Crowds of adoring fans and barely controlled masses were no stranger to you. Ever since your big debut in several high-grossing movies and a spike of popularity in your music career, you had more people adoring you than most could manage.

That’s why you hired Miguel, a top-rated personal bodyguard. You would certainly need him tonight when you attended your first ever Red Carpet.

In the limo to the event, Miguel sat rigid across from you, his right leg bouncing. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket with a sniff and ran a hand through his hair.

“This night’s gonna be a mess,” he grumbled darkly.