Episode5_The_Interview
2038 Words
The room was far too silent.
Early morning light created faint shadows over the floor as April sat on a velvet sofa in Warren's Fifth Avenue penthouse. Outside the city was just waking up, but her mind had been churning all night. She had never slept. How could she possibly?
The narrative had gone like wildfire.
Hashtags burned on social media threads: #WhitmoreScandal, #FakeFiancee, #AprilExposed. t****k users were analyzing her clothes. Online forums were discussing the validity of the agreement. For a fee, gallery cancellations and PR firms providing damage control filled her inbox.
Warren arrived, phone to his ear, newly showered.
“No statement to the media." Not anything yet. We reject. We reroute,” he stopped and waited. " Tell the board this has no bearing on the sustainability launch." We shall take care of it.
He stared at her after disconnecting the call.
“Ready?” April snorted. Ready to be crucified on national television? Not quite. "The interview is in four hours." CNN worldwide. I pulled strings to ensure the host is neutral. You will get ready. Coached;
“I'm not a robot”.
"No. You are a wildfire. But we need that fire under control right now”.
April rose up. "I did not enroll in this kind of public humiliation."
“You signed up to create a phony relationship with a millionaire. Privacy never comes to an end that way."
"I didn't leak those emails."
“I know”.
Dense silence followed. She leaned back and crossed her arms.
"Why does this?" Why not let the tale die?”
“Because letting it die makes it look true. My board will not allow a PR liability. Already, my mother is pushing for answers. And if you believe the press is merciless, you haven't encountered the corporate sharks sniffing blood.”
"So I'm damage control now?"
“You are my fiancee We market the illusion. Make them forget the script and believe the performance.”
And should I mess it up?
Warren then stared at her. Truly stared.
“You won't.”
__________________________________
The stylist arrived an hour later, followed by a media coach named Lisa who smelled like lavender and moved like a Broadway director
Lisa advised, "Your stance is great; yet, we need greater warmth in your voice." They are not just listening to your words. They are reading your soul."
“I thought I was meant to be controlled fire.”
“Exactly. Warm. Not heating. Graceful rebellion. Like Michelle Obama on a good day."
April grumbled. “I am not made for this.”
Lisa arched her brow. “You are an artist, darling. Pretend it's performance art.”
April felt like she had two personas battling inside her chest by the time they arrived at the network's Upper West Side studio.
One was yelling to escape.
The other was surprisingly collected; like the part of her that had agreed to this whole mess had known, somehow, that this moment would come.
She was fitted with a lapel microphone backstage. Sade Eniola, the host, a sophisticated British-Nigerian reporter, entered the room.
Sade declared with a grin, "I've read the headlines." “I am, however, interested in the truth under them. Are you ready to tell it?
Warren responded before April could. “That's the reason we are here.”
They were seated side by side on a gold-accented cream set. The lights warmed April's cheeks. The cameras spun. The red light flickered.
Sade looked at them.
Joining me today are Warren Whitemore, billionaire tech entrepreneur, and his fiancée, visual artist April Johnson. Welcome.
April nodded "Thank you for having us."
"I must start with the question everyone's asking. Are the two of you really committed or is this relationship a business arrangement?”
Warren didn't blinked. “We are engaged.”
April met Sade gaze “And this is not a commercial activity. It is complicated, without doubt. In matters, though, it's real.”
Sade arched an eyebrow. "That sounds like an answer with layers."
April leaned in just a bit. "I'm not here to push a dream. I am here because I believe in what we are building. Warren and I differ considerably. Still, among the pandemonium, we have discovered something sincere.”
Warren commented, "The leaked emails are faked." We are now looking into their origin. Furthermore, we are proceeding legally.
Sade continued, “And yet, you have to confess the timing is off.” You show yourself in public. Rumors crop up. You then arrange this interview.”
April had a little smile. "Would you prefer we vanish? Transparency is lacking in that. That's fear.
The studio pulsed with silent whispers and flashing lights following the interview. Before vanishing behind the curtain of producers and technicians, Sade flashed April a friendly smile and shook her hand. Pacing, Warren was already on the phone.
Pulling her coat tightly around her shoulders, April stepped out into the freezing New York air. She desired to breathe. ponder. Fly.
Her phone vibrated with notifications—too many to count. She paused before i********: started to load.
The CNN official clip had gone live.
Likes numbering thousands. Thousands of responses.
I'm not sure, she sounded real. @theartsafro At its greatest, this is damage control: @highsocietymama. PR 101. Should this be untrue, I am unconcerned. I ship it.
Her head turned.
Dunni stepped out holding a tablet when a black SUV stopped at the curb.
"You're going worldwide," she added, her tone hard to read. Your name, that garment, your statement about not hiding—legendary.”
April patted her temples. "I sense like I have survived combat."
Dunni gave her a protein bar. “Eat. Hydrate. The repercussions are only starting.”
They rode in silence. Warren was already looking at statistics back at the penthouse; his face showed a mask of control.
She did not try too much, he whispered.
"She did not need to," April answered. “The public's already decided.”
She didn't push too hard, he murmured.
April responded, "She didn't need to." “The public has already made a decision.”
Then let's maintain the strain." a subsequent article. Something private. From you."
April opened her eyes. You expect me to develop into a brand right now?
“I want you to stay relevant.”
She laughed bitterly. "funny. I once believed my art would do that.”
Unread eyes looked up at him. "You are the art now."
- Everything broke the following day.
Dominating the newsstands was a glossy magazine cover: Exposé: Warren's Longtime Love Tells All."
Lorraine.
There she was, photographed poolside in L.A., skin radiant, hair perfect, sneer venomous.
"I kept his secrets for years. I told him not to play with fire. These days he is negotiating business using ladies.”
The piece was merciless.
Looking at Warren, April threw the journal onto the counter. "Did you know she'd do this?"
"I haven't seen her since we broke up."
“She labeled me a contracted accessory.”
Warren's jaw stiffened. “My attorneys are taking care of it.”
"No. I will take care of it."
He then paused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I am not a damselette." I have to speak with her. Face to face.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
"I did not ask for your consent."
He headed toward her. "She's deceptive." She will twist anything you say.”
"Then I will untwist it."
__________________________________
Finding Lorraine was not difficult.
Dunni received the address. Warren declined to go. "She will perform if she spots me."
Arrived at a Soho rooftop bar just after nightfall. Lorraine was already waiting, enjoying a lemon martini, sunglasses perched on her nose as if it was still summer.
"April," she remarked fondly. “You are taller in person.”
April grinned not. “You're braver in print.”
Lorraine laughed and waved for a waitress. Drink?
"Of course not. You are here to retell your story. Very noble.” "You did not come forward because you value the truth. Bored being irrelevant, you came."
"Ouch." You said he uses women like corporate partnerships. Perhaps he does not. But we're both grownups. I decided. So did you.”
Lorraine watched her briefly. "He will damage you. You recognize, correct?
April bent over. "He did not run to the press. You are.”
“I was silent for years.”
"No one silenced you. He released you. And you hated it.
Lorraine's eyes blazed. “He will drop you.” Just like he dropped me."
"Maybe." Should I stumble, nevertheless, it won't be because of you.
April rose and started "Good luck with your fifteen minutes."
She abandoned her unopened drink and walked away without glancing back.
Warren had been waiting when she returned.
“Well?” he wondered.
“She’s resentful. "Did she say anything helpful?"
“She said you damage people.”
He glanced away. “She’s not wrong.”
She is. Because people only destroy others when they cease to care. And I believe you care too much."
His eyes fell back on her. That's the issue.”
She moved nearer. “Perhaps.” Alternatively perhaps it's the treatment.”
The sky over Manhattan that evening foretold rain. April stood at the penthouse window, her reflection ghostlike in the glass, the city glittering behind her. The room was covered in silence save for the occasional keyboard click from Warren.
She spun around. "What follows now?"
Warren raised his eyes from his computer. “Damage is under control for now. There were no leaks from your Lorraine encounter. That aids a little bit.
He shut his laptop and leaned back . “The gallery withdrew from your solo exhibit.”
April's breathing stopped. “Which one?”
The owner claimed she did not wish for 'conflict mingling with culture.'
April slumped into the couch, her heart racing.
"My work is totally unrelated to this circus," she stated.
They don't view you as an artist anymore. They see you as me.
Her voice broke. "I worked for that show for one year. Every brushstroke, every piece—I gave myself into it.
Warren crossed the chamber and knelt before her. "We will correct it."
You cannot remedy this with cash.”
"Then I shall use my name. Other curators will be contacted.
"I don't desire charity."
“It's not charity. It's leverage. She turned toward him. "And what do you want in exchange?"
His tone fell. "Nothing you're not already providing."
The atmosphere changed.
There was something unspoken between them, known, dangerous.
April stood up and moved away from the fireplace, seeking room. "When it is silent, you say all the right things." In the noise, however, you disappear.
He trailed. Because I have come to see that silence is safer.
"But it also feels lonely."
“I forgot what company feels like since I have spent so long with loneliness.”
She confronted him. "Remember with me then."
A break
Then he kissed her.
Not demonstrative. Not rehearsed. Simply lips approaching lips in hesitant, fiery heat.
His hands wavering, hers folded in his shirt, it was clumsy and sluggish. Vulnerability and guarded hunger collide. Still, it was true.
April stepped back, panting hard, as they parted. "This was not in the agreement."
Warren made no immediate replies. Next: “Neither was you.”
- The news cycle started to change early the next morning.
A fresh celebrity scandal exploded. A senator was discovered in a bribery operation. April's name wasn't the main news for days for the first time.
Still, the art community did not forget so fast.
It was like entering a war zone when she walked into her studio that afternoon.
Her phone buzzed.
KENZIE: Sighted the gallery announcement. I am enraged. Need assistance removing the area?
She did not say anything back.
Another message came up.
KENZIE: Also, we have to converse. Regarding you. And him too.
She sighed.
There were still so many loose ends.
She picked up a canvas—half-finished, frayed at the edges—and stared at it. Then dipped her brush into deep crimson and began to paint.
- Writer
