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</div><b>Name:</b>William 'Will' Lawrence<br/><b>Age:</b>27<br/><b>Sexuality:</b>Heterosexual<br/><b>Hometown:</b>Los Angeles, USA<br/><b>Date/Time:</b>Wednesday, 7th of July, 2021.<br/><b>Location:</b>Villa backyard/breakfast area<br/><b>Wearing:</b>Gray shirt, black jeans, sneakers<br/><b>Coupled With:</b>No one.<br/><b>Tagging:</b>Brook Allen (<a class="username" data-user-id="9157" data-username="Sarita" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9157/">Sarita</a>)<br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/><div style="text-align: justify">William listened, quite intently to Brook's words. His smile dimmed slightly, bit by bit as her anger rose. She was right, of course, in some regards. It would be so much easier if one's word could spread and reach everyone's ear and heart. Truthfully, William saw a bit of himself in her, in her views, in her passion and anger against the system... but that those views dated from when he was her age and still rebellious. In time, as his writing changed so did his views. To him, it was a normal process. They all start as a chaotic, unmolded mass of ideas, passion and aspirations and slowly gain its shape as experience accumulates.<br/>
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"If only it was that easy." He said, broadening his smile "It's normal to want to put everything so raw out there and have people read it with awe. Most of us get with that idea into journalism, to bring the truth to become an uncensored mouthpiece of the world that we barely know exists." He paused for a moment and placed his pastry down, taking the napkin to wipe his fingers "But, after a while, I began to understand why rules within journalism exist. It's not enough to just bring raw truth, you also need to present it so that people want to hear it... because raw, undiluted truth is a bitter pill that people don't want to swallow. Not that they can't... it's just that they won't."<br/>
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"But there is more to it." he leaned back against the chair, observing her frowning visage with great interest "It's that... what I write, should be accepted by my peers, to 'steal' from the best. But imagine this..." he paused for a moment before continuing "Say that in the group of a hundred people write something that they want to, something that everyone else knows will not be well received or that it will spark something controversial or something that many readers will dislike. It may or may not be the truth, but it is what the writer believes. The public is easily swayed by words and if they start to hate the newspaper because of one article, then every other article, good article, is at risk of never reaching the public. People will switch to other newspapers. But editors decide what should go out and what should be... altered a bit. After all, even journalists need to eat." he chuckled again, taking the glass of juice to quench his rising thirst.<br/>
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"I thought about it." He said as he placed the empty glass down and looked at Brook once more "To be independent and follow what I wanted. But it's not the same... even if I become good, even if I say I am the best, it's because I said so. But like this, among peers, if I become good, if I become the best, it will be because they decided that I am. I want more than to just serve raw truth... I want to serve it as something that will move people rather than just shock them. That's the difference between me saying 'you have pretty eyes' and me saying that never before have I beheld beauty so breathtaking by gazing into the reflection of the sky in your eyes." he smiled wider "Do you catch my meaning?"​</div>