The Journalist's Suspicion

Chapter Four

He sat there. His legs crossed, atop the white desk in his cubical. With white earbuds attached to his phone, Landon is bopping his head with eyes closed. With a mean demeanor and an anger in my heart, I grip the wires and tear them from his ears. Immediately, Landon jerks up. "Hey, what the heck?" He exclaims before looking beside him at me. His stare results in a cowering fear as he kicks his feet off the desk, sitting up straight. "H-hey, Kam. Feeling better?" He nervously chuckles. Without hesitation everything comes out at once.

"What do you think? Because the last time I checked, federal law requires you to have consent by at least one party to interview an in-person, telephone, or electronic questionnaire. You have gone against code of conduct and have lost my trust. We were partners and you ruined that. Having our private conversation aired for the entire city to listen to whilst spreading false answer I gave and the fact that you have gone against every word about the vigilantes I have made, makes you a fraud. I can and will get you fired for even thinking you could get away with this."

He sighs, dropping his facial expressions. "Look, you would never admit in an interview that these vigilantes are here to help, so I had to do it for you. With this assassin around, we have to spread the word." He tries to explain himself. "So, spread the word about Deathstroke, not have my personal trauma regarding the event that happened with him, shared. The vigilantes saved me. That is it.The moment you put hope into them, the minute they will turn their back on us. Where as the Gotham Police, it's their job to protect, so look to them. Not some false heroes." 

"They were right." He states under his breath. "Who was right?" I interrogate. "The other reporters. They all said you were the coldest. No wonder you never have a partner that stays long." I scoff. "They say that about me?" The insult I took deeply. Was that all I seemed to be? "Yeah. You don't have partner skills nor the regard for their safety. It's all ever about you and your story." He explains.

"Hey, what's the commotion all about?" Great, the other person I was eager to question, Maddox. "Nothing, sir." Landon tries to drop it. "It is anything but nothing. Sir, Landon went against code in his live last night. Our private call between him and I only, never once did I give consent to have the information regarding the call to be leak nor to have my position be taken over." Maddox then sighs. Instead of lecturing Landon, he turns to me. "Kameron, you have been with this company since GN featured crime and etcetera, nearly six years ago. I have appreciated all your efforts as a small time script women to our number one reporter..." I felt a 'but' coming. 

"Unfortunately, that daring and thrill running attitude isn't what we need anymore. Most of the chaos in Gotham has been brought down to a minimum, we don't need to scare the inhabitants of this city. We don't need a hard go getter at this station. As far as your privacy being leaked, I do apologize. Landon will be let off with a warning, but will be taking over." My heart was about to shatter, "What are you saying?" My quiet tone as my voice begins to shake. "You are let go, Kameron. You have been replaced. I can direct you to another station, if-" I point my finger at him. Shaking my head viciously. 

"You are firing me just sorely off of me, wanting to get every detail there is to a story. Just based off that." I knew he felt bad but I hardly cared right about now. "Kameron, I'm sorry. There is just no use for you anymore. Quite frankly, with Batman gone, we need a more positive look on the vigilantes. You never gave us that." I scoff, "So, tell me that. Don't go replace me. I could've changed. But if this is what I get for trying... Trying be the best at what I do..." I slowly walk away to my office, arms open on either side of me. 

I find an old filing cardboard box under my desk in my office and begin to pack my belongings. Knocking on the glass windows that surround my office walls is Landon. He is looking down, fiddling with his thumbs. "Hey..." I ignore, dropping placks and pictures. Old scripts and other miscellaneous items in the boxes. "What do you want." Angered without looking to him. "I just wanted to personally say how sorry I am." Continuing to pack, he goes on, "I could get some food for you, maybe get you something to feel better." I sigh, dropping the stack of papers to the ground, making a slapping noise.