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Facing the Music

Madison gave a half-hearted, "Let's face the music," and pushed the heavy oak doors open. The media rushed forward like a colony of ants, yelling and tripping over each other. Lawyers were used to this, though it had always been the worst part for Madison. She had not quite yet found the "right" way to deal with the media of Sydney after living there for only the past six months, but here she was, once again, face to face with them.

Madison took a step forward and announced, "At this time, I would like to make a comment. There will be only one, so should you wish to hear it, kindly shut up."

The crowd was dulled momentarily by her outburst, and Mark stood by proudly. One of the most arrogant journalists, Peter Adams, spoke up. "Is it going to be worth hearing this time Councilor Wells?"

Ignoring Adams's comment, and without hesitation, Madison continued," I'll meet you all down stairs in the lobby."

The crowd dispersed, and raced for the elevators, each wanting to get the perfect and in the lobby first.

Mark placed his arm around her shoulders and gave her a confident squeeze, "Nice one Councilor Wells. Now tell me, are you really going to meet them in the lobby?" - a sly smile crossed his face.

"Well, co-council Williams, I'm not quite sure yet. Should I rush down to give my non-existent statement, or make them sweat it out for a while?" Madison responded, laughing. Thinking to herself, ‘Maybe I CAN handle these people after all.'

"All joking aside, what exactly ARE you going to do? What are you going to say? I don't think mentioning the tape is wise at all, and there's nothing new that they don't already know, as of today."

"Oh don't worry, I'll throw something together, or should I really just leave them hanging and sneak past them all down there? Any opinions? Stay or leave?"