Dandelions

Taylor Kelly

Edited 7/11/2025

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[The camera zoomed on Taylor Kelly, who stood in front of the still-smoking high-rise, the wind catching at her hair and the edge of her blazer. The fire had been out for less than an hour, but the building behind her still looked dramatic with the windows gutted and the sky above it bruised with smoke.]

"Good evening, Los Angeles," she began, voice steady for the camera even if her throat still burned faintly from the air. "We're here downtown, where a rescue earlier today stunned onlookers and even seasoned firefighters. Flames tore through the upper floors of this complex, trapping multiple residents with no safe way out."

She paused briefly, eyes flicking toward the crane that still loomed over the block. "That's when Captain Evan Buckley and his team with the Los Angeles Fire Department stepped in. What followed was nothing short of extraordinary."

[Cut to footage of the burning building, flames licking through shattered windows as thick smoke pours into the sky. Firefighters move fast across the scene, shouts cutting through the noise of sirens and rushing water. The camera catches flashes of reflective gear, hoses snaking across the pavement, the steady rhythm of a coordinated effort against chaos.

Cut to an aerial shot of the crane stretching toward the building, its arm extending through the smoke. The heat distortion ripples across the frame as the basket edges closer to the upper floors, where trapped civilians wave frantically from the windows.]

"Witnesses say Captain Buckley commandeered a construction crane on-site. Using ropes secured by his team, he scaled its arm to reach residents trapped inside." Taylor continued, keeping her voice even as the scene cut back to her. "He reached the upper floors and began pulling people out one by one. Some of them could barely move, and others couldn't see through the smoke, but they all made it down."

[Camera shows the footage of Captain Buckley and his team gathered near the base of a construction crane, their movements quick and deliberate as they strategize amid the noise of sirens and shouting. The air is thick with smoke, and the visibility was low, but their coordination is clear as each firefighter checked each other's gear and secured lines.

The camera shifts following Captain Buckley as he begins his climb up the swaying arm of the crane. The structure groans under the strain of heat and wind, metal creaking as he moves higher, steady and focused. Below, his team keeps pace, tightening ropes and monitoring every step. The shot widens to capture the scale of it — one figure moving against the backdrop of fire and smoke, climbing toward the trapped civilians above.]

"Once at the top, Captain Buckley descended into the heart of the inferno, guiding trapped occupants to safety one by one. Despite the raging fire and billowing smoke, he remained steadfast, ensuring that each person was rescued from the impending danger."

[Camera switches to a close-up of Captain Buckley helping a terrified individual out of a window.]

"When the final victim was safe," Taylor went on, "the building began to give way. The 118 cleared the perimeter just in time before the top floors collapsed."

[Camera captures the collapse of the building, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air.]

"The bravery and heroism displayed by Captain Buckley and his team today have left the city of Los Angeles in awe. Through their selfless actions, they have saved lives and reminded us all, of the extraordinary courage found within our first responders."

Taylor's expression softened as she glanced off camera, toward the 118 regrouping at the far end of the street. "Captain Buckley declined an interview, saying only that he was proud of his team. His words were simple: 'We couldn't have done it without each other.'"

Taylor took a steading deep breath. "Reporting downtown, I'm Taylor Kelly. Stay safe, Los Angeles."

When the red light of the camera blinked off, she dropped her smile and turned to watch the smoke trail off into the orange sky. Buck and his team were already gone, probably back to their station.

Four years.

That's how long it has been since she and Buck split up. Long enough for the sting to fade, but not long enough for people to stop bringing it up. They still smiled when they saw her — friendly, polished smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes. In green rooms, they told her how proud they were, how inspiring her success was. Online, the comments were always the same.

Ambitious. Ruthless. Sellout.

Her book had hit the bestseller list, and that was supposed to fix everything. The sales had hit the rooftop and filled her bank account, which was supposed to prove she'd made the right choices, that she'd done something meaningful to justify the heartbreak that followed.

But all that her success managed was to leave her feeling hollowed out.

Taylor pulled off her earpiece and slipped into the van's passenger seat. The chatter from the crew blurred into background noise, as her phone buzzed. She knew better, but she opened it anyway.

Buck's Instagram profile came up instantly. There he was, grinning with Tommy beside him, arm thrown around his shoulders. Their daughter was between them, cheeks round and bright.

Taylor stared too long, before swiping to another photo. This one had all three of them with matching Los Angeles Zoo shirts. Another — Buck asleep on the couch with Danielle sprawled over his chest, and Tommy's socked feet in the corner of the frame.

Her mouth went dry.

It wasn't about wanting him back. Not really. It was about what Buck had now. What she'd never even thought to want when she'd had the chance. Back then, she was too busy chasing deadlines and trying to outrun that constant fear of becoming irrelevant.

And Buck — God, Buck had been good to her. Too good, really. He'd been patient when she pulled away, when deadlines and ambition started taking up the space where he used to fill. He never pushed back or demanded more of her time. He just waited, steadily in a way that made her feel both safe and guilty at once.

And then one day, Taylor ended it. All for a scoop that seemed worth everything in the moment — the story that would make her career, the one that would prove she could stand on her own. The fallout came fast, and the book that followed it was supposed to justify all her loss. Now, she couldn't even bring herself to read it.

Taylor let the screen go dark and leaned back, bumping her head against the passenger seat's headrest.

Her camera man joined her in the van and started driving. The city slid past in streaks of orange light, billboards, and all the lives she'd never stop reporting on. She didn't hate her job. But lately, it seemed like she was always on the outside looking in, narrating someone else's happiness.

Maybe that was fair, she'd probably earned it — you could call it karma.

Still, with her phone warm against her leg, she made herself a small promise to try to be better. Not for anyone else, not for Buck. For the version of herself she used to see growing old beside Buck. The one who didn't need to bulldoze her way into every story.

She could do that much.

Outside, the lights blurred and the city kept moving. Somewhere out there, Buck was probably tucking his kid into bed, reading in that ridiculous voice he used for picture books.

Taylor closed her eyes and sighed.

Tomorrow will come either way.