The Contest
Prologue Part 1
Rating: T
Genre: Sci-Fi
Sylvia Star inherited the editor-in-chief position of “Alright!” Magazine last year, after the incident had happened. The former EIC was assassinated after reporting the “true” story of Tiger Woods. It was an hour away from midnight, and Sylvia needed some fresh air. She had been in the workspace since 7:00 AM that morning, on floor 51 of headquarters, and had not left the building since, revising the latest scoop on the Bradgelina divorce. She should have been working on the Contest issue instead, but was too depressed to look inside the folder. Sylvia opened her bulletproof window, installed after her old boss was blown away, leaving her in charge.
It was a late Tuesday evening, and the sky was as clear and dark as a bar of Dove chocolate. The moon’s craters were fully visible in the sky. She wondered if the inexperienced babysitter had put the kids to sleep yet.
Sylvia listened to the frightening noises of L.A.’s nightlife. She heard gangs in action, rowdy bars, and clubs with IMAX-volume speakers.
There was a lot of pressure, being the successor to someone killed in office. Plus, Sylv was about to write the biggest story of her life. She was surprised that Nancy, her intern, had not come upstairs with more coffee. In order to stay awake working 15-hour days, several liters of caffeine was needed.
Sylv finally opened her desk drawer, the one that held the dreaded folder with the Contest’s results. The contents of the folder needed to be published in next week’s issue, and none of the journalist teams had covered a story yet. She needed to get to work fast. After all, there was only an hour left of her work-day. Sylvia put more paper into the color printer, and opened the outline from the graphics department on a Word document. She scanned the first two-hundred names in that hour, none of which were hers. She hoped that one of the other weekly magazines had entered her name in, although it was highly unlikely. Take a million people, and multiply that number by seven thousand. Seven billion people lived on this planet, and only a million people were chosen, the odds were 1:7000. That night, Sylv left the building with an odd sense of anxiety.
Prologue Part 1
Rating: T
Genre: Sci-Fi
Sylvia Star inherited the editor-in-chief position of “Alright!” Magazine last year, after the incident had happened. The former EIC was assassinated after reporting the “true” story of Tiger Woods. It was an hour away from midnight, and Sylvia needed some fresh air. She had been in the workspace since 7:00 AM that morning, on floor 51 of headquarters, and had not left the building since, revising the latest scoop on the Bradgelina divorce. She should have been working on the Contest issue instead, but was too depressed to look inside the folder. Sylvia opened her bulletproof window, installed after her old boss was blown away, leaving her in charge.
It was a late Tuesday evening, and the sky was as clear and dark as a bar of Dove chocolate. The moon’s craters were fully visible in the sky. She wondered if the inexperienced babysitter had put the kids to sleep yet.
Sylvia listened to the frightening noises of L.A.’s nightlife. She heard gangs in action, rowdy bars, and clubs with IMAX-volume speakers.
There was a lot of pressure, being the successor to someone killed in office. Plus, Sylv was about to write the biggest story of her life. She was surprised that Nancy, her intern, had not come upstairs with more coffee. In order to stay awake working 15-hour days, several liters of caffeine was needed.
Sylv finally opened her desk drawer, the one that held the dreaded folder with the Contest’s results. The contents of the folder needed to be published in next week’s issue, and none of the journalist teams had covered a story yet. She needed to get to work fast. After all, there was only an hour left of her work-day. Sylvia put more paper into the color printer, and opened the outline from the graphics department on a Word document. She scanned the first two-hundred names in that hour, none of which were hers. She hoped that one of the other weekly magazines had entered her name in, although it was highly unlikely. Take a million people, and multiply that number by seven thousand. Seven billion people lived on this planet, and only a million people were chosen, the odds were 1:7000. That night, Sylv left the building with an odd sense of anxiety.
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