Aiden sighed, putting away his notebook. Others had brought little recorders with them but Aiden found once you played them back all you got was static and maybe the sound of the person next to you rustling in their seat. There wasn’t much here to write about that wouldn’t sound like press release for the Price company’s new drug and it would be the same as every other story on the TV or in the paper. He needed to find another angle on this thing.
Mindless glowing praise or heaped scorn tacked onto a few sound bites couldn’t be the only way to cover this story. There had to be more to it, to King’s method of production and his ideas. Maybe if Aiden followed him, rather than leaving, he’d be able to secure a little more information, maybe a private interview. That would certainly turn this story around.
He glanced around, and then squared his shoulders, following King and his bodyguards, trying to make it appear as if he belonged with them.