The screen in front of Michael replayed a clip again, not because he needed to see it twice, but because he wanted to watch how it moved. Not the content itself. Not the boy, not the road, not even the moment that had pulled everything together. He was watching the reaction around it. The way attention behaved when it wasn't forced.
His office was quiet, controlled, the kind of quiet that came from years of decisions being made in that room without noise. The glass walls were tinted just enough to keep the city outside from interfering. Morning had already passed into afternoon, but the light hadn't shifted much inside. Everything stayed the same here unless he wanted it to change.
Clara stood across from him, tablet in hand, waiting.
She had already given him the summary. Engagement numbers. Spread velocity. Geographic distribution. Names of platforms where the traction was highest. The data was clean. Organized. Exactly what she know Michael understood everything in few details.
