Page 65 of Cold Comeback
The breaking point came during B-roll filming around town. Blake had decided he needed "a day in the life" footage to show the real Richmond.
I was leaving the coffee shop near the team house when Pluto burst through the front door, face flushed with anger.
"Those assholes filmed Jet."
"What?"
"At the grocery store. He was just shopping, man. Out of costume, reading ingredient labels like a normal human being. They followed him around with a camera."
My blood ran cold. "Please tell me you're joking."
"They're calling it behind-the-mask content. Blake's practically jerking off about how humanizing it'll be."
Jet appeared behind Pluto, looking smaller than I'd ever seen him. Without the skull head and costume, he was just a regular guy in his thirties with thinning hair and kind eyes. He was the kind of person who disappeared into crowds and probably preferred it that way.
"They didn't ask," he said quietly. "I was just buying groceries. Using coupons." His voice cracked slightly. "They kept filming while I was checking prices on cereal. Made jokes about the Grim Reaper being frugal."
Protective anger rose inside my chest. Jet wasn't only our mascot—he was part of our family. He sold season tickets, drove the equipment van, and showed up to every practice, even when it wasn't required. He'd picked me up from the airport on my first day, and now these strangers were turning his private life into content without his permission.
We entered the house, and I slammed the door behind me.
"That's fucked up," Linc said immediately.
Bricks shifted uncomfortably. "But what if we make a big deal about it and they, you know, make us look bad? Like, difficult to work with?"
The room went quiet.
"They're already making us look however they want," Pluto said. "At least this way we're standing up for each other."
"Easy for you to say," Bricks muttered. "You're not on a two-way contract."
Knox spoke from the kitchen doorway, where he'd been listening. "Kid's got a point. We push back, and suddenly, we're the problem children who can't play nice with the media. League office won't like that."
"So, we let them do whatever they want?" Linc asked.
"I'm not saying that." Knox crossed his arms. "I'm saying there's a cost to fighting this, and some of us have more to lose than others."
The weight of that truth settled over everyone. Bricks was right—he was barely hanging onto his roster spot. A reputation as a difficult player could end his career before it started.
"Where are they now?" I asked.
"Editing van," Pluto said. "Blake's already talking about it being a highlight reel moment."
I was already on the move.
I found Blake in the production truck, hunched over a laptop with headphones on, scrubbing through footage of Jet reading nutrition labels.
"We need to talk."
He looked up, annoyed at the interruption. "What's up? We're in the middle of a cut."
"That footage of Jet. You can't use it."
Blake's expression shifted to confused amusement. "Why not? It's gold. Audiences love behind-the-scenes stuff. Very humanizing."
"You didn't ask his permission."
Rachel appeared beside Blake. "Public space, no expectation of privacy. Standard practice."
