The Atlantic Coast Conference Kickoff Event was, at its core, a dog and pony show.

Newly minted Head Coach Chris Riley (who'd been promoted from offensive coordinator at the end of last year after Clemson's long-time, two-time national championship winning coach moved on to the NFL) would lead this season's captains around by a metaphorical leash, have them do a few tricks and pose in front of every single media outlet that covered college football. 

And it was mine and Mara's job to make aesthetic, entertaining content out of that for social media. As we both sat on the floor of our hotel room in downtown Charlotte that Saturday morning before the first phases of the event started, we were still trying to figure out what exactly that content would be.

"I know it's not that original, but I like what Kayla did last year," I mentioned as I finished putting together the handheld rig where our shared department iPhone would go to capture all the quick, necessary media content. Mara would have the DSLR camera and be in charge of more professional photos that would be posted on social media and the website. "Like the whole go through media day with us type of thing. I think that goes over well on Instagram and stuff."

"I'm still not clear on this whole schedule," Mara said with a shake of her head. "Is media day today or tomorrow?"

"So today is radio interviews, television press conferences which they air on ACC Network, and all kinds of panels they'll have the guys and Coach Riley on, along with the rest of the teams," I explained to her. "And then tomorrow is like these breakout sessions that I still don't really understand, Reid has some special College Gameday interview, and then the preseason rankings release and that dinner at the end to close it out."

"Right, right," Mara nodded, the corners of her lips upturned just slightly. "Can't believe Reid even agreed to a special interview."

The only reason I was really privy to information about Reid's interview was because of my work study internship. Since I was there for Clemson media and not ESPN, I wouldn't be involved in the interview at all, but Mariah let me know that Reid had agreed to do it in the first place - and for some reason, gave me credit for his willingness to do so.

I just offered Mara a shrug. "I think it's meant to be aired as part of the College Gameday content when Clemson plays Georgia in the season opener."

"It's still crazy to me that people are that interested in him. He's like a football Kardashian." Mara turned the Nikon on and pointed it in my direction. "And we're just part of the paparazzi crew."

I chuckled. "Well, that is kind of our job. And we need all the content we can get if we're going to do this right."

She put the camera down and smiled one of her big smiles. "At least there's free food!"

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The media workroom opened at 9 AM, where the ACC Network analysts and reporters who were more or less the emcee's of the event would start their TV broadcast, and it would be nonstop throughout the day until the event closed at 4 PM. In between the press coverages of individual players and coaches, they'd pull in other players and coaches to speak with to fill the time.

I couldn't begin to fathom how someone could handle so much talking and schmoozing, getting poked and prodded like a piñata and being expected to spit out candy all day. As we waited in the hotel lobby for the guys before we all walked into the controlled chaos together, Reid Thoughts™ rattled around the inside of my head. Reid's injury and his readiness to play would undoubtedly be at the forefront of every conversation and interview he had. I only wondered how much candy he had before he started spitting flames.  

Since we were media personnel and thankfully wouldn't be seen on television, Mara and I could get away with wearing jeans and Clemson shirts, as long as our media badges were on display. However, the boys were expected to be in suits and ties, and JJ being the fashion aficionado that he was, took it a step further in a deep red velvet jacket and those trendy, rimless Cartier glasses.

"I didn't even know you wore glasses," I chided JJ.

"I don't," JJ smirked. "But I have a responsibility to be the best dressed player here."

"Oh, oh, I have an idea," Mara perked up and motioned for me to give her the handheld rig with our iPhone on it. "Let's do what they do at the Met Gala. JJ, walk me through your ensemble please."

JJ looked directly into the camera and slid his glasses down with a grin. "So I am fully outfitted in Loewe, I was lucky enough to see their show at New York Fashion week and I just love their vibe."

JJ took a step back and did a slow spin on the heel of his leather loafers, the sly grin he wore morphing more into a giddy smile. "I just love fashion man."

Micah Downs appeared beside JJ, giving his shoulder a friendly shake. As friendly as a physically imposing linebacker can appear. "Don't let him fool you - I dressed him this morning."

JJ scoffed and shrugged Micah off. "You wish."

"Well then what about you Micah?" I asked him with an amused smirk. "Give us your fit, if you're so fashion savvy."

"Oh, well..." he chuckled sheepishly, brushing his hands down the front of his navy suit jacket. "I didn't wanna upstage anyone, ya know? I had this tailored at M. Dumas last year, I like to keep it classic."

JJ frowned, almost comically, and shoved Micah's arm. "You couldn't upstage me if you were on Broadway."

While we all shared a laugh, Mara had spun on her heel to turn the camera. I followed her gaze, and it was as if the whole world had slowed to a stop as Reid had strolled into the lobby, followed by Coach Riley.

I told myself I had control of my heart despite its insistence on skipping and jumping at the sight of Reid, his light blue suit plain but perfectly fit to his body, and his hair artfully and purposefully disheveled. I took a breath and steadied my rebelling organs as he joined our little circle.

"Okay Reid, your turn," Mara told him, camera still rolling. "Give us your fit check."

Reid let out a humorless chuckle. "Uh, no thanks, I'm good."

"Please?" Mara pouted. "Don't be a party pooper."

That got a laugh out of JJ and Micah. Reid rolled his eyes and somehow landed his gaze on me, his scowl softening. I offered him a smirk and a shrug in return, as if to say this is out of my hands. It was actually directly in my hands, but he deserved to be seen outside of a football uniform too.

Reid pinched his mouth together into a thin line, raking a hand through his hair. "My mom picked this out for me at Macy's. Satisfied?"

JJ and Micah laughed again, but the moment Reid turned his gaze onto them, the silence that followed was abrupt and all too telling as to the power Reid had over them. They were all captains, but Reid was the captain of the captains.

"Very," Mara finally dropped the camera with a grin.

Now that everyone was present, we started to make our way through the lobby and to the back of the hotel where the media workroom was set up.

"Your mom has good taste," I told Reid as I nudged him in the side.

He rubbed the side of his pink cheeks with his hand, a faint grin hidden behind his palm. "Thanks. I feel like a clown though."

"Why?" I asked.

"I'm not JJ ya know? I'm not fashionable or whatever, and I hate this stuff," he grumbled as he shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets, confirming my earlier suspicions.

"I mean, I'm not all that fashionable either," I shrugged. "But that's okay. Having style is a different kind of skill, and not everybody has it. I'd hate being paraded around in something I wasn't comfortable in too, but...you kind of have to. It's a responsibility you have to your team, and it's only going to get more involved when you get to the NFL. By then you'll be contractually obligated to."

"I know, I know," he sighed.

I nudged him again. "If it makes you feel better, I can stand in the corner during your interviews and make stupid faces at you while I'm filming."

"No way," Reid chucked and shook his head. "That would make things so much worse."

I wasn't sure when our relationship had transitioned into a place where we were so candid with each other about things, but maybe the naturalness of it spoke to that. I told myself I didn't have to know, it was okay that it just happened, and that was for the better for both of us. We shared a faint laugh as we made it to the media room at the back of the hotel.

The ACC Kickoff event had commandeered the entire hotel, with its main base of operations in the grand "ballroom" at the back of the lobby, where the media workroom was with all the ACC Network analysts at their big fancy media desk, as well as several radio stations with mini studio setups, and tables and chairs for people to sit and chill in between interviews and pressers. Standard hotel breakfast was being served at the back of the room, and my intrusive thoughts were to drop everything and make a beeline to the coffee. 

"Well, let's get this party started, shall we?" Coach Riley said in his Texan drawl, clapping his hands together.  

Coach Riley was another person that had a natural light that radiated from him. He had one of those beaming, charismatic smiles that you expected CEOs or guys that did TED Talks to have. It was almost impossible not to listen when he spoke, and that was part of the reason he was touted as a coaching phenom - the kind players wanted to play for.

We hit a few local radio stations first, where Coach Riley turned on that charisma while answering a firestorm of questions about the readiness of the team for the upcoming season, and more importantly, Reid.

"Well, I'll let his performance on the field speak for that," he said as he spoke to WFAN South Carolina. "You know, he's a winner. He's been a winner his whole life. And with someone who has won so frequently and so consistently, there are certain characteristics that drive that, and you ever don't lose those characteristics. It stays with you, and it's stayed with him throughout all of this."

As I continued to film I stole a glance at Reid, who sat slouched in a chair he barely fit in beside Coach Riley, with his legs splayed out and his hands folded on his stomach, his expression giving nothing away. Being directly next to each other only highlighted the contrast between them even more - if Coach Riley was the sun, Reid was the moon, and even though they were opposites, they needed each other.

"Reid?" The radio DJ turned to address him. "I know you were with the team last year during your recovery, but this is your first season with Coach Riley as your head coach. I know you had a good relationship with him when he was Clemson's offensive coordinator, as well as Clemson's new offensive coordinator in Coach Nix. How has your relationship with them changed in their new roles now that you're at the helm, running their offense? Any sneak peeks you can give us?"

"My relationship with them hasn't changed, ya know I trust them and they trust me. I'm just going to try and be whatever they need me to be," he responded, his tone as neutral as his facial expression.

"And are you concerned about any limitations that you might have?" the DJ asked.

I found myself gripping the handle on the camera rig tighter as we all anticipated Reid's response, waiting to see if he would in fact spit out candy. He knitted his brows and ran his tongue along his bottom lip as if he was rolling around a response in his mouth, and suddenly his hesitation was too obvious.

Thankfully Coach Riley swooped in to protect his quarterback. "We already know what he's capable of on the field and what he's able to do. While we have no concerns about him physically, we're not going to force him into bad situations."

I wasn't sure if I was the only one who caught Reid's subtle sigh of relief, and as I finally released my grip on the camera rig, I realized my knuckles were white as paper.

As the day went on, Reid faced the gauntlet of media with the same measured, calculated responses to most questions. It was obvious enough to everyone how smart of a football player he was, but he wasn't willing to give any more than that. He was spitting out candy, but they were mostly Warheads.

Up until the formal press conference, he had Coach Riley in his corner, stepping in when he needed to catch his breath. Now, he stood alone at the podium at the front of the room, facing a litany of media personnel and reporters at rows of tables, their laptops open and their microphones turned upwards towards him. Coach Riley had addressed the media first and was understandably a tough act to follow.

Mara and I had posted up along the wall close to where the rest of the Clemson boys sat awaiting their turn at the podium, and other than the clicking and snapping of camera lenses, it was as if the sound had been sucked out of the room. 

"Well, we won't beat around the bush with you Reid, we know you the niceties aren't really your style," a reporter at the front from the ACC Network began, and it garnered a few faint chuckles from the crowd. "At the beginning of your sophomore season when you were named the starter, you had said that if the team did not win a championship, you'd considered the season a failure. Despite your injury at the end of that season, the Tigers still went on to the playoffs but lost in the first round to Alabama. Do you still have that same mentality going into this season?"

"Yes," Reid answered without hesitation. "You know, we don't come here to this school and this program just to participate. This program has a legacy of winning championships and therefore expectations to continue to win championships. Part of being on this football team is buying into that from the jump."

Mara pinched my elbow to get my attention and leaned over to whisper to me, "He's like a completely different person than that grouchy dingus who wouldn't give me his fit check this morning."

"It's because football makes him confident," I replied with a soft, museful smile. "He's the best, and he knows he's the best."

"And what about you personally?" the reporter continued. "What are the expectations you have for yourself coming back to football after not playing in a real game for over a year?" 

We were close enough that I could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, his fingers tapping against the side of the podium. He slowly scanned the room and when he stopped on me, all I could think to do was offer him a faint smile and a nod while my heart threatened to rip itself from my chest again.  

He took a breath as he straightened himself up before finally giving his answer. "Nothing's changed. I'm still a competitor, I'm still a leader on this team, and I'll do whatever I have to to get this team a championship."

"But do you think you'll be held back by any physical limitations?" another reporter chimed in.

Now that he knew where I was, he slid another pensive glance at me. Go on, I mouthed to him.

A ghost of a smirk graced Reid's lips, and there was a coy, almost wicked feel to it. "Last time I checked, I'm still bigger than most linebackers and faster than most wide receivers. So if you're asking me if I'm afraid of getting hit or something, I'm not."

I knew he was serious, but it got a few more chuckles from the media.

Mara pinched me again. "Is it just me, or is that kind of hot?"

I stiffened up, once again losing control of my heart as it frantically thumped against my chest. The lights fixed on the podium gave Reid's messy head of hair a glowing silhouette, and for the first time all day, he gave a confident, toothy grin to the crowd. His gaze found mine one more time, and it hit me all at once like a bolt of lightning, shocking me and my entire system.

Oh. Oh no.

I made a sorry attempt to steady myself, heaving out a sigh and folding my arms over my chest. "No. It's...it's just you."

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