Reverie - Michael Jackson Imagines

Perfectly Professional ✨

Bad Era

HUNGRY EYES: Inside Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey's off-screen romance. Details on page 4!

"Fake news," you mumbled to yourself, crumpling up the copy of the National Enquirer, your heels clicking against the tile floors as you headed into the conference room.

You glance briefly at your watch, you had just three minutes to spare before your Monday pitch meeting and you'd likely be late but you didn't care. You were exhausted from a late-night editing your latest cover story, were in desperate need of caffeine and would rather be anywhere than a room full of your insufferable colleagues.

You were a co-host and correspondent for Entertainment Tonight. For many it was a dream job- living in LA, getting to be on television every night, brushing shoulders with the stars and a generous paycheck were just a few perks- but to you, flipping burgers at a fast-food joint served more respectable.

You were completely disillusioned and indifferent towards your position. Entertainment news was completely arbitrary and frivolous to you, only a peg up from Yellow journalism.

Ever since you were a kid, you'd thought of journalists as noble citizens and wanted to be like them. You wanted to write the hard-hitting stories that unveiled the truth, made people cry, reflect and strive to make a change for the better.

You'd quickly realized it was something you could never do as a correspondent at a glorified tabloid. You felt like you couldn't grow there. That you'd always be held back as a mediocre journalist.

You push open the doors of the conference room, the smell of fresh coffee greeting you. A few of the correspondents were already sitting at the table chatting amongst themselves. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and grab a plain doughnut when a figure brushes against you.

"Hey Y/N," the annoying voice greets. "you're looking mighty good this morning."

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look into the direction for the pest.

"Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee, Thomas," you respond pushing past the blond and slumping into a chair at the round table.

Thomas proceeds to plant himself next to you to your dismay. You were both hosts on the panel and Thomas had a major crush on you. For months he'd been pestering you to go out with him but you always adamantly declined. You were against dating colleagues and found Thomas far too cocky for your taste.

"Now that Y/N is fashionably late, we can get on with the meeting," your executive producer, Ed announces to the group.

You roll your eyes before grabbing a pen and notebook out of your satchel.

"John, I'm green lighting the Chinese theater piece. It'll be good for tourism. Thomas, the Jayne Mansfield investigation-love it. Shelly, the celebrity pet spa is genius!- "

"Um, excuse me," you speak, suddenly raising your hand as if you were a pupil in class. "What about my pitch on homeless youth in LA? It's perfect for some diversity in this line-up."

The room grows silent and all eyes are on you. You brush off the judgemental glances of your colleagues.

"Y/N," Ed starts, adjusting his round glasses. "Not to be rude but nobody cares. At least not here at ET. People tune into our channel to stay updated on the entertainment world-to escape. They don't want reality. If you want to do hard-ball stories you need to go to CNN or NBC."

You sigh. This wasn't the first time you'd had this spill. It seemed like Ed was reminding you of this every pitch meeting.

"She really thinks she's Walter Cronkite or something," Shelly mumbles. "cool it."