Max sat on the couch in
Clare’s apartment, his phone pressed to his ear. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with
his producers, but he had no choice.
They paid the bills, so when they spoke he had to listen.
“What do you mean you
aren’t sure about the format change?” Max shook his head. He had been over this with them a thousand
times. “You saw how good the Fantasy
Land special turned out, and it tested through the roof. People don’t give a shit about watching me
wander around a dark house. They want the
stories, the history. They want to be
freaked out, not bored stiff.”
“I know, Max, but the
network isn’t sure they want to take the risk.”
His producer, a middle aged woman named Liz, could sweet talk a homeless
man out of spare change, had that snide, ‘I know what’s best for you’ tone to
her voice.
“Well, I owe them one
more special, so I’m going to give them one more special. No lock in, or me freaking out at the sound
of a floorboard creaking. This is going
to be real, investigative journalism. We
are going to get to the bottom of that myth, and it’ll be amazing TV.”
“Max, darling, you’re a
ghost hunter, not Anderson Cooper.” Liz’s voice took on a mocking tone. “Just do the lock in, get us some creepy
night vision footage, and maybe an interview or two with the locals, and call
it a day.”
“Bitch.” He mumbled the word under his breath, but he
was sure Liz heard it.
“About the Fantasy Land
special. We had to cut part of it.”
“What part?” Max could feel the muscles in his back tightening.
“The section on that
girl, Brittany. It makes legal
uncomfortable.” Liz paused. “It’s a great story, but it’s too much. It’s too over the top. I mean, no one will believe that she went
missing in the park, let alone, got killed.”
“But she did.” Max’s teeth were gritted so tight his jaw
hurt. “It’s on the tapes.”
“I don’t doubt that, but
we don’t want to set off any alarms with the police, so…” He could hear her
taking a deep breath on the other end.
“We had to cut it.”
“That section was a
tribute to a friend of mine, Liz.”
“I’m sorry Max, but we
just can’t take the risk. You know that
it’ll be better for the show.”
He hated showbiz. He hated the way his producer would talk to
him like he was an insolent child.
Everything was always for his own good.
He wanted to tell Liz to take her
show and shove it, but he knew he wouldn’t.
He needed that show. He needed
his fans. So, his integrity always ended
up taking a back seat.
He wrapped up the call,
and tossed his phone down.
He had planned to
surprise Clare with the tribute, but now that wasn’t happening. The more he thought about it, the more he
realized that maybe it was a blessing in disguise. He had no clue how she would react.
Still, it hurt to have
them axe a segment that had meant so much to him. Especially after he had pulled the special
together so quickly.
They had never gotten
enough usable footage to construct a normal episode, and the network had panicked. He had been the one who had pulled the
interviews from the local reporters and police.
He was the one who constructed the narrative around the missing college
students, who had interviewed their friends and family. He was the one who pieced enough of the
footage together to create the perfect story.
He was the one who had
lived through that whole, fucking mess.
He rubbed his
temples.
The Heartsong Island
special was going to be his ticket out of schlock TV. Sure, it was nothing more than a ghost story,
but it was his chance to show that he could create a compelling docu-series.
He had never admitted it
to Clare, but their experiences together had changed his whole view on the
supernatural. When he had started his
work, he had been nothing more than a showman.
He saw a niche that people were clamoring for, and he jumped at it. Now, after being face to face with some
pretty horrific and vile supernatural creatures, he saw his chance to show the
world a different side of things. He saw
his chance at exposing the dangers that were really out there.
For once, he felt like he
wanted to be taken seriously.
He had Clare to thank for
that. She had been the one who had made
him grow up and open his eyes. She was
his knight in shining armor. It was odd
to say that, but it was true. She had
saved his life, and she had given him strength.
He hadn’t said it out
loud yet, but he had fallen in love with her.
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