Breaking the Playbook [COMPLETED]

Chapter 40

LOLO'S POV

The day started like any other in this goddamn circus of a life. I woke up to a news alert on my phone, something about "scandalous behavior" and "relationship drama" involving Brooks and me. My stomach twisted into knots as I read the headlines, each word a blow to my already fragile state. I'd hoped for a reprieve, some peace of mind, but it felt like the universe was conspiring against us.

I grabbed my phone, and as I scrolled through the endless media frenzy, it became clear that the situation was spiraling out of control. There were rumors of Brooks being on the verge of being kicked off the team, and every news outlet seemed to have a different, increasingly outrageous take on our situation. I tried to breathe through the panic, but the sense of impending doom was suffocating.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I ran a hand through my hair, feeling tears of frustration prick at the corners of my eyes. I had to pull myself together. Brooks needed me to be strong, to be the steady anchor in this storm, but it was getting harder by the day. Every time I thought we'd found a way through, something new hit us like a punch to the gut.

The text messages started coming in—friends, family, people I hadn't heard from in ages—all reaching out to offer their support, their sympathy, or in some cases, their criticism. I couldn't read them all. I was already drowning in the sea of media outrage and scandalous headlines. Each message felt like another weight on my shoulders, another reminder of how far we'd fallen.

I glanced at the clock and realized I was running late. I had a meeting with my agent and some key figures in the PR department to try to manage the damage. It was all too much, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all slipping through my fingers.

When I finally arrived at the office, the mood was tense. The PR team was in full crisis mode, scrambling to handle the fallout from the latest batch of media reports. They briefed me on the latest updates, trying to stay calm and collected, but it was clear that everyone was on edge. They were talking about damage control, strategic apologies, and ways to spin the narrative, but nothing seemed to be working.

I felt a mix of frustration and helplessness. Every attempt to fix the situation only seemed to make things worse. I was caught in a whirlwind of media frenzy, and despite our best efforts, it felt like we were losing control. I could see the strain in the faces of the PR team, the stress etched into every line of their faces. They were working around the clock, but it wasn't enough.

After hours of futile attempts to manage the situation, I decided to head to the facility to see Brooks. I needed to be there for him, to offer whatever support I could. I had to see him to hold on to something real in the midst of all this chaos.

When I arrived at the facility, the scene was more chaotic than I'd ever seen. Reporters and photographers were swarming the entrance, their cameras flashing incessantly. It was like a fucking war zone, and I could barely get through the crowd. Every step felt like a battle; every shove and push was a reminder of how out of control everything had become.

I finally made it inside, my heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and determination. I spotted Brooks in the distance, looking exhausted and frustrated. The strain was evident on his face, the weight of everything pressing down on him. I rushed over, trying to offer a comforting smile, but I could see the despair in his eyes.

"Hey," I said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "How are you holding up?"

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "Not great," he admitted, his voice rough. "I feel like I'm at the end of my rope."

"We'll get through this," I said, trying to offer some reassurance.

Brooks nodded, but the look on his face was anything but reassuring. He was on the verge of breaking, and I could feel it in the way his shoulders slumped and in the way his eyes darted around, searching for an escape from the madness.

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," he said, his voice trembling. "It's like they're trying to tear us apart."

Just then, the door burst open, and I could hear the loud shouting of reporters and the incessant clicking of cameras. They were relentless, their questions sharp and invasive, pushing and prodding for more scandalous details.

I watched in horror as Brooks' frustration reached a breaking point. He stormed out of the building, pushing past the reporters, his face red with anger. The crowd surged forward, cameras flashing, microphones thrust into his face.

"Brooks! Is it true that you're being kicked off the team?" one reporter shouted.

"Are you and Lolo really over?" another asked.

Brooks' rage was palpable. "You want to know the truth?" he roared, his voice echoing through the chaos. "Fine. It's all fucking fake. The media's been spinning lies and creating drama where there's none. I'm sick of it!"

The crowd fell silent for a moment, stunned by his outburst. Brooks took a deep breath, his chest heaving with the effort to control his emotions. "I love Lolo," he continued, his voice cracking with raw emotion. "I would do anything for her. All this bullshit about our relationship is just that—bullshit. We're together, and that's all that matters."

The impact of his words was immediate. The crowd erupted into chaos, with the reporters scrambling to get more details and capture every moment of Brooks' emotional confession. It was a media frenzy unlike anything I'd seen before, and I could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

I watched from a distance, my heart aching as Brooks poured his soul out to the world. It was a raw, unfiltered display of emotion, and I knew it would have repercussions. But in that moment, I felt a surge of pride and relief. Brooks was standing up for us and for our love, and it was both heartbreaking and beautiful.

As the media chaos continued, I made my way outside, my heart racing. I needed to be with Brooks to support him in this moment of vulnerability. I found him standing alone, his face buried in his hands, his body shaking with the aftermath of his outburst.

I reached out, touching his shoulder gently. "Brooks," I said softly, "let's get out of here."

He looked up, his eyes red and swollen, but there was a glimmer of hope in them. "I'm sorry, Lolo," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for it to get this out of control."

"It's okay," I said, pulling him into a hug.

I stayed close to Brooks as we walked away from the media frenzy, my heart still pounding from the adrenaline. The world outside felt like a blur, and the chaos of the press was a distant noise compared to the intensity of what had just happened.

We found a quiet spot away from the madness, a small park where we could sit and catch our breath. The tension between us was palpable, but there was also a sense of relief. Brooks had finally spoken his truth, and it was raw and unfiltered. I could see the exhaustion and frustration in his eyes, but there was also a glimmer of hope.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. "I mean, that was... intense."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and determination. "I'm okay," he said, his voice steady. "I needed to say that. I needed to be honest."

"I'm glad you did," I said, reaching out to hold his hand. "It's been so hard with all this media bullshit. But we've made it through, and that's something."

Brooks nodded, his gaze focused on the ground. "I just want things to be normal again. I want us to be able to live our lives without all this drama."

"We will," I said, squeezing his hand.

As we sat there, the world seemed to slow down, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of calm. 

We spent the next few hours in that park, talking and reflecting on everything that had happened. The media frenzy was still a distant noise, but for now, we had a moment of peace. The intensity of the past few weeks seemed to fade away.