Coffee in hand, messenger bag a ground weight on his shoulders, Clyde made his way to the underground station early in the morning as usual. 6:30 AM sharp, he was waiting in the crowd with his earbuds in, coffee still in hand, and bundled up in a cozy sweater, a thick jacket, and ready to face the day.

He rehearsed what he'd say a million times. He had the opportunity of a lifetime, being able to cover something that could absolutely explode and boost his career. Broad horizons? He could practically taste the sun with how big the story could possibly be for him.

He'd spent the last two nights cramming like he was back in college, studying for an exam. Countless records, countless vague articles... all about that company. Honestly, he himself couldn't put all the pieces together. Something did seem sketchy, the rumors weren't kidding.

Poor business practices... he mused mentally, a silent thought as he stepped onto the subway. He huddled to himself in the busy space, hand reaching up to hold onto the pole at the center of the space. Sounds a lot sketchier than a few people missing paychecks.

He shuffled over for a senior woman, smiling sheepishly.

"Sorry, ma'am."

The old woman just smiled at him, finding a seat someone had stood from to allow her to sit instead. There was a certain charm to Manhattan's busy life. So many things, so loud in its own, quiet, impersonal way.

The subway took off. Clyde felt the gentle rumble beneath his converse as he stared at nothing in particular, watching the lights of the underground tunnel pass through the windows.

He kept thinking about how he'd go about catching someone like you. Was it stalkerish? Maybe, but he did have to make an effort to figure out how to even talk to you. Sure, he did kind of stalk when someone made a coffee run on his behalf. And maybe made a note of times you'd been seen and interviewed out in public. He just had to hope his slightly-stalkerish studying would pay off. After all, he only had so little time to cover the story before it went cold and the sun vanished from his reach.

He had to admit to himself, though. Maybe it wasn't all professional interest. You... he couldn't describe it. He just felt interested by you. Not because of the company but because you were just... interesting? Maybe?

His cheeks warmed. He shook his head quickly, cooling himself off. No, no. Unprofessional. He shouldn't think like that, not when he's supposed to be objective and unbiased.

He tried to keep his mind off pictures he'd seen of you while searching through material in the nights before. Especially... Clyde suddenly coughed into his fist, cheeks heating once again and catching the attention of strangers nearby.

Especially not the pictures of your ass.

The eventual stop near the building finally came after a few more mental spirals. He squared his shoulders before joining the flood of people getting off the subway, filtering along with them up the stairs into the busy Manhattan street. He shivered in the breeze but pushed forward, taking a sip of his hopefully still warm coffee as he approached the familiar glass high-rise.

He'd settle. Check in with... oh, god, with Jean. Check in with Jean, make sure he knows his plan... maybe check over the questions he'd ask you? Yeah, yeah. Good plan. Don't make a total fool of yourself, Clyde.

He did the routine quick. Ran around between floors, checked in with the necessary people... grabbed his Press badge, and stumbled back out onto the Manhattan streets by noon like a man on a mission.

He'd catch you.

Beg for an interview, even if he had to look a little pathetic chasing you down.

He covered the area he'd planned. He tried to look friendly, just a curious journalist, not someone trying to get dirt, necessarily.

He spotted you.

He broke into a sprint, camera strap bouncing softly against his hip as he caught up to you.

"H-Hey! Mister! E-Excuse me!" he called out, sprinting faster before catching up to you, winded.

He glanced up briefly.

Oh shit. Don't look at his ass.

He straightened up too quickly, light headed and dazed. He held up a finger as he caught his breath, pleading for just a second.

He cleared his throat before looking at you, a slightly begging expression on his face. "H-Hi! M-My name is Clyde. Clyde Montgomery- I-I'm a reporter- journalist- w-whatever. For CNN? I have some questions about recent rumors about your company." The words rolled out quicker than intended.

He shifted awkwardly, ready to chase you again if you told him to leave. He needed to be persistent. He reached back in his pocket, clicking his voice recorder on.

"I-I just have a few questions about your company- the rumors about your business practices? If you could just give me a few minutes of your time, sir, I'd love to get your insight..."