wine stains

and we're live!

"In three...two....one...and we're live!"

He straightens up on his uncomfortable chair and smiles softly. The camera man signs him to start speaking.

He clears his throat and fixes his tie one last time."Good evening America, this is Zachary Herron reporting the news of the world live...in this broadcast we'll be discussing-" His reporting voice was rhythmic and clear. As it should be.

Zach stops talking when someone to his earpiece spoke.

His lines suddenly change. His eyes quickly skim through the rapidly changing telegram.

"This just in...the Manhattan killer has attacked again, this is their fifth kill since the police has learned about their existence...it is, once again, advised that you stay at home during the night and don't walk around without company."

He straightens his tie as a pang of anxiety courses through him. Zach walks home alone.

"The shelters are open to homeless people, so they can protect themselves from this serial killer. Stay safe, New Yorkers. With a more detailed update on this situation, we have Daniel Seavey."

"And you're off air, cut to Seavey." Zach's back turns lax in his chair but quickly straightens up once again as the anxiety slowly spreads in his abdomen.

"Good evening, Zachary, and good evening, America. I'm standing on the fifth Avenue, where the uhm body of the victim was found...here to give us more insight on the situation, is lieutenant corbyn besson."

"Good evening." The man looks at Daniel.

"Good evening, lieutenant besson. What happened here?" Daniel points the microphone at him.

"It seems that our perpetrator is the same as the previous murder, as from a first analysis, the injuries seem to be the same." He tries to explain the best he can without giving much detail. The last thing the NYPD needs is copycats.

"Can you refresh our mind on what the citizens should do?" He points it at Corbyn again, ready to listen.

"Of course. In times like these, and if you can't comply with Mr. Herron, I advise citizens to carry around pepper spray and not be afraid of calling the emergency services. The NYPD is trying their best to contain this threat."

"How long do you uhm think this will last?" He asks. The question clearly makes the lieutenant's face harden.

"Well, we're hoping that we can get this killer as soon as possible. There's no specific date."

"...we're cutting back to Zach." He hears through his earpiece.

"Thank you so much for your time, lieutenant besson. And good luck."

"Glad I could help." He smiles softly.

"..aaaaannnnd you're off air." Daniel puffs out his cheeks. National television was hard.

Corbyn fixes his tie. "Excuse me... Daniel, right?"

"Yeah?" The blond asks.

"A-Are you single?"

Daniel chuckles. "Yeah, why wanna go on a date?"He teases.

Corbyn nods aggressively, a dash on pink settled on his cheeks. "Sure thing, let's see if you can handle me." He winks.

***

"And that was our daily analysis with our station's executive, Tim Frantzich." Zach finishes the segment perfectly.

"It's always a pleasure with you, Zachary."The brunet smiles at him, even though, deep down, he wants to punch the man.

"Well, that's all the time we have for today. I'm Zach Herron. Have a great night, America."

"aaaaaaaannnd.....we're off air! Great Zach, you did it again."

The brunet sighs, relieved. He got the microphone off of him and loosened his tie. Zach got up and went to his dressing room to change clothes and head back home.

Someone knocked on his door as soon as he closed it. "Hey Zach? " The brunet opens the door.

"Yes, Jonah?" Zach sighs and sits down on his chair as he starts taking off the make-up, revealing the dark circles under his eyes. He was exhausted.

"Are you free on Friday?"

"No, I'm quite expensive. why'd you ask?" He jokes. As much as he likes Jonah...his love for him is merely platonic. The older man clearly doesn't understand that.

"I was wondering..."Jonah gets behind his chair and slowly turns the brunet towards him.

"If?" Zach disposes of the make-up wipes.

"If you wanted to go on a date with me." He tries to trap him in the chair, but Zach quickly gets up.

"As friends? Sure." He gets up from his chair to set his blazer on the hanger so that it could be washed. He didn't like having people too close to him.

Jonah grabbed him by the hips. "I was thinking more like..." He gets close to his ear. "...future boyfriends." Jonah goes to kiss his neck, but Zach pushes him away and faces him.

"I don't date co-workers Jonah." He crosses his arms. "You know that." He tries to keep his tone and body language at bay. There is nothing more he wants to do but to punch him for even suggesting a date.

"Im sure you can make an exception for me."Jonah gets closer.

"Actually, I can't."He tries to be assertive and chooses to take a step back, hitting a wall. Shit.

Jonah grabs his hips yet again and pins him to the wall. He was much bigger and stronger than Zach. "No, actually, you can. You don't wanna get fired, do you?" Right in the weak spot.

Jonah knew exactly what being a reporter meant to Zach. How much he fought for a spot despite everything he went through. It was his dream, and it was at Jonah's mercy.

"No."He says quietly as he looks down. He could see Jonah's bulge, and it just grossed him out because he didn't think of jonah that way. He fights the bile coming up his throat.

"Great. I'll tell my dad to replace you this friday and I'll pick you up from your place, is that good?" He tightens the grip of his hips, as if he was daring him to do something he doesn't like.

"You're hurting me." He tries to push his away, but he was much stronger. Their strength difference was absurd.

"I said..."He carves his fingers onto his hips. "Is that good?" The brunet nods.

Jonah lets go of him. "Great...can't wait to see you looking hot this friday."

Zach nods again. Jonah pats his cheek twice and walks out of the room.

The brunet quickly changes clothes and grabs his stuff. Zach makes a bee line to the street, where he paces home. He had tears in his eyes, and his hands were shaking. He closes them into fists and starts pushing past people as his pace fastens.

He wipes his tears, but more keep falling. Zach starts running to his building, as he doesn't want people to recognize him. He ran up the stairs to his floor and grabbed his keys.

His hands were so shaky that he couldn't even get the key on the keyhole. Zach wiped his tears and managed to unlock his door. The brunet locked his door as soon as he got in.

He leaned against his door and slid down as he sobbed. Zach felt dirty.

***
From afar, someone watched the reporter crumble on his way home. The person crouches as if they were picking up a piece of the reporter. They tie their shoelaces. The man gets up and closes his left fist. The slim fingers of his right hand grab a lighter and fiddle with it.

All it takes to change someone's course of life is one moment. One action. One sentence. One word. One flick of a lighter. One flame. One knife. One jab.

One last breath.

One second until all life disappears from one person's eyes.

All it takes is one person.