Clickbait (Off the Record Book 1)

by Garett Groves

  “Whatever happened to real journalism? What happened to research and facts? What happened to the Walter Cronkite’s of the world? They’re gone. I don’t know where they went, but they’re not here.”

  “And do you see yourself as a worthy heir to Cronkite?” I called from the back of the room.

  “I’m sorry, please save all questions for the end, I’ll be happy to answer them then,” Taylor said without looking in my direction.

  “Some might say this is the end for you, Mr. Taylor,” I said as I stood and stepped forward to allow my face to be illuminated by the fluorescent lights. Taylor’s expression turned from one of horror to amusement in the blink of an eye and I reveled in the discomfort I must’ve been causing him.

  “Ah, Kile. You know, I was wondering why you never applied for a press badge. I guess now I know, huh?”

  “It was a last-minute decision,” I said and Taylor shook his head, a sad smirk appearing on his face.

  “Why are you here, Kile? Come to put a fork in me?”

  “Me? No, I’d never celebrate the ousting of a fellow journalist,” I said and Taylor’s eyes narrowed. I couldn’t see it, but I could only assume that every hair on the back of his neck must’ve been standing up at my assertion we were anything alike. “I’m here to defend you.”

  “That’s kind of you and all, but that’s not what this is about. I’m here to apologize for what I said and move on,” he said and I stepped up onto the dais, making Taylor’s eyes go so wide they looked like they might burst. Two giant men in security t-shirts rounded the dais and came my way.

  “Is this really necessary, gentlemen?” I asked as they approached. I wasn’t afraid of what they might do, but I didn’t really want to lose my opportunity. “I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

  “You need to leave. Now,” the bigger of the two said, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I have every right to be here as a member of the press.”

  “Except you don’t have a badge. So, I repeat: you need to leave. Now.”

  “Leave him alone,” Taylor called from behind me. I knew it. He’s too damn noble to throw me out, I thought. “It’ll only cause more trouble if you kick him out,” he continued. He was right. If he threw me out now and everyone here reported it—and they most certainly would, this was making for far too entertaining television—it would make Taylor look like more of an ass than he already did for the way he’d treated me on his show.

  “What do you want, Avery?” Taylor hissed as I turned to face him. “Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

  “You’re so cynical, Jeff. I can call you that, right?”

  “Whatever you’re about to do, you need to knock it off. Right now,” he said, the sweat on his brow shining in the light.

  “Trust me,” I said before turning back around to the cameras.

  “Hello, everyone. For those of you who don’t know, I’m Kile Avery, founder and editor-in-chief of The Flame. Mr. Taylor here had me on his show last night and things got more than a little heated between us. I know that it put Mr. Taylor in a very uncomfortable position, but I wanted to say that while I appreciate his apology, I don’t think it’s necessary. Mr. Taylor is a respectable man and a fearless journalist, and it’s those kinds of people our country needs now more than ever,” I said. I paused to allow everyone to catch up and noticed that the room had grown so quiet that I could hear the buzzing from the lights overhead.

  “So, I’d like to ask you all to take it easy on him. He got a little frazzled in the heat of the moment but it happens to the best of us. We’ve all said and done things we regret, haven’t we?” I asked and as if on cue the camera people nodded in agreement. “Of course we have. Mr. Taylor and I may have higher profiles than most, but we’re no less imperfect than any of you,” I said before turning back to Taylor and extending a hand to draw attention to him.

  “I thought it was only appropriate that I make an appearance at this event because I wanted Mr. Taylor and the rest of the country to see that even those who don’t agree can still get along. We need unity right now, not division, especially among colleagues. I forgive him for what happened. I hope you all can do the same,” I said. “No hard feelings, right?” I asked Taylor and he scowled at me, his face burning brighter than the sun.

  “No hard feelings,” Taylor agreed, putting on a pained smile as he took the hand I’d offered him and shook it. Cameras clicked and flashes popped and though Taylor tried his best to pull his hand away from me, I gripped it tight. I wanted this moment to last, I wanted everyone to get a shot of the titan of cable news making nice with his arch-enemy.

  I could see the headlines in the making. Taylor flung my hand away and stood up to come around the table and stand with me, smiling and waving. I wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned over until my mouth was centimeters from his ear.

  “You owe me,” I whispered.

  3

  Jeff

  What the hell was that? I thought, standing stunned with my knees knocking as Avery headed for the door. I couldn’t find my voice, much less words, to call out to him to make him stop. Before he stepped out of the door, Avery turned back and blew me a kiss. He actually blew me a kiss.

  You owe me. The words rang in my head, over and over. Owed him for what? Because whatever it was he’d just done, it hadn’t been to benefit me. Was he trying to position himself as my rational replacement? Or was he trying to build on the momentum he’d no doubt built up after our sparring? I didn’t have much faith in the American public, but I had to hope they knew better than to believe what Avery said because this sort of thing was what made him infamous. He was a shock jock, just like Eric said he was before I’d gone on air with Avery. And he’d made a fool of me yet again.

  The room cleared out one by one and it wasn’t until I was alone in the giant studio that I felt like I could move again. Looking around to make sure no one else was there, I collapsed back into the chair I’d been sitting in for the majority of the press conference. My head spun in all different directions. I gripped the glass of water and chugged what was left of it. I hadn’t realized just how thirsty I’d been. I felt like I’d woken up after being asleep for weeks. Where was I? What happened while I was out? Avery had stood there in front of me, stealing the limelight, and I’d totally blanked. I couldn’t remember anything he’d said.

  As crazy as it was, I had to admire Avery’s gusto. No wonder he was such a media darling. For one, he looked the part. Of all the things I hated about Avery—and the list seemed to be growing by the second—I think I hated that most about him. He was beautiful from head to toe, his body was muscular without looking like he tried too hard to maintain it, and he had a smile that could make anyone’s knees shake. Couple that with the way he handled himself on camera, and it was no surprise he’d become a sensation, for better or worse.

  In some ways he reminded me of a younger and cockier version of myself, which I didn’t know was possible. Maybe that’s why I hated him so much. He was the embodiment of all of my worst qualities taken to their logical extreme: arrogant, ambitious, and cunning. In other words, he was everything I wanted to be when there wasn’t a conscience to rein in the darker parts.

  Honestly, I was stunned he had the balls to sneak into an event like this but I wasn’t surprised in the least that he’d made a scene, since that seemed to be what he was best at doing. Aside from the videos he posted of himself ranting to the camera about some perceived injustice, there were just as many of him crashing events like mine to make a point, though I’d never been able to figure out what exactly the point was.

  I’d seen something else telling in some of his videos posted on The Flame, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It sometimes came out in the sort of confessional tone he took, a certain vulnerability I could never quite grasp before it was gone again. In any case, something about Avery didn’t add up. Maybe it was just the journalist in me, but I sensed a story underneath all of his b
ravado and showmanship.

  I shook my head to clear it and get it centered on anything other than Avery. He was all I’d thought about for the last 24 hours and I really didn’t want to think about him anymore because I was sure I’d be subjected to his smug face and douchey voice all over the news for at least the next week. The conference he’d crashed was supposed to help me put the whole matter to bed and get my career back on track but it’d blown up spectacularly and I started to wonder if I’d ever be able to unlink my name from Avery’s in the press.

  “Fuck,” I cursed. I swept the pages of notes I’d read from off of the table into my briefcase and reached for my phone that was buried at the bottom. To my surprise, it was vibrating, so I pulled it out to find an unknown number calling. I’d slid my finger halfway across to decline the call when I hesitated… What if it was good news? Not likely, but what if?

  “This is Jeff Taylor,” I answered in my most professional tone, just in case, while also praying it wasn’t some asshole on the other end looking for comment on the disaster of a conference.

  “Jeff, this is Lee Noble with NewSpin. How are you?” a gravelly voice asked and my heart dropped into my stomach. NewSpin? This wouldn’t end well.

  “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been better. Look, if you’re looking for comment on what you just saw, I’m not really ready to say anything.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to say anything. That was fantastic television right there,” Lee said.

  “That’s one way to look at it.”

  “Please tell me that was orchestrated, because it was beautifully done.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Oh man, the look on your face when Avery stepped forward. That’s going to be making the rounds.”

  “Great. It’ll go well with all of the memes of my face Photoshopped onto the body of Peter Finch screaming, ‘I’m mad as hell and I’m not gonna take it anymore,’” I said and Lee laughed.

  “You’ve gotta admit, that’s pretty damn funny.”

  “Yeah, they’re hilarious. Look, Lee, is there a reason you called or did you just want to kick me while I’m down?”

  “Actually, I’d like you to stop by our office today,” Lee said and I nearly dropped the phone.

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Come on, Jeff, don’t play stupid. I’d like to talk with you about career opportunities. I think we could make some real magic together, especially after what happened today. I’d love the opportunity to prove you wrong about NewSpin.”

  “I don’t know. Do you think that would play well with the public?”

  “What other choice do you have?” Lee asked and I grimaced.

  “Ouch.”

  “So it’s true, then. You really don’t have any other offers?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Right. You omitted some small part of the truth. That’s a good journalist,” Lee said and though I couldn’t see his face, I felt the smile on it over the line. I wasn’t sure if I liked him or hated him yet. “I’ll be here until 5. I’d really like to talk with you. Give us a chance. We might surprise you, in more ways than one,” he said. Right, like this call wasn’t already enough of a surprise, I thought.

  “Alright,” I said. What did I have to lose? It wouldn’t hurt to at least go in and talk to Lee and it wasn’t like I had any better offers.

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it. You know where we’re at?”

  “You’re over by Dupont, right?” I asked.

  “Thereabouts, yeah. You need directions?”

  “I think I can manage. I’ll head over now,” I said.

  “Excellent. See you soon,” Lee said and clicked off the line. I stood from the table feeling much more encouraged than I had any right to while also staring down at my phone in disbelief. I couldn’t help but laugh because there wasn’t any way this day could get any weirder.

  When I stepped into the NewSpin offices, it took me a few minutes to adjust. It was so different from the lobby at GNN. People darted this way and that and the noise from all of the people crammed into the sardine can of an office talking was totally overwhelming. For Christ’s sake, there weren’t even any walls in the place save for the four that kept the building standing and another two that likely served as an office toward the back on the left. That must be Lee’s, I thought as I eyed it.

  Otherwise, the office was wide open such that I could see all the way from the lobby where I stood through to the back side of the room where dozens more people sat at desks—without privacy dividers—typing away or talking on the phone. If the noise from all of the employees wasn’t bad enough, there were also TV screens hanging from the ceiling pretty much every six feet, strategically placed so that each and every employee could see at least two of them from any position in the office. Worse yet, each of them were tuned to a different news channel—but they were all still talking about the same thing: my disaster of a press conference. No such thing as bad press, right? I thought as I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, well,” a voice said from the reception desk, snapping me out of my head. “Look what the cat dragged in.” A young guy wearing a man bun and an obnoxious floral-print polo shirt stared at me, his hands resting on the desk. “How the mighty have fallen. Come to beg for a job, I assume?”

  “You know, you should really show your elders some more respect,” I said and the guy laughed. “What’s your name, smart ass?”

  “Oh, he’s not just feisty on TV. I like that. Name’s Chase,” he said. “You got an appointment?”

  “Not exactly, but Lee Noble is expecting me,” I said and Chase’s eyes went wide.

  “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

  “No, very much not fucking with you. He called me about an hour ago and asked me to stop by, so here I am.”

  “Unbelievable,” Chase laughed as he picked up the phone on the desk and dialed. “Hey, boss. Jeff Taylor’s here to see you—please tell me this is a joke,” he said into the phone and an incredulous smile spread across his face a moment later. “Alright, I’ll bring him back,” he said, exasperated, and clattered the phone back onto the hook.

  “I dunno who you screwed to make this happen, but I gotta say, I’m impressed,” Chase said.

  “Yeah, good for you. Take me to Lee,” I said, sick of his ridicule. I chewed through people like him like they were candy on my show, so I wasn’t going to sit and let this punk take cheap jabs at me.

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Chase said and saluted me before stepping around the desk. “Come with me—assuming your hips can handle it.”

  “Oh, that’s an original one,” I said as I followed Chase into the chaos behind his desk, dodging people in the process. I had to admit, something about the energy of the place excited me, though I thought twice about that feeling when I realized the stuff they were reporting on was probably inane enough to make my head explode. Celebrity gossip or the newest, funniest meme—aka me.

  At the very back of the room on the left there was a large office with floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a guy my age sitting at a desk with the phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. Chase opened the door and the guy waved us both in as he said, “Yeah, sounds great. Look, let me call you back, someone I’ve been dying to talk to just walked into my office. OK, yeah, talk soon.” He slammed the phone down and practically jumped out of his chair to run around and offer me a hand to shake.

  “Jeff Taylor!” he said and Chase snorted as we shook hands. “Get out of here,” he snapped at Chase and Chase held his hands up in mock defense before leaving the office. “And close the door behind you!” he snapped. Chase halted on one heel before turning around to close the door. “Jesus, it’s one of only two doors in the office, you’d think it would be hard to miss. Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Lee Noble,” he said, offering a hand for me to shake, which I took tentatively. I still didn’t understand why I was here.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said.

  “The pleasure’s
all mine. I’ve gotta say, I’m a little starstruck.”

  “You don’t have to kiss my ass, Lee. I’m not exactly worthy of that anymore,” I said and Lee chuckled. He was a bit of a clash with the rest of the environment around him, what with his blazer and penny loafers, when the rest of the staff would be more at home in a high school cafeteria. Lee looked like he’d gotten stuck in the long-lost golden age of newspapers while the rest of the world sped ahead without him.

  “Look, Lee, I’m more than a little surprised you called.”

  “You should be. It’s a huge risk I’m taking here,” Lee said, his face turning serious, the smile disappearing. His blue eyes twinkled behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “But that’s what this industry is all about, right? Calculated risks?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Great, OK then. You’re a man of conviction, I don’t think anyone could argue otherwise, especially not after the last 24 hours. I admire that about you, I really do. You don’t back down, but you’ve got enough brains to know when you’ve gone too far. Your press conference proved that. The world needs more journalists like that. NewSpin needs more journalists like that.”

  “They do?” I asked.

  “Of course. You think I really want to hire fresh-faced smart asses like Chase? I mean, he’s good at what he does, don’t get me wrong, but what he does isn’t exactly deep and meaningful.”

  “Wait, he’s a reporter? I thought he was the receptionist.”

  “We all wear multiple hats around here, especially the new hires. I know it’s hard to believe based on the commotion in the newsroom, but we’re still a pretty small staff. There’s only about fifty of us.”

  “He’s new? Well, that explains a lot.”

  “He’s been here maybe four months. He’s got a great sense of humor in his writing, but we don’t need any more of that. Honestly, I don’t think he’s going to last. We’ve got a dozen or more people that do what he does. What we need now is people who aren’t afraid to tell the truth, no matter how difficult it might be.”