The night just wouldn't let up.
Even after the arena had cleared out, and the chants had faded into mere echoes bouncing off the concrete walls, the energy from the show still seemed to vibrate in the air.
Vince had just wrapped up his review of the last production notes when his office phone rang.
He leaned back in his chair and answered, "Nicholas."
On the other end, Nicholas skipped the small talk.
"It was the highest viewed show of the week on Vox."
Vince paused, letting that sink in.
Vox was a national broadcaster, reaching audiences far beyond Harborview. For IRW — which still had a mostly regional following — to snag the top spot in weekly viewership, even just once, was a big deal.
Nicholas continued, his voice steady but laced with excitement. "We didn't dominate every demographic nationwide, of course. But for our network? We had the highest viewership of the week. Lots of engagement."
Vince turned his chair slowly to face the window, gazing down at the vacant parking lot outside the IRW headquarters.
"Good," he said in a calm voice. "Now, focus on the trend. Not just tonight, but the next few weeks. That's what really counts."
Nicholas paused for a moment. "Do you think it'll hold?"
A slight smile appeared on Vince's lips. "It won't just hold. It's going to rise."
There was a brief silence on the line.
Then Nicholas cleared his throat. "About the basketball proposal."
Vince leaned in a bit. "Yes?"
"The Slantows State College Basketball Association is looking over the contract. Their board met this afternoon, and they said they'd get back to us within the week."
Nicholas coughed awkwardly, as if he still couldn't quite believe what he was saying.
"Are you sure about this direction?" he asked cautiously. "Switching from underperforming reality shows to college basketball… it's not exactly a proven path for prime time."
Vince clasped his hands on the desk.
"It's not proven because no one has given it a chance," he replied. "You create prestige by investing before everyone else sees its worth. If Vox becomes the first major broadcaster to treat college tournaments like big events, others will follow suit."
Nicholas let out a slow breath. "So, you're asking us to create demand."
"Let's acknowledge this before anyone else catches on," I suggested.
There was a brief silence.
"I'll keep you posted as soon as I hear back," Nicholas finally replied.
"Sounds good."
Vince ended the call.
For a moment, he let the quiet wash over him.
The most-watched show of the week.
The inaugural Vox special.
Falls Count Anywhere.
A table smashed.
A handshake.
It had all gone according to plan.
But now, the rush of excitement had faded, leaving behind a mountain of paperwork.
Piles and piles of it.
Being the owner of IRW and still choosing to be hands-on meant dealing with contracts, scheduling, budget approvals, talent negotiations, and broadcast coordination. Vince despised paperwork. It felt like shackles on his time.
He signed the final document, rubbed his tired eyes, and glanced at the clock.
Way too late.
He stood up, grabbed his coat, and turned off the lights.
The building was almost deserted.
As he stepped out into the crisp night air, an annoying realization hit him.
He still didn't have a car.
The parking lot was mostly empty. No taxis in sight.
He muttered to himself, "Just great."
And so, he started walking.
The streetlights stretched long shadows across the pavement, and the city felt a bit more peaceful now, with just the faint hum of traffic in the distance.
Suddenly, a horn blared behind him.
He turned around.
A car eased up next to him.
The driver's window rolled down.
It was Maya.
She leaned in a bit, one hand resting on the steering wheel.
"Need a lift?"
Vince blinked, a small smirk creeping onto his face as he walked over.
"This is starting to feel like déjà vu," he said, opening the passenger door.
Maya raised an eyebrow. "This is the second time, you know."
He slid into the seat. "Maybe I should start charging you for these chauffeur gigs."
Maya let out a soft laugh as she pulled the car back onto the road.
For a moment, they enjoyed a comfortable silence.
Then Vince broke it, asking, "What are you still doing here? Everyone else took off over an hour ago."
Maya kept her focus on the road.
"Had some… stuff to figure out."
Vince glanced her way. "Stuff?"
She hesitated before answering.
He tilted his head slightly. "You were waiting for someone. Someone who would be late-"
Maya's grip on the steering wheel tightened a bit. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
He leaned back, a teasing grin on his face. "But you were."
She shot him a quick glance. "I could just leave you here, you know."
Vince raised both hands in a defensive gesture. "Got it. I take back what I said."
The silence stretched out again.
Then Maya spoke softly.
"It was a night unlike any other."
He didn't cut her off.
"I became champion," she went on. "I actually won."
Her voice held a mix of emotions—relief, disbelief, and pride.
She stole a quick glance at him. "So… thanks."
Vince held her gaze a moment longer than necessary.
"You did the work," he replied. "You earned it."
He took a breath.
"Though I have to say, you looked like you might faint before the match kicked off."
Maya gasped. "I did not."
"You were shaking."
"I was not shaking."
"You were."
She let out a sharp breath, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"Enough."
He offered a small smile.
She turned her attention back to the road, her cheeks feeling warmer than she'd ever admit.
Before they knew it, they arrived at his apartment building sooner than expected.
Maya parked and switched off the engine.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Vince reached for the door handle.
Then he hesitated.
He glanced back at her.
"It's late."
Maya raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"You shouldn't be driving alone at this hour."
Her expression shifted instantly.
"So just because I'm a woman, I can't drive by myself?"
Vince froze.
"That's not what I—"
"You think I'm weak?"
"No."
"You think I need someone to protect me?"
"No."
"You think—"
He raised his hands again. "I think you're more than capable of driving alone. Strong. Independent. Extremely capable."
Maya stared at him, processing his words.
He quickly added, "And you can definitely drive home safely."
He turned back toward the door.
Then her voice broke the silence behind him.
"Do you have an extra bed?"
He stopped.
Slowly, he turned back around.
Maya's face was calm, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes.
Vince's lips curled into a slight smile.
"We might have to share."