Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Missed
Los Angeles, CA
August, 1973
“Are you ready, Mona?”
Ramona stared at her reflection in the mirror, her perfectly manicured image. The stylist her father hired had just left the room, allowing her a few minutes of privacy. She had been preparing for this public appearance for weeks now, however she felt like something was bound to mess up. She was clumsy at times, she never held her tongue. She knew she had to be on her toes and thinking with her head today, rather than her heart.
“Ramona?”
Ramona Harrington turned to face her father as he sat in the small chair behind her in the corner, taking a small drag from his cigarette. He raised his eyebrows, awaiting a response.
“Yes, sorry, just… sidetracked.”
“We can’t have that today, Mona. I need you in this 100%.”
“I understand, daddy. This is just the first time I’ve ever done this on my own…”
“Well, you have years of practice watching your mother and I doing this sorta thing. I’d think you oughta pick something up from us.”
“Yes, but… I’m not you, I’m not her. I’m not composed.”
Mr. Harrington stood, ashing his cigarette in the tray beside the chair. He placed a hand on her arm, rubbing his thumb up and down gently, smiling sadly.
“Use that to your advantage. You’re not composed. You’re passionate.”
Ramona nodded, then brought her arms around her father’s neck, hugging him tight. There was a light knock on the door.
“Ms. Harrington, 2 minutes until you’re needed!”
Mr. Harrington stepped back, before planting a wet kiss on her forehead, making her giggle.
“Knock ‘em dead, Ramona.”
—-----
Ramona took the stage as the announcer called her name, walking immediately over to the middle to meet her debate partner, another candidate for the mayor of Los Angeles. She shook hands firmly, murmured a greeting under her breath, then immediately took to her podium, adjusting the notes placed for her beforehand. Ramona was good at this. She couldn’t let her anxiety creep in. She graduated cum laude from Stanford, much to the disapproval of her male counterparts. She led numerous debates, ones much more heated than the one being held now. She knew she didn’t have much to worry about. However, being a young woman lined up next to an older gentleman with much more experience, she couldn’t help but feel like she was the losing candidate. She would address these feelings later. For now, she needed to pay attention.
“...And that’s why I believe Civil Rights and Gender Equality should be at the top of everyone’s ticket.”
“Thank you Ms. Harrington, very insightful.”
Ramona let out a silent sigh of relief as she allowed her hands to loosen from their firm grip on the podium, watching the mediator begin to wrap up the public debate. Many of the audience had left already, but some were sticking around for the end of it. Ramona hoped she sparked some enthusiasm within the younger audience members.
“Well, folks, you heard it here. Which policies will you be keeping your eyes on most? Crime rates, Civil Rights, or-”
A loud pop cut through the monotone voice of the mediator, followed by a second and third pop. Ramona quickly gasped, feeling a sharp pain in her shoulder, before being shoved to the ground.
“Ms. Harrington, get down!!!”
The small crowd shrieked, confused. Ramona felt dizzy. She watched her opponent being whisked off of the stage quickly as two more guards came out to form a shield around her. She felt her body being shifted, quickly being moved from the scene, her eyes seeing stars. She saw her father’s face, her brother, her mother, before looking at her shoulder. The last thing she saw before she passed out was the color red.
—--
Ramona’s eyes squinted slightly, adjusting to the fluorescents in the ceiling, her eyes fluttering open. She felt heavy. Her head was slightly spinning, but other than that, she was fine. Her mother sat in the corner of the room with a magazine, next to a very large man with his arms crossed, staring at the window outside. Ramona let out a gentle groan and raised her hand to her head.
“Oh, Mona…”
Her mother immediately rose from her chair, rushing over to take her hand. She reached across from Ramona to the side of her head, placing a cool pack on her forehead.
“Mom… what…”
“Shh, darling... Don’t worry, you’re alright. You were… you were shot at during your public appearance on Thursday. They only grazed your shoulder, but they had to do some very minor surgery on your arm.”
Ramona stared at her mom, before feeling her lip quiver.
“Mama… someone… someone wanted to kill me…”
“Oh, Mona, honey… I know, it’s all so scary…”
Ramona’s mother leaned in as best as she could and gave her daughter a hug, brushing her fingers through her hair softly. Ramona sobbed gently, feeling all of the emotion wash over her. She could be likely dead if not for the poor aim of her would be assassin. Ramona’s mother sat up, wiping a tissue under Ramona’s eye to dry her tears.
“There are a lot of scary and angry people out there, darling. Luckily, we have people to protect you.”
Her mother glanced behind her, at the large man who was now staring directly at Ramona with a straight face.
“Mona, because of what happened today, your father and I thought it was best to increase your security for the time being. We don’t want to risk anything else happening to you, so… we hired one of your father’s friends' bodyguards to watch over you.”
Ramona glanced at the tall man by the door, watching the way he uncrossed his arms and nodded very slightly, his eyes moving from her own back out to the window.
“This is Hasan, he’s a professional bodyguard that your father’s friend suggested. He says he is a professional at what Hasan does.”
Her mother looked over at Hasan, smiling sweetly. Hasan brought his attention back toward the two women, his eyes shifting between their gazes.
“He’s a man of few words, I’ve been told…”
Her mother turned back towards Ramona.
“He’s here to protect you for the time being. Your father and I feel like you might be targeted in the future, so we wanted the best for you. We want you to feel safe.”
Ramona blinked, watching her mother’s lips move as she spoke, her eyes slowly settling on the man behind her. He was huge. Vertically. He was almost as tall as the doorframe he stood next to. His cropped hair allowed his angular facial features to present themselves. He had thin wire glasses resting on his nose, and bushy dark eyebrows that furrowed over his eyes. He was stoic, his back leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, one leg slightly crossed over the other. Ramona didn’t know how to feel about all of this. Was she some high level celebrity that needed to hide behind the broad shoulders of her new bodyguard? She wasn’t sure how to feel about things, mostly because her head was absolutely killing her from being slammed to the ground by her previous guards. Ramona wet her lips with her tongue before speaking.
“...Is Daddy okay?”
“Your father is fine. Stressed, anxious, but fine. He went home to keep watch over Kalvin for the time being. As for your public appearance… the future is positive. Um, Hasan, darling?”
Hasan suddenly pushed off the wall slightly, taking two strides over to hand her mother a rolled up newspaper. He returned to his position almost robotically.
“Look here, Mona.”
Her mother’s manicured finger underlined a header for a smaller article on the second page. “Voters Inspired by Mayoral Candidate’s Vision Despite Debate Tragedy”. Her mother smiled.
“You did well, dear.”
“...I hope so… otherwise being here would be for nothing…”
Her mother chuckled lightly.
“Well… I think I’ll leave you to rest for a bit longer. I need to speak to some members of the press about this situation… The paparazzi’s practically been trying to break down this hospital to get inside…”
She sighed while smoothing a crease on Ramona’s blanket, then leaned in and kissed her forehead.
“Rest, Ramona. You’ll need it.”
Her mother stood, smiled sweetly, then turned towards the door to leave. Hasan had already opened the door just slightly, but held it open for her as she stepped through. The door closed shut behind her, and the room was quiet, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Ramona watched the small dainty hands of the clock shift every second, ticking monotonously, until the minute hand had made a full rotation. Her eyes glanced towards her new bodyguard, only to find him looking directly at her. Ramona swallowed thickly, before glancing away.
She focused her attention on the window outside, instead. It had been cracked open slightly, most likely by her mother, she enjoyed the breeze. The curtains billowed gently in the wind, and every once in awhile she would hear a soft chirp from a songbird outside, or the occasional distant honking of a car horn. Despite the relaxing sensation she felt from the sweet breeze, she knew there was something in the back of her head preventing her from resting, and it wasn’t from her injuries.
Ramona faced her bodyguard again only to find he had not moved his gaze. She stared at him in the eyes for what felt like an eternity, before clearing her throat.
“It’s rude to stare.”
Hasan remained still. Ramona frowned slightly.
“...And for your information, I… I don’t need anyone to protect me. I know how to fight.”
Hasan blinked, before tilting his head back slightly. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he went to speak.
“Can you dodge a sniper’s bullet?”
Ramona rolled her eyes.
“Like you can?”
“Well, I’d argue I have a better chance of survival.”
Ramona crossed her arms, watching the tall man finally break his gaze and look outside. Ramona bit her lip, thinking of a smart retort.
“...Well… at least…”
She paused. Hasan looked back at her, one bushy brow raised, wordlessly asking her to finish her sentence. Ramona whimpered silently, glancing down at his thick combat boots.
“At least I’m smart enough to know that those boots are the ugliest thing on earth, and that I would never put them on, and-...”
Hasan rose, walking casually over to the window, causing her to quiet down immediately. He closed the window, lowered the blinds, then shut the curtains, making the room very dark.
“Hey, what are you-”
“Mrs. Harrington suggested you rest.”
Ramona scowled in the darkness, sitting up quickly.
“You’re my bodyguard, not my babysitter-”
She felt a warm, rough hand against her shoulder, gently pushing her down. Ramona squinted in the darkness, only seeing a shadow above her. His voice, though soft, had a heavy bass tone that carried through the whole room.
“Your mother suggested you rest, Ms. Harrington. I think you should listen to her.”
His hand went away. Ramona stared into the darkness, feeling angry, embarrassed, humiliated, all at the same time. She listened to his boots pad the ground, then the gentle creak of the hospital furniture, likely him sitting down in a chair.
“You don’t have to worry anymore, Ms. Harrington. I’ll be here.”
Ramona didn’t know how to feel about that last comment, or how to address it, but she didn’t need to; she was already fast asleep before she even knew it.