Vanessa's POV
I threw my phone at the wall when it wouldn't stop buzzing at 3 AM.
The screen cracked as it hit the ground, but even broken, I could still see the messages lighting up like fireworks. Text after text, call after call, email after email. Something was very wrong.
I stumbled out of bed and picked up my phone, looking at the damaged screen. Seventeen missed calls from the record company. Twenty-three texts from reporters. Forty-one social media messages.
All about Joan.
My heart started rushing as I opened the first message. It was from David Martinez, the head of Joan's record label, and it was just two words: "Call me. NOW."
I tried calling him back, but my phone kept freezing because of the cracked screen. I grabbed my laptop and opened my email instead. The subject lines made my stomach drop.
"Joan Robert Scandal - Need Statement ASAP" "Bullying Video Response Required" "URGENT: Joan Robert Damage Control"
Bullying video? What bullying video?
With shaking hands, I clicked on a link one of the reporters had sent me. A video started playing, and I watched my biggest client's business explode right in front of my eyes.
Joan was standing next to a young girl who was clearly upset. The girl asked innocent questions about getting into music, and Joan replied with the cruelest, most heartless answers I had ever heard.
"The music business is competitive. Not everyone can make it, and that's just truth. You have to be prepared for failure and keep pushing forward anyway."
But the way Joan said it in the video sounded so cold and mean. Like she was enjoying crushing this poor girl's dreams.
This couldn't be right. Joan wasn't like this. She was actually one of the kindest people I had ever worked with. She contributed to charities, visited sick kids in hospitals, and always treated her fans with respect.
But the movie looked real. It sounded real. And people were sharing it everywhere.
I looked through the comments and felt sick:
"Joan Robert is a monster" "She needs to be canceled" "Poor Tiana didn't deserve this" "Never buying her music again"
The video already had over two million views, and it had only been shared four hours ago.
My phone rang, making me jump. The caller ID showed David Martinez again.
"Vanessa, thank God," he said before I could even say hello. "Please tell me you have a plan to fix this."
"David, I just woke up. What exactly am I looking at here?"
"You're looking at a PR disaster that could destroy our entire company. Joan Robert, our biggest star, is being seen as a bully by millions of people. The hashtag #JoanRobertIsABully is trending global."
I pulled up Twitter on my notebook and saw he was right. The phrase was everywhere, with thousands of people sharing their own stories about mean celebrities and calling for Joan to be "canceled."
"This has to be fake," I said. "Joan would never talk to a fan like this."
"Fake or not, it's destroying her image by the minute. Every major news outlet is picking up the story. Entertainment Tonight, People Magazine, Rolling Stone - they all want comments from us."
"What do they want me to say?"
"I don't know! That's why you're her boss! Figure out how to fix this!"
The line went dead, leaving me looking at my laptop screen as more and more people shared the video. Joan's fan pages were filling up with angry comments from people who used to love her.
I tried calling Joan, but her phone went straight to voicemail. She was probably still asleep, having no idea that her world was coming apart.
My email kept pinging with new messages. Every reporter in the country wanted a statement from Joan. Radio stations were asking if she would come on to apologize. TV shows wanted her to make a statement.
But what could she possibly say? The video showed her being rude to a young fan. Even if she apologized, would anyone believe she was really sorry?
I found myself watching the video again, trying to figure out how this could have happened. Joan had always been careful about her public picture. She never said anything controversial, never got into fights with other people, never gave the press any reason to attack her.
But something felt wrong about the film. The lighting seemed off, and Joan's voice sounded strange in some parts. Like it had been taped separately and added later.
Could someone have changed this to make Joan look bad?
My phone rang again. This time it was a number I didn't recognize.
"Is this Vanessa Clarke, Joan Robert's manager?"
"Who is this?"
"My name is Marcus Bell. I'm a lawyer, and I defend Tiana Reed, the young woman in the video."
My blood went cold. "What do you want?"
"I want to discuss a deal. My client was traumatized by Miss Robert's behavior, and we're considering legal action for mental damage."
"Legal action? For what? Having a conversation?"
"For openly humiliating a young artist and crushing her dreams on camera. The video speaks for itself."
"That video has been edited," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure. "Joan didn't say those things the way they sound."
Marcus laughed, and it was the most awful sound I had ever heard. "Ms. Clarke, it doesn't matter what Joan actually said. What matters is what millions of people think they heard. And right now, they think Joan Robert is a cruel bully."
"What do you want?" I asked again.
"I want Joan to admit she was wrong, apologize publicly, and pay my client two million dollars for the damage to her reputation and emotional well-being."
"Two million dollars? Are you insane?"
"That's a small price compared to what this scandal is going to cost Joan's job. Think about it, Ms. Clarke. How much money will Joan lose when nobody wants to buy her records anymore?"
The line went dead, and I stared at my phone in shock. Someone was trying to destroy Joan and make money doing it.
I grabbed my laptop and watched the movie one more time, this time paying closer attention to the technical details. The more I looked, the more sure I became that this was fake.
The lighting on Joan's face didn't match the lighting on the girl. The audio quality changed slightly between different parts of their talk. Joan's lip movements didn't quite match with some of the words.
This was a setup. Someone had planned this whole thing to destroy Joan's career.
But as I looked at the millions of views and thousands of angry comments, I noticed something that made my stomach drop:
It didn't matter if the video was fake.
People thought it was real, and in the world of social media, belief was more powerful than truth.
Joan's career was over, and there might be nothing I could do to save it.
I was still looking at the laptop screen when my doorbell rang at 4 AM.
Who would be at my door at this hour?
I looked through the peephole and saw two guys in expensive suits standing on my doorstep. One of them looked familiar - it was Marcus Bell, the lawyer who had just called me.
How did he know where I lived?
The other man knocked on the door. "Ms. Clarke, we know you're in there. We need to talk Joan Robert's future."
My hands started shaking as I backed away from the door. These people had organized Joan's downfall, and now they were at my house in the middle of the night.
"We have a proposition for you," Marcus called through the door. "One that could save Joan's future. But you need to hear us out."
I didn't answer, but I could hear them talking quietly to each other outside.
"We know you care about Joan," the other man said. "We can make this issue disappear. We can restore her reputation and give her back her job. All we need is your help."
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Answer the door, Vanessa. Joan's life rests on it."
As I stood in my dark apartment with strangers outside my door and Joan's career burning down around us, one scary thought crossed my mind: This wasn't just about destroying Joan anymore.
Now they wanted something from me too.