FALLS LIKE THUNDER [TYLER OWENS]

FOUR : SITTING IN A CORNER I HAUNT

CHAPTER FOUR : SITTING IN A CORNER I HAUNT

TWO WEEKS LATER

TULSA, OKLAHOMA

HER EXISTENTIAL CRISIS IS ONGOING, BUT SHE'S BECOME TOO SKILLED AT PUTTING IT ON PAUSE UNTIL BREAKS. It is as if a countdown in stark red numbers lights up in her mind from the moment their esteemed director starts twirling his finger for her to wrap it up. Her performance ends when she ends her report on the approaching storm with a signal back to their lead anchors and the cameraman swerves the lens to the news desk.

It begins to crumble from there.

Willow tugs off her mic pack, gently but quickly enough to free herself from the device that has become all too constricting within seconds. Her heels bite into her toes, a blister throbbing on the second, and the tension makes her jaw ache from too much smiling. Every movement, every sensation felt like a weight pressing on her skin. Thirty steps from the office, twenty-four if she takes longer strides, and then she can dart out for her allocated hour-and-a-half break for therapy and a sad, convenience store lunch.

But Joel stands at the end of the sound stage, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed as usual, waiting for her. Of course, he is there, a constant presence when she can least tolerate it.

"Great work, as always," he compliments as he sidles up next to her. Willow does not slow her pace- never does- but the typical tight-lipped smile she offers in thanks feels hollower, emptier.

Joel never notices the difference.

"What you said about the outbreak," he begins casually, keeping up with her as she tries to out-pace him, "do you really think we are about to hit one?"

"The NWS is dragging their feet on it, but it is highly probable," she replies quickly, her tone clipped with impatience festering in her.

"And what will we do once they do?"

"Once they make the call, graphics will need to prioritize sheltering and safety visuals for the next two weeks," Willow says flatly, already trying to end the conversation. "Something we can focus on later."

Joel takes her dismissal as something to smile at. "I understand; prioritize our breaks first," he thinks he responds in agreement. Willow counts step thirty and crosses the threshold of the office. She is quick to slip out of her heels into the pair of slides she hides under her desk and reaches for her bag.