Ava sipped her coffee just like throat-punching an entire PR firm with eloquence. Her hand trembles slightly, but her spine is straight, and her jaw is set with a kind of elegant defiance that could be bottled and sold as perfume: Resilience No. 5.
Zach offers a crooked smile, eyes warm beneath the calculated disinterest he wears like his perfectly tailored coat. "You just redefined the term 'soft launch obliteration.'"
Ava exhales. "It's not enough. You saw the comments—they're eating up the 'broken phoenix' narrative like it's gluten-free redemption. I need more than a televised rebuttal."
Zach leans closer, lowering his voice. "Then we keep going. But this time, we play your game."
Before Ava can respond, her phone buzzes.
Eva:
> Nice segment. Loved the whole 'truth matters' vibe.
P.S. You wore that blazer better in 2022. Still cute tho.
See you at the gala. Bring receipts.
Ava reads it once. Twice. She turns the screen to Zach.
