Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I just wanted to play in the sandbox for a while.
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Prove me wrong
Mitchum stared at the bright eyed girl in front of him. She was sweet, everyone thought so. But he saw something in her that others didn't. She was a talented writer, but she wasn't reporter material. Everyone until now had coddled her, allowed her to live in her world of naivety, but it wasn't doing her any favors. The world was tough and the life of a reporter took someone with guts, instinct, and a willingness to go off the rails to find the story. She didn't have it. He had seen thousands of young dreamers just like her before, sheltered and coddled then set loose. They were unable to handle rejection or criticism, completely breaking apart. He knew how much his son cared for her, regardless of his family's disapproval. For this alone made Mitchum think that the girl had something special about her, but it wasn't what she needed to be a reporter. She was more suited to teaching or being a novelist, maybe even being a writer for a feel good magazine, but not a newspaper reporter. She didn't have the fire.
He could see her getting nervous about this impromptu discussion. He didn't want her to lose what made her special, what drove her, and what allowed her to prove her talent. He wanted to help preserve this by being the one to help redirect her path before it was too late. He wanted to make sure that she understand that he wasn't being cruel, instead he was being kind. Well kind for him. The world would break her, break her spirit, and he didn't want that. His son loved her too much, and she was good for Logan. She made him want to be better, to mature and reach his potential, everyone could see that.
"I have seen a lot of young reporters in my time. They all that something that drives them that gives them that edge to do what needs to be done to get the story." He saw her eyes zero in on him, a small smile forming at her lips. "You don't have it." The changes were instantaneous. The light went out in her eyes and the smile dropped from her lips. He went on to explain how she didn't jump into the fray in the meeting and how she always seem unsure and unconfident. She tried excuses that she didn't think she could because she was an intern. This proved his point. A real reporter, one with the guts to go for glory would've been trying to prove themselves in those moments, make pitches, and go into the fray whether is was welcome or not. "I'm not saying you're not talented, Rory. I have seen your work. You have a lot of talent in writing. I have been impressed by your abilities that you have shown here, but I just don't think that you have what it takes to be a reporter." He saw the defeat slump her shoulders and drain her eyes. This wasn't what he wanted. "From what I've seen, you are more suited for teaching others, or writing novels, or maybe even writing for a feel good magazine. Just not for newspapers." He could tell that all she wanted to do was escape this conversation and cry. He never felt guilty before after having these conversations, and he didn't now, but he did feel a little bad for watching his son's girlfriend break because of his words. "I'm not saying this to be cruel or to dishearten you. I just want you to understand that everyone has limits, some are made for the grit and griddy of reporter life, some aren't." He watched her straighten her spine. Maybe this wouldn't break her. "I can do better. I can be a reporter. I do have what it takes." He saw a fire start to build in her eyes. Something that hadn't been there before. Something that might turn into something. He had seen it before.
"I tell you what. Come up with three pitches. Give them to me Monday. If I like one of them, I'll let you run with it. This is your chance to prove me wrong. Show me what you are made of. Show me that you can be a reporter, Rory Gilmore." It was all up to her now. Maybe this will be one of the few times he was wrong about somebody, maybe not, but at least she was showing some fire. Was this what his son saw in her? She gave a nod and a determined glint replaced the defeated shadow in her eyes. Without another word she left the conference room. Mitchum let out a sigh, despite his disapproval, he wanted his son to settle into his life in the family business and fall in love. He wanted his son to be happy. He hoped that this girl was able to do that. Whatever comes next, he hoped that her eyes were open now.
Should I continue it? Do you love it? Hate it?