Chapter 53: Celebrities and Crime
Fox Television Center, Channel 11 Reception.
Hawk turned his laptop screen toward Megan Taylor and said, "My source tracked down the woman Dwayne Johnson saved. She recorded this video to publicly thank him."
Megan squinted at the pixelated, blurred face on the screen. "No unedited version?"
Hawk shook his head. "She wants to maintain her privacy and avoid media harassment."
Megan crossed her arms, lightly tapping her left arm with her right hand. "The price difference between a blurred face and a clear one is significant."
Hawk spread his hands. "What do you expect me to do? Your show doesn’t want a lawsuit for violating someone’s likeness rights, does it?"
Megan smirked. "Relax. Our legal team is top-notch."
"Doesn’t change the fact she doesn’t want to be bothered," Hawk countered. "Will the video make the headline?"
Megan mulled it over. "It doesn’t align perfectly with our top news theme, but I’ll reserve some airtime after the main story.""I watched yesterday’s episode," Hawk added. "The theme of crime spreading to Westside affluent neighborhoods was great. Felt more like social news, though."
Megan’s eyes gleamed with ambition. "Hollywood stars tied to crime syndicates—that’s the real gold mine. You could still dig into Robert Downey Jr.’s story. Like, who were his dealers? Were other celebrities involved? Is there a sprawling drug network? Rumor has it there are secret organizations within Hollywood…"
Hawk cut her off. "I’m here to make money, not risk my life."
Megan stared at him for a moment before relenting. "Fine. But keep an ear out for stories like that. We’d pay top dollar."
"Depends on my luck," Hawk said, transferring the video onto a storage drive provided by Channel 11.
After negotiating, they settled on $2,000 for the story. Since the video was just a derivative piece with a blurred face, it was worth much less than the original.
As Megan prepared to leave, she turned back. "If you can rope in more celebrities for news like this, bring it to me."
Hawk wasn’t surprised she had pieced things together. "As long as the price is right."
Megan nodded. "And don’t forget—celebrity crime stories."
Back in the car, Hawk recalled a persistent rumor about Winona Ryder allegedly stealing from a film festival in Sundance. Pulling out his laptop, he searched for updates. The story had indeed gone viral online, but no conclusive evidence had emerged.
Given the fierce competition, Hawk decided not to dive into the chaos.
After signing the agreement and pocketing the $2,000 check, he received a call from Dani Garcia, who inquired about the progress. Hawk quickly explained the situation. The thank-you video would keep the buzz alive, segueing perfectly into Dwayne’s upcoming talk show appearance and building momentum for The Scorpion King release.
On his way to a Beverly Hills accounting firm recommended by Dwayne, Hawk sighed at the complexities of U.S. tax law. With tax season in full swing, he knew avoiding the IRS was non-negotiable.
After leaving the firm, Edward called, shouting into the phone, "Boss! A source just told me Britney Spears is having a public argument with her dad. I’m heading there now!"
Hawk bolted to his car. "Where?"
"West Olympic Boulevard, Beverly Wood!"
When Hawk arrived, the area was swarming with photographers and reporters—at least thirty of them. Britney and her father had already retreated to a van, while paparazzi swarmed the vehicle.
Resigned to the lack of exclusivity, Hawk didn’t bother pushing through the crowd. Instead, he climbed onto a nearby planter for a better view.
A familiar voice greeted him. "Too late, buddy. Nothing hot left."
Hawk glanced down and recognized the reporter he had met during the Robert Downey Jr. incident. "Daniel Richards?"
"That’s me," Daniel said, approaching. "Forgot to get your name last time."
"Hawk Osmond," Hawk introduced himself as he climbed down.
Daniel smiled. "I was first on the scene. Got enough footage to make at least $5,000."
With a wave, Daniel added, "Catch you later—I’ve got money to make."
His tone carried a hint of boastfulness, perhaps a subtle jab at their previous encounter.
Edward soon emerged from the chaos, his face glistening with sweat. "It’s insane! These people are like wild animals. Nothing like the elegance of our setups—it’s pure madness."
"Did you get anything?" Hawk asked.
Edward shook his head. "By the time I arrived, the argument was over. All I got were shots of them getting into the van. Not worth much."
Hawk reviewed the images on the camera. "Not worth it. Let’s go."
Back at the studio, Hawk tossed Edward a water bottle and asked, "The tip came from a source?"
Edward gulped down half the bottle before replying, "Yeah, but by the time they called, reporters were already there. I was late."
Grateful for Hawk’s generosity in other areas, Edward lamented, "Burned gas money and a $20 tip for the source. Nothing to show for it."
"Business has its ups and downs," Hawk said calmly.
Edward, drained from the experience, reflected, "We’ve covered plenty of tips from sources, but none of them have led to exclusives. Relying on tips feels unreliable."
Hawk agreed. "The highest payout from a source-based story was $280—the one you shot."
Edward crunched the numbers mentally but gave up halfway. "Relying on tips alone won’t make us much. Might as well specialize in divorced women with kids. Less running, more… other work."
"Developing tips from the public is a gamble," Hawk explained. "Sometimes, luck strikes, and you get a big story."
"Luck doesn’t favor Black men," Edward quipped, his confidence bolstered by recent earnings. "Boss, depending on tips is pointless. We need to manufacture news. Self-made stories are the way forward."
Hawk nodded. "Opportunities arise, but we must seize them." He pulled out an invitation. "The Scorpion King premiere. I can bring a plus-one. You’re coming, so get a suit."
Edward immediately protested. "No way! I hate suits!"
Hawk smirked. "What if you meet a divorced Hollywood star with kids?"
Edward straightened up. "Boss, you need a proper assistant to carry your bag."
Hawk turned serious. "You should learn more. At the very least, improve your math skills. The studio can’t stay stuck at just manufacturing news."
Edward slumped into a chair. "Just kill me now."
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