Why does writing seem somehow harder than beating Nazi Germany? That's what John Keeney, a young aspiring journalist, asked himself all the time. The fun part is that it shouldn't be so hard if you consider the lineage of his family, which owns one of the largest television networks in the country. His destiny was set from childhood to write newspaper stories on a wide variety of subjects. John, in his humble wisdom, had no qualms about what to write, but at times, he felt like he was going to explode into a million pieces in front of his computer - somebody call the bomb squad.
- Oh, shit. - he said. - I always have problems with opening texts!
- Maybe if you thought about the middle, you wouldn't make such a big deal about the beginning. - said his mother. Britt.
Britt Anne Keeney. Housewife, former reporter, and John's mom. An extremely attractive and very, very elegant woman. She met John's father at the TV station itself. Rumor has it that Matt slept with her on his first day at the office. But, as always, these are just gossip.
- Tomorrow I'm starting my job at the station and I got bollocks.
- You don't need anything, darling. Matt Keeney is simply the owner of the whole shit.
- Thanks for making me feel special, Mom.
- Write about something you like.
Great. Who wants to read about video games and their relationship to the economy?
- Mom, people don't read anything anymore that doesn't have an interesting headline. If the first few lines are lame, you are fucked. Nobody will read it. It's like... - John paused for a few seconds. - Titanic.
- Titanic? - Britt didn't understand.
- Yes, everyone knows that the ship is going to hit the iceberg and sink. But James Cameron had to figure out an interesting beginning to keep the viewer hooked until the climax.
And topless Kate Winslet.
- All I want to say is that your father will support you.
- Of course, he is my father. What choice does he have? Not support me?
Okay, John took a heavy landing, but there were a lot of expectations in being the son of Matt Keeney, one of the top journalists in the country. On his resumé, he has covered most global events. He was in Germany when the wall came down and the Volkswagen scandal. He covered the collapse of the Twin Towers in New York, the incredible comeback of the Patriots in Super Bowl 51, and the election of Obama and Donald Trump. All in all, a living legend, as well as controversial. Many disliked the figure of Keeney. Rumor has it that he is and always has been a complicated person to deal with. A Texan from the cowboy movies. Tough guy. Hated to be contradicted. But for John, Matt was just an absent father. Their relationship comes from many ups and downs - more downs.
- Tomorrow is a big day, son. - Britt said. - But try not to think about it too much.
- I'm really not. - John smiled.
- Are you going to talk to Katherine?
John was silent.
- No. I don't think so.
- You need to talk to her.
Katherine Morgan. John's high school sweetheart. Just like his father, their relationship was also one of ups and downs - more downs again. John no longer felt the fire that had fueled their relationship, but the fact that the Keeney and Morgan families were so close did not allow John to feel at ease about the split. Quite the opposite. Still, even against his will, marriage would be a matter of time. In theory.
Before falling asleep, John picked up his cell phone one last time. He took a look at the evening's sports scores and checked the game schedules for the next day. And most importantly, he checked his betting site to find some gold mines. And he did. It never fails.
- Fuck yeah. - he said, smiling mischievously.
The following day, John was up early to go to the gym. It was not his usual custom, but they say there is an exception for - almost - everything. To confirm the rule, he got a reasonably new outfit and walked to the mall, where his academy had been for years. But you could say that the day did not start very well and his body did not react as expected after an abrupt change of habits.
- Holy shit. - he said, on the floor. - I hate exercising.
Lying on the cold floor, exhausted and bored, an attractive female figure almost stepped on his face in pink running shoes with dark soles. This figure had long straight hair, light eyes, snow-white skin, and a thin, singular nose. Maybe it was the fact that John was upside down, but that human figure was as close as I could imagine to an angelic figure. I mean, that's what he assumed upside down before his brain even ran out of blood.
- Oh, sorry. - She said. - I didn't see you. I almost stepped on your neck by accident.
In legal circles could it be considered negligent homicide?
- That's okay. - John replied.
Before she went to who knows where, John stood up faster than an F-35 could take off and followed her.
- Hold on. - he said, smiling. - I've never seen you here before.
- Oh, I just signed up.
John smiled.
- First class?
- Yes, it is.
- John. - He held out his hand and smiled again.
- Bia. - She repeated the gesture.
- If you want help, just give me a call. You know how it is. It must be very hard to be the new girl at the academy.
You foxy.
Several hours after the encounter, John finished the exhausting and unbearable sequence of exercises. Chest, biceps, triceps, shoulders. Oh, almost forgetting... The ergometric treadmill. He was soon on his way. But then he found Bia going to the bathroom again. Who knows, maybe lightning will strike twice? He just needed a perfect plan to get her attention. Nothing too elaborate. Hans Gruber just wanted money in Die Hard. And what did he do? He simply broke into the building and took everyone as hostage, including the owner of the company. And he almost succeeded. What could John learn from Die Hard besides always carrying a pistol? Simplicity and intelligence.
As soon as he saw her again with a pink backpack on her shoulders, John met Bia again. He smiled amiably and asked her if it was time for her to leave. As it seemed, yes.
- Oh, wait - Bia tugged at his arm before he passed through the exit door. - You forgot your drink!
John smiled.
- Oh, that's right! I didn't even notice.
Half true. Wisely, he left the bottle near Bia to .... Develop a theory. And apparently...
- Are you doing anything later? - he asked, naughtily.
- I already have an appointment later. - Bia answered.
- Oh!
As Hall of Famer Wayne "The Great One" Gretzky said: you miss 100 of the shots you don't take.
The next day John was up early again. This time, for a special occasion. The day that could change his life for good, or maybe not. Nevertheless, John picked up his newest blouse and his best pants. He brushed his hair to the side and ran a little gel through it to fix it firmly in place. If first impressions are what you make, John would do his best to confirm the rule.
- Good luck, darling! - said his mother.
- Thank you. - John replied with a shy smile.
A black Hyundai from the broadcasting company stopped in front of the Keeney family's condominium. A man opened the back door and smiled at John, who smiled in response. Britt waved as the vehicle passed through the gates separating the buildings from the outside world. During the drive, John remained silent on his cell phone.
- Are you excited? - asked the driver.
- Pardon? - John didn't understand.
- Are you excited? It's your first day.
Oops. First red flag of the day.
- How did you know that?
- Your father is very excited to have you. He told everyone at the station.
- Holy shit. - John whined. - Is he there?
- Of course he is! Who do you think sent me here to get you?
The day was destined to be a disaster. At least that's what John thought. But not everything seemed doomed. Until that moment.
A few minutes after a long traffic jam, John arrived at the headquarters of the broadcasting station, the largest in the country. He couldn't remember how big the place really was. He had no memory of the last time he was there. He would probably have to go back many years in the past, to a time when nothing was permanent. Everything looked different, but in a funny way. Second red flag.
- It's much bigger than I remember. - he said.
- You're going to like it here. - said the driver. - I've been working with Mr. Keeney for at least fifteen years.
- Fifteen years? - John was startled. - And you've never wanted to point a gun to your head? Not once?
It was horrible. John felt like an ox in a slaughterhouse.
As soon as the automatic glass door opened, John looked like a celebrity or WWE wrestlers before entering the arena. All the receptionists were dying to know a little more about the son of the greatest journalist of all time, at least in their eyes. Third red flag.
- Are you going to be a journalist like your father? You have his nose and eyes. Will you present the night news? How old are you? Have you finished college? When will we see you on TV? Would you like to meet my niece?
Yeah, just a little of what our main character had to hear at that moment. John didn't want any attention, but it's not as if he had a choice. And it didn't stop there.
- Son. - Said Mr. Keeney. Or Matt for the folks at home.
- Hi Dad. - Said John.
- How's your mom?
- She's fine.
- Have you met the guys?
- Yes, I have.
- Good, good. That's terrific.
Matt turned away from his son and simply disappeared. A practice very much in his nature. It wouldn't be the first time. But John wouldn't have much time to flute, as the first meeting of the broadcasting company would take place within the hour in Room XV, for whatever reason it was called that. But he wished the name of the room was the only surprise of the day.
John was the first to come in. In the center of the room was an oval table with several chairs, like those used in the White House movies. John sat down on one of the chairs and waited for the room to fill up with people. And it didn't take long. Most of them were people of John's age. With a few notable exceptions. One of these was a beautiful, elegant, blond woman in business clothes and high-heeled shoes. In a funny way, she reminded him of his mother when he was younger. But at the same time...
- Oh, fuck!
The last person to sit at the table was a female figure that John recognized, which left him surprised and curious, but also intrigued.
- You've got to be shitting me.
Bia stared at him, also surprised. It seemed too good to be true. She smiled ironically and to annoy him sat down right next to him.
- John? John Keeney? - Bia asked. - Are you the son of the station's owner?
- Could we not touch the subject?
A reasonable request. But unfortunately...
- Sorry, can't help you. - she said. - Why didn't you tell me at the gym?
- Why? Would it make a difference? How was I supposed to know that a girl I wanted to ask out coincidentally works at the same job as me!
- Technically, I work for you.
- I told you not to bring it up.
- And I said I wouldn't listen.
A tie. But for how long?
- Good morning, children. - A male figure entered the room through the door; bald and huge blue eyes, a being similar to the aliens in the movie Knowing. - How are you?
Bia and John looked at each other, puzzled.
- My name is Kevin. You are now part of the editorial staff of the most important and influential broadcaster in the country, yada, yada, yada. You will inform people and come up with interesting content. You have until the end of the week. Thank you for your attention.
Kevin didn't even sit down to make his speech. When he finished, he turned his back, headed for the door and left. This could be the fourth red flag of the day. And as it turned out, it was indeed.
- What the hell was that? - Bia asked.
- An indication that we are screwed. - John replied.
- Just kidding, guys. - Kevin returned. - But not that much. I mean it. Form duos, threesomes, orgies, not my business. Think of original content. I give you five days.
Five days?
- Holy shit! - John moaned.
But complaining is useless. There was no other option. John went on the security play and wanted to know Bia's availability to form a duo with him.
- Sure, if you know how to play your cards right. - She smiled.
Okay, at that moment she just wanted to mess with his head. Still, it could be worse.
Two days later and the John-Bia duo has made progress... No progress at all. In fact, they didn't even meet to discuss the homework assignment, which could be a problem. It didn't help that John was unconcerned and soon Bia would be very frustrated with John's carelessness. However, destiny willed that they should meet again. In a place famous for meetings and mismatches. For leisure and revelry. Initially, John sat down on one of the many stools near the bar, with a glass bottle in his hand and a cell phone. Coincidence or not, Bia sat down again right next to him, smiling evilly when she saw him after a while - two days.
- Oh, shit. - John's eyes widened. - How did you find me?
- John Michael Keeney distributes food to the poor and, in his spare time, comes to the bar after a long day. - Bia teased him.
Whoa. Only his mother called him by his full name.
- How do you know my middle name?
- I can Google it, John. It's not that hard.
- Do you know my father's middle name?
- Yes, I do. It's Leslie.
John was surprised.
- No, it isn't!
- I know it's not, dummy! It's Douglas.
Damn, she's hot.
- Damn, you got that right.
But they still needed to discuss the elephant in the room.
- What about work? - Bia asked.
- How did you find me here? - John was going to ask first, but coincidentally they both asked two different questions at the same time.
- I wasn't looking for you! Man, you are so full of yourself!
- What's the matter, Bia?
- What is the matter, Bia? I'll tell you what's the matter. We only have a few more days to present the paper. And what do we have?
- Not a goddamn thing.
- That's right. Not a damn thing! And because? Because John Michael Keeney isn't fucking stirring! Oh, look at me, I'm John. - Bia started doing a crude imitation of him. - My father owns the broadcasting company, so I don't have to make any effort!
In a sense, Bia was right. What could John say?
- That's okay, My bad.
- I'm sorry for being a fool.
- That I don't forgive. You're funny when you're silly. - John smiled.
- Moron. - Bia replied, but smiled too.
While they were still in the middle of a chat, the bar TV stuck on the wall above the drinks was broadcasting a news report by a famous person, but with the noise of the live music and the parallel conversations it was hard to hear the audio from the TV.
- Who is it? - John pointed at the screen.
- It sounds like Tina Turner.
- No way! Really? Proud Mary?
- Yes, yes. And "It's Gonna Work Out Fine", "I Idolize You", "Nutbush City Limits", "The Best", "We Don't Need Another Hero" ... The list is quite long.
- Isn't "We Don't Need Another Hero" from Mad Max?
- Yes, it is.
- Wow, she looks so different. How old must she be? 70?
- 80.
- Damn! Time has passed so fast! I wonder what the hell happened to her.
- She moved to Switzerland. And became a naturalized citizen.
- Why?
- Why? Are you asking me?
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Bia stared at John for a few seconds. And smiled. That must have been the universal sign that everything was going to settle down naturally. The moment when a light bulb pops out of your head. Metaphorically, of course. But John couldn't understand the reason for the smiles.
- What?
- What if we thought of something like that? For our work.
- What are you talking about?
- We write about things that are gone, that don't exist anymore or that have changed drastically. I think a lot of people would like to read it if we choose nice topics.
- You lost me.
- For example. A lot of people don't know what happened to Tina Turner. Hell, probably many people don't even remember her anymore, even though we are talking about one of the most successful singers on the planet. The queen of rock!
- Do you think people would be interested?
- I'm sure.
John smiled. Bia knew what she was saying.
- All right, then. That's a very good idea.
- But what would the name be? It has to be something catchy and something that will create interest in the reader. How about "Lost and Found"?
John made a funny face.
- Shall we write it on a cardboard box?
- Silly. It wasn't such a bad idea.
- Oh, I disagree.
While they were thinking about the better name, or the least bad options, the owner of the bar, a huge man with a social shirt tucked into his pants, raised his arms and yelled at one of his employees who smelled like cigarettes.
- What the hell happened to you, you son of a bitch! What is this half-hour break that I don't know about?
- I'm sorry, sir. - said the employee. - It won't happen again.
- All right, all right. But it's not the first time! You are abusing me good will!
Bia stared at John one more time. And once again, he didn't understand. In other words, Bia had to explain it in words. Again.
- What do you think about "What the hell happened with..." and then we finish with the research topic.
John stood up and began to think on his own. In fact, he only bought himself a little time, because he saw another familiar figure in the bar. Blonde, tall, pretty, light-eyed, and... Apparently single. And not only that. She also works for Matt Keeney.
- What the hell happened with... Tina Turner? - Bia asked.
- What then? - John wasn't paying attention.
- The name of the work.
- Oh, yes. Excellent. Very good.
- It's a very good title.
But there was one more thing missing.
- What were you looking at? - Bia asked.
- Me? Looking? Who's looking?
- You, idiot. I was looking over there.
Then, Bia spotted the person who had taken over John's thoughts. It was not too difficult to distinguish her from the other people. After all, John was still an idiot.
- You've got to be kidding me. - Bia couldn't believe it. - Is it serious?
- Is it serious? Don't I have the right to be happy?
- Are you shooting all over the place?
- Of course not! I am very selective.
- Of course you are! - Bia didn't believe it. - Blondes, redheads, pretty, and with a size G bra. How original!
- Hey, this is not a contest.
Oh, John felt like a ship passing through turbulent waters filled with crocodiles.
- Just try not to do anything stupid that will compromise our work.
- No, I won't do anything stupid.
That's what he said.
- Hi - John approached the mysterious woman.
- Hello.
- I've seen you before. At the TV station.
- Yeah. We work together.
- That is so funny!
No, it wasn't funny. Just ask her her name and buy her a beer!
- Can I buy you a beer? - John asked.
- Sure.
- What's your name?
- Luana.
- Pretty name.
- Thank you. And you are John Keeney.
There was no denying it.
- I think I should write a book. - John smiled.
- Your father is very influential.
- I don't have a smart answer.
- That's not a bad thing. I like influence.
Whatever that was supposed to mean. In a few words, Luana demonstrated that she knew very well how to break John's legs - metaphorically, obviously. And it wasn't very hard to win him over. Two drinks and a few jokes later, Luana could ask John to steal 200 million dollars and she would probably have the money in less than 10 minutes.
- How was it, Romeo? - asked Bia, after John returned to the bar.
- Blow away. - he said.
Two days later, John and Bia submitted their idea to Kevin. Or rather, they thought they were going to. Bia made a very nice Power Point to better explain in words and pictures the thoughts they had in the bar. Kevin listened to the beginning, but afterwards, he gave up, for one reason only.
- You are already in. - Kevin announced. - You don't even have to introduce anything.
- Why? - Bia asked.
- Deny an idea from the son of the network owner? I'm crazy, but even my insanity has a limit.
- So, are we going to have a column?
- Positive. - Kevin shook his head - Good job.
No matter the circumstances or the obscure reasons for Kevin's decision, this was good news. And good news should be celebrated. Bia smiled and hugged John to express her happiness.
- Now we just have to think about the first topic. - she said.
- What's the hurry? - John asked, mischievously. - We have all the time we need.
The rest of the day was very uninteresting. Nothing relevant to the story happened, except for one particular moment. At the end of another group meeting, Bia and John returned to the bar. Halfway there, John began to think about a curious detail. Bia had a strange policy of not commenting on personal matters in the work environment. Which, at that moment, could be a problem, even more so considering the fact that being a Keeney definitely takes you places - yes, a reference to Toyota's slogan.
- Ah, how was it with Luana? - Bia asked.
Whoa, a dangerous question.
- Why do you want to know? - John returned.
- Oh, nothing. It's just that you didn't mention her.
- I'm taking it slow.
- Slowly?
- She's mysterious. I didn't want to go into too much detail about her personal life.
- But she had no problem sticking her tongue in your mouth.
Oh, dear.
- Oh, holy shit, Bia. Did you see it?
- It was like being in a scary version of Gone with the Wind.
- And what did you think?
- Frankly my dear I don't give a damn.
- Good for you. - John sneered.
Conversation back and forth, John noticed a jukebox leaning against the wall, abandoned, apparently.
- Does it work? - John asked.
The bartender answered with a positive sign. Then John took a coin from his wallet and put it in the small hole to turn the machine on. He already had a singer in his head. And, fortunately, his partner recognized the first verses. Which is a good sign.
- Phil Collins? - Bia asked.
- Phil Collins saved the music. - John justified. - And Genesis is much better when he takes over the vocals.
- Why?
- Why? - John felt offended. - Who wants to listen to a half-hour song with three verses? Completely mental people!
- My fiancé liked Phil Collins.
A simple piece of information. But what came next had the potential to cause World War III.
- I love Phil Collins too. - John started. - I learned to play drums because of him. I started when I was eight years old. My dad encouraged me.... When he was still married to my mother.
- He is such an underrated musician.
Wait a minute.
- Funny, that's what my uncle says. - But then John realized. - Wait, how do you know that?
Bia soon realized that there was no escape. All that was left for her to do was to wait for John to join the dots and endure what might come next.
- No way! - John was stunned. - Get out of the galaxy!
- I know what you're thinking, John.
- Oh, you don't! I don't believe it! You and my father? Fucking hell!
- I know it sounds crazy. But he's really good to me.
- I can only imagine.
Bia didn't like the irony.
- Very funny. It's not what you think.
- That's fine. Whatever. - John didn't want to prolong the subject. - I really don't want to know.
Okay, John wasn't being truthful. But so what? Ignorance is a blessing.
- And who are you to say anything? - Bia didn't shut down the discussion.
- What are you talking about?
- Luana is married.
John was astonished. Again.
- What?
- You heard me.
- Get out! She's not married. I didn't see any ring on her fingers when I met her.
- And what does that mean?
This question almost broke John's legs. Still...
- I don't know.
- But I do know! And you wanna hear some more? She's married to one of the station's directors.
Uh-oh. It just gets better.
- You're bluffing! - John just said.
- Hello, John? - Bia moved closer to him to increase the level of tension and drama. - Am I really?
- John, Bia, where in the name of Brady's have you been? - Kevin was annoyed by the predictable behavior of both.
- We were kinda... - John began to explain himself.
- Nah, I don't wanna know. - Kevin interrupted him. - Listen, I need a paper. A very good one. I'll give you a week. Is that okay?
No, of course not.
- Of course yes! - John lied.
- Good. Next week I want an inspiration.
And that was it. With nowhere to run and no time to think of a very intelligent answer, all that remains is the universal phrase used by all people who find themselves in a complicated situation.
- We are absolutely and completely fucked.
But before that, there was still one more issue to settle. Yes, yes, Bia and John got the column and would later have a topic, but the first chapter does not end there. After all, John needed to confirm the story that Luana was really married. So he invited her to a nice restaurant downtown. To get to the final destination, he rented the most expensive SUV from the car rental company. Desperate times, desperate measures. But this did not shake John, who punctually dropped by Luana's house at seven in the evening to take her to the restaurant. The valet guy at the restaurant stepped on the gas and made a fine noise of rubber brushing against the asphalt, which worried John at first; after all, crashing a rental car is worse than tax evasion, even more so if you are not driving the vehicle.
- If a tree falls in a forest and there is no one to hear it, does it make noise? - Luana wanted to test her intelligence.
- Of course it does. If a house catches fire and nobody is there to see it, will it stop burning? If I fart and nobody hears, the room will still stink to high heaven!
A fart joke on a date. Very fifth grade. Congratulations, John.
- John, I need to tell you something.
Uh-oh. Never in the history of mankind has anything good ever appeared after the phrase "I need to tell you something" or its cousin "we need to talk". Hardly ever has Carl Benz created the automobile after his fiancée said the phrase "love, we need to talk".
- I'm being transferred to Europe.
Oh.
- Really?
- Yeah. Latvia.
John was confused.
- Is that in Europe?
- Of course it's in Europe!
- Is there Ikea in this place?
- Why such a question?
- If the country says it's in Europe, but there's no Ikea, then it's not Europe.
- I don't want to argue with your logic, but I'm warning you beforehand so that it doesn't look like I've suddenly left.
- And when are you leaving?
- Tomorrow morning.
- Oh, what made me think it was so sudden? - John was clearly ironic.
- I'm sorry. You're a nice kid.
- That's all right. - John made light of it. - I didn't intend to be in a long-term relationship anyway. I don't think I've ever been in a long-term relationship.
- Too bad for them. - Luana smiled.
- And besides, at least we won't be in trouble.
- Why do you say that?
- Luana, come on. I know!
- Know what?
- I know you're married.
- How do you know?
Hey, revealing that information could bring him unwanted problems. Well, in that case, lie.
- My father told me.
- Oh. - Luana understood and it made good sense. In theory. - Tell him I'll miss the advice and the breaks between the shows.
A word to the wise is enough.
By the end of dinner, the SUV's electronic clock was already past eleven. The lights on the dashboard created a contrast with the darkness of some poorly lit streets. Traffic no longer seemed so congested in that part of the city, practically a ghost town except on Fridays and weekends. Despite everything, John enjoyed the evening and the moment alone with... Let's call it his friend. But Luana sort of saved a few more surprises for the finale. And she wanted to reveal them at the appropriate moment.
- Ah, drop me off at the Wynn. - she said.
- The Wynn? - John didn't understand. - Are you going to spend your last day by yourself in a luxury hotel?
- I'll only be by myself if you don't want to spend the night with me.
Now that's an invitation. At first, John thought about the obvious risks of going out with a married woman and the consequences his actions could may bring for the future. He was no longer a child. And not just that. Bia relied on him for the job; they had an indirect loyalty commitment. His reason told him to think with his head. But on the other hand...
- Oh. Ah, fuck it. - He said, smiling mischievously, as he drove the SUV onto the dark beach, but lit by the neon lights of the hotels.