Page 12 of The Prime-Time Experiment

“That’s reasonable,” the man across from her said quickly. “We anticipated some level of collaborative—”

“I require complete oversight,” Riley corrected.

A brief silence followed. Across the table, Declan’s mouth shifted slightly, the beginning of a smile he did not entirely bother concealing. Riley ignored him completely, sliding her revised document across the table.

“If this proceeds,” Riley interrupts, “the structure will require substantial modification.”

The woman across from her reached for the document immediately, scanning the opening pages while Riley continued.

“The experiment will run longitudinally over a six-month period,” Riley said. “The first phase will consist of baseline data collection.”

Declan’s attention sharpened slightly. “Meaning?”

“It means I need an established pattern before introducing intervention variables,” she clarified. “For approximately six to eight weeks, I will observe existing behavioural, cognitive, and physiological trends under relatively consistent conditions.”

His operational manager blinked once. “In English?”

Riley exhaled softly through her nose, irritated. “I need to determine what outcomes already exist before measuring whether training alters them.”

“That,” Declan said lightly, “was significantly easier to understand.”

Riley ignored him. “Sleep quality, cognitive performance, executive functioning capacity, stress regulation, recovery, dietary consistency, attention control and psychological well-being will all be tracked throughout the baseline period,” she continued. “Once sufficient data patterns are established, the intervention phase will begin.”

“And that lasts the remaining four months?” the woman asked.

“Approximately,” Riley confirmed. “At that stage, variables can be modified incrementally and outcomes measured comparatively against baseline functioning.”

Declan leaned back slightly in his chair, watching her with increasing interest now rather than resistance. “You’ve planned this already.”

“I was forced into publicly committing to it,” Riley replied flatly. “It would have been irresponsible not to.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face at that. Riley continued before he could interrupt again. “The training environment itself must also remain controlled. I will require structured filming, no spontaneous alterations for engagement purposes.”

Declan’s mouth twitched slightly. “You say ‘engagement purposes’ like it’s a disease.”

“In this context, it frequently is.”

His team tried unsuccessfully not to laugh. Riley ignored that too. “I will also require editorial oversight regarding scientific interpretation,” she continued. “I am not permitting cognitive research to be reduced into motivational content.”

“That part’s fine,” Declan said. Riley’s eyes narrowed slightly. The agreement came too easily. Up until now, he had challenged nearly every structural point she introduced, pushing against her language, her methodology, her insistence on precision. This was a negotiation: immediate agreement suggested either strategy or ulterior motive.

Her attention shifted toward him, suspicion threading quietly beneath the surface. “With one condition.”

There it was. Riley exhaled softly through her nose and rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. Unfortunately, Declan caught it immediately. His mouth curved, subtle and annoyingly satisfied, like her reaction had confirmed something for him.

She lifted a hand in a small circular motion. Continue.

“You don’t just observe,” he said.

Riley’s posture remained unchanged. “Observation is a fundamental component of experimental design,” she replied evenly. “I do not understand the issue.”

“The issue is that it won’t work.”

Riley frowned slightly, confusion pulling at the space between her brows. Declan noticed it instantly.

“You want people online to understand what you’re researching,” he continued. “They won’t if you’re sitting on the sidelines analysing everyone else doing the work.”

“That is not the purpose of my research.”