Page 10 of Home of the Brave

“We will. I’m not asking anyone to bray like a donkey.” I sighed and closed my eyes. It was the morning of day one. Not all the athletes had even arrived yet, and I was reaching my limit.

There were so many interesting stories to tell. How some of the female athletes were only eighteen and playing on the world’s largest stages. Going from high school to the Olympics, then a first-of-its-kind tournament in your first year, is unfathomable, and I wanted to get an interview with them before the first games to compare to how they felt after.

But no. The network wanted to humiliate the athletes instead, so they could go viral.

“There are dances––”

“No.” I shot him a look that had him sliding away.

“Got it.”

I felt bad; it wasn’t his fault. We were both just trying to do our jobs. I just happened to be very protective of these women. “If something funny or interesting happens organically, we can clip it. I’m not forcing them to do stupid things for views.”

“Clip farming,” he said, as if those two words formed a coherent sentence.

“What?”

“That’s what it's called when you set things up in hope of getting funny or viral clips.”

I cringed. “Yeah, we’re not doing that.”

“We have to upload at least one video a day.” He reminded me of one of the most annoying terms of our being here.

“We will, we’re just not doing farming.” I pointed to his pocket. “Nothing that embarrasses the athletes.”

“Can we embarrass you?” he teased.

I narrowed my eyes, then debated. I’d rather sacrifice my pride, not like I had much, than the women. “Sure. If that’s what it takes.”

He nodded. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Really?”

“What?” His brows pulled together.

“No more pushback? You’re not going to try to force me?”

He scoffed. “I can’t force you, and I won’t even try. The animal thing was a suggestion from my boss. It wasn’t my idea, but I can say I tried, but we’re going in a different direction.”

“Which is?”

“That’s what we need to figure out.” He pushed his glasses up. “We’re on the same side. I don’t want to offend anyone either.”

I hadn’t expected him to agree with me so easily. I hadn’t expected him to go along with my plan this morning either. I’d told him I wanted to go to the women’s breakfast to introduce ourselves rather than waiting for the men's teams to arrive, and he’d simply said yes.

No push back. No countering with his own plan.

I eyed him, my suspicions growing.

The harsh reality of our industry was that we were all fighting for space, for recognition, for just a little bit more.

If he wanted better assignments, he needed to provide excellent videos and images. He could hide behind me as an excuse, but ultimately, he had his own boss to impress and answer to.

“Why are you just agreeing with me?”

He flinched back. “Why would I argue?”

Because the vast majority of the men I worked with did. “Because I’m not taking the easy route.”