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He slams the paper on the desk and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before he let's his rage get the best of him.
Harley flinches at the sudden sound. He clears his throat. "I thought you might want to know before anyone else. They'll be sold out by 10. There's nothing i can do, but i would-"
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Harley", Dream interrupts him. "This is not your fault, don't worry. I'll deal with it."
He stands up, circling the table to grab his trench coat and fedora from the hanger and leaves Harley with a nod.
"Barbara, will you please show Harley to the door?"
A relatively short woman bounces out of her chair and makes her way in a hurry fdom behind her desk. She arranges her large blonde curls with a hand the moment she sees her boss exiting his office and extends a mug of hot coffee for him to take.
"Of course sir. Coffee?"
"No, thank you, I'm going out. You can have it. Or give it to Harley if he wants to stay." Harley puts up his hand, politely rejecting the mug with a smile.
"Alright, sir. Is there anything you need me to do?"
"No, it's okay, just take some more calls until noon and then you can take the day off."
"Very good, sir, thank you, sir!"
New York air is always chilly in the middle of February, but the wind swirling around him as he walks to his car, biting at every bit of exposed skin, he'd consider it quite cruel right now. The car isn't much more comfortable either, but it will have to do for a 30 minutes drive. He blows some air into his fists for good luck and starts the engine.
New York traffic turned 30 minutes into an hour and his contained anger is threatening to spill over. The man he watches approaching him, however, might be the one to take the lid off the boiling pot and turn up the heat.
"For fuck's sake..." he mutters under his breath. "What the hell do you want, Keemstar?"
Keemstar comes to a stop, too close to him for comfort, but Dream doesn't back away. "Come one, Wastaken, you know I'm where a story calls me." The journalist slicks back his hair with both his hands and a smug smile. He's begging to be punched by Dream at this point.
'Calm the fuck down, you're not here for him", he thinks. Dream takes a few long breaths through his nose. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Keem, but someone's already took their swing at me on this one." He tilts his head in mock sympathy and grins.
The man swirls his moustache around his finger, eyes squinted at Dream. Then his eyes light up and he lets out a hearty laugh. "Oh no, you had me misunderstood, Wastaken. I don't waste my time on shit like that. No no, I'm here for the good stuff."
He takes one more step towards Dream, talking in a low voice. "I'll write this motherfucker's newspaper into the ground."
Dream sighs and pushes him to the side to continue his walk into the building. "Sure, whatever you say. Just stay out of my face."
The building is tall, ten stories high according to the elevator, but it's nothing compared to "Keemstar Journal" and that obnoxiously big sign on the front of the building, probably as long standing up as this building itself.
He presses the tenth floor button and leans against the back wall of the elevator. The other man laughs at something some of the employees say his way about admiring his work and he enters the elevator before Dream can shut the doors on him.
He's never been in this building, but he knows these predictable assholes and their inflated egos, he knows they like to be above everyone in every sense of the word so he's not surprised when he finds that bastard's office on the top floor.
He stalks past the secretary's desk, ignoring her panicked babbling about her boss not being here and he bursts through the door without bothering to knock.
"John fucking Swan." His voice startles the man at the desk, but his face decides on a grin and he motions Dream to sit on the chair in front of him. "Can't say i wasn't expecting you, Detective Wastaken."
Dream ignores him. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"
The other journalist snorts behind him. Dream only turns to glare over his shoulder. The asshole is leaning against the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand, enjoying the show.
Dream returns his attention to the man in front of him. "I knee you're a lying rat, but you crossed the line." He speaks through gritted teeth. "You think this will get you popularity? You want more readers, Swan? Write something fucking good for once and not this excuse of a story."
Swan gets up from his chair and walks around the desk, sitting on it in front of Dream. "I know you're mad, detective, truth hurts, but-"
"Oh come on," Keemstar stands beside Dream, arms crossed over his chest; he looks serious this time, "you call yourself a journalist. You're a fraud, John, you make a mockery of this industry. Have some dignity and at least admit it."
Swan laughs loudly and it's an off-putting sound. The other two look at each other as if the man in front of them has lost his mind. He finally stops, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.
"Oh dear, this is an alliance i did not expect. Really, you two look good together like this, is this the beginning of a beautiful friendship?"
Dream scunches his nose in distaste and Keemstar rolls his eyes at his reaction more than at the other man's assumption.
"Please, Wastaken, don't act happy about it on my account." He remarks sarcastically. "Don't worry, detective, this is not somethinf you should get used to. You're still a pain in my ass."
Dream closes his eyes, breathing in as he tries not to start a fight with the other."I'm glad the sentiment is mutual."
A third voice pipes in with an exaggerated exasperation that Dream almost wants to pull out his gun. "Get a room already! And what are you talking about, Keemstar, you're a writer, liar and a deciever. How am i any different from you?"
"I bring people's shit to light, i ignate fires, true, but I don't write fiction like you, Swan, don't compare yourself to me!"
Dream grabs the front of Swan's shirt and lifts off the ground until he has to stand on the tip of his toes and look directly into the rage in Dream's eyes. Fear crosses the other man's face. Keemstar is grinning beside him.
"You listen to me, Swan, I'll make sure I'll strip naked every material source i can find and build a case even the scummiest of your readers will find it impossible to refute."
Keemstar whistles. "Ooh, kinky!"
"You c-can't do shit, Wastaken! Your career is over, you'll never work in this city again!" Swan's voice wavers.
"You think so?" Dream leans into his ear and the man flinches away as if he's afraid that Dream will bite it off. "I was always better at digging than you, Swan, isn't that why you're so obsessed with me? You're jealous."
He hears the other scoff.
Dream moves away and looks at the other's face again. Not so smug now. "Do you want to be like me? Try harder." He laughs.
Keemstar joins him into laughing at the man. "It's too late for that now i guess, not that he ever stood a chance."
Swan tries to push Dream's hand away, but his grip only tightens on the shirt and tie, causing the other to choke on his words. "People will eat this story up, they won't care about what you say! I'll have YOUR people Keemstar, mark my words!"
The other journalist raises one eyebrow, not in the slightest affected by the claims.
Dream let's go of the man, causing him to stumble on his feet until he catches himself on the desk behind him.
"You have nothing, jackass, don't act like you do. They won't believe you for long-"
"Not if i can help it." Keemstar interrupts.
"-You think you have any power, you couldn't even dig up any dirt on me. You had to make up shit, impersonate me, speak in my name. You're pathetic and you know what? You should probably thank me for helping you dig your grave. It was going to happen one day anyway, but the sooner the better."
He turns on his heels and walks to the door. He stops in the doorway, however, to talk over his shoulder. "When I'm done with you and you have written your apology and anounced your resignation in the paper, i don't want you to ever mention my name again. You've messed with the wrong person, Swan."
And like that he doesn't stop walking until he reaches his car. He almost doesn't notice Keemstar's presence still behind him. His sharp senses don't let him, however. He turns to face the man.
"Don't you have your story? What more do you want from me?"
"I have my full story when you have your defense ready and out into the public eye. Until then i can only drown out some of the voices that would love to see you gone."
Dream frowns. "If you're waiting for a "thank you', you're even dumber than that son of a bitch."
Keemstar laughs. "I wouldn't dream of it. Just know that you can call me if you need my help." He hands him his business card. Dream doesn't bother looking at it and he throws it in his car without taking his eyes off the man. "I doubt i will."
The drive back is even worse, every woman and her children deciding to throw themselves in front of his car and all the drivers somehow forgot how to drive on their side of the road.
But it doesn't matter, he just needs to get back to his office and call Harley. It's going to be a long night.