With full drive, Joy moved her legs in a quick rhythm, barely managing to keep up with the lanky legs of her new mentor. The mentor continued his brisk stroll through the firm, ignoring the plight of his intern’s petite frame.

            “That’s the meeting room, which is basically a paid nap at this point with the direction this company is heading,” the man grumbled out with rasp in his voice, “that’s the break room, which has pretty much lost its purpose because a certain somebody keeps eating the doughnuts—Daisy.”

            The man glared at the woman residing in a break room with his piercing black eyes as he aggressively stroked his scruffy self-proclaimed beard with his right hand.

            “Um, this is very nice and all, erm, Mr. Watterson,” Joy stuttered out as her walking started slowing to a halt, “but, err, when do I actually get to do some real work?”

            The man came to a sudden halt directly under an overhead light panel, allowing the gleam to reflect a boisterous shine on his bald head.

            “I told you, kid. I don’t do the formality-mumbo-jumbo. Zach is just fine.”

            “Oh, sorry! I’ll try to be more careful about that Mr.Watter—I mean Zach!”

            “Yeah, whatever. Anyway, since you’re so excited, I got some work for you, kid.”

            “Really?!?” Joy blurted out as she bounced her knees with a wide grin on her face.

            “Really.”

            My first real break in news journalism! Joy thought to herself as her knees continued to jitter up and down at a faster rate, This is a chance to show the world what I ca—

            “Great, kid. Take this,” he sneered, handing over the tightly clenched coffee mug in his left hand to his subordinate, “Remember, I like it black.”

            The once wide-grinning optimism on her face was replaced with straight-faced perplexion as her right hand latched onto her mentor’s self-indulgent mug: WHO ME?

            “Sir?”

            “Kid, we’ve been over this a thousand times: Zach.”

            “I’m sorry. It’s just that my parents, especially my father, raised me to always refer to an adult by a title tha—”

            “Did I ask for your life story, June?”

            “Joy, si—Zach.”

            “Right, Julie.”

            Zach grabbed his head, making a conscious effort to cover the top of his hairless head. Slamming his elbows in the midst of the messy files swarming his desk, he tilted his head down and groaned as he stared down the keyboard that taunted him. Sitting in the seat beside him, Joy simply placed her clasped hands on her crossed legs and let out a lengthy sigh.

            “…Zach, I’ve been in this internship for two weeks, now, and…”

            “Your point?” he shot back, his voice remaining monotone.

            “It’s just that in my time here, I’ve only really done coffee runs, clean up after your potato chip crumbs, and occasionally leave mean notes for Daisy in the break room on your behalf.”

            “You should’ve seen the look on her face when she read the ‘Another daily doughnut is just another day of divorce, Daisy’ note!” he howled as he pulled his head from his desk and positioned it toward his intern in a laughing fit.

            “Err…yeah,” was all Joy could nervously muster trying to appease Zach despite finding no humor in the note.

            “Well,” Joy started with vocal fry, putting an end to Zach’s raucous laughter, “I came to this internship hoping that I would be able to get a real taste of reporting the news, typing up articles, and maybe even some offsite work. I was hoping to be treated as more than just another unpaid intern.”

            “Wait, so let me get this straight: the seventeen-year-old high schooler with no credentials to her name comes to a generous unpaid internship expecting to be treated as anything more than an unpaid intern?” Zach asked, each word elevating the pitch of his voice ever-so slightly.

            Joy tightened her facial muscles and pinched the bridge of her nose, subtly shaking her head as she replayed the most recent exchange in her head.

            “Okay, when you spin like that, I seem like I’m asking for too much,” she sighed, “but the counselor told me about how great of an ‘opportunity’ this would be and how it would be a chance to ‘find myself.’ I was just…I was just really hoping that would all be true.”

            Zach’s once stern and hardened face softened as he looked upon the girl in her optimistic radiance. Upon a moment of contemplation, he rotated his chair so that his entire body faced the intern, a tiny grin struggling to dominate his face. “You really want to take this seriously, huh?”

            Joy eagerly nodded her head, a smile quickly creeping onto her face.

            “Man,” he started as he slightly reclined in his chair, “it’s just that the last few interns I’ve had under my wing were all kids just looking for another thing to add to the resumé.”

            “Oh no,” Joy blurted out as her eyes widened, “I really want to do this! I mean, if I want to be ‘Journalist Joy,’ then I have to at least get a taste for it!”

            “Ew, kid. Don’t ever say ‘Journalist Joyce’ again,” Zach groaned as he subtly winced his face.

            “Sorry,” Joy whimpered, shrinking back into her chair.

            A grin quickly returned to Zach’s face as he said, “But, yeah, starting tomorrow, I’ll make sure to have you more involved, but fair warning: journalism isn’t always pretty, and someti—"   

            Zach’s spiel was cut short by Joy’s feverish handshaking and repetitive rapid mutterings of “Thank you!”

            “SIR, SIR, SIR!” yelled Joy as she dashed into Zach’s cubicle. Zach suddenly shot his head up, somewhat groggy from his most recent nap, and oriented it toward the girl.

            “Zach, Janice.”

            “Sorry, sorry! I’m still working on that, but my name is Joy,” she said as she let out a long exhale, lightly resting her hand on the entrance of the cubicle while bending on her knees. “It’s just that some big stuff came up in the local political realm last night, and I thought it would be great if we could cover the story.”

            Zach rolled his chair toward his exhausted intern. A little puzzled, he asked, “What do you mean?”

            “It’s superintendent Akosua Danso, sir. Apparently, at the board meeting, teachers were furious about the fact that she was rewarding herself with a bonus while the teachers’ salaries remained untouched.”

            “Hmm...”

            “Oh, yeah. My Calculus teacher was all over it. He even said that the teacher that spoke out against the injustice was escorted from the premises by police. He said that things got physical and the superintendent didn’t do anything about it.”

            “Oh my.”

            Joy brought her fists to her face as her knees began bouncing. Her grin widened as her voice began to crack, “Siirach, don’t you see? This is our chance! It’s not every day a story as juicy as this comes out!”

            Zach placed his head on his hand as it rested upon his desk. He made a conscious effort to close his eyes, meditating some breaths through his nose as he did so. Peeling his eyes open, he looked at the bouncy intern and lightly nuzzled his “beard.”

            “Mmm, ‘kay, kid. Pull up your school’s directory. We’re about to conduct an interview” 

            “Yes!”

            Zach nearly nodded off before Joy gave him a light poke on the shoulder. He immediately jolted up, his pupils rolling toward the smartphone on the desk that read “Ricardo Flores.”

            “Right, right,” Zach gargled as he rubbed one of his eyes with his fingers, “Repeat what you just said because I didn’t catch any of that.”

            A husky growl emitted from within the phone. “Really? You yank me from my grading for an interview, but you can’t even be bothered to actually listen?”

            “Look, man. Not everybody gets an easy job where they don’t even work the summers,” Zach spoke, struggling but ultimately failing to contain a small yawn.

            “Way to miss the point. Some journalist you are,” the voice snidely replied.

            “Wait, wait,” Joy uttered, “it’s fine. I wrote down everything Dr. Flores said.”

            “You’re lucky you have such a good student with you, Mr. Journalist,” the voice on the phone cuttingly responded, “See you in class tomorrow, Joy. Good day.”

            Zach disgruntledly pocketed the smartphone as it returned to its lock screen. “You try doing this job,” he mumbled, “having to deal with the paperwork, stress, and Daisy.”

            Before Zach could bang his on the keyboard, Joy handed him her notes from the interview, causing his face to soften into concern.

            Crap, he thought, these notes aren’t detailed enough to write a full-fledged article.

            Zach looked at Joy and how it radiated with an earnest smile. Closing his eyes in a breath, Zach said, “Kid, is this all you could get? I mean, this is just what you told me this afternoon.”

            “Yes,” Joy let out, her smile slightly diminishing, “I mean, there’s not much he could say without lying because he couldn’t see everything.”

            Zach’s eyes direct their way toward the notepad before taking yet another gander at the girl. Zach squinted as he turned his head and caught glimpse of his reflection on his computer monitor. Looking at his expression, he masked his quivering face for one of sureness.

            “So…” Joy coughed out, “What’s the plan?”

            “Alright, kid. We may need to fluff up some notes if we wish to get an article out by tomorrow.” 

            “I don’t thin—”

            “Look, look, look. We’re just adding a personal spin to the already established narrative. We’re not downright fabricating stuff. Journalistic license if you will.”

            “Wait, but that goes against the Society of Professional Journalism Code of Ethics! Bullet one of the ‘Seek Truth and Report It’ section states that we should take responsibility for the accuracy—”

            “Zip it, kid. I know, but there’s not enough time for a second opinion. Corrupt authoritarians? Disgruntled underdogs? For God’s sake, police brutality?!? Social media and mainstream media will be all over it! We need to go big if we want a cut of the pie, Joise.”

            Joy locked a finger in a strand of her hair and began spinning it back and forth, her face subtly scrunching up in the process. “Zach, I’m not entirely sure I’m comfortable being so…dishonest…”

            Zach pulled on the bags below his eyes as he grumbled. He looked directly at the teenager with sternness building in his voice. “Look, kid, sometimes we gotta…bend the rules for the greater good…”

            “I won’t be able to look at myself in the mirror knowing that my name is associated with something so…wrong…”

            “Look, if you’re that concerned about how this will make you look in the grand scheme of things, we can just slap Daisy’s name on the article instead,” Zach countered with a smug smirk on his face. “It’s not like she has anything going for her, anyways,” he added under his breath.

            The smirk on Zach’s face was immediately wiped off when the man took notice to the fact that the girl was still running her fingers through her hair.

            “Kid, we won’t last a minute against the big leagues if we don’t fluff up.”

            “That doesn’t make it any less immoral!” she yelled, her voice rattling even more than usual, “The people trust us to maintain a certain level of integrity. Without it, we’re no better than the mean seventh grader looking to spread rumors just to get back at her ex!”

            “That’s...oddly specific, kid. Anyways, I don’t like it either, but in the past decade, journalism has become a little slimy.  As clean as we try to be, sometimes we have to…’dip our toes’ in the slime.”

            “…But, Sunfield News Firm is local. The people of Sunfield at the very least expect us to be different from the crowd for the sake of representing the town well.”

            “Kid, the people of this town may ramble on about how we’re the last trustworthy news site in the world, but that doesn’t stop them from turning away from our website for the latest sensationalist headline. We need to stay on the map.”

            Joy froze, unable to think of a proper counterargument. All she could do was look. She looked at her mentor picking at the nonexistent hairs on his head in frustration. She looked at his sheer complacency with the brewing scheme he was initiating. She looked at eyes and the icy apathy they withheld.

            Joy’s eyes began slightly watering, but she quickly wiped them with her arm as she inhaled the air that smelled of bitterness. With his unchanging glare, Zach grabbed his mug and took a long sip of his coffee.

            “Jackie, I thought you wanted to make an impact.”

            Joy just distraughtly stared at him, not even a peep escaping from her lips.

            “Kid, please. Work with me here.”

            Joy squirmed upon hearing those words. Her stomach still reeked of discomfort but remembering her days of leaving conspicuous notes in the break room, she took a big gulp and walked toward her mentor.

            “Okay, I’ll do it.”

            “Dr. Ricardo Flores and second-hand witness who wishes to remain anonymous reports that the police beat the woman senselessly despite her making no effort to resist police intervention whatsoever,” Joy faintly murmured as she read the twelve-point font on Zach’s desktop monitor.

            “Mr. Watterson, we didn’t even interview a second person! We don’t even know the victim’s gender!” Joy quizzingly stated, each word more piercing than the last.

            “We already had this discussion yesterday,” Zach griped, complete with an eyeroll. “I added some fluff and spice to make the article more appealing. Also, Jess, it’s Zach.”

            “Sorry, sorry! Still trying to get used that!” Joy noted as she slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Still, writing an article with made sources and made up information?”

            “I mean, this is the kind of story that sells. The police beating on a woman in public? Danso bribing the teachers into silence with her large wad of cash? It’s not as if it’s completely unbelievable given the state of the world.”

            “Still…”

            “Not doing this again, kid. I did try to stay as faithful to the source material as possible. I simply…seasoned it taste.”

            “But…

            “Come on, Jordan! Think of the firm. We have a certain freedom with this story that the mainstream media can’t even touch. There’s no way a story this juicy will fit into somebody’s character-limited Tweet or something. This is a small journalistic victory for us.”

            Joy opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it when she realized not a cohesive word came out.

            “And, don’t worry. We’ll blame the anonymous interviewee; their credibility is in question due to their anonymity, anyway.”

            Joy simply stared at the man.

            “I know, I know, but please.”

            Without a proper retort, Joy sulked back into her seat, reluctantly ready for whatever the mentor had planned next.

            With her tongue sticking out to the side, Joy eagerly scribbled down every word she physically could as Danso defensively barfed out words on the podium.

            “All of our public teachers in Edwards county are exceptional and certainly deserve a raise, but sadly, there is just not enough money to give them a just raise,” Danso slurred out as she quickly tapped her fingers on the podium, “However, as superintendent, I feel it is just that I earn a raise after my intensive efforts in last to make each school a world class experience for students and staff alike.”

            “You call getting Coca-Cola vending machines in every school ‘intensive efforts to make a world class experience?!’ Give me a break!” yelled a malcontent man from the audience.

            “Yeah, and what do you have to say about censoring your staff?!” screeched another irritable man in the crowd.

            “And the shady police involvement?!” yelled a cantankerous woman among the room of rowdy reporters.

            Joy’s eyes grew into a faint bulge as she took in the scene of hecklers harassing the stout lady on-stage.

            “Wow,” Joy awed as she briefly put down her pencil and notepad to loll her head around the auditorium, “I’m at a real press meeting! Even representatives from the big guys like ABC are here. Isn’t this interesting, Zach?”

            With his arms crossed and eyes half-open, Zach lightly chuckled. “You’re finally getting the hang of my name, Judy, but if you think this is interesting, you see Daisy in her awful leggings on casual Friday.”

            “People, please,” Danso began, “I can ensure you that I had no involvement in the teachers’ unwillingness to speak nor how the police handled the teacher who wishes to remain anonymous. I made some mistakes, but rest assured, I am working to fix them and make things right.”

            The crowd erupted in anger.

            As the sky dimmed to dusk, a red sedan parked near the entrance of the Sunfield News Firm, but not before taking a quick detour to the outer edges of the parking lot to lightly dent into a blue minivan with a bumper sticker that read “BEST MOM DAISY.”

            Removing the keys from the ignition, Zach turned over to his underling, who was chowing down on a disproportionately large burger for her tiny physique.

            “You sure can eat, kid,” Zach jokingly stated as he placed his keys into his pocket.

            “You really didn’t have to get me this,” Joy attempted to articulate with an amalgamation of burger clomps in her mouth.

            “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Jill. Don’t worry about it, though. Think of it as a reward for sticking with me through that mess of closed press conference since I don’t pay you.”

            “Thank you,” Joy said as she finished chewing the last quarter of her burger. Upon wiping her hands clean of the remaining ketchup with a napkin, she picked up her large-sized cup of water from the cup holder and gulped everything down in one sip.

            “Jeez, kid. Eat any faster and you might throw up,” Zach duly noted.

            “Sorry.”

            “Okay, so how are the notes you took at the conference?”

            With haste, Joy snatched her notebook from her backpack resting on the floor and flipped to her notes from earlier in the day.

            “Yup! I wrote down everything I could,” she chirped as she handed over the book to Zach.

            Quickly flipping through the pages, a he began to contort his face into a mischievous smile. “Oh yes,” he chortled, “’Akosua Danso: An Awful Human Being that Condones Police Brutality and Power Abuse!’”

            “She practically admitted to nothing,” Joy defensively rebutted, “The fact that she was so vague is what worked up the crowd in the first place.”

            “But, we need a beefy companion piece to stay relevant!” Zach exclaimed as his once mischievous face grew slightly more somber.

            “NO! We can’t just twist somebody’s words like that, no matter how awful they seem. We have to stay unbiased. The Society of Profess—”

            “Jen, Jen, Jen. I’m not one for just downright twisting people’s words, but the big guys were also there at that closed event. Don’t you think we need some sort of edge against them?”

            Joy felt an uncomfortable sensation in her stomach as she was confronted with Zach’s words. She put her hands to her hair and bended down as she stewed over Zach’s argument.

            “Kid,” Zach began once more, “that last article did so much for the Sunfield News Firm. We have to follow up with an article twice as insane if we wish to keep the momentum going. Besides, we did technically get the information from a firsthand source. We just…paraphrased what Danso had to say.”

            The dubious callousness of Zach’s journalistic integrity was enough to amplify the discomfort in Joy’s stomach, and the twirling of her hair was an ineffective distraction.

            “Josie, I want this to work out for the both of us, so will you please work with me?”

            Joy swallowed down any guilt she felt and looked her mentor straight in the eyes. “Okay.”

            “Great, kid.”

             Suddenly, the discomfort in Joy’s stomach turned to rumbling. In the spur of the moment, she took the empty paper bag that once held her burger and brought it to her mouth, letting everything go.

            As the sky dimmed to dusk, a red sedan parked near the entrance of the Sunfield News Firm, but not before taking a quick detour to the outer edges of the parking lot to lightly dent into a blue minivan with a bumper sticker that read “BEST MOM DAISY.”

            Removing the keys from the ignition, Zach turned over to his underling, who was chowing down on a disproportionately large burger for her tiny physique.

            “You sure can eat, kid,” Zach jokingly stated as he placed his keys into his pocket.

            “You really didn’t have to get me this,” Joy attempted to articulate with an amalgamation of burger clomps in her mouth.

            “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Jill. Don’t worry about it, though. Think of it as a reward for sticking with me through that mess of closed press conference since I don’t pay you.”

            “Thank you,” Joy said as she finished chewing the last quarter of her burger. Upon wiping her hands clean of the remaining ketchup with a napkin, she picked up her large-sized cup of water from the cup holder and gulped everything down in one sip.

            “Jeez, kid. Eat any faster and you might throw up,” Zach duly noted.

            “Sorry.”

            “Okay, so how are the notes you took at the conference?”

            With haste, Joy snatched her notebook from her backpack resting on the floor and flipped to her notes from earlier in the day.

            “Yup! I wrote down everything I could,” she chirped as she handed over the book to Zach.

            Quickly flipping through the pages, a he began to contort his face into a mischievous smile. “Oh yes,” he chortled, “’Akosua Danso: An Awful Human Being that Condones Police Brutality and Power Abuse!’”

            “She practically admitted to nothing,” Joy defensively rebutted, “The fact that she was so vague is what worked up the crowd in the first place.”

            “But, we need a beefy companion piece to stay relevant!” Zach exclaimed as his once mischievous face grew slightly more somber.

            “NO! We can’t just twist somebody’s words like that, no matter how awful they seem. We have to stay unbiased. The Society of Profess—”

            “Jen, Jen, Jen. I’m not one for just downright twisting people’s words, but the big guys were also there at that closed event. Don’t you think we need some sort of edge against them?”

            Joy felt an uncomfortable sensation in her stomach as she was confronted with Zach’s words. She put her hands to her hair and bended down as she stewed over Zach’s argument.

            “Kid,” Zach began once more, “that last article did so much for the Sunfield News Firm. We have to follow up with an article twice as insane if we wish to keep the momentum going. Besides, we did technically get the information from a firsthand source. We just…paraphrased what Danso had to say.”

            The dubious callousness of Zach’s journalistic integrity was enough to amplify the discomfort in Joy’s stomach, and the twirling of her hair was an ineffective distraction.

            “Josie, I want this to work out for the both of us, so will you please work with me?”

            Joy swallowed down any guilt she felt and looked her mentor straight in the eyes. “Okay.”

            “Great, kid.”

             Suddenly, the discomfort in Joy’s stomach turned to rumbling. In the spur of the moment, she took the empty paper bag that once held her burger and brought it to her mouth, letting everything go.

            Joy traversed with her hands on the strap of her backpack through the long corridors of the firm walk on her way to Zach’s cubicle. Her gaze never leaving her sneakers, she allowed her face to crunch into a grimace.

            I can’t keep doing this day-in and day-out she thought to herself as she continued her lethargic walk through the office. Yeah, we’ve been having moderate success, but—

            Unable to allow herself to finish the thought, she took her hands and ran them through her hair.

            Is this what it means to report the news in the twenty-first century? Maybe, I should just quit while I’m ahe—

            “Joan!” hollered Zach from his distant cubicle, “you’ve gotta see this!”

            Joy snapped out of her slump and dashed over to the sight of her mentor furiously scrolling through the flashy posts of his Twitter feed. Somewhat puzzled by the sight before her, Joy trudged her way to Zach’s desk.

            “Yes, Zach?”

            “Danso had a confrontation with the teacher that was supposedly mishandled by the police. The confrontation de-evolves into racial slurs, and now everyone’s tweeting about it.”

            Joy took a seat in the chair beside Zach and adjusted her glasses as she read everything the page had to offer, some posts more vitriolic than others.

            “Oh my…” Joy whispered as she scrolled through the page.

            “Well, kid. It’s time to cook up something spicy!”

            “Without any research?” Joy questioned, crossing her arms and keeping her head down.

            “Jan,” Zach exhaled, “Social media’s already on it, which means the guys on top aren’t to far behind. We gotta move.”

            “No.”

            “What did you say, kid?” Zach asked, turning his head toward Joy.

            “No. I can’t do this anymore.”

            Zach briefly froze, stunned by the sudden burst of confidence his intern had just displayed.

            “I can’t cover this story,” Joy said without stutter, standing up while doing so.

            “Wha—”

            “I can’t cover this story the way you’re going about this.”

            “Kid, you’re being ridiculous.”

            “No,” Joy spat back, her voice falling into a tremor, “you’re being ridiculous. You made up sources, twisted somebody’s words, and prepared to write stuff without research!”

            “Kid, we’re on a time crunch,” Zach shot back.

            “So? Does that excuse throwing out our morals? Our job is to relay reliable information, not throw together something for the sake of a deadline!”

            “Do you think I don’t know that, kid? Do you think I don’t go home everyday and beat myself up for the fact that my job is the worst it has been?”

            “I understand, but—”

            “Shut it, kid. No, you don’t understand.”

            Joy’s eyes bulged in shock from the sudden sharpness in Zach’s words.

            “Day-in, day-out,” Zach ranted, “I have to deal with the fact that I have to compete with the guys from ABC. Daily, I have to live knowing people would rather listen to some self-proclaimed commentator on Twitter than me. Constantly, I have to throw out something to get any kind of visibility, no matter how crummy it is.”

            Joy shrank back a little, her hands grasping onto her hair. “Zach, I—"

            “Kid, the industry isn’t like it was twenty years ago. Of course, I want to write some good honest journalism, but sometimes, that just isn’t an option, and you have to deal with it.”

            Joy suddenly directed her body toward the exit. Her hands limped, and her eyes shut as she made her way to the cubicle’s exit.

            “Hey, where’re you going, Jude?” Zach questioned as he rotated his entire body toward the teenager.

            “I think I’m done for the day,” Joy replied in a meek voice walking out of the cubicle, “I just need to go out for a bit.”

            “Kid, wait!” Zach fruitlessly shouted, his intern already far from sight. With no person in sight, Zach orientated his chair so that he was once again facing his desktop. He laid still for a moment before abruptly slamming his head into the keyboard. The man indulged in the rough keys to the point of light dents in his forehead. His finger made its way to his head and began a vain search for hairs to fondle. He eventually dropped his hands back to his desk in frustration and simply sat in brooding.

            With the pain of the keys finally seeping in, Zach slowly lifted his head from its slump. His eyes began to idle about the room, searching for anything of interest. He took a pause once they landed on a picture frame on one of the filing cabinets. The framed photo captured a gawky smiling man with full set of fluffy brown hair. Zach’s face grew into a pout as he tried to cover his bare head. Zach’s pout only grew wider when he read the certificate the man in the photo was holding: Greens College of Liberal Arts herby confers upon Zac Watersun the Degree of Bachelor’s in Communications and Journalism.

            “Twits couldn’t even spell my name right,” Zach grumbled from the depths of his breath, “Some university.”

            Zach’s pout melted into contemplativeness he focused on the photograph. The genuine smile that the photographed young man held suddenly made him lightly chuckle.

            “I remember,” he snickered, crossing his arms, “so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to get into the heart of journalism.”

            His laughing slowed as he pondered on his words. The man turned his head toward the window behind him. As the afternoon sun washed over him, he slowly inhaled the stiff air.

            “I need to go out and clear my head out,” Zach puffed, “I can’t think with that moron Daisy and her revolting fried butter stinking up the air.”

            Hands traversing through her hair, Joy moped through the streets of the Sunfield Plaza, her backpack not helping with her posture. Her walking was automatic, only ever taking a break to kick the small pebble in her path’s way.

            Just have to stroll for a few more hours, she thought, Mom and Dad’s barrage of questions would never end if I decided to come home ear—

            Her stupor was interrupted by faint crowd mutterings. The teenager came to halt, allocating all her attention to the horde of voices. The longer she analyzed the noise, the rowdier it seemed to become. Curious as to the source of the seeming ruckus, the girl straightened herself and let her ears guide her.

            Joy’s face grew agape when she caught sight of what laid before her: a riot of unruly protestors holding signs that read slogans such as Down with Danso, We are Wage Warriors, and TEACHERS ARE NOT SLAVES. The voices only grew louder, and before Joy could conduct further investigation, her light body was pushed into the crowd. Her momentum bumped her into various people until she slammed into a blonde plump woman. Joy’s face lit up in recognition as she faced up to see the woman’s face.

            “Mrs. Johnson? What’s going on?”

            “Well, if it isn’t my favorite writer!” the older woman cheerily replied, “We’re just holding a peaceful protest.”

            Joy hastily ducked, a large sneaker narrowly missing her head. Fear lingered on her face as she stood up again and looked straight at her English teacher.

            “It was supposed to be peaceful. The teachers in Edwards County were to meet here in the Sunfield Plaza today to mark the beginning of a peaceful strike. We are making a statement against Superintendent Danso’s corrupt nature. We fight for her impeachment and fair bonuses for teachers.”

            Joy nodded her head as she began searching in her backpack. “I see.”

            “Turns out people are much more passionate about this than I thought,” she answered as she put her picket sign down and looked into the crowd, “I’m afraid that things are only going to get worse.”

            “Only going to get worse,” Joy quietly murmured, swiftly scribbling down onto a notepad.

            “Ah, is this part of your internship at the Sunfield News Firm?” the plump woman said, directing her attention toward Joy again.

            “Truth be told,” Joy slyly remarked as she tapped her pencil on her chin, “I didn’t intend to walk into such a story. It just kind of happened.”

            “But, it’s good to come prepared!” both of them shouted at the same time, bursting into a light chuckle as they did so.

            Joy pushed on her glasses as she regained her composure. “Well, I’m off to go interview some more people. Can’t miss a break like this, ma’am!”

            “Alright. Bye, sweetie,” Mrs. Johnson delicately said as she waved at the running girl.

            “…So, Danso can throw out as many sob stories as she wants about her sad upbringing, but I have no reason to care if she doesn’t even try to treat us like human beings for goodness sake.”

            Joy eagerly nodded at the man’s words as she quickly copied them down onto her notepad. The man simply looked at her intense writing for a moment before returning to his tirade.

            “I’m sick and tired of being treated like a second-class citizen despite my job laying the groundwork for the future. Danso is a scam of a woman and deserves to have every single one of her privileges revoked.”

            “Wow,” Joy uttered as she scribed the last sentence into the notepad, “I think you’re the most passionate person I’ve spoken to so far.”

            “Six’s my number,” the man snarked with crossed arms.

            Joy giggled in response. “Thank you so much for your time!”

            “Not a problem,” the man said, quirkily snapping with each syllable.

            Before Joy’s eyes could lock onto another target, she heard a sharp feminine voice that brought the crowd to silence.

            “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET, YOU PIECE OF CRAP,” the shrill voice yelled as it punctured the air.

            Joy quickly rushed to the origins of the piercing voice, occasionally piping out an “Excuse me!” when she accidently bumped into a bystander. At the scene, she became a witness to an injured Akosua Danso on the tiles with groceries in hand as a flushed woman with a stocky build surrounded her.

            “YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST STEAL OUR MONEY AND LET THE POLICE BEAT ME UP,” she screamed to the point of voice cracks, “WELL THEN, YOU DON’T KNOW THE REAL MELISSA JONES!”

            Although her head remained still, Joy’s hands danced with her pencil along her notepad, recording every detail she could. Joy’s eyes only widened more when she saw the woman deliver a kick to the shin of the bruised superintendent.

            Before the flushed woman could deliver another attack, the sound of police sirens filled the atmosphere prompting the woman to make a run for it. However, the woman’s impaired movement was no match for the urgency of the police officers exiting from two police cars.

            A police man with a megaphone from yet another car came to the center of the plaza surrounded by two more officers.

            “WE’RE BREAKING UP THIS PROTEST, IT’S BECOMING HAZARDOUS!”

            “Wow,” Joy awed to herself, “Six real interviews from teachers, live coverage on an arrest, and a witness account of a protest gone sour? I should try sulking in frustration more often.”

            Distracted by all the notes she took, Joy failed to notice the person in her way and bumped into him.

            “Ohmigosh, sorry, sir—” Joy stopped herself when she saw the distinct bald head glistening in sunset.

            “Wow, kid, I’m impressed with what you were able to accomplish out there,” the man complimented.

            “Zach?” Joy gasped, “How long have you been here?”

            “Uhh…” Zach pondered, “Probably for ‘bout an hour at this point. I haven’t seen such enthusiasm for journalism in Sunfield in nearly a decade. I couldn’t help but not look.”

            “Um, Z-Zach,” the girl stuttered, “I need to apologize for what I did earlier today. It was out-of-line for me to react the way I—”

            “Shut it, kid. I don’t want an apology. You said exactly what you needed to say.”

            “I did?”

            “Yeah. Walk with me.”

            The two began the stroll back to the news firm, carrying light conversation while doing so.

            Zach ran a finger through his self-proclaimed beard as he looked at the teenager to his left. “You know, you remind me of myself when I first came out of college into the industry.”

            “Clumsy, weird, and janky?’ Joy inquired while making eye contact with her advisor.

            “Wha—I don’t even know what a ‘janky’ is! No, I meant just the youthful love for the art of journalism. Just seeing you out there after everything that’s happened today, it was something.”

            “Aw, thank you!”

            “So, how about when we get back to the firm we write an article using your notes, this time with no catches?”

            “I don’t know. I saw people pulling out their phones throughout the event. I would imagine Twitter and Facebook is already all over it, and the bigger news sites like ABC and NBC won’t be too far behind.”

            “No, this time we’re writing for the sake of getting a truthful story out. Views are secondary.”

            Joy simply closed her eyes and smiled at Zach, with him returning the gesture.

            “We definitely got sloppy seconds in terms of views, but we actually got a comment!”

Upon hearing this, Joy quickly rolled her chair over to Zach’s desktop, and her face elated upon reading comment left by a person under the alias ‘Samuel A.’

            “This story is very thorough and captures a side to the story other sources haven’t been able to: a human side. It’s good to see that good honest journalism still exists in this world!” Joy read aloud jittering up and down in her chair.

            “You’ve done good, kid. You’ve done good.”

            Zach suddenly stood from his chair and made his leave from the cubicle. Joy quickly stood and followed, being sure to grab her backpack resting by the exit.

            Strolling through the corridors, Joy cleared her throat and asked, “Where are you going?”

            “I’m in a good mood, Joy,” Zach calmly let out in one breath.

            A shriek could be heard from the one if the rooms as a smile grew on Zach’s face. “I gave Daisy what she deserved by putting superglue in an empty doughnut box.”

            “Uhh…” Joy drew out.

            “But, more importantly, for the first time in years, I’ve felt good about an article that came out of here, so I’m taking you to that burger joint you love so much to celebrate.”

            “Really?”

            “Yup! But that article we got out was only the start. Between the recent arrest of Melissa Jones, the tension between the teachers and police, and the investigation into Danso, the story’s just getting started! This is going to be a good internship!”

            “Wait…you did it!”

            “Did what?

            “You got my name right!”

            “What are you talking about? I always get it right, Joyce.”

            “Never mind. We still need to work on that.”

            “Whatever,” he groaned as he pushed the doors of the firm. Joy just lightly chuckled as she pushed the glass doors open for her and Zach.