Contingency in Lingotto

1.Contingency in Lingotto

Genre: Fiction,suspense,crime

Chapter 1: Paulina Fiore, 43, was discovered dead on the kitchen floor with strange bruises after the cops forcibly entered her flat. As soon as he had a suspicion of homicide, the chief detective demanded an autopsy. But following a thorough investigation, the coroner found that a vitamin C shortage was to blame for the death.

Stephanie Brolo, a close friend of Paulina who sources claim, is seen crying and saying, "This is all my fault," in a video that has surfaced on social media.

I finish writing the article while drinking my third espresso of the morning at the offices of the biggest newspaper in my city. The golden rule is one coffee per story. I wish I could impart this knowledge to budding journalists, but they all operate in different ways.

I declare to the staff, "I'm sick of tabloid journalism!," after finishing my third random death write-up of the day. I'm ignored by the aspiring writers nearby. They are content to just have a job in the traditional media collapse.

According to Giuseppe, our new Chief Editor, articles about either sex or death get 10 times more clicks than any other kind of content. His editing ideas are as direct as a market fish vendor's approach to selling fish. Before I can concentrate on another piece of investigative journalism, I must undergo another month of ambulance chasing. The extensive government corruption exposé I published last month, which took up half the front page of the print magazine, attracted less online attention than a weekend auto accident or a fight in a bar.

“Max?” Standing in front of my desk is Giuseppe. Why haven't you spoken with your friend yet?

“Friend? Whose friend is he?

“Idiot. The pal who always blames themselves. "Young, appealing, and popular online?" Giuseppe says this, his voice becoming louder with each utterance.

The name Stephanie Brolo Giuseppe sees how well I remember the details. I didn't major in political science to go after the friends of people who had committed suicide or murder.

“Do it.” He makes a U-turn and storms off. He turns around halfway across the newsroom and exclaims, "Vitamin C! Concentrate on the vitamin C. Max, nutrition-related stories are beneficial for our advertising.

Several journalists use their mobile devices to take notes. Even a layperson can predict that they will propose a variety of vitamin-related stories during tomorrow's news conference.

I call the pal.

Max Serafino is speaking. Are you Bianca?

A female voice says, "Yes," but then pauses. Are you working for the police?

“No. I support the I mention the newspaper's name. The name has a 137-year history and frequently opens doors.

"I had assumed that the police would be contacted first. What do you desire?

In Italy, the police wouldn't waste their time investigating anything as unimportant as a social media statement. Unless there was a politician or famous person involved.

"I'd want to explain what you mentioned in the popular ItaliaApp video." I bring up the biggest social media app in Italy.

Bianca complains, "That video is wrecking my life."

I regret to inform you of that.

Everyone misconstrued what I said, I guess. Paulina's death had nothing to do with me. Six months prior, she stopped going out and appeared slimmer. She gathers her breath and says, "Perhaps I pushed her in this path. Only twice after she stopped seeing me did I call her. I should have given it more effort and visited her house.

“Yes?”

She says, "Thanks for calling, but I don't know who you are. It's all too much."

The mobile device's display abruptly goes crimson. She ends the WhatsApp conversation and logs off.

Chapter 2: "Good job on the interview with Paulina." One of my old pencils gets picked up by Giuseppe, who then gently rubs it between his fingers.

"No issue, boss," I was able to create a piece on a buddy who was heartbroken and a big essay about eating disorders using the scant information I was provided.

Good pencil. Quixotically, he looks at the Castelli wooden pencil. "Max, this newsroom is not appropriate for someone your age. You, however, always manage to land on your feet.

The Turin Tiger, perhaps? I suggest. I'll take that for the byline.

I can only hope for a nickname that sounds meaningful these days. I remember the Elysian Times, when conventional newspapers, rather than Google, earned all the advertising cash, when I was flown to Rome to interview government ministers.

One of the first things a beat reporter does after receiving a story assignment is to get in touch with the family. I find the father of Paulina on social media and introduce myself:

I'm Max Serafino, a journalist with the Turin Register. I want to make sure I have all the facts straight because I'm writing a story on the sad occurrence involving your daughter. Please get in touch with me as soon as possible.

I get a response that seems to have been copied and pasted:

Please don't contact us again; we have nothing to say. A family named The Fiore

The Turin Register's newsroom is quiet about the Paulina case for a few days when I switch to another breaking subject.

Someone yells, "Max. Line 7!"

"City desk, Max Serafino," is my response.

A man introduces himself as the father of Paulina Fiore, "our daughter." All of it is our fault. We observed how much time she was wasting on her phone but did nothing to stop her.

I ask, "Is there a reason you decided to call me today?" "I'm sure it's not your fault, but I would like to hear more," I reply.

The cops asked us questions about the websites she was looking at after unlocking her phone.

"Do any of the names come to mind?"

"I'm not sure. He said, "But the majority of the articles were about diseases. I've never heard of any of them.

Was she in touch with anyone at all?

They did claim that she got the ItaliaApp URLs from friends.

Paulina hasn't been outside for months, according to claims from her neighbours. Online friends are required.

I make a call to Turin University's Professor Rizzo.

Could a patient's dread of sickness, viruses, bacteria, and other things lead to malnutrition? I ask.

"Mysophobia, often known as germophobia, can make a patient avoid handling food, eat with gloves, and do other things of that nature. Patients with problematic conditions may limit their social interactions and avoid going out in public.

"Paulina seemed to eat nothing except boiling pasta."

"That sounds feasible, but even in the most severe cases of mysophobia, I've never heard of starvation. Nearly every other psychological impulse pales in comparison to the power of hunger.

The urge to survive, though, isn't it even stronger? I speculate about the potential nature of the existential danger.

How was it possible for Paulina to totally avoid something as common as vitamin C? I provide the Chief Editor with an update on my casework.

The elements of a good human interest tale are present here—food, terror, and a female victim. Giuseppe appears content. "Continue your research, but stay away from any critical remarks about ItaliaApp. They provide 30% of the traffic we receive.

I get along with a lot of people in our city. When a listener is attentive, people love to talk about themselves. especially if they believe they are in an authoritative position.

Chapter 3: Bruno and I both graduated from university together, but he took a different, more global path. After spending 15 years working in Silicon Valley, he moved back to our town and was quickly hired by the biggest social media firm in Italy. a glimpse of the life I might have had.

I decide to arrange up a romantic supper with a 41-year-old man instead of having dinner with my girlfriend Gabrielle.

I walk toward the rectangular mass of iron lattice that is the old Fiat factory in Lingotto on the south side of the city on a clear, dry evening as dusk falls over Turin as it sits in its valley between the towering Italian Alps on one side and the rolling hills that rise up from the Po river on the other. The nearly kilometer-long factory has been converted into offices and a ground-floor shopping centre. High-tech startups now frequently come from the United States, France, and Germany.

People are now crammed into the structure that served as the city's hub when Turin manufactured half of all the autos in Europe as they work to understand how to sell affordable handbags online. The inhabitants of Turin, unlike earlier generations, are at least no longer doomed to a life of arduous labour.

Paulina lived next to this structure.

I requested a quiet table at the Osteria del Fiat. When the host directs us to a very packed dining room, I am let down. We pass a sizable space with just one guest table present. I identify a former local politician among the group of well-dressed men. Power brokers want not to be overheard in the hidden corners of the city.

We complete our own dinner an hour later, and Bruno takes a sip of the Dolcetto d'Alba we have been sipping. We can now get to the heart of the meal after the customary introductions and the sharing of information about mutual friends. I describe how Paulina was using his employer's app more than 50 times every day.

"At ItaliaApp, we prioritize repeat visitors. Some readers we seduce with glitz, while others we frighten into addiction.

That's manipulation, right?

"We are providing what the public wants. They will discover hatred if they so want. They will also find love if they desire it.

"How about advancing human rights and democratic principles?"

"That's just academic rhetoric for pupils. You know that.”

Paulina Fiore passed away after consuming false information provided to her by ItaliaApp.

If someone can't handle online news, it's not our problem. Someone else will send it to them if we don't.

I comment that you have developed a very American way of thinking. Although it's frustrating that my old friend doesn't view the world the same way we once did, I've learned to embrace people's differences, whether they are political or not. I continue, "The police appear to be quite interested in her social media past."

Bruno asks me with fresh interest, "Has the police department launched an inquiry?"
Perhaps the authors of the misleading news are to blame for her death rather than ItaliaApp. I'll have a look at it and shine some light on the fraudulent new producers if you could email me her browsing history, the one the cops are looking at. That might enable you to respond to bad coverage sooner. Of course, I'll keep your name off of it.

"I'll consider it," Bruno concentrates on his glass of red wine.

Although Bruno and I may not agree on everything, we have enough common ground that we can be confident in our ability to uphold each other's interests. Paulina's browsing history is sent to me via an encrypted messaging app the following afternoon.

I begin to click on the links:

the ongoing influx of illegal immigrants into Italy.

Covid ascends via ventilation shafts.

How Elevator Buttons Spread Disease in Seven Ways

The first patient with monkey pox in Italy is photographed by paparazzi.

MonkeyPox-infected vegetables picked by immigrants and sold in our supermarkets.

I peruse months' worth of information concerning fatal diseases and how to prevent them. Government efforts to counteract fake news have been unsuccessful.

My heart skips a beat as I see our name among the thousands of links I scan.

"Never believe the government when it comes to monkey pox. See the Turin Register articles that are attached.

I click the link and am greeted by a series of well-known headlines:

Chapter 4: Max Serafino's article, "The Dark Hand Behind the Government Reshuffle,"

Health Authorities allegedly covered up patient malpractice claims, according to Max Serafino

Misguided Pandemic Recommendations: Max Serafino

Turin Government Corruption Exposed by Max Serafino

Paulina was reading other articles that frequently linked to pieces my colleagues and I have written, warning her not to believe medical professionals or government health advice.

I fix my attention on the pencil that Giuseppe had earlier left on my desk. I hear someone approaching from behind and feel hands on my shoulders.

"And you believed you were superior to all of us, didn't you," Giuseppe's voice continues.

Is is all...? I'm about to pose a straightforward query. however, I stop. I have a limited number of other job options and bills to pay.

I clear my head of useless self-doubt. News is not created by journalists; we merely report it.

I click the mouse to bring up the police bulletin for today and suggest to the Chief Editor which events we might cover for our respected 137-year-old newspaper.

The following morning, a young journalist who usually sits next to me enters the newsroom and triumphantly greets coworkers. He receives a thumbs-up from Giuseppe. When I look at the Turin Register's most popular articles, I see that "Clickbait News Causes Scurvy in Italy's Auto Capital" is currently trending all across the country.

I start dining with Bruno every night. Bruno reminds me that a Political Science professor at the University had said, "Every company is selling a commodity, and at its foundation, the news industry sells fear." We talk about our old school escapades and the state of the nation.

The number of maltrunition cases like Paulina's is expected to increase over the coming months. Bruno starts to eat more and more, I notice. My hunger has disappeared.

                                                   THE END OF Contingency In Lingotto