fluff. Maria gave her the evil eye. The stylist pretended not to notice as she moved on to inspect Maria's makeup one last time. Maria's irritation continued to grow.
"Why the hell am I doin' this, Bode?"
Bode signed his name to a piece of paper that an assistant type had just shoved under his nose before turning his gaze on his wife. He knew he was in trouble when she actually called him "Bode" and not "Sparky" or "Punk" or "Pain" or one of the more colorful names Maria had for him. "'Cause the people want to know all about your little shutout, Spanky," he said, attempting to deflect some of her irritation with a dose of humor.
The response caused Maria to release a low growl deep in her throat but did the trick in silencing her complaints which caused Bode great relief. Now if only she'd get through the press conference without any name calling or fist fights, Maria would finish on her contractual obligation to meet with the press at least once during the season. Her hatred for all things media related was well known and well documented.
"Well, let's get it the hell over with then," she mumbled, shooing the primping stylist away with both hands as she rose to her feet.
Bode moved to her side, placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her out of his office and down the hall towards the Kitsune Stadium's press room. As the pair walked silently, Maria yanked off a rubber band from around her wrist and quickly ruined the stylist's hour of work by pulling her dark locks back up into a ponytail. Bode decided that how she was wearing her hair was not a fight worth having.
The pair came to a stop just outside the room and Maria released a heavy exhale. "I hate this, Sparky. I really hate this," she mumbled beneath her breath in a rare show of anxiety.
He smiled softly down at her, rubbing her back gently. "You'll be alright. Go give 'em hell, darlin'." That drew a hint of a mischevious smile as her dark eyes drifted up to his face. She gave a solid nod to him before returning her gaze to the door and pushing on through.
The camera flashes immediately lit up the room. The team's press secretary stood as Maria silently stalked to the table, retaking his seat as she took her's. He had already explained the rules to those gathered. There was little chance that they would follow those rules.
A number of hands shot in the air and voices clamered for attention. Maria released a bored sigh and leaned back against the chair as the press secretary frowned sternly at the journalists. "Josh," he said, pointing to a particularly slick looking reporter in the second row.
"Yes. Josh Greman from the RhyDin TDL Report. You have allowed your opponents to score only a combined three points over your past four duels. What happened to cause this sudden zone you're in." The man tilted his head to the side slightly to feign interest in the answer, pen poised to jot down the answer.
"Luck," she replied briskly with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Josh Greman was not happy with the answer. "There's got to be more to it than--"
"Next question!" Maria interrupted.
The press secretary pointed next to a young fashionable woman whose outrageously furry wide brim hat must have looked spectacular on a runway but kept bumping into the people seated on the folding chairs on either side of her. "Rumors are circulating that you are once again pregnant. Would you like to comment?"
A gossip reporter. Figured. Maria pursed her lips tightly for a moment before answering. "Are you tryin' to say I'm fat? You wanna come up here and say that?" The woman shrunk into her chair a bit, deciding to leave Maria's two questions unanswered.
"Tactless, little--"
"Next question!" This time it was the press secretary who interrupted Maria, fearful that her muttering was audible to others besides him. He chose a face Maria knew well and one of the few faces in the room that she actually held any bit of respect for.
"Gary Stinwich. RhyDin Morning News. The shutout presumably makes you an MVP candidate."
"MVP candidate, huh?" Maria mused.
"Absolutely. My question is, why should captains vote for you?" Gary Stinwich continued.
"Whoa, whoa. Back up the bus. The captains are voting for MVP now?" Maria asked incredulously.
Gary Stinwich hesitated for a moment, taken aback by Maria's ignorance on the subject to the point he was fearful she was setting him up. "Yes, yes. The captains are voting."
"Well, hell, who thought that was a good idea?" she asked with a shake of her head. "The captains of this league are a bunch of idiots. They shouldn't be allowed to make decisions beyond whether there is one-ply or two-ply toilet paper in the locker rooms." The journalists gathered chuckled lightly, quickly jotting down the quote. The press secretary's laughter was much more nervous, fearful that this interview would quickly go downhill.
He straightened his tie and pointed to a balding man in a threadbare sports jacket who immediately jumped into the fray with a challenging tone. "Christopher Heart from Dueling Reporter. Ms. Graziano, you must feel a bit nervous about turning around to face Team Fist right away in the playoffs?"
"I'm supposed to be afraid of those clowns? They need supervision to tie their shoes," Maria scoffed.
Christopher Heart jumped right in with a follow-up question -- a clear violation of the press secretary's rules for this interview. "All kidding aside, aren't you honored to be considered as an MVP candidate by league insiders?"
Maria frowned at the man, irritated by his tone. Her dark eyes slipped back to Gary Stinwich. "Gary."
"Yes, Maria?" Gary looked up from his notebook a bit surprised.
"What was the Crew's record after the All-Star break?" Maria asked with a hint of a smirk.
He gave a soft laugh before replying, "Six wins and one loss, Maria."
Those dark eyes swung back on Christopher Heart. The smirk and any hint of a smile was completely gone. "Now that's what I am proud of. I don't give a damn about the MVP. It's a useless award. My team just won the division. You got a question about that? If not, the door's thata way." She spoke firmly, jutting a finger towards the door. Her tone challenging the man to fire one back. The cameras flashed again as she continued to hold her arm outward, pointing towards the door.
After a long moment of awkward silence (save the clicking of cameras), the press secretary realized that the woman was not backing down and that now would be an excellent time to end this painful interview. He scurried over to Maria, pushing her arm down and ushering her towards the door. "Thank you all for your time," he said quickly before directing Maria on out the door.
After clearing the woman out of the room without further incident, the press secretary breathed a sigh of relief. Maria brushed her palms off on one another and grinned up at Bode who was waiting there for her. "Now that, Sparky, is how you conduct a press conference."
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