Lake Louis, Canada, November 18
Katharina
The team lodge lounge is quiet around lunch.Most of the crew went to celebrate Thomas's Super-G win: beer with fans, loud music, full send.Niko is probably still trying to out-drink Canadians, Lukas propped in the corner with his "one more story from '09," and Martin charming half the fan club into selfies.
There's no time for parties when you're the one who works after they cross the finish line.
I don't mind missing it.Not really.I had one beer—well, what Canadians call beer anyway.Sang a song, grabbed some shots for the socials, and even danced a little with Thomas for the camera.He earned the dance.I got a quote from Bellini, who finished second, and enjoyed his harmless flirtation, well aware Thomas was watching.Visibly bothered by Bellini's advances.
A sweet memory, but fleeting.I've got work to do.
Now I'm scrolling on my phone, searching for inspiration for a post-race caption.FIS Alpine already posted the replay of Thomas's winning run.I watch it again: his reckless ease, the way the skis follow as if reading his mind.
They called it reckless.It was certainty.
I close the mental tab I've labeledKern Admirationand try to switch into work mode.Perhaps I can use that thought and thread it into the recap piece.
That's when Brenner strolls into the lounge, humming some pop song.It makes me raise an eyebrow.First time I've seen him look relaxed.He orders a coffee and smiles.
"Ah, Kat.Do you mind?"he asks, already sitting down before I can answer.
"The party was good?"I offer.
"Well, yeah.Drinking with fans after a win…nothing beats it.They're wrapping up now.We leave in an hour."
I nod and glance back at my phone, not sure how to respond.
"You seem to get along well with the guys," he says, sipping."You weren't my first choice, but I've got to admit that we chose well."
"Thanks, I guess," I say after a pause, unsure if I should feel flattered or tested.
"There's one thing, though."He sets the cup down."It's about Kern.He's too...polished.Too perfect."
He's not wrong.I feel the same way in my articles and social media content; no matter how much I try, he seems too perfect.As a storyteller, I know that saints don't sell until you show them as turned sinners.Thomas always says the right things, makes time for fans, and smiles for every sponsor.The public loves him, and yet...
"Thomas is a media dream," I say evenly."He's clean.Professional.He never gives the press anything to pounce on."
"Exactly."Brenner nods."Imagine how much more powerful an asset he'd be if we made him more...human.We're talking major sponsors, Kat.Winning's not enough anymore.I hired you to elevate this team.To turn them into a brand.And Kern is the core."
"His image is likable enough," I offer, shifting in my seat.
"Likable and compelling are two different things."
He raises a hand like he's bargaining."I'm not asking for trauma dumps.Just a bit of soul.Something real fans can hold on to."
Then, softer, almost reasonable: "If we don't write Kern's story, someone else will.And they won't be kind."
I've heard the stories about Brenner.Cold.Calculating.He counts medals and money.He's fired coaches mid-season.He gets results, but people are numbers to him.
When I took this job, I didn't care.Now?I've met these guys.I've seen them work; how kind they are with each other.I won't let anyone use their weaknesses as branding fuel.
Especially Thomas' weaknesses.If he has any, I mean.
The lounge door hadn't closed all the way.
Thin hotel walls, voices carrying too easily.I should've lowered mine.
