Morning had started something.He could feel it in his hands.He didn’t know where it would land yet, but for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t afraid of the distance between here and there.
He was ready to walk it.
ChapterTen
The six o’clock segment ran like it had somewhere to be.
Patrice’s piece opened on the porch, sun soft on the railing, Jami leaning in, voice steady as a heartbeat.Then the cut.The roaring Miami crowd.A freeze-frame of Jami between songs, face set, eyes unreadable.Back to the porch, his mouth forming a kind truth about mornings.Another cut, tighter and meaner, someone’s phone video of security moving a fan back from the stage while Jami looked down to step on a microphone peddle.The narration said words like “reserved” and “distant,” then slid in the bakery photo from Mae’s, the one with her hand near his, and asked if a new romance might be the reason the front man seemed “elsewhere.”
Ten minutes later, the clip was everywhere.
Carlene watched the first shares from the end of the barn’s elevated stage, her laptop screen a little square of storm.Comments shifted tone in waves.A few kind ones tried to hold the line.More came in questioning.A handful got sharp.
"Is he bored with us now?"
"Always thought he was full of himself."
"He used to smile like he meant it.Now money's coming in and he's bored."
“Okay,” Tony said, voice low, eyes on his phone.“Everyone breathe.A local site reposted the piece.Two mid-tier blogs have already picked it up.The label’s calling in three."
Livia moved to Carlene’s side as if by gravity.“Do you think this is a blip?”
“It can be,” Carlene said, even while her stomach tightened.The segment wasn’t a hatchet job.It was worse.It was neat.It stitched a story out of pieces that didn’t belong together and made it feel like fact.
Her phone vibrated in her palm.The label’s digital head.She answered and set it to speaker, Tony and Jami close enough to hear, the others hanging back, a hush settling over the barn like dust.
“You’re seeing the hit,” the woman said without hello.
“We are,” Carlene said.
“Then you know where this goes,” the woman said.“If we don’t flip it by morning, we’re looking at cancellation chatter in two markets and soft sales in a third.TikTok will run the porch clip against Miami and call it proof.Your hometown strategy worked.This undercut it.”
“We’ll hold comments,” Carlene said.“We’ve got locals helping.”
“That’s good,” the woman said, not impressed.“But slow.If you want a fast pivot, you need warmth you can’t argue with.You need a hand-in-hand on a dock.You need a smile that isn’t for the camera.You'll need Phase 3.And tell Vivian we're handling it."Which struck Carlene as odd; why would Vivian be personally tracking this?
Silence held for a beat.Carlene felt Jami go still beside her.
“We’d planned to assess next week,” Carlene said.“The song’s carrying its weight.The town’s with us.”
“The internet isn’t your town,” the woman said.“It wants a face.Give it one, or it’ll pick one for you, and it’ll be the worst possible choice.”
Carlene thought of the circled photo at Mae’s.She thought of every time a simple moment turned teeth-first.She closed her eyes for the length of a breath and opened them again.
“If we move, we do it our way,” she said.“No tabloids.No blind items.One image in a place we control.”
“You’ll have our support,” the woman said, hearing the yes under that.“If you can deliver something tonight, we can seed a softer read by morning shows.Keep the segment from setting.”
“Not tonight,” Carlene said.“That reads desperate.Tomorrow, early evening.At the marina.At sunset.One clean sighting.Then we'll go quiet.”She glanced at Jami and found him watching her, his face careful.“We’ll confirm to one reporter after the photo runs and keep it light.”
The woman hesitated, calculating.“It could work.But your window’s small.Call me when you’ve got a time for its release.”
The line went dead.
The barn air felt heavier when the sound cut out.Axel set his drumsticks down like he was worried they’d break if he breathed wrong.Maddyn slipped her hand into his and held on.Sean stared at the floorboards.
Jami stayed still, shoulder to shoulder with Carlene, like he was bracing a beam.
