Mousey babies, remember to wear a hat next time you go out.
"Ugh, why'd Julian run off so fast? Jenna, why'd you have to out me? His way of petting cats was honestly amazing—want to experience that again…"
Jenna Carter's face was all cool detachment. "I was asking how you got out. Where's Mira?"
Only then did Jade Hayes remember the task at hand. "Mira told me to send you back first—don't worry about this place. She found something else inside and needs to stay to investigate."
Jenna didn't press for details. Maybe it was because when he dated Rowan Tate years ago he'd had so many whys that never got answered; he'd come to expect no explanations. He felt unworthy of them.
Northridge was good to him—people treated him well—and he'd more than once imagined what it would be like to be a Fae himself, so he could fit in without reservations.
Mira's tolerance probably came because of Ollie. Ordinary humans didn't get any softness from her, so he kept his questions to himself; it only made him look foolish to pry.
Now that Julian knew he existed, Jenna didn't bother hiding herself. She stayed close by so Julian could always see her.
It was only then Julian realized Jenna had been shadowing him the whole time, a near-constant shield that practically shut Shane Keane out.
A night had passed, and Shane's condition hadn't improved—if anything, he'd gotten worse.
The power that usually thrummed inside him felt nearly gone. He hadn't fallen asleep willingly the previous evening; something had forced him into unconsciousness. What happened in that blackout, he didn't know. When he woke, his whole body felt like it had been filled with lead, and somewhere out of his sight, a storm of blood and betrayal was quietly gathering.
An 18th-tier actor who'd long since faded from the scene, Liam Reed, suddenly posted on Instagram accusing Shane of sabotaging a stunt rig on a past shoot. He claimed the wire rigging snapped and he fell, shattering his left leg—leaving him unable to act again.
Back then Liam had kept quiet because he lacked proof. Now, by chance, he said he'd gotten the crew's surveillance footage—clearly showing Shane and an assistant who'd been fired a year earlier tampering with the rig.
Most alarming, Liam tagged the fired assistant's account at the end of his post and warned that the assistant might be in danger now.
Usually a post like this wouldn't blow up so fast. But Memory Tour was airing right now, and several stars from that show had been living in the trending lists these past days. Any seeded topic would get traction.
Also, some fans suspected Liam had found a powerful backer—otherwise he wouldn't have been able to get footage the production absolutely wouldn't hand out.
On one side was an out-of-work, barely-known actor; on the other, a rising star with decent buzz. There was no reason to anger Shane for the sake of some alleged truth.
[Wow, this is getting good. Is another law-and-order pundit about to dive in? Last time we had one it turned… uh, too bad for Jenna. I miss him.]
[Has it been ruled yet? My friend and I actually visited Jenna's grave last month. I don't even know what to say—hope he has a better life next time. So tragic.]
[This guy's had it rough. I remember his face—actually not bad-looking, way better than some really ugly dudes pretending to be pretty. Did that old stunt break his leg so bad he can't walk? Is that why he vanished?]
[Orthopedist here. Looked at the report he posted—this degree of fracture has basically zero chance of a full recovery. Even if it heals, he'll probably need crutches to walk. He's out of any physically demanding jobs, so acting and other labor gigs are basically off the table.]
[Hey—what's the streamer doing? Why don't you go live and tell us what you know about that shoot and the industry dirt? We'd watch and tip.]
[Don't. Going live now would look like a cash grab and would hurt the credibility of these accusations. Follow the lawyers' instructions.]
[Did he call the cops? Any verdict? All I'm seeing is one side of the story. What if someone's out to get Shane?]
[Exactly. He's been getting great work lately—jealous people exist. This feels pretty shady.]
Shane's fans scrambled to control the narrative, even hiring astroturfers and trying to track down who might be behind it.
The only person who really knew Shane's true face might have been that missing former assistant. Even the publicist didn't know what he was like behind closed doors.
The publicist had tried the assistant's phone, hoping to negotiate—demand money or find out what they wanted—but the calls wouldn't go through.
Shane had plenty of enemies in the industry. Lots of male stars had clashed with him over money and favors. Everyone saw an opportunity and jumped.
But most of Shane's schemes left no hard evidence—the kind of spooky manipulation that erased footage or altered outcomes. This time, though, there was someone from Precinct One quietly pulling strings.
When you use magical arts to hide proof, it's true you can obscure things—but nobody is perfect. Captain Harper believed even mystic cover-ups left gaps.
Shane was a celebrity; even if they could prove, through the mystic layer, that he'd done something, they still had to give the public an explanation. So Harper asked people to comb through Shane's past, and they eventually found a weak spot.
Liam had once been close to a stagehand on that shoot. The stagehand had warned him he might be on surveillance, and offered to turn over the footage as evidence. He'd planned to help, but had been warned off before he could act.
The actor understood; he was ruined, and the stagehand had a job and a life. Nobody would risk losing work for someone they'd barely known for a few weeks.
But then the stagehand jokingly said, "I did back up a copy. I can't give it to you now, but if you ever find yourself with some backup of your own, maybe I can help."
Liam had left the industry thinking he'd never find a backer to stand up to someone like Shane—until Captain Harper's team showed up.
Shane had always kept his mask on very well—even his closest publicist didn't know the real him. The publicist's hired astroturfers were working overtime to spin the story.
[Doesn't this look familiar? Like two years ago…]
[Yeah. The fans went crazy last time too, same talking points. But how did it end? Heh, popcorn ready.]
[Wait—I remember that crash from before was because someone was secretly snacking on spicy strips during a live. Now Shane's scandal ties back to that same variety show? Something's solidifying here.]
[LOL Ollie is basically a magnet for scandal. Babe, if you keep this up, which celebrity will dare go on a show with you?]
[Omg that's brilliant—get a sponsor to launch a custom reality food show starring Ollie. Invite everyone in the industry, from hottest to has-beens. The guilty ones would flop on camera, the scared ones would stay away. Test them all!]
[Brilliant—if someone crashes on camera, we've got evidence. If they don't show, we know they're shady. Doing public service, I see. #JusticeBloggers]
[Hold up—is that realistic? Even if Ollie said yes, Caleb would never. He's always watching him like a hawk. Caleb wouldn't let Ollie loose in a food show where he can just snack his way into trouble.]
[Lol Ollie's no saint. He's barely holding it together—Ollie fans, maybe glance at the trending list before hyping up the justice blogger. He's kinda a law-and-order stan himself.]
Ollie's fans were puzzled—how did any of this involve him?
He's the kind of guy who needs Caleb's permission just to open a bag of chips; how could he be tied to anything criminal?
The conversation jumped to the trending column, where a flaming hot tag sat at number one.
#RisingStarSpottedAtClubWithPossibleBacker
Tapping the tag showed one blurred paparazzi shot. It was grainy enough to make his mother's face unrecognizable, but when you zoomed in, the subject was obvious—especially once you noticed his signature gray hair.
One photo showed Ollie with a suit jacket draped over his arm—a jacket he wouldn't normally wear—standing outside a high-end club in Ashford City. Another showed him waving to someone in a luxury car; the jacket was gone by then.
The car wasn't cheap: a Maybach global limited edition with only twenty made. Dig a little deeper and you could find the owner.
The account posting the photos was obviously a clickbait account; the caption screamed for engagement. But comments weren't going the way the poster hoped.
[Aw, he's so precious holding that jacket like a kid holding his parent's coat.]
[Could you crop better? I don't recall him wearing that jacket. Who's this clickbait account kidding?]
[When was this? He still had time to go out at night? Isn't Caleb supposed to watch him so he doesn't sneak snacks?]
[Of course he was meeting a backer. Lose the financier and he's out of work—what would Caleb live off?]
[It's from Sept 28—his other dates are verified. Weird that night, though.]
[Wait, Sept 28? That can't be right. Didn't he go to the downtown food alley that night? I actually ran into him and we took a selfie. He gave me a Lex Song autograph as hush money so I wouldn't tell anyone. Wink.]
(Author's note and other postscript material omitted.)
Half-Summer Novels, feels a lot happier.