26 Hes Back (1/2)

However much I want to stand by her, I have to go to work too.

I believe I have made it clear to that lady nurse that she will do everything to keep Eloisa from the nutcase asylum. Still, why can I not remember what happened in that nutcase asylum entirely? What had happened that day that my brain is locking away? As I walk out of the hospital, I try looking straight ahead. This might help me recall everything. As I try to recall that memory, it was that same flashes of a cold winter day, electrocutions, and torture. Nothing more.

Maybe I'm just a bit tired. Maybe I need to sleep it all away.

*

I arrive at the newsroom with my colleagues working their butts off. As I log my entry, another colleague of mine rushes in front of me as he hands his story to his editor. The paper sure is busy. Besides us having to make the stories, we have to print and edit it on the same day. There is no cause for delay because we have to publish it by tomorrow. Major TV outlets still depend on local papers for their news. Lucia City Times is just one of these primary sources.

Should I head out today and find a story? I don't know. I believe I have delivered enough to the table. Maybe they can just wait until I solve this de la Rama case and the other deaths related to his. I toss my briefcase on my desk without ceremony. Even though it lets out a bang when I tossed it, my next cubicle colleague does not even mind to see that I am already here. That's just how busy they are.

In my tired self, I drag myself to the water dispenser. I need some water. While taking sips, I look up at the news. It seems that the newsroom chose to play AMC TV's noontime news. Nothing much is going in the country. It's just the same. It's the same petty crimes of robberies, murder, and minor abuse. No one even watches this except for me right now. My colleagues just use the TV as some sort of white noise. Quite odd indeed.

After those petty crimes, some sort of breaking news interrupts the basic flow of their stories.

”This just in,” the anchor at the TV says while reading her papers. ”Mateo Jonathan Macedo, son of former CEO of AMC TV Amasio Macedo inherits AMC TV and all its subsidiaries. After a meeting of the board of directors of AMC TV, Macedo is also declared CEO of AMC TV. Here is reporter Selena Lopez at the AMC conference hall with her news.”

What I heard from the TV just flies over my head. Mateo is alive? Mateo is actually alive? Is this what Ysabel meant when she said that I have to see for myself what happens? I don't understand. How could Mateo inherit the company? As I try to listen closely to the news, all the words just fly over my head. Each sip I take from my cup of water is like a sip away from reality. The TV does not speak to me, but my colleagues do.

”Hey, isn't that our reporter. What's he doing there?”

”TV says he's the new CEO. Who knew that that ambitious lowlife is actually an elite?”

”Is he the reason why Rosanna is slacking recently? I mean, we are all roaming around Lucia City looking for fresh stories, but Rosanna, she's just coming and going without any fresh articles.”

”I wonder why she's still here.”

”The boss likes her. After that paper about de la Rama and the Concepcions, our paper is selling like crazy. The masses sure do love a good gossip.”

Of course, good ol' colleague rivalry. So, this is what it's all about? That article Mateo and I wrote. As I listen to their conversation, I can feel myself crumpling my cup into a ball. In my anger, I can feel my eyebrows meet.

”A good gossip that destroys the integrity of journalism, that's for sure,” one of my colleagues continue.

”The boss sure does love anything that sells or anything that sucks, if you know what I mean.”

What the hell? How could he say that so lewdly with a wink to my colleague? That's it. I toss my paper cup at the nearest bin and gave him the hardest slap I could do.

”What did you just say?” I ask bluntly while pointing my finger to his face. I could feel the heated atmosphere around me. All of a sudden, the newsroom is quiet. Reporters stopped typing their articles. Interns stopped walking around with their heavy paper load. Even the TV is turned off for the sake of our argument.

”Oh, you have no answer?” I continue. ”You think I'm a slacker and a sucker, right?”

He does nothing. All he could do is look at his feet. ”I did not mean to say that. We were just kidding.”

I can't bear it. As I was about to say something, I turn away from him and face my colleagues. ”And does anyone here have to say about me? Are you going to accuse me of sleeping my way towards my position?”

”We mean you no offense, Rosanna,” he continues. ”It was not – ”

”And I thought we are supposed to be united in letting the truth prevail instead of spreading rumors about one's colleague,” I interrupt him. I look at everyone's faces. They could not say anything. I don't care about my words. The boss might fire me for this, but I will not let my colleagues trample me around like a rag doll.

With all eyes on me, I take my camera and my notepad sitting on my desk. I put my heels back on and take my briefcase with me. ”I'm taking the AMC TV CEO story!” I exclaim in front of everyone. ”Maybe it's time not to slack anymore and write another article. You know, so people won't accuse me of being a sucker.”

*

So, AMC TV, we see each other finally. I stand before the grand building of their headquarters. I stand before this building as a reporter. I put on my ID as a Lucia City Times reporter. Lucia City Times is the most neutral when it comes to its news. We do not ally ourselves with any other media company. Our CEO, the boss, is just an ordinary man and all of us are ordered to let the truth prevail without bias. Even the government reads our papers due to its honest news reporting.

That's when it hit me.

They will not entertain an interview with me, a rival media company. I stand before this building as a representative for the most neutral news company in the country. I find myself with no choice. I take off the ID. I shall have to face this another way.

I pull out random papers from my briefcase. I put away my notepad and camera. With my head held high, I enter through the revolving doors without any hesitation. As I walk towards the reception, I take out another ID, my Social Security ID. In front of me, I see the receptionist taking an urgent call.

”Hi, I'm here for the job interview,” I say confidently to the receptionist.

”For what job, ma'am?” the receptionist replies.

”Reporting, miss,” I say to her.