"Of course," I said. "I'm not stalking. I'm collecting data for research." He whistled.
"Man, I should have brought popcorn. Want me to edit it?" I grinned. "You read my mind. Add subtitles and maybe some dramatic music."
"Something classy, like 'Another One Bites the Dust.'" "Got you," he said. "You want transitions or straight cuts?" "Transitions," I said.
"This betrayal deserves smooth fades." He cackled. "You're insane. I love it."
While Tar worked his editing magic, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of whiskey. Not out of sadness. Out of celebration. It's not every day you catch betrayal in 4K.
The next morning, I woke up to a notification. Video file: Corporate Affairs Final Cut.mp4. Tar had delivered. I hit play.
The opening sequence was cinematic. Soft jazz, black-and-white filter, and a title card that said, "Based on Poor Decisions and Cheaper Wine." Then came the footage. Belinda and her boss laughing, touching, the kiss.
Tar even added dramatic slow motion at the perfect moments. It was art. Petty art. Halfway through, I was laughing so hard I had to pause it.
Milo looked at me confused, like, "You okay, man?" "Oh, I'm fantastic," I told him. "Netflix could never." By noon, I'd saved the video in three different folders, two drives, and one encrypted cloud.
You don't collect gold and leave it unguarded. That afternoon, I went to see Mrs. Delgado again. She took one look at my smug face and said, "You found something better?" "I found cinema," I said, handing her a flash drive.
She plugged it in, pressed play, and within 30 seconds, she was laughing. Actual laughter, the kind that echoes with disbelief and joy. "Oh, this is beautiful," she said. "Do I hear jazz?"
"Classy, right?" "Very. The judge will love it." I grinned.
"So, what's next?" She said, "We add this to the file. Judges love evidence with timestamps. It screams competence." As she spoke, I realized something.
I wasn't sad anymore. I wasn't angry. I was free. Watching her fall apart from a distance wasn't cruelty.
It was closure in high definition. When I got home that evening, my phone buzzed again. Belinda: "Can we talk tonight?" I stared at it, smirked, and replied, "Sorry, got a late meeting."