the lighting is way too perfect, this is obviously manufactured
FAKE. The Reverie are jealous bitches trying to destroy the competition
FAKE FAKE FAKE
"Those comments are buried," Carmine says, dragging a hand through his short hair. "The ratio is overwhelmingly negative."
"But theyexist." Bells's voice is steady and certain. "The seed is already planted. All we have to do is water it."
"You're suggesting we claim the photos are fake."
"I'm suggesting we confirm what people are already theorizing. The lightingistoo perfect. The detailissuspiciously high-definition for what would've been a phone camera."
"And when someone demands Rex remove his mask to prove it?"
"He refuses to dignify fake images with a response." Bells doesn't hesitate. "Why would he? Engaging gives them power. Ignoring them makes the hoax theory more believable. Not less."
Carmine studies her for a long moment. Then his gaze shifts to me. "Rex."
I don't move. Don't acknowledge. The crack in the wall is still there, still shaped like lightning, still fucking fascinating.
"Rex. Look at me."
Some distant part of my brain recognizes this as an order and resisting it means fighting with Carmine. Fighting when I don't have the energy to give a shit enough to fight in the first place.
My head turns and Carmine's eyes meet mine, gray and assessing.
"Take off your mask."
The dark room collapses and my hands freeze.
Every instinct I have screams at once. Run. Hide. Die, even. Anything except this, anything except standing—sitting—here under these lights while another person tells me to show everyone in this fucking room the thing I've spent almost half my life hiding.
"I need to see what we're working with," Carmine says. His voice is still level and professional. Like he's just asking me to hand over a quarterly report. "If we're going to build a strategy around plausible deniability, I need to understand exactly what the photos show versus what actually exists."
I can't move.
Can't even fucking breathe?—
"I've seen his face," Bells says abruptly.
Carmine's attention shifts to her, arching a thick eyebrow. "Have you."
"Yes. And the photos are bullshit. Whoever edited them went completely overboard. There's scarring, sure. But what's in those photos isn't even close to reality."
I find myself staring at her in pure unadulterated shock. Why is she doing this? Why is she fighting for me? Is she lying? Does she really think what she saw in that tunnel was different from the leaked pictures?
Maybe she was in fucking shock.
"Your word isn't exactly proof."
"We've fucked."
Phoenix and Raf's jaws both drop at once.
I do the opposite. I clench my jaw until my fucking teeth hurt. Especially the exposed teeth on the right side of my face.
What the hell are you doing,Bells?