Shadows of Doubt: The Friday Phantom's Premier

The sound of tires crunching on gravel was a rare comfort in the eerie silence of the empty street. Ethan Blackwood's black hearse was parked outside the complex, its presence alone seeming to cast a shadow over the place. He stood at the rear of the vehicle, cigarette in hand, his gaze distant and unfocused. It was as though he were detached from the world around him, lost in his own thoughts. His demeanor was both intimidating and oddly lonely.

I approached from a distance, trying to catch his attention. "Ethan, you're early," I called out, hoping to break through the veil of solitude that seemed to envelop him. As soon as he saw me, his eyes brightened momentarily, and a rare smile broke across his face, revealing dimples that were almost charming. Damn, why did he have to be so good-looking?

"I didn't have much to do, so I thought I'd come by and check out our progress," Ethan replied, his voice steady and cool. Despite his usual reserve, there was a hint of warmth in his eyes. He wasn't exactly easy to approach, but once you got past his exterior, he was surprisingly accommodating.

I led him to my apartment, which was, to put it mildly, a mess. Ethan glanced around with a look of mild distaste before he set about tidying up. I felt a pang of embarrassment as I watched him clean up my cluttered space.

"I'm sorry about the mess," I said, feeling a bit awkward.

Ethan sighed as he worked. "I can't stand living in clutter. My upbringing in the funeral home instilled a need for order." He didn't seem annoyed, just resigned. "I have a bit of an obsessive-compulsive streak, if you haven't noticed."

I chuckled despite myself. "I guess I can't fault you for that. Just make yourself at home. Maybe you'll come by more often and clean up after me."

Ethan gave me a wry smile. "I'm not in it for the money. I'll pick up a tablet tomorrow to make things easier."

Once the place was presentable, we sat down with the computer to check the show's status. Zhao Xing had promised us a spot on the homepage for "The Friday Phantom," but as we refreshed the page, our anticipation quickly turned to disappointment. The promised promotion was nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, I called Zhao Xing, only to be told that the promotion had been pushed back, and the homepage was no longer an option. Instead, he suggested we look under the variety channel. After an extensive search, I found a tiny mention of our show in the bottom corner of the variety channel page—a single line of text. It was hardly the glowing feature we had hoped for.

Ethan, seeing my disappointment, tried to comfort me. "Don't be disheartened. It's just the beginning. Attention builds over time. Stay persistent, and I'm sure the viewership will grow."

I nodded, though my heart was heavy. The effort, the struggles, and the sacrifices seemed almost pointless when faced with such minimal exposure. It felt as though we were shouting into the void.

Ethan's words brought a flicker of hope. I took a deep breath and focused on the screen as the show finally began. The opening sequence was suitably chilling, with eerie music and dark visuals setting the tone. Despite the shaky start, I found myself intrigued.

The host, a new face to the public, appeared on screen. Though he looked a bit nervous, he managed to maintain a friendly demeanor. Ethan watched with an intensity that suggested he was more invested in the success of the show than I was.

As the program progressed, it became clear that the initial content was less than stellar. Zhao Xing's ghost stories fell flat, lacking the punch they needed to captivate an audience. I felt my spirits sinking further.

But then, as we delved into the story of the Xue Mansion, things started to pick up. The visuals were compelling, and the genuine fear in the footage made it more engaging. I saw flashes of the supernatural elements that had drawn me to this project in the first place.

Then came the commercial break—unbelievable, a ghost story show interrupted by an ad for a mundane product. The absurdity of it nearly made me laugh. The product's ad was amateurish and out of place, clashing horribly with the show's atmosphere.

Despite my disillusionment, the final segment of the show did bring some promise. The exploration of the Xue Mansion, combined with the raw, unembellished footage of ghostly encounters, had potential. The end credits displayed our contact information for viewer submissions.

After the show ended, I refreshed the page and saw a mere five views. Two of those were mine and Zhao Xing's, leaving only a couple of genuine viewers. The result was disheartening.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Sophia Lee. She was thrilled about the show, praising my segment and expressing her gratitude for the shout-out. Her enthusiasm was a small comfort, but it did little to alleviate my frustration.

Ethan, noticing my mood, offered a final piece of advice before he left. "You need to toughen up. The beginning is always rough. If you give up now, you'll never see the results of your efforts. Stick with it."

As he walked out, I was left alone with my thoughts. His words were harsh but true. Maybe this was just the beginning, and the road ahead was longer and tougher than I had anticipated.