/ Sunday, November 12th, 2006 /
Despite the sun coming over his closed eyes through the slot in the window shade, Aiden remains in bed, sleeping through the morning until the moment a knocking originates from the apartment door. Eyelids forcing themselves open, Aiden looks toward the still-closed bedroom door and waits for another sound, listening for a set of footsteps trailing through the flat, taking themselves to the front door. Following the answer, there is a silence, no words spoken and no audible moves made until his bedroom is entered, jolting him out of his sleep. “Dude” Shane says, Aiden pulling his head back at the sight of the panicked man, only able to muster curiosity in the form of a “what?” Pulled out of his sleep, Aiden groggily steps down the hall and into the kitchen, noticing Shane stood over the countertop with a look of fear in his eyes. “What’s going on?” Aiden asks again, not having received an answer the first time around, a look of worry the only response given by Shane, his eyes latching onto his roommate as if to ask how to solve a problem Aiden is still yet to be made aware of. Shaking his head in frustration, Aiden walks around the kitchen’s island to notice dozens of photographs, all spread out on their marble-finished counter. Suddenly, the shocked look on Shane’s face is duplicated in Aiden’s, the tiredness suddenly having faded in favour of an astonished glance. Quickly realizing this problem to not be one he alone can solve, Aiden marches for the phone and dials the number, pressing the headset to his ear. “Hey, Sam? This is Aiden” the man greets, Shane silently watching as his roommate attempts to figure out their next steps, “we’ve got an issue with Kelsi and Shane.” “Well we all knew this was gonna happen” Grant says, Aiden’s apartment having become crowded with guests all in their Sunday clothing, pajamas and casual attires in every direction. “Still, I don’t see the point of the pictures” Taylor explains, “if she wants to exploit you, why would she hold these pictures over your head?” “So she can show his girlfriend at a later date” Vickers replies, the suggestion immediately brushed off by Taylor, both as too obvious and too faulty. “All we really need to do is tell Olivia the actual story behind the photos, and they immediately mean nothing” Taylor explains, her suggestion giving Grant a more plausible solution. “Perhaps she’s trying to show us that she could if she wanted to” Grant explains, “the only way for her to hold power is to keep us thinking she does.” “Even then, all of this was for nothing” Aiden remarks, “she just wasted all of this to… What? Prove a point? She knows we still wont stop coming after her.” Shrugging, Grant takes a seat on the sofa, staring toward the blank wall in his opposite direction whilst the small community begins running over ways to solve the problem at hand. “Call Olivia over so we can get ahead of this” Taylor begins, “but first, let’s send someone down to look after her.” “That’ll blow our cover!” Shane explains, Grant quickly reminds the man that interacting with her blew their cover a few short days ago. “At this point, the only thing that’s important is to take away any leverage she has” Taylor furthers, “the moment she runs out of things to use against us is when she loses whatever power she has.” “She’s got all the power she needs already” Aiden replies, his eyes trailing away from Taylor, his pupils now fixated on Grant, the rest of the group following along. “She’s already dug well into my head- he’s right” Grant responds without needing to turn his face, already having assumed all eyes to have been placed upon him, “I still know what I did and she knows that’s good enough- this is just a warning to anyone that’s looking to challenge her.” “Even then, the only power she has is power over you” Vickers explains, “so if that’s all she has to bank on- we’ll take it away.” Faces turning toward Vickers, the group awaits an explanation as the man approaches Grant, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of his secondary anchor. “We’re going to take you off TV” Vickers states, Taylor immediately voicing her opinion against such an action. “It’s the only move we have at this point” Vickers replies, “if she wants him to slowly damage his trust with the public, she’ll be hopeless in her attempts without the platform to do it.” “Even then, you’re sacrificing his relevance now for his integrity later” Taylor explains, Aiden quick to add on the factor of ratings. “He’s the hottest anchor on television right now and he’s pulling in nearly eight million people each night” Aiden explains, “people may think he leans left a bit, but he’s still quickly overcoming every other draw in the country!” “Then we suffer the dip in the ratings” Vickers explains, his eyes peering toward Carly, the woman standing silently in the corner of the room. “Starting tomorrow night, Carly is taking over for Grant on ‘Tonight at Nine’ in lieu of a sudden illness” Vickers explains, “this illness will continue until the moment we nip this Kelsi problem in the bud.” “I still fail to see how this isn’t going to hurt us” Aiden replies, Vickers implying the opposite of what he’d like to hear. “It is going to hurt us- but it’s going to help us put Kelsi away in the long run” Vickers explains, “and right now, I’d rather take a loss and bring back my anchor-two than have him slowly wither on national television every night.” “Do you really think Kelsi is just gonna sit back and take that?” Carly questions, appreciating the new role she’s been given, but hesitant to believe someone is fixated on revenge as Kelsi would just let it happen. “She’ll come back and do worse than this… Especially if all this is just meant as a warning shot” Carly argues, a point Taylor fails to see an argument to. “People like Kelsi specialize in one thing before any other- leverage” Taylor confirms, “she’s a reporter. If she has something worth publishing, she puts it out. If someone doesn’t like what she’s publishing about them, she uses it to get something worth publishing about someone else.” “This isn’t even mentioning what she might already have against Grant in preparation for something like this” Shane explains, Aiden tacking onto the man’s point with his own. “Not to mention, Kelsi could just ride this ‘illness’ tagline out for months!” Aiden continues, “even if she doesn’t force him back into the camera’s view, she’ll hold him off until people start questioning why he’s gone for so long, or keep him off for enough time that people forget about him.” “People move on quickly, there’s no reason to suggest the same won't be true for Grant” Carly tacks on, “if you’re not an attractive woman or a cause for controversy, people get over you- it happens.” Considering his options, Vickers scans the room until Grant breaks his silence, voicing his support for the side presented opposite Vickers. “They know how these trends work because it always goes down like this” Grant murmurs, “one way or another, Kelsi will make me suffer.” His eyes now looking back toward Vickers, Grant awaits a decision, knowing the stance by both sides to have been made, the final call coming down to Vickers himself. Weighing the choices, their benefits and consequences, and proceeding further down the rabbit hole, Vickers finds the confidence to voice his conclusion, a polarizing one to suggest the least. “We’re taking him off the air” Vickers replies, “if it comes down to it, we promote the hell out of him when he comes back, and we try to raise Carly’s stock in the meantime.” Tapping his palms against his knees, Vickers stands to his feet and walks for the door, not willing to hear anything else as the rest of the crew just stands there, some eyes on Vickers, others placed upon Grant, who seems to be content with the decision made. = Tonight at 9 is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = “You’ve got a nice place” Taylor exclaims, following Grant into the man’s outer-city home, “it’s much cozier than I remember it being.” Shrugging his shoulders, Grant recalls the sights of New York City by memory, explaining that he doesn’t need to look at them every night when he comes home the way he does each day when he’s in the office. “There’s a time and a place for the city, and when I’m home, I want to go without the towering skyscrapers every second” Grant explains, “some people like it, but I’m not one to care for it much.” With a nod, Taylor walks around the interior, her eyes appreciating every knick knack that lines the walls, finding them to all be very much similar to what she would have expected Grant to own. “Did you expect all of this?” Grant inquires, pulling two beers from the fridge, rummaging through his cabinets for a bottle opener. “Actually, I sort of did” Taylor replies, surprising Grant, “I’d have expected less decor, but I would have expected something cozy like this.” “Something cozy?” Grant wonders aloud, “like restrictive in a good way or warm in temperature?” With a smirk, Taylor turns away from the wall as Grant offers her one of the bottles, “both” she replies, graciously accepting the drink. “It’s different to what I see at the office” Grant admits, “it’s almost the exact opposite- which is kind of necessary in our line of work.” With a chuckle, Taylor takes another swig of her drink, eyes moving from one side of the room to the other, finding a joy to take away from the setup. “You should see my place- it’s nothing like any of this” Taylor replies, “and I guess that’s why I like it so much.” Puckering his lips, Grant nods to himself, catching the woman by surprise when he suggests he may take her up on the offer. “Y’know, I show you my place, you show me yours kind of thing?” Grant clarifies, “Maybe I’d find as much personality in your place as you seem to find in mine.” “Here’s to hoping” Taylor responds, holding the rim of her glass toward Grant, the man returning the gesture before taking another drink. “I do have a few things that seem less homie and more ‘luxury’, if you’d care for that?” Grant continues, nudging his head toward the hallway at the back of his home, a warm orange tint to the corridor leading through a set of wooden stairs that trailing to the basement. “I have it beneath my house so I have to go out of my way to see it” Grant explains, “but even if it might seem a little ‘big city’, I do like to just walk around a little bit.” With a nod, Taylor watches Grant walk off, following behind the man as he makes for the staircase, a cozy oak door at the bottom maintained beyond the limestone rocks. With a creaking, the door slides open to reveal a massive room encased in concrete, shelves upon shelves lined from one side of the room to another, some covered in glass, others left to room temperature. “This is my wine cellar” Grant reveals, his arms held out at his sides to illustrate how ominously massive it is. “When I finished college, I had a few friends come over and hang out by the firepit” Grant explains, “every new addition to the group had to face an initiation.” “An initiation, college boy?” Taylor jokes, Grant smiling as he nods, accepting defeat in being returned to his early years. “The initiation was that they’d be locked in with a note until they found the exact bottle and brand that was written on the paper” Grant explained, “every single person would be given a nickname, and every nickname went with a symbol- find the right bottle, and you’d see your symbol right over the year printed.” Figuring out where this leads after already having walked into the middle of the cellar, Taylor turns around with a smirk, watching Grant close the door behind them, locking it. “Usually they’re told to do it on their own, but I figured I’d watch over this time” Grant concludes with grace, “also to make sure your beer-loving self didn’t get lost in this overpriced doomsday bunker.” His hands held behind his back, Grant folds his fingers together to lock them behind, head nodding toward the woman, a note left atop the stand beside one of the shelves. “1945 Romanee-Conti?” Taylor reads aloud in a tone similar to that of asking a question, “why that bottle?” With a smile and a shrug, Grant informs her that he can’t say any more until the bottle is found. “The rules of the game are simple, when you find the bottle, you’ll know why it’s your bottle” Grant explains, “the task is yours to complete, Oak.” Turning back toward the man, Taylor looks at him with her eyebrows furrowed, eyes squinted as he vows to clarify the nickname once the game concludes. Nodding to herself, Taylor glances back toward the collection of shelves and figures out where to look first, Grant walking up to her side and promising to follow wherever she chooses. “If you say so” Taylor remarks, walking off as Grant is quick to follow, her eyes surveying the collection, reading each bottle up and down as the massive bunker awaits it’s inspection.” | “I’ve got to go lie down” Shane says, leaving the kitchen and returning for his room, Aiden quietly trying to plead for him to stay to no avail. Now left without his roommate, Aiden stands in the kitchen alone, looking into the living room to notice the only other person still inside his home, Carly left to sit on the couch, looking at him with a wave. “How’ve you been?” Aiden asks, figuring a conversation was bound to spring up eventually, taking his moment to be responsible for starting it. “A lot of being ignored by Juno” Carly replies, “he’s kind of blaming me for the whole ‘tried to attack a co-worker’ thing.” Turning his eyes away, Aiden looks to the corner of the room as Carly takes notice, the woman immediately questioning the man’s visual response. “I was just looking away, that’s all” Aiden replies, an answer that Carly is not satisfied with, immediately challenging what Aiden believes. “Do you think it’s my fault?” Carly inquires, Aiden left to take a seat across the room from the woman, his hands held up, admitting that he wants to have no part in this discussion. “This is a conversation for you to have with your boyfriend, not me” Aiden explains, “if anything, I was just the person Juno got himself in trouble for attacking.” “He didn’t attack you for no reason” Carly replies, “he’s convinced we’ve been hooking up, that’s enough reason for you to be involved in this.” Before answering, Aiden notices something said in the last line that sticks out to him, attacking it repeatedly. “Are you saying you’re not convinced that we did?” Aiden wonders aloud, Carly left to stumble over her words, her inability to give a precise answer prodded at by the apartment’s resident. “You’re trying to convince yourself that we didn’t, aren’t you?” Aiden continues, Carly refusing such a notion, taking a tone, however, that leaves Aiden to take her answer as untrue. “I’m going to ask you this again- do you think we had sex?” Aiden clarifies, the answer already clear, though the woman’s attempt to explain the in detail leaving room for Aiden’s theory to find validation. “This isn’t a question that needs any more explanation than a ‘yes’ or a ‘no” Aiden continues, “so I’ll ask you again- did we have sex? Just give me a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’!” Her hands placed beside her head, Carly gives into the man’s request, offering a simple answer. “Yes” Carly replies, watching Aiden’s face turn into a disrespected smile before inquiring for the reason. “You don’t wanna believe you cheated on your boyfriend” Aiden remarks, “you wanna convince yourself that you did nothing wrong.” “Do I not have a reason to want to think that?” Carly questions, surprised at the ease in which Aiden answers. “You don’t have a reason to want that!” Aiden replies, “you cheated on your boyfriend- you don’t get to convince yourself you didn’t!” Watching Aiden stand up to leave the room, Carly follows after him, tailing him into the foyer and stopping him from walking through the door, pressing her back against the cold metal in an act of defiance. “If I don’t get to think I cheated on my boyfriend, you don’t get to think you have no responsibility in this!” Carly explains, immediately noticing her words to have gotten to the man. A wide smile on his face, Aiden laughs at the suggestion, “is that right?” the man inquires, walking back into the home as Carly assures him of the validity to her claims. “I may have cheated on Juno, but I cheated on Juno with you” Carly furthers, “so if we’re tracing the blame for Juno’s actions, it falls on both you and me!” Nodding to himself, Aiden repeats Carly’s statement in his own words, taking back the seat he had just left seconds prior. “Yes, because I- the victim- am also the perpetrator” Aiden dissects, “that makes all the sense in the world.” “It does to someone that thinks rationally” Carly replies, Aiden immediately making a quip about where to find such a rational thinker. The argument dying off, Aiden stands from his seat and looks toward Carly, both parties silently looking at each other with a mixture of anger and confusion, unsure of where this goes from here. “Is there something I’m missing?” Shane asks, having returned to the room to find both inhabitants staring at each other in a rather strange way. “No, Shane” Carly replies, picking up her bag and throwing a scarf over her neck, “you didn’t miss anything.” Walking away from the man, Carly storms out of the apartment, leaving Aiden stood where he already was, Shane looking at him in disappointment. “Go after her, you fool” Shane orders, watching Aiden look back at him, confused. “You heard me” Shane replies, repeating his words as Aiden remains standing there. With a deep breath, Aiden does as he’s told, marching through the foyer and exiting the apartment, Shane left standing in the middle of the empty room- alone. | “Josh, this is Sam Vickers” the man introduces, phone pressed against his ear, “if you get this, check your email. There will be a car and a note in the glove box waiting for me if something bad happens.” Abruptly ending the call, Vickers returns the phone to his pocket before exiting his vehicle, expensive shoes ruffling the gravel beneath his feet as his car door slams, his stride taking him to the motel patio. Confident, the man approaches the door with his fist in the air, knuckles tapping against the cold metal before him. “It’s about” Kelsi begins saying from the other end, answering the door to find herself confused by the visitor awaiting her response. “I’ll finish that thought for you” Vickers interrupts, “It’s about time we had ourselves a productive conversation.” With a smile, Vickers places his hand against the door and lets himself in, Kelsi gingerly closing the entrance behind the man as he begins to point out her change in attitude. “You seemed a lot more confident when you drugged and framed one of my producers, Ms. Dolin” Vickers begins, turning his head toward the woman at the front of the room, “is it the lack of your partner that’s got you less like a vengeful queen and more of a damsel in distress?” “What’re you doing here?” Kelsi wonders aloud, “more importantly why the fuck are you here?” With a smirk, Vickers takes a half-empty glass of vodka to his lips and downs what remains, assuring the woman that he isn’t here to cause her any harm. “From what it sounds like you pulled with Howard, please indulge me if I don’t believe much of what you say” Kelsi replies, “so what is the purpose of this visit?” Making himself at home, Vickers utilizes everything he has of illustrating confidence by taking a seat in the same chair that Kelsi had the night she confronted the group. “I’m here to trade you a story since that’s what you’re here for” Vickers replies, watching the expression on the woman’s face begin to shift, eyes narrowing and posture altering. “Let’s talk then” Kelsi replies, locking the motel door and returning to the middle of the room, taking a seat opposite the man and pouring him another glass. | “Why do all wine bottles look alike?” Taylor wonders aloud, Grant taking amusement at how far off she’s going. “Because you’re a New York girl” Grant replies, “you care more that your booze is worth the twenty bucks a small glass of it costs.” With a laugh, Taylor admits to the truth in the man’s statement, sympathizing for the pain her wallet has felt over past years. “If I’m going to wake up with a headache, it better have been worth it” Taylor quips. With a shrug, Grant admits that it was easy to notice with the attitude she first gave him. “You understand confidence and standard” Grant explains, “you take control when you have to, which many women don’t do as often as men. In other words, you were destined to prefer beer to wine.” “I wouldn’t say I was destined to do anything of the sort, sir” Taylor remarks, turning every bottle she comes across label-side up. “What were you destined to do then?” Grant questions, watching the woman smirk at every bottle she comes across, “I guess I was destined to do this” the woman jokes halfway through, scanning around the corridor before noticing something that catches her eye. “You don’t come down here all that often to just look around, do you?” Taylor asks, Grant quick to confirm her suspicions, a response that puts a smile on the woman’s face. Disregarding every bottle she walks by after that answer, Taylor stares into the glass cover to one shelf in particular, the dust particles found on the rest of the shelves not found upon this one, a set of fingerprints smoothly left embedded into the dusty coverage. Sliding the glass aside, Taylor reaches in to take the bottle from its home, Grant’s head hanging with a smile the moment he recognizes the game to be over. Turning the label toward her face, Taylor reads the brand and year aloud, finally looking to the neck of the bottle where a sticker waits for her eyes. “A crossed-out dollar sign?” Taylor asks, looking back to her chaperone, reminding him that she’s now owed an explanation. “The crossed-out dollar sign is another way of saying ‘priceless’” Grant explains, “other words for it can be ‘non-purchasable’, ‘invaluable’, or another set of words that I like a lot more.” Squinting toward the man before looking back to the bottle, Taylor awaits Grant’s response, their eyes locking as the tension builds. “One of A Kind” Grant finally reveals, the woman taking a moment to think about the words spoken before a smile fills her face. “O.A.K” Taylor quips, looking back to Grant for confirmation, the man smiling with another nod. “Other than priceless, a ‘45 Romanee-Conti- deemed by many as priceless- and ‘One of a Kind’ to others…” Grant continues, walking up to the woman and meeting her eyes with his own, “...just like you.” Reaching down, Grant takes the bottle from Taylor’s hand, gently placing it on the floor before reaching back up, his hands caressing each side of her face. “You deserve the best” Grant whispers, losing control of his face as Taylor takes his neck in her hands. “I already have it” Taylor responds, their eyes refusing to leave each other, having already fixated on what they believe the other to be. | Throwing himself out of the entry to the apartment, Aiden looks toward each side of the sidewalk before noticing Carly, running after the woman and pulling her back. “What the hell are you doing!?” Carly shouts, having wanted to leave their argument behind, believing Aiden to now be running after her in an effort to continue it. “I’m sorry” Aiden replies, catching the woman by surprise, Carly left looking at him, flustered. “What do you mean?” Carly asks, Aiden clarifying his stance. “We both made this mess, and we both deserve to deal with it together… Not apart” Aiden explains, “I refuse to let either of us believe anything else.” In the moment, Carly loses the worries she sported less than two minutes ago, something deep inside of her taking relief in not being alone in whatever comes next. “Thank you” Carly replies, the pair looking into each other’s eyes until Aiden’s phone begins to buzz, capturing the attention of both parties. “It’s Sam” Aiden exclaims as he pulls the phone from his jacket pocket, flipping the device open and placing it on speaker. “What’s up, Sam?” Aiden wonders aloud, the man on the other end telling him to listen closely. “We’ve got a much bigger issue on our hands than we realized” Vickers explains, staring at the patio intently, a rush of anger coming over him as his hand rests against the doorknob. “I need you to call everyone and let them know that Kelsi isn’t the only one behind all of this” Vickers remarks, his eyes frozen upon Howard, who stands on the patio staring angrily back at Vickers. “Howard Nalty is in on Kelsi’s scheme- and they have a lot more than we know how to counteract” Vickers concludes, “tell them to be here in thirty minutes or less.” The information sending them into overdrive, Aiden and Carly race back into the apartment to let Shane know, Aiden dialing Grant’s phone number as he ascends the conquering staircase. The room dark, only illuminated by the moonlight, Grant’s phone suddenly begins to buzz, the small screen light blasting a quarter of the room with a faint, white glow. Atop his own shirt and Taylor’s bra, the phone remains buzzing atop the man’s dresser, both those in the room unable to answer the call, its light fading without a response, simply left to silently ring as it pleases. == Tonight at 9 ==
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/ Tuesday, November 7th, 2006 /
“While it is unclear as of this moment whether or not the Democrats will gain control of the Senate, they have officially flipped three seats, and an additional three pending” Grant explains, joined at the desk by both Taylor and Carly, who round out the ongoing midterm election coverage. “As of now, it would appear likely that President Bush will be going against a Democratic House and potentially Democratic Senate” Grant concludes, “overall, not a great night for the President.” “Correct, and not a great night for Republicans either” Carly explains, her words rambling on in Grant’s ears, any voice other than his own drowned out on instinct. Her eyes casually drifting away from Carly, Taylor stares toward Grant apologetically, her regular co-anchor fixated on the woman across the desk from him, Taylor in a way exactly the opposite. “It remains to be seen, but it looks like a promising night if you’re a liberal American looking for a turn away from Bush, Grant” Carly finishes, prompting the man to turn back to the camera and take the broadcast into a commercial. “Can we please address what’s going on?” Taylor asks, Grant adamant about not wishing to get into the issues at hand. “I’ve said all I’ve needed to say, there’s nothing left you haven’t already heard” Grant replies, taking himself away from the desk. “I’d say the truth was the exact opposite of that” Taylor retorts as the pair vanish into Grant’s office. “What is there to say? You know the story, you know what I’m doing about it” Grant replies, “there’s nothing else to say, and you should hate me just as much as I hate myself.” Pulling a cigarette from his pack and striking a match, Grant let's Taylor have the floor to express herself, her refusal to acknowledge the truth, that even Grant himself acknowledges, slightly irritating him. “I’m not gonna say I know you more than your own family does, but I’ll say I know you well” Taylor explains, “and the man I see is not a man that would say things like that unprovoked.” A shrug coming from the man as the tip of his dart lights a bright orange, Grant refuses Taylor’s attempts to humanize his actions. “Provoked, unprovoked, it doesn’t matter” Grant responds, “whatever reason I had, I said it and that’s that.” Another drag falling from the stick of tobacco, Grant let's Taylor continue her attempts, outright refusal to acknowledge what he said becoming common amongst them. “I know who you are, and the hateful punk in that recording was not you” Taylor explains, a strike upon the desk from his fist allowing Grant to take the floor. “It isn’t that you believe I wouldn’t, it’s that you can’t admit that I can” Grant explains, “you have an image of me you can’t put aside.” “Why is it so hard for you to believe you could have a justified reason for saying that?” Taylor proceeds, continuing to challenge the man. “Because I covered up a prick’s rape allegation, got paid for it and ran away!” Grant replies, finally bringing a moment of silence upon the room, “if I could bring myself to that, this pales in comparison.” “Why isn’t the ability to accept that not the first thing you recognize about yourself?” Taylor asks, “why is it that you’re this evil guy when you’ve got something plaguing your conscience without realizing that the truly evil people are the ones that can’t recognize that at all?” “I don’t know Taylor, I just know what I know” Grant replies, “and the fact that I’d completely disregard someone as nothing but trash says more about me than I do.” Her eyes falling, Taylor notices the lack of self-respect the man before her sports, the inability to appreciate his own good whenever confronted with his own bad making it impossible to be imperfect. “I’m not going to say you’re the most perfectly kept-together guy there’s ever been” Taylor explains, “but you’ve got a hell of a lot more to you than the small flaws.” His head shaking, Grant reminds the woman that these are not small flaws, a notion which Taylor disagrees with entirely. “With all that you do, not just for yourself, but for everyone around you…” Taylor replies, “...Those just, as you would say it, pail in comparison.” Starting to attempt a response, Grant ceases his efforts, shaking his head and taking another drag from his cigarette, staring into the city as Taylor walks away. Still sat in his seat, Grant looks back toward the newsroom, watching the door close the final few inches from Taylor’s departure, nodding to himself before dying out the tobacco stick, adjusting his tie and returning to the news desk. = Tonight at 9 is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and the entity of Pacer1 Media from the start of Season 1 onwards = Walking through the newsroom, Taylor approaches Shane’s desk, telling him to keep his voice down before she says anything else. “I’ll try my best” Shane replies, Taylor crouching to her knees before pulling Shane closer toward her, keeping their words hidden within a whisper. “I’m going to give you an address and I want you to scout the place out” Taylor explains, “if the woman inside leaves, I need you to follow her at all times… Don’t interact with her, just keep your eye on her.” “May I ask what would happen if I were to be arrested?” Shane proceeds, Taylor telling him to call Aiden and let them know where to pay bail before walking off. Considering this to be his mission for the evening, Shane hands his remaining workload onto the next associate producer and makes his way toward the front doors, exiting the building in a hurry. “You sending Shane on recon?” Aiden inquires, Taylor staring out the window with her hands on her hips, admitting there to have been few options on the table. “Well we can stalk the poor woman or accept Grant's fine bending over for her and leave it at that” Aiden explains, Taylor reminding him of the problems this leaves. “He’s already kicking himself and walking out to the desk stiff as a wooden board” Taylor responds, “is that what the Nielsen ratings want?” “They’re not what Nielsen wants, but it’s what Grant wants” Aiden replies, “who are we to tell him how to and how not to approach this?” “Because it’s borderline self-destructive” Taylor remarks, watching Aiden roll his eyes before questioning what he believes. “Do you think Grant said all of that for no reason or what?” Taylor wonders aloud, surprised by Aiden’s response. “I don’t think Grant said it at all as a matter of fact” Aiden replies, “but regardless of what we can prove, Grant’s not going to believe it was anyone else on the other end of that recording.” “Hold on- what do you mean you don’t think it was Grant at all?” Taylor replies, leaving Aiden to repeat his words before suddenly realizing what the woman is trying to do. “No, I will not give you another source of hope to latch onto” Aiden explains, “you’re trying to fix Grant’s problem when he doesn’t think he has a problem to fix… Stop mitigating.” “Grant will implode if he continues to go on thinking he derailed a woman’s entire career” Taylor replies, taken aback by Aiden’s response once more. “He didn’t have much of a problem staying quiet after he hid everything about Howard and Jessica” Aiden replies, “from the way I see it, if you’re looking for something to hold onto, start hoping he forgets about it and slowly comes to his fucking senses.” “That’s not fair” Taylor replies, a snapping Aiden turning toward her with the reply of a belief that borders on the exact opposite. “It was plenty fair when you first met him and judged him by literally only that” Aiden recalls, “it’s only ‘not fair’ now because you’re enamored with him.” Her mouth slightly ajar, Taylor backs away with her head shaking from one side to another, walking back toward the door before taking herself to the newsdesk. “That was harsh, boss” one of the crew calls out toward Aiden, the man’s eyes watching Taylor walk the rest of the way back to the desk, her face trying to hide that the man’s words had gotten to her. “I know it was” Aiden responds, “but at this point, it needed to be said.” | Phone buzzing in his pocket, Shane answers to an unknown number with a curious greeting. “Shane Weathers, this is Sam Vickers calling to make sure you haven’t fucked everything up yet” Vickers greets, a surprised Shane apologizing for the tone of his introduction. “No worries, you’re out there doing my dirty work” Vickers explains, “when you do the work I’m too much of a priss to do myself, you can call me the son of a cunt-duster if you’d prefer.” “I certainly won’t take you up on that offer, but I’m happy to let you know that all is fine thus far” Shane explains, “the woman hasn’t left her room and she keeps pacing back and forth.” Eyebrows furrowed, Vickers asks the man to explain what he had just said with slightly more detail to latch onto. “She’s got the light on in her room, her shadow keeps walking from one side of the room to the other in the curtains” Shane replies, “she’s holding her jaw or something, she’s got the same pose each time she passes.” “You’re sure she’s in there?” Vickers wonders aloud, Shane clarifying that she’s changed her posture several times. “If she was a partially living mannequin, I’d know by now” Shane continues, “she’s definitely in there, but she just keeps pacing… That’s the only weird thing about it.” “Well have you noticed anything-” Vickers begins, cut off by Shane verbally coming to notice something odd within the shadows. “Wait, now there are two shadows” Shane replies, “hers and something else’s” This information catching him by surprise, Vickers thinks of a new strategy until Shane offers more. “She’s leaving the motel” Shane explains, “the other shadow is walking further into the room, but she’s going for her car.” “Okay, get in your car and follow after her” Vickers replies, “stay a few yards behind her, but don’t let her out of your sight.” Reading the man’s orders loudly and clearly, Shane returns his phone to his pocket, feet marching along the grass before vanishing with the man into his vehicle. Watching Kelsi’s car drive off into the night, Shane waits a moment before taking off after her himself, kicking up a trail of dirt as his wheels sputter along the roadtop. | “You’ve been great tonight” Aiden says to Carly on his way by, hand tapping the woman on the shoulder as they pass. “Thanks” Carly responds, continuing to walk in the opposite direction before coming to a slow stop, her eyes trailing backward before her body responds in much the same way. Avoiding an encounter with a trail of workers heading in the opposite direction, Carly tails Aiden until her arm is taken into the grasp of another man. “Hey, babe” Juno greets, leaning in for a kiss, the woman beside him reciprocating quickly before glancing up, Aiden having turned a corner by this point. “Do you think we can talk real quick?” Juno wonders, Carly glancing around the room before a sudden smile appears upon her face. “Of course, follow me” Carly answers, taking Juno by the hand and leading him down the hallway at the end of the newsroom, one door after another leading him into more cramped corridors. In the distance, Carly can hear a door quietly close, latching into place and offering the woman a selected destination. Hurrying to the end of the hall, Carly pushes in the big, blue door she could swear she heard close, finding a set of familiar faces on the other side. “Of course she’d have someone over, she’s a reporter” Aiden replies, Vickers beginning to suggest otherwise before noticing the door swing open. “Sorry, did you guys need this room?” Carly asks, Vickers suggesting as much. “My apologies” Carly responds, “We'll find another place.” Turning around to leave, Carly feels her wrist be taken into a tighter grip within Juno’s hand, the man turning toward her with a confused look on his face. “You picked this room for a reason” the man proclaims, watching Carly’s eyes roll in disappointment, “there’s literally no other room in this pocket of the hallway, you chose this one for a reason.” “Juno, you’re being paranoid again” Carly responds, attempting to lead the man further out into the hallway to no avail. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but Sam and I have import-” Aiden begins to explain, now shouted at by Juno to stay silent, a gesture which Vickers takes immediate displeasure at. “You’re not going to barge in here and tell anyone to shut their mouths when you invade a conversation, Mr. McIntosh!” Vickers declares, “get your composure in check!” “Why?” Juno asks Carly, his head turning back toward her, “you’ve been unmoving for months at this point, and this sketchy shit just keeps going on!” Playing the only card he knows at the moment, Aiden quietly turns toward Vickers with his hands held out, pretending he has no clue what is going on at the moment. “Don’t play dumb, asshole!” Juno calls Aiden, watching the executive producer look at him in surprise, “I know there’s something going on between you two!” His finger raised in Aiden’s direction, Juno continues to add pressure to the grip on Carly’s wrist, the third person in the love triangle finally breaking his silence to warn Juno that he’s hurting his girlfriend’s arm. “Don’t tell me what to do!” Juno shouts back toward Aiden, silenced when Vickers threatens to fire him on the spot. Enraged beyond the point of return, Juno lets go of Carly’s hand, allowing the woman to fall to the floor before charging into the room, his hand taking Aiden by the throat and pressing him against the wall. “Admit it, you son of a bitch!” Juno demands of the man within the space between his thumb and index finger, adding pressure to the man’s larynx before the threat is swiftly dealt with. In the span of a second, Vickers takes the heel of his foot to the back of Juno’s knee, bringing the much larger man to a kneel. His fingers latching onto Juno’s hair, Vickers pulls the man’s head back, laying a blow to the middle of Juno’s throat with his elbow, taking the air out of his lungs with ease. Removing his phone from his pocket, Vickers dials a number, calling into the recipient on the other end to get security into the newsroom to escort Juno from the premises. “We’ll talk about it all later” Vickers tells Aiden, leaving the man behind with Carly, the pair staring toward each other in different levels of fear as Vickers leaves the room, letting the issues between the two settle without his presence. | His car door slamming shut, Shane steps onto the property of a downtown bar and grill, following the blue dress of the woman he’s been told to tail. Her shaven legs reflecting the lights above her, Kelsi takes a seat at the bar as Shane watches, taking a table a short distance away, pulling a menu into his hand and holding it in front of his face. “What can I get you?” a waitress asks, catching Shane by surprise, the man tilting back slightly. “I’ll take a water for right now, please” Shane replies, flashing the waitress a smile and folding his hands, looking out into the sea of people before turning back toward the counter, Kelsi nowhere to be found. “Aw fuck” Shane mutters to himself, leaving his seat and turning around, a finger pressing against his chest, guiding him back to his seat. “No one comes here and starts an order with water” Kelsi explains, watching the panic come over the man a mere few inches away. “Don’t worry, I expected you” Kelsi explains, “I wouldn’t think to point fingers toward Grant in front of numerous people- all with their own reasons for believing him to be this nice, honest guy- if I didn’t expect some would try to debunk me.” His hands held up, Shane begins to refuse any alliance with any one person or group, only for his efforts to be dashed the moment the woman takes his belt into her hand, staring at the LMC Media clip where his phone would otherwise be. “I’m not an idiot and I’m not new to this” Kelsi continues, lightly grazing Shane’s privates with the nail on her finger before walking over to the other side of the table. “I’m just here for a drink” Shane explains, continuing to keep the appearance intact, “I may work for LMC, I may know who Grant is, but I am only here for the steak.” Eyes narrowing, Kelsi tries to visually poke holes in his story, looking the man up and down, from the top of his head to the final portion of his abdomen not covered by the edge of the table. Her head tilting to one side silently, Kelsi continues to stare before shrugging, admitting that she may have herself mistaken. “At least you noticed that” Shane explains, “but I should warn you ahead of time- just in case you’re making yourself comfortable- I’m already seeing someone.” “Aw, pity me” Kelsi replies without concern, brushing off Shane’s statement as if it both doesn’t matter, and isn’t any loss of hers to take. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression” Shane continues, attempting to step away from the table with a more innocent expression, only for said attempt to be dashed quickly, Kelsi’s hand pressing against his, politely requesting that he stay. “Like I said, I’m already seeing someone, and-” Shane begins, cutting off the moment the waitress brings out his water, a gesture that puts a smile on the woman’s face. “You can’t go anywhere now that you’ve got water to pay for” Kelsi says with enthusiasm, sucking the man into remaining at the table, “enjoy New York’s finest from the tap.” | Her knuckles pressing against the door to the man’s office, Taylor hears the welcome from Grant and steps inside. “Hey” Taylor greets, “you were great tonight.” “Did I sound as much of a Democrat as I did last month?” Grant wonders, Taylor nodding with a smile on her face. “No, you were great” Taylor replies, watching the man undo his tie and throw his casual jacket over his dress shirt, “you’re always great.” Taking a second glance at the woman, Grant flashes her a smile and thanks her for the compliment. With another nod, the woman walks closer to the man, Grant’s eyes marveling at the sights of New York City before him, the woman behind him now making her way beside him. “We got really lucky with this job” Taylor mutters to herself, Grant insisting their luck has taken them even further with the view they’ve been afforded. “It does put a lot of things into perspective” Taylor replies, “a lot like how you approach someone.” Confused, Grant looks to Taylor with intrigue, a hidden joy in his face that hadn’t been present in recent weeks. “What do you mean?” Grant asks, watching Taylor’s eyes remain fixated on the world outside, his own face turned toward the woman while hers remains on what rests ahead. “I judged you harshly when you first came in here” Taylor explains, “it didn’t even take you half a day to prove me completely wrong.” His head hung, Grant puckers his lips, intending to say something self-deprecating once more, only for Taylor to cut him off before he can get the chance.”I don’t wanna hear about what you said before in the recording, it doesn’t matter right now” Taylor explains, “what matters is who I thought you were, and who you showed me you actually were.” “That’s all down to impression” Grant replies, “as I’ve said before, you had your opinion and I was a rare example of someone proving you wrong. That carries a lot of weight for a lot of people.” The woman continues to stare out at the city below, Taylor listens to Grant clear his throat and adjust his words, continuing to deny that he’s worth to the woman what she believes him to be. “You shouldn’t think I'm someone I’m not when-” Grant continues, stopped mid-sentence when Taylor turns around and reaches her hand over his shoulder, taking the back of his head into her hands and pulling him into a kiss. After a few moments, ones that feel like minutes, the kiss breaks, Grant staring at the woman with a surprise that he hadn’t had as far back as he can remember. “I know you think I saw what I wanted to, but I’m taking it as my chance to prove you wrong right now” Taylor explains, “I know evil people, I know bad people, and I know assholes… You are none of those things.” Struggling to find another set of words to use, Grant stands there trying desperately to contain a smile, failing to do so as the woman pulls away. “It wasn’t that you proved me wrong” Taylor remarks, “it’s what you proved me wrong about.” With a sigh, Taylor recalls her first days with the company, speaking about them as if they were darker times than the ones either she or Grant face now. “I was interning and I had just finished school” Taylor recollects, “so now I was looking at trying to get myself up the ladder and in front of the camera’s.” Her eyes directed toward the floor, Taylor stands in the centre of the room, continuing to illustrate the times in their most honest form. “The host at the time hadn’t been someone used to getting less from his staff than his contract from the executives offered” Taylor explains, holding back her emotions of anger and sadness, “so if he got paid millions, he expected his staff to work as if they were worth millions.” Swallowing her pride, Taylor continues to explain what the world was like for her when she first came in as Grant slowly approaches, watching her struggle to overcome the fear of revealing what she is intending to. “And he saw a pretty little blonde college grad as the perfect figure to get what he wanted, whenever it was” Taylor continues, “so when I said no, he didn’t see that as being worth the millions he was paid.” Clearing her throat and wiping the lone tear from her face, Taylor continues to explain, Grant placing his hands to her shoulders and looking her in the eyes as she gets to the final portions of the story. “So he drugged me, took me back to his penthouse- and I’m sure you can guess the rest” Taylor recalls, “I woke up the next day and spent ten minutes looking around the room for where he threw my clothes the night prior.” Her head tilting to one side gradually over time, Taylor’s cheek ends up on the back of Grant’s hand by the conclusion of the story, feeling her emotions give out at the man’s touch. “So I went to HR, and they did nothing” Taylor continues, “and the higher up, the less people did until I finally found the person that was actually willing to just do something about it.” With a slight grin, Grant takes his best-educated guess at the name of the person she praises as having done something. “Sam Vickers” Grant calls out, Taylor’s sad frown turning into a wide smile, a gentle nod to confirm his suspicions. “He fired the guy on the spot and let him walk away with a nice payday to keep the company’s reputation intact” Taylor explains, “and the only reason he let the company tuck it under the rug is because he put me in charge of ‘Tonight at Nine’.” Clearing her throat, Taylor concludes her story before advancing to the reason behind its importance. “He wanted me to be able to start without all of this nonsense attached to me” Taylor explains, “to this day, he’s the only person here that actually knows what happened. And, I guess, now he’s not the only one anymore.” With a deep breath, Taylor explains that Grant would have never walked into the building had it not been for Vickers. “From that day, I reminded him that I ‘owed him one’, and he never took it-” Taylor continues, “-until January 9th, 2006.” His sympathetic grin now deteriorating into a look of confusion, Grant begins to see where all of the puzzle pieces fit, Taylor assuring him of his accuracy in real time. “He calls me into his office and tells me that he found a second anchor for the show” Taylor explains, “he told me he saw something in you and used that to get me to let you into the building- and it wasn’t long before I saw it, too.” With a smile, Taylor continues to look into Grant’s eyes before pulling him in for another kiss, the pair not breaking the interaction apart, embracing it, and welcoming it until the moment Grant no longer does. “I can’t do this” Grant explains, confusing the woman, who looks at him with worry. “It’s not because of you- it would never be because of you” Grant explains, “but this isn’t the man you deserve- or at least not the man I am right now.” Her hands pressing against the sides of the man’s face, Taylor assures Grant that he is everything she believes him to be, finally watching the man embrace that as true. “Even if I am what you think I am… I’m not in the headspace I should be for you” Grant explains, “if this is something I can get over and live with, that’s the person you deserve… Not whatever I am right now.” Swallowing the build up in her mouth, Taylor wipes away the tears and laughs off the pain, her hands waving toward the man as he tries to apologize. “It’s fine” Taylor explains, “seriously, it’s fine… I get it… I completely understand.” Catching her breath, Taylor continues to swipe at the tears on her cheek and pulls away, telling Grant to leave it at that before hurrying through the door. “Taylor, I don’t-” Grant tries to call out to the woman, his words cut off the moment the door closes behind her, leaving him in the office alone, nothing but the dim orange glow of his desk light to illuminate the room. Keeping on a brave face, Taylor marches through the busy floor and stumbles upon the women’s washroom. On instinct, Taylor pushes the door in and shoves a janitor’s broom into the handle, checking each stall for an occupant before knowing she’s completely alone. On the verge of breaking down, Taylor looks into the direction of a specific corner, a potted plant placed in it. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Taylor walks into the same corner and pulls the plant away from the wall, leaving the empty space in its place. In a moment, the woman goes from standing with her eyes toward the ground, to seated in the corner with her legs tucked into her arms. Too great to overcome, Taylor’s head drops between her arms, now allowing the emotions to present themselves, stomach turning with deep pain. | “It’s a lot bigger than most motel rooms” Shane explains, a worried look on his face as he eyes the direction of hallways and open doors. “Motel rooms need to evolve to keep people from opting for hotels instead” Kelsi explains, turning toward the man once she reaches the edge of her bed, “it’s their way of accommodation.” With a nod, Shane continues to walk forward, apologizing to the woman for giving her the wrong impression once again, a suggestion she brushes off immediately. “You’ve given me exactly the impression I needed from you” Kelsi explains, falling onto the bed with Shane’s tie in her hand, pulling the man closer until he’s crawled onto the bed with her. Undoing the tie, Kelsi refuses to let Shane politely decline her advances, tossing the fabric across the room and tearing the man’s shirt both open and off. “Seriously, I don’t want this, I’m sorry” Shane continues, his hands reaching out as he continues to plead his case, stopped midway through by a sharp pain. “You were great company but I am not-” Shane stops, a needle pulled from his neck a mere second later as he slowly loses consciousness. With a smile, Kelsi takes a camera from her bedside and hands it to the figure she shares the room with, the flash of the camera catching the sight of Shane’s shirtless body atop Kelsi’s. The poses are sexual in nature, all showing different angles to capture each detail, the results leaving Kelsi pleased. “Well done” Kelsi explains, “it’s all working out perfectly.” Discarding the man, Kelsi lets Shane fall to the ground before wiping herself off, taking the photo from the man’s hands and walking into the depths of the room with it, leaving Shane to the man’s care. “We should draw a bath to celebrate” Kelsi calls aloud, the man left with Shane responding coldly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” the man explains, “the more leverage we hold, the less room they have to breathe.” == Tonight at 9 == |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
March 2023
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