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I sat across from Jenny, the cat video queen, who animatedly described her process of creating thought bubbles for her feline star, Mr. Whiskers. The coffee shop hummed with the chatter of patrons and the grinding of espresso machines, but I remained focused on my interviewee.
“Timing is everything,” Jenny insisted, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You have to wait for that perfect moment when the cat’s expression just matches the message you want to convey.”
“Thank you so much for your insights, Jenny.” I closed my notebook, signaling an end to the rather serious and in-depth interview I hadn’t been expecting. I had more than enough material to work with. “I think our readers will really enjoy learning about your creative process.”
Jenny beamed, gathering her belongings. “It was great talking to you, Remi. Can’t wait to read the article!” With that, she left, her stylish bag swinging at her side.
While I was gathering my things into my leather satchel, my phone buzzed in my pocket again. I fished it out, only to find several missed calls and texts from Caroline, my boss.
A flicker of unease rolled through me as I tapped the call-back button, trying to prepare myself for whatever crisis had emerged.
“Remi! Where the hell have you been?” Caroline barked before I could get a word in. “The lawyers are already threatening to sue us, and the board is demanding your head on a platter!”
“Sorry, I was interviewing Jenny, the cat lady—“ I started, but she cut me off.
“Jack Hoffman is furious with me.” She spat out the words like venom. “How could you do this to me after the chance I took on you? I’ll be lucky if I have a job at the end of the day.”
“Caroline, slow down.” I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What did I do?”
“Your article on Ghost Parker has caused a giant clusterfuck of massive proportions. How could you publish it without consulting me? Lawyers from their record company are threatening to sue Hollywood Exposé!”
As Caroline’s words washed over me, a cold dread settled in my chest. I hadn’t shown that article to anyone yet, let alone published it. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation while she continued berating me.
“Caroline, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t submitted anything on Ghost Parker,” I insisted, my voice wavering.
“Are you serious?” She scoffed, her disbelief palpable. “It’s already online! You were clearly trying to upstage Dawn and get some pre-buzz for your story package, but you should have come to me. You’ve put the entire company in jeopardy. Hoffman is furious that you tried to scoop Dawn like this.”
Fear clawed its way up my throat, choking me as I struggled to comprehend the situation. My hands shook as I gripped the phone tighter, sensing the severity of the predicament I found myself in. “I swear, Caroline. I didn’t publish anything about Ghost Parker.”
Silence. Then a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Remi, but it’s not going to work.” She seethed, her anger palpable through the phone line. “You have a history of going rogue and Hoffman knows this. You’re a liability to us now. He wants your resignation on his desk by the end of the day. We’ll be releasing a statement that Hollywood Exposé disavows the article and the statement will also say you no longer represent us. It will either say you resigned or you were fired. It’s your choice.”
The line went dead. I stared at my phone in numb shock, her last words echoing in my mind. They were going to fire me over an article I didn’t even write. The coffee shop seemed to tilt and spin around me, Caroline’s words fading into a dull roar. None of this made any sense.
My trembling fingers pulled up the browser on my phone, searching frantically for the article. As it appeared on the screen, I felt my world shatter around me. It was all there in black and white. “What is Haunting Ghost Parker?” the headline screamed at me, my name prominently displayed beneath it. A cold tendril of dread unfurled inside me. I hadn’t written this. I hadn’t submitted this.
My heart pounded in my chest as I began to read the words written as if by me, each sentence a stab of betrayal. While I read, my mind frantically tried to work out where this article came from. Of course, my first thought was Dawn, but how could she have gotten all this information?
A bitter taste filled my mouth as I read each line, a mixture of anger and despair threatening to consume me. Somehow, Dawn had twisted my research into a weapon that not only got me fired and would ultimately destroy my career, but she’d betrayed everyone I had grown close to — Ghost, each guy in the band, and even Greyson.
The suicide of Ghost’s stepbrother, the death of Knox’s fiancee, Ryder’s cousin, and the history of Sid’s foster care were all things I’d researched extensively. I’d researched Kody’s mother but hadn’t come up with anything. As far as I knew, the information in the article about her was pure fabrication, as were the rest of the prurient insinuations about the band.
The smears about Greyson gutted me even more than the others did. I had no idea why he’d been included in the hit piece, except maybe because I was dating him, but linking him to Ryder? It made no sense. There were a few pictures of Greyson and Ryder together embedded in the article, but there was no hint of scandal in any of those pictures.
The other photos that had been used in the article were all pictures that had been lifted from fan sites of Ghost Parker. I recognized them from my research on the band. They weren’t particularly good photos; they were curated photos with the sole purpose of painting the band members as reckless, out-of-control, drunken, and drugged-up rock stars.
The article concluded by questioning the band’s talent in a cruel fashion that I knew would crush some of the guys in the band. It was as if I’d betrayed their trust, stabbed them in the back repeatedly, and then kicked them in the head when they were already down. It was extra vicious.
I had no doubt that Dawn was behind the piece. My mind raced, trying to piece together how she could have obtained everything she needed to create the scandalous story. Somehow, she’d gotten access to my research notes and twisted the facts in cruel ways or outright fabricated malicious tabloid fodder. Nausea churned in my gut, knowing that the publication of this article was a turning point in my life — just not in the way I had originally hoped.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized just how much damage had been done. The article was already exploding all over the internet with most of the comments being about Greyson and his sexuality. Oh my God! There was no way Greyson would believe I’d done this to him. Was there?
My heart raced as panic surged through me, my breaths coming in short gasps. I glanced around the coffee shop, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Damn you, Dawn. A seething rage boiled just beneath the surface of my anguish. She was the only one who could have done this — orchestrated my downfall with calculating precision.
As I left the coffee shop, my thoughts scrambled, trying to formulate plans for damage control — desperate attempts to salvage my career and relationships from the ashes of betrayal. But deep down, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
I had no idea how I’d prove that Dawn was behind this, but I couldn’t even think about that right now. First, I had to contact Greyson and Ghost and make sure they both realized that I hadn’t done this to them.
