THE END IS NEAR

The familiar chaos of the newsroom surrounded Alex as she sat at her desk.

 As she researched her story, her computer screen glowed in front of her, a jumble of open windows and tabs. A stack of papers and notes to her left teetered dangerously, looking like it might collapse at any second. Her empty coffee cup was next to a rumpled draft of her piece.

Alex's messy desk stood in sharp contrast to Tori's well-organised desk across from her. 

The editor's brow was furrowed in concentration as she stared intently at her own screen.

The newsroom was bustling with activity, with fluorescent lights resembling a swarm of bees buzzing overhead. Tension was in the air, as evident as the smell of stale coffee that persisted near the machine. 

Reporters' fingers danced over their keyboards, accompanied by the staccato beat of phones and the muffled whimpers of stress brought on by deadlines. 

Alex Thompson was hunched over her computer screen, her chest tightening from the strain of her work amid this disorganised symphony. 

Her mind racing with the pursuit of the truth, she concentrated on her story, the noise of the newsroom fading into the background.

 She rubbed her tired eyes as the words on her screen became hazy, fearing that the long hours and restless nights would finally get to her. 

One more piece of fluff. One more sighting of a celebrity. Another tale added to the ever-expanding cemetery of lost tales strewn across the internet. Nope. Alex wanted something more this time. Her eyes strayed to the large calendar that was hanging in the other room—a sobering reminder that their next issue was due on the deadline. Tomorrow's date was surrounded by a meagre red circle, taunting her with its urgency.

~~~~~~

 ALEX THOMPSON POV

"Alex, you can do this! Come on!"

 With a hint of doubt mixed in with encouragement, Tori spoke. 

"That blank stare is not going to win you a Pulitzer."

I glanced at her slantwise, my thoughts still racing. 

With my fingers poised over the keyboard, I whispered to myself, "I have got it, I have got it."

Thompson, what is the hold-up? With her gaze glued to my screen, she inquired. 

"It is getting late, and I do not see a rough draft there."

After inhaling deeply, I started typing and the words eventually started to appear on the page.

 "Ma, just give me a moment. I am working on it." 

"Thompson, are you having trouble finding inspiration?" 

Her piercing voice broke through the newsroom cacophony, causing my fingers to fumble with the keyboard.

I turned to face the editor-in-chief, whose fitted power suit gave me an intimidating presence. 

Years of chasing down scoops had given her a sense of commanding control that was evident in her sharp bob and piercing gaze. Her very presence seemed to personify the relentless chase of publicity, and as our gaze locked, I experienced that old-fashioned wave of intimidation. 

"Alex, I must witness your advancement" 

She commanded, her voice unyielding.

"Actually, I had an idea," 

Sitting up straight in my chair and forcing a smile. 

However, it requires some adjusting.

With a frown, Tori crossed her arms over the pile of papers she was holding.

 "Alex, this is not a blog about lifestyle. We require a narrative with bite, something that people will genuinely want to read, something that will sell papers and get clicks."

I was familiar with the procedure. 

"Tori loved a good controversy; she was especially good at pushing the envelope and creating a stir."

But lately, I could not get that kind of journalism out of my mouth. 

I was desperate for something more substantial, something that would speak to people more deeply.

"I understand," I said. 

But suppose we could accomplish both? Create a stir and present a compelling narrative?"

For a brief moment, Tori's piercing grey eyes held my attention, as a silent argument simmered beneath us. 

At last, she let out a sigh with a note of resignation in her tone. 

"All right, Thompson, spit it out. Do not waste my time, though."

"ETHAN RYDER," I declared, my voice gaining confidence. 

"The city's most eligible bachelor."

Tori's eyes narrowed. 

"The reclusive billionaire? You think there's a story there?"

"More than you think,"

 I replied, a spark of defiance igniting within my eyes. 

"He throws these extravagant parties, donates millions to charity, but his past? Shrouded in mystery. 

No scandals, no controversies, just this image of a perfect, philanthropic playboy."

A slow smile spread across Tori's face, a predator eyeing its prey. 

"Intriguing. Could there be a hidden skeleton in the closet? An expose ripe for the picking?"

I hesitated. 

The truth was, I wasn't sure. But the possibility of a deeper story, of uncovering something beyond the glittering facade, was far more appealing than churning out another celebrity gossip piece. 

"Maybe," I admitted, a determined glint in my eyes. 

"But even if there isn't, there's definitely a story to be told. 

A story of a man who built an empire, who gives back to the community, maybe."

I continued, my voice gaining conviction, 

"we could challenge the public's perception, find the man behind the myth." 

Tori considered this for a moment, tapping her perfectly manicured nails against the desk. 

"An interesting proposition, Thompson. But remember, if it's fluff, you're toast."

"It won't be fluff," I declared, my voice ringing with newfound certainty. 

"This could be big, boss. Bigger than anything we've done."

A slow smile played on Tori's lips. "Intriguing. Alright, Thompson. You've bought yourself 24 hours. 

Show me what you can dig up on Mr. Ryder. 

But remember, she warned, her voice hardening, 

"if you come back empty-handed, it's back to the celebrity dog beat for you."

"Deal," I grinned, gathering my notes and files. 

I wouldn't disappoint. 

Ethan Ryder would be my story, and I was determined to find the truth, whatever it might be. 

The clatter of keyboards around me faded into the background as I dove headfirst into research. 

My fingers danced across the search bar, pulling up news articles, financial records, and even social media threads, all desperately searching for a chink in Ethan Ryder's polished armor. 

But the deeper I delved, the less I found. 

His business ventures, SkyTech Industries, was a titan in the tech sector, lauded for its innovative products