Chapter 01

[3^rd Person’s POV]

Katalina stared at the termination contract in her email. Her supervisor implied to fire her because her output as a writer isn’t clicking anymore.

You told me writing was your passion. How come you keep on creating trash after trash?!

Those were the words that echoed inside her head. A single tear fell from her eyes. No one understood her hardship. Or even appreciate her effort.

She sighed and looked around. Katalina felt useless. Her forté long ago doesn’t align with journalism. But still, in the same field of writing information.

Her coworkers were so busy creating exposé, articles after articles, and here she was, as her editor would say, concocting rubbish and futile articles.

Katalina dragged her feet to the restroom. She locked herself to one of the cubicles. Latching her palms to her mouth, she cried without any sound. Her shoulders shuddered and her knees were shaking.

Everyone has their own different level of sensitivity. But this one shook her to the core. Writing was her passion—her life. Under a lot of pressure, stress and exhaustion, Katalina was suffering a mental breakdown.

Her eyes would have been like a panda's if she wore eyeliner and mascara. Luckily, she didn’t.

She wiped her tears. With her head down low, Katalina went back to her space. Biting her lower lip to avert the sadness and disappointment she felt.

Katalina snapped from her thoughts. A hand patted her shoulder. With a weary smile, she greeted her editor. “G’morning, Sir,” she closed her laptop.

Jerry, her new editor sat next to her. He heaved a sigh. “How long have you been writing again?” he fixed his reading eyeglasses.

She was like a nervous rabbit, looking at him with red eyes. “Five years, Sir—well, it should be fifteen, but I got suspended for ten years,” she joked about her tragic career crisis.

Jerry scratched his temples. “A small price for your life and your brain.”

A forced smile was her response.

“I came to tell you that you are not leaving this company… yet” he informed.

Katalina gasped in disbelief. “R-Really, Sir?”

“Yes. And I have a crucial job for you. This will determine if you’re worthy to stay,” Jerry looked her in the eyes.

She fell silent.

Jerry leaned closer to her. “You’re lucky I convinced our supervisor not to kick you out of this company,” he said.

Tears welled in her eyes, lips quivering in emotion.

“I read your previous work, Katalina. It was fascinating… but,” he sighed. “This is your now. I know you’re doing your best, but I’m sorry. It’s not enough,” Jerry shrugged his shoulders.

Katalina watched her editor handing him a white envelope. She was about to take it. But Jerry took it back.

“This is your first exposé. Do you think you can do it?” doubt is audible in his tone.

Katalina swallowed a lump in her throat. Even her, she’s doubting her own capability as a writer.  

 “If you’re thinking twice then I’m wasting my time here—”

“I’ll do it!” she answered in desperation. Katalina grabbed the envelope from her editor’s hand. Her heart pounded fast. “I-I can do it,” she said carefully.

Little did she know that the destruction of herself and her career will begin, the moment she accepted the exposé.

Meanwhile…

Hunter clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Again?”

The driver anticipated his boss’ reaction. He nodded. “These reporters won’t stop making headlines about you, Sir.”

He felt honored and pissed at the same time too. Hunter chuckled. “What else would they want from me? There are celebrities who deserve much attention. And I don’t want to have one.”

The driver honked the car. His boss was fifteen minutes late for work. The gate of his mansion was swamped with reporters, journalists and admirers.

“I hate them for stalking me,” Hunter said truthfully. He couldn’t move freely even on his own premises. Cameras, flashes, and reporters are everywhere. Either public or private.

He believed that he was cursed. And wanted to get rid of the attention he gets and being famous. “I want my normal life back,” he shook his head. Shuts his eyes and hoped that the reports and press would disappear.

The driver noticed how tedious his boss was because of the daily struggle. The people surrounding Hunter’s car outnumbered his bodyguards.

Hunter scratched the back of his head. And opened the car’s door. He descended. The crowd goes wild. He was almost blinded because of the camera flash. And his eardrums almost burst in the unison of voices asking him endless questions.

“Please!” he raised his tone. The people went quiet. He inhaled deeply. “Guys, I respect your job. And you should respect mine also.”

“I’m fifteen— wait,” he looked at his watch. “Eighteen minutes late in my office. And I have pending meetings and contracts to read and sign. Please, give me some privacy even just for a bit.”

Hunter felt that his speech was effective. His bodyguards pushed most of the reporters away from Hunter’s car.

The reporters and all branches of media looked at each other. Hunter’s speech was futile for them. They resumed bombarding him with questions.

He cursed inside his head and went back to his car. If it wasn’t for his bodyguards acting fast, Hunter wouldn’t be able to arrive at his workplace.

“They are drawn into you, boss,” the driver broke the silence.

Hunter scratched his forehead. “They’re annoying,” they both chuckled. “I gave press releases here and there but they all interfere with my private life. Even created a fake article linking me to different celebrities and heiresses. Like how did they know? I mean, you all know that after work, I went straight home.”

The driver nodded his head. “Fake news, Sir. Fake news.”

“Exactly. They should stop fabricating awful stories,” Hunter said. He doesn’t want to destroy his image in public.

He controls himself from exploding in front of the cameras and the paparazzi.

It won’t just ruin his reputation but also the image of his companies.

His career just started booming.