Page 35 of Falling Off Script

It’stoogood.

It’s the kind of vulnerable that doesn’t feel edited. The kind that makes you go, oh. You’ve been in the pit too.

I sit there for a full minute.

I close it.

New tab.

Another video.

This one’s a Q&A from some live retreat. A guy with sleeve tattoos is crying. Adrian doesn’t say much. Just sits with him. Nods.

“Let it be heavy,” he says. “You’ve carried it long enough alone.”

I don’t cry. But something in my chest creaks open a little.

Not forhim. For the guy. For all of them.

Which is extremely inconvenient because I’m supposed to be dismantling this garbage fire of a man brand, not catching feelings for his redemption arc.

Still. I’m five videos deep before I realize I haven’t touched the takedown script.

By video seven, I start taking notes again.

Except they’re not bullet points. They’re questions.

Why do we believe someone more when they hurt out loud?

What’s the line between honesty and strategy, and does it matter if the result helps people?

Is it manipulation if you mean it, but it still gets you followers?

I hate how he’s messing with my clarity.

I hate that his storytelling works.

And I really hate that my next video might be called:

“The Trouble with Truth: Why Adrian Zayne Is Effective (and That’s the Problem).”

I close the tab. Then I open it again.

Just to double-check one thing.

It’s not for him. It’s for the data.

I’m just... being thorough.

Thorough. Not intrigued. Not impressed. Definitely, absolutely, not into him. At all.

16. Adrian

The question comes from the guy in the backward cap—jawline sculpted by Instagram filters and emotional avoidance.

“What’s the best way to ask what she wants without sounding, you know... insecure?”

I blink. “You could try... asking.”