(Cerritos, CA) The mystery behind Kyle King’s disappearance may overshadow the influencer’s controversial livestreams, but you wouldn’t know it in Marshall Guzman’s living room. Stacked along the walls are dozens of boxes with what may be the last officially licensed King merchandise on the planet.
”The way the news was covering [King’s disappearance], I thought I’d be lucky to flip a t-shirt,” Guzman said above a carton of Kyle King toothpaste. “When I saw that most of the items in his shop were still available, I went all in.” Guzman purchased the entirety of the store in the hopes of beating other scalpers to the punch. As the news covered the missing celebrity, he figured someone would buy the stuff. “It seems I was the only one with that thought.”
Now, possessing enough t-shirts, hats, and cologne to fill a retail location, Guzman is ready for a return on his nonrefundable investment. “People pretend they’re worried about [King], but nobody’s buying my stuff. And I’ve met people where they are: bargain grocery stores, freeway entrances, Korean Barbeque restaurants. If you really loved him we wouldn’t be haggling over body pillows.”
Despite these roadblocks, Guzman is hopeful for the future. He recently sold a large number of themed dog collars to the Cerritos State Prison and implied that magnetizing one of his credit cards erased its charges.
Some fans have recommended that Guzman turn his unsold memorabilia into a museum about King. He cracks open a can of King Kombucha before answering. “I would never do that. And if I did I would charge $100 a head because I do not like the type of person who would visit that.”
KING AMERICA
Part 1
Story & Cover by Eduardo Vaca
10,000 people lined up at SoFi Stadium. Damian smiled as his car drove around the crowd. Pristine camping tents, bought the night before with what little was left in people's dream fund, littered the line. Spectators, with arms full of popcorn and fresh merch, avoided grease stains from the roaming hotdog carts. Today was an investment for some people, a lifetime of royalty for the price of a weekend under tarp. Most, however, just wanted a front seat to the show.
”Do you want the unami shaved ice or the vinegar pork brine?” Alicia asked.
Damian hated the limo. It was said to seat seven, but there was hardly any room for him and his assistant. She had already been with him for a year, but he still flinched every time her bony knees grazed him.
Many assistants are driven by a desire to climb the corporate ladder, or by the satisfaction of working for a greater cause. At 56, Alicia Newman was not interested in starting her career. She’d said as such when Damian interviewed her.
”I’m probably the best assistant in the world,” she said without blinking. “And I want enough money to live on the beach.”
He was warned of her intensity by her references. Shark Tank host Kevin O’Leary described her attention to detail as “obsessive, maybe vindictive.” will.i.am said Alicia’s skills were masterful, but her “steely” demeanor discomforted his bird. As her black eyes tracked his own, Damian thought of a better word: animal.
“Hey chubby, order’s up. Whatever, I’m getting you the ice. The broth will only make you hungrier.”
”Maybe I want the broth.”
”Fine get the broth,” she said. An unspoken thought lingered behind her tone.
Damian did not always like having the best assistant in the world. “Do I sense disappointment?”
“Personally, I wouldn’t risk the bloat. From the salt. It’s an instant three pounds of water weight. But if you don’t care how you look on TV, hey. It’s your life.”
“Uh-huh.”
Alicia sighed, waving away the comment with her claws. “I just don’t want you feeling bad when you read the comments. Not like the Vanity Fair party.”
This was true: there seemed to be a direct line between endless In-N-Out and mean comments online. ”I don’t even care, just get me the ice.”
“I already did.” This was Alicia’s sport. Her crow's feet glowed with the thrill of the kill.
Damian’s intercom beeped. “Mr. Mendoza,” his driver said. “They’re asking us to take an alternative entrance. Apparently, someone hopped the fence.”
Alicia rolled her eyes, to which Damian scowled. “Thanks for letting us know Nick. At least they still like us.”
Driver Nick chuckled. “Copy that.”
Over and out. “Didn’t that happen last time?” Damian asked Alicia.
She shook her head without looking up from her phone. “I wasn’t here for that.”
“Oh. I think it was a bomb threat.” Damian could hear the faint sound of candy being crushed on Alicia’s phone. He looked outside and watched the would-be stars assemble for the show. The number of contestants putting on costumes was concerning. “Kyle said it was a good omen. Only real celebrities get death threats.”
A girl stood on top of a folding chair. No older than 12, she placed a plastic crown on her father’s head as he crouched down. He was dressed in a tiger suit with a cape. “Bad omens…” Damian mumbled.
Alicia looked up. “You think?”
No more than usual, anyway. Damian had trouble imagining the next member of his kingDOM emerging from a pool of fans. These were common folk, helping Damian build publicity, not legacy. The media was quick to ridicule him for calling the events “Angel Auditions,” but the term aligned with the work. His plans didn’t require another paid-by-the-post influencer. He needed activists and vigilantes. He needed knights ready to serve at the feet of their king.
Damian knew that his ambition exceeded his reputation. Many knew him as the Kindness King, a Youtuber whose niche was helping average people with extravagant gifts. Skeptics saw him as a reality TV star for an audience of children, but they ignored the facts. True believers gave him over a billion views every month. His content was translated into 15 different languages. Potato chips with his logo could be found in supermarkets across America. Damian’s empire was only growing, and he enjoyed the view from his throne.
“Maybe I’m nervous,” he said.
Alicia’s smile looked more like a wince. Damian knew she didn’t share his vision, and most days he didn’t care. The road to revelation was laid with paid talent, but today he longed for an idealist in his corner.
He missed Kyle.
”DAAAAAAAAWWWWWMMMMMM!”
The limo slid into underground parking as the scream echoed off concrete pillars.
“Did someone bring a parrot? I knew we shouldn’t have allowed animal acts!” Alicia said as she squinted out the window. She was greeted by a human body reaching in every direction, thrusting itself upon her window. A woman latched herself to the door, banging her head with enough force to crack the glass.
“DomDomDom’s KING! DomDomDom’s KING!” The banshee giggled as she sang, and didn’t stop when the car suddenly stopped. “I’m stuck on you like ringworm Dom! Lemme dance for the show!”
Damian watched his fan rub her eyeballs against the window. Short streaks of blood were drawn from a cut on her forehead. Pain was second to her desperation. Or was it adoration? It was impossible for her to look inside the windows due to a custom tint, but this did not comfort Alicia.
”Scrape her off!” She cried. “Oh my God, she’s got glass in her cut.”
Red filled the window’s gentle cracks. The stranger didn’t notice. She continued singing Damian’s theme song until security removed her. “Dom’s KING! DomDomDom’s KING! KING DOM!”
Two squeegees were needed to get her down properly, but all the rabies left her body when they restrained her. She sat on the ground with her legs together, zip-tied at the wrists and ankles. Her bicep, christened with a Deathly Hallows tattoo, rested on her knees. It nuzzled her tired, satisfied smile.
Damian watched from inside the car. She reminded him of a cat who, after spending the whole afternoon chasing a bird, was finally able to clean the blood from its paws. He wondered if John Lennon thought the same thing during his last interaction with a fan.
”Do you think—?” Alicia began before Damian opened the door. “Please don’t go over there.”
”Stephen!” Damian called as he walked toward the girl. He waved for his security lead to meet him in the middle.
“Yes, Mr. Mendoza?”
“You mind if I have a word with the lady?”
Stephen paused for the punchline. There wasn’t one. “Uh, sir, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. We don’t know what she—“
”Yeah I know, but I feel like it would clear the air.”
“Sir, I understand it’s tempting to try and figure out why these people do what they do, but it’s just not rational.”
Damian smiled. “You don’t think any good can come of it?”
”No sir.”
“What if I do?” Then he smiled again, and Stephen let him through.
The woman didn’t look up when Damian stood by her. Her hair was brown and greasy, and he saw little spots of dandruff in her middle part. Damian knelt on one knee.
“What’s your name?”
She didn’t answer.
Damian looked past his shoulder. Both Alicia and Stephen were waiting for whatever this was to end. “You’re so familiar to me but I don’t think we’ve met before. Have we?”
Again, no answer. Her eyes were focused on Stephen, who was too uncomfortable to turn away.
“Alright,” Damian sighed. He leaned towards her, aiming his face as close as possible without touching her. “I love you too,” he whispered to her cheek.
Neither Stephen nor Alicia spoke as he got back in the car. His driver pressed the intercom. “We’ll drive the rest of the way?”
”Sure Nick.”
“I feel like we should fire someone for this,” Alicia said with her back to the glass.
”Come on, nobody’s getting fired. We knew today was going to be crazy, and if we’re lucky if this is the worst of it.”
”I’m not taking a bullet for you.”
“As if one could stop you.”
kingDOM COME 2024: Live Transcript
The first day of Damian “DOM” Mendoza’s “Angel Auditions” concluded on Saturday, April 20. The highly publicized event saw thousands of people fill SoFi stadium for a chance to join Mendoza’s influential kingDOM of Internet personalities. Future auditions take place in San Francisco, Chicago, Austen, and New York.
DOM: Welcome to the kingDOM ya’ll! Who’s ready for today?
Thank you everyone. I’ve got a few thank-you’s I want to make before we get started. First, let’s give a round of applause to Billy Eilish and the Jabbawockeez. Weren’t they amazing? I’ve never seen anyone dance to the National Anthem like that.
I’d also like to thank our venue, SoFi Stadium. They loosened their policy on non-service animals just for you, so let’s give them a round of applause. And if you have allergies, make sure to walk through the ReMist Nasal Relief tents, sponsored by Claratin. It’s a very concentrated spray, so only use it once.
We’re going to do a little story time right now. I’ve been doing the whole YouTube thing for almost fifteen years. And for the longest time, I was doing it with my best friend in the whole world, Kyle King.
CROWD: KING! KING!
DOM: Kyle knew how to make every idea better. Our first viral video was us feeding an unhoused person on a street corner. I said, “Let’s take him to a 5-star restaurant, give him a feast for a day.” Kyle thought it would be better to feed him for a week. We bought every jar of pickles we could find. Not just cucumbers either. Eggs, onions, garlic. We even bought the guy okra, and you know what? Kyle was right. In one week, we had 5 million views. A month later, it was 30. And that homeless guy? He’s the mascot for Kosher Kid Pickles.
Kyle’s videos made the world a better place. When we lost him last year, it was in the middle of our most ambitious project yet. He pitched it to me as something beyond reality. I didn’t mind the challenge. I was used to fighting the status quo. Our energy drink, SQUISH, had to fight tooth and nail for its spot on store shelves.
His idea was the final answer to the influencer question: a nation of our own. Creators are natural leaders, but they’re hindered by the platforms they post on. Innovation should not be constrained to algorithms. Our kingDOM, Kyle said, could be the safety net that protects future brilliance.
Naturally, I said he was crazy. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It wasn’t our willpower that brought us success. A lot of people work hard, and a lot of people fail. Our success was a gift from God, and we have a responsibility to share it. He chose us not to entertain the world, but to save it.
If you’re here today, you feel the same way. You feel the injustice in the world, all its cruelty. You see what a missed opportunity this country has become. I’m looking for Angels to join a new country, a kingDOM of heart and fire, a nation of influencers. Give us your talent, and we’ll share it with the world. Who’s ready to join the King?
CROWD: DOM!
DOM: King!
CROWD: DOM DOM!
DOM: King!
CROWD: DOM DOM!
DOM: King!
CROWD: DOM DOM!
“So who’s the girl?” Damian was drenched in sweat, having just returned from surfing the crowd. Most of the wet wasn't his. Production assistants wiped him down with Purell as he undressed. Alicia directed them toward the slimiest areas.
“Car girl?” Alicia asked.
“Yes.” Hand sanitizer dripped into Damian’s eyes, stinging more with every blink. “Get my tear ducts!”
An assistant wiped around his eye sockets.
“She’s nobody. Make sure to get behind his ears.”
Damian shuddered. “Be gentle, it’s sensitive. I want to know who she is, Alicia.”
”She’s really nobody. They can’t identify her. All they know for certain is that she walked inside the parking garage five minutes before we did.”
“Okay. Where is she now?”
”Stadium security. Local police are on their way.”
Damian shook his head. “No. Keep her here.” He raised his arms as the PA’s continued scrubbing. “If she’s a fan I don’t want the cops talking to her. If she’s an enemy, I’d rather fix it in-house.”
Alicia asked the assistants to stop and wait by craft services for a moment. Damian, left in his socks and underwear, watched them leave. ”I’m still moist.”
“I think she’s sick, DOM.”
Damian smiled, first softly then baring teeth. “And we will heal the sick in our kingDOM. Also, make sure people are outside the door. I don’t want her crawling out of there.” ⬤
PREVIEW…
KING AMERICA #2 arrives May 23, 2024!
