<div style="text-align: center">After January concluded her story, she thought that maybe... Just maybe, Agent Riley would become a perfectly reasonable person. Judging by the way Agent Riley very rarely broke eye contact, even to blink, one would think that she was thoroughly invested in January's story. That was not the the case. The sarcasm dripped off of nearly every word Agent Riley spoke, and she continued to belittle January. It didn't help that she refused to properly say Silverbottom, and that her paper was supposedly laying off some of the staff. That fact, was one that finally shut January down, and her lips no longer quivered with the need, or want to explain herself any further. There was no point in speaking to this woman. She was convinced everything was a lie, or that she had somehow made up this very elaborate story on her own.<br/>
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<i> "Special Agent Dortmund will take a written version of your story and escort you out. We'll be in touch if we need anything further. Good day, Miss Silverbottom."</i><br/>
<br/>
January pressed her lips together in a flat line, before she stood up and allowed Agent Dortmund to lead her to their next location. Her feelings were pretty hurt, she would be lying if she said otherwise. But, looking on the bright side, January still had her phone. That tiny little microSD card was the key to her future. She didn't want to have to release it outside of the FBI's cooperation, but it would be amazing to see the look on Agent Riley's face when that clip was playing on every news station. With that piece of video evidence in her possession, the Golden Disc would be begging her to stay on staff and write for them. <i>Well, fuck you, too. </i>January thought to herself with a smile, her nostrils flaring and her eyes widening as she forced herself to meet with Agent Dortmund's understanding gaze.<br/>
<br/>
Her shoulders seemed to relax, and the tension in her face melted away when Agent Dortmund said she'd believed her. <i>You do? Aw. Now I feel bad about destroying this department. </i>She nodded at the other woman as she explained what would need to be done next.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. I think I can do that, but do you think you could mail a copy out to me this week? I want to keep a record of it for my own personal records, just...so I know I'm not going crazy?" January asked, then carefully explained. She studied Agent Dortmund, wondering just how a girl like that winded up in this hellhole working for that...woman. She supposed Dortmund and Riley weren't unlike herself. Her boss at the Golden Disc was also an insufferable bitch, but at least now, January had the chance to really sock it to them.<br/>
<br/>
With that knowledge, January grabbed the pen and began retelling her story through writing. She managed to include a little more detail about that night, some of the road signs she remembered seeing, the pocket knife, and exactly what the aliens looked like to her. She signed and dated the bottom, then looked up at Agent Dortmund with an innocent smile and slid the notepad across the table. "Thanks for being so patient, Agent Dortmund. I don't know that I would have cooperated so easily without your kindness." January said honestly, and extended a hand towards the other brunette. "If you ask me, the FBI could use more people like you. I really do need to get going, I have a deadline to meet... Actually, I've already missed the deadline, but I'm too tired to care at the moment." <i>Actually, I don't care at all. <br/>
</i><br/>
January parted ways with Agent Dortmund and walked herself back to the lobby and returned her ID to the receptionist. The receptionist wasn't even worth a second look. She made it outside and spotted the only candy-red mustang in the parking lot. She ignored the feeling of being watched and made a beeline for the car, where she prepared for another long ride.<br/>
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~~~~~~~~~<br/>
<br/>
It was early in the evening when January emerged from the bathroom wearing an over sized t-shirt, and a pair of fluffy slippers. Her glasses were situated perfectly on the bridge of her nose as she sat down on the couch with her laptop. She had some time to spare since this weekend's football game had been covered, and her boss apparently felt bad about her getting lost, so she didn't have to come in tomorrow morning. She'd purposely been putting off looking at the video footage on her cellphone. Actually, she hadn't thought about the FBI or aliens at all, since arriving home, but it felt wrong to not do anything. It wasn't like the FBI was going to go out and expose the aliens for her.<br/>
<br/>
"Real U-F-O videos." January said each letter of the word as she typed it into the video browsing website, and not to her surprise, a ton of videos popped up. Most of them looked like they had been recorded in a storm, on some sort of potato. She did find a few that looked real, but nothing like she had ever seen. A little more digging revealed that all of the realistic videos had already been debunked by UFO specialists. She wondered briefly just how someone becomes a UFO specialist in the first place, and would that make her one since she had actually seen one? January frowned in disappointment and sighed, before she picked the small black  chip off of the table and stuck it into a slot on her laptop.<br/>
<br/>
The footage from her cellphone started up in the video player. The first thing she noticed was that her video was much better quality than the others, almost crystal clear thanks to her annual cellphone upgrades. She bit her bottom lip and watched the footage play out in its entirety, even the difficult parts where the aliens took advantage of Emily Fastnet. There was also the woman, who she was almost positive was Agent Riley, but a part of her believed she was attaching Riley to this character, because she hated her so much. Just watching it made her skin crawl, and she pulled her legs up on the couch and looked around her living room slowly. There was nothing to be worried about, she assured herself. If the aliens had seen her then surely she would have met the same fate as Emily, or worse. January swallowed at the thought and battled with what to do with this footage. She could always submit anonymously, but that just seemed so wrong. Was it fair for her to experience something so horrific and not reap the fruits of her unique encounter?<br/>
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For now, there was a simple solution. She opened up another tab on the web browser and pulled up her personal blog. She began to write about her experience, keeping Emily's name and the part about the FBI. How from the jump she was brushed off, and treated like a liar. People would think she was a wack job either way, but maybe others would open up? And when people inevitably demanded proof, she would provide it. <i>And if you need proof, I've got it. Not for the faint of heart. </i> She took a screenshot of the scene where Emily is being brought down in the bubble and attached it to the blog post. The rest of the video was still uploading, but would post automatically once it had fully loaded onto the servers. She submitted the summarized events on her blog and closed her laptop quickly, almost like she was anticipating backlash for her post. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves, and then curled up on the couch in front of the TV with a blanket. After a few minutes of staring blankly at her favorite cooking show, she shot up off the couch.<br/>
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"What have I done?" January's phone soon lit up with a call from her boss, and then her mother, who followed her blog very closely. She got big eyed for a second and buried her face against her hands. If only she'd waited until tomorrow to make the decision to share her experience, but it was too late now. Her video, along with the retelling of events had already been posted online for whoever to see.<br/>​</div>