Press

Chapter 3: Shadows

Damon stood outside Bryson's office, heart thudding in his chest as he stared at the polished wood door. It felt unnervingly symbolic of their relationship—glossed over, but beneath the surface, it was full of splinters. He rubbed his palms together, took a deep breath, and knocked. This wasn't about their history, not today. He needed to keep his head clear and focused.

When the door opened, Bryson was standing there, as immaculate as always, dressed in his sharp, custom-tailored suit. His grin was the same one Damon had fallen for years ago—charming, disarming, and always carrying a hint of something more.

"Damon," Bryson greeted with his smooth, honeyed tone, gesturing casually to the leather chair opposite his desk. "Let's get this over with, huh?"

Damon forced a polite smile, stepping into the room. Bryson's office was impressive—large windows flooded the room with natural light, casting sharp shadows across the array of framed photos on the walls. Bryson with foreign dignitaries, at international summits, shaking hands with the President, as if his entire identity was built on the people he rubbed shoulders with. Political memorabilia cluttered the space, but Damon couldn't help but notice the lack of personal items. Nothing that suggested the real man behind the facade.

As Damon settled into the chair, he found himself straightening his posture, pulling his suit jacket tighter around him, a protective reflex he couldn't suppress. This meeting had to be strictly professional. He couldn't afford to slip.

Bryson sat across from him, reclining slightly, his eyes never leaving Damon's face. There was an intensity there, like Bryson was sizing him up, gauging how much of the old Damon still lingered beneath the surface. It made Damon's skin prickle, but he steeled himself. It had to be all business today.

"So," Bryson began, clasping his hands together. "The First Lady's bag. We've had a PR nightmare on our hands." His tone was all business now, a sharp contrast to his earlier casual greeting.

Damon nodded, flipping open the file on his lap, filled with media reports, social media posts, and public reactions. "The image of her accepting the bag from Carlucci went viral," Damon said, keeping his voice measured. "The media spun it as a bribe, and it didn't help that Carlucci had a reputation. We needed to control the narrative before it spiraled any further."

Bryson leaned forward, tapping his fingers on the desk. "What was the current sentiment?"

"Divided. Some are defending her, saying it was just an innocent gift exchange, while others accused the administration of corruption. The problem was, we didn't know how deep this could go." Damon looked Bryson directly in the eye, keeping his voice steady. "We needed to get ahead of this, fast."

Bryson's jaw clenched for a moment, the weight of the situation settling over him. "We've dealt with worse scandals, but this one... it feels personal, and you know how people are with the First Family. It's all about perception. The President's numbers have been slipping, and this could be the tipping point."

Damon nodded. "We need to plan the President's next media appearance carefully. No off-the-cuff remarks. He has to come across as composed, concerned, and fully aware of the situation without seeming defensive. We'll need a tightly scripted statement, followed by a controlled Q&A with vetted reporters."

"And the First Lady?" Bryson asked, his eyes narrowing.

"She addressed the people directly on TV using Parker's speech, but that's not enough," Damon said. "We need her to do a sit-down interview. Something personal, where she can explain the context behind the gift without sounding rehearsed. Maybe something softer, like a morning show segment. We need the public to see her as genuine, not guilty."