[Intro]
[Frank] "What do we do when nothing happens?"
[Gordon] "Then find something."

[Verse]
Nobody laughs. That bothers me
More than if the whole room had.
The sentence hangs there, calm and clean,
Like something normal. Something bad.

The clock runs five minutes fast tonight,
The K-P-I board is full and bright.
Frank's mug sits empty by my pen —
I write Gordon's exact words down again.

[Chorus]
Then find something,
If nothing's breaking, make it run.
Then find something,
Give the empty hour a loaded gun.
Turn a whisper into thunder, turn a question into clues —
Then find something, when the truth won't make the news.

[Verse]
Monday I wanted interviews. Tuesday, I learned to rush.
Wednesday: smoke from a bucket, overheated in the hush.
Thursday: a jammed printer cracked a story wide.
Friday: they found that anger sells, and multiplied.

We corrected a stranger's name. Buried truth beneath a tweet.
We pressed BREAKING till the word went thin and incomplete.
[Frank] "He's serious." [Maya] "I know."
[Frank] "That sentence is the problem." [Maya] "I know."

[Chorus]
Then find something,
If the day won't do its part.
Then find something,
Turn the calm into a rising spark.
Take the ordinary weather, ask what people ought to fear —
Then find something, when the truth is far too clear.

[Instrumental Break]

[Bridge]
Page one: Ask questions. Meet people. Understand. Tell what matters.
Page forty-eight: Ask who benefits. Ask who named the metric.
Ask why the headline changed. Ask what evidence is missing.
Ask what they want us to find — before we find it.

[Breakdown]
No fire? Find smoke. No scandal? Find tone. No crisis? Find anger. No story? Find one.
No evidence? Wait.
That line, I keep.

[Build-up]
Frank reaches for his mug. Empty. He walks to the machine —
It breaks again. First real laugh all morning, sudden and clean:
"Good. Something real happened." I laugh too.
Then the monitor flashes: BREAKING NEWS IDEATION WORKSHOP, SEVEN-THIRTY.
Frank stops laughing.

[Final Chorus]
Then find something,
If nothing's breaking, let it be.
Then find something —
No. That's where Gordon loses me.
Find the record. Find the witness. Find the question. Find the clues.
Then find something — but don't invent it just to feed the news.

[Outro]
The newsroom empties. The whiteboard stays:
CLICKS. SHARES. WATCH TIME. RAGE ENGAGEMENT. BREAKING FREQUENCY.
Underneath, in small black marker, I write and circle:
REALITY.

Three guitar notes. Two repeat.
One rises — and does not resolve.
Tomorrow, Beacon Twenty-Four starts breaking, all day long.
And Gordon Pike has already scheduled the morning meeting.

It has been extended.