The beachside studio had never looked so absurdly cozy—or cramped, depending on your perspective. The warm, salty breeze rolled in, gently fluttering the rainbow-colored "Kraken's Apology" banner that hung behind me, like some sort of bizarre tropical exclamation point.
OK, the Kraken of Mythica, was practically squishing into a giant beach chair that was meant for a mere mortal—well, someone not a few hundred feet tall. His tentacles draped awkwardly around the chair's arms and the frame creaked with every slight movement.
It was hard not to laugh. OK's massive form looked like an unfortunate accident waiting to happen. The whole setup could barely hold him.
I adjusted the camera in front of us, fiddling with the lens and framing, my grin threatening to stretch across my face. It was hard not to get giddy.
Today was the day. The day we would change OK's reputation—or at least begin the uphill battle of public relations.
"Okay, just... relax, OK?" I said, teasing him. "You're not going to scare anyone with your 'Kraken charm.'"
OK's eyes narrowed suspiciously, his voice gruff. "I'm serious, Carl. What if they still want to throw me back in the deep end?"
"Relax. You've got this," I said, waving him off. "Plus, we're doing this for good PR. This could be your redemption arc, OK. You're not just a tsunami-inducing dance machine. You're a big, misunderstood guy or teen with heart."
OK grumbled, sinking lower into the beach chair. "I thought I was gonna be doing some breakdancing, not public relations..."
I chuckled at his discomfort. "Well, your breakdancing days are temporarily on hold. But this apology... this could be a game-changer."
OK shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable but trying to look serious for the camera. "Alright, alright. Deep breath. Here goes nothing."
I motioned for him to start, stepping back to watch the magic happen. This was it. The Kraken's first public apology. The world had been waiting for this moment—or maybe they hadn't—but they were about to witness it anyway.
OK cleared his throat dramatically, clasping his enormous hands together as he looked directly into the camera. I leaned in, adjusting my position, trying to suppress my snicker.
"Hey, Mythica. It's OK here... or... Krakenthir. But you know me as OK, the Kraken who messed up a few beaches." He sighed, looking somewhat defeated. "Yeah, that's me. If you've felt the wave of my... ahem... 'enthusiastic' dance moves, I want to start by saying... I'm sorry."
I couldn't help it. I was already shaking my head, whispering from behind the camera. "You've got to sound more sincere, OK."
OK shot me a glare. "I am sincere. It's just... this is weird, alright?"
I crossed my arms, smirking. "Fine. But let's have some sincerity with a little more heart, shall we?"
OK grumbled, but he adjusted his posture, straightened up as much as his colossal frame would allow, and looked back at the camera. His voice softened slightly.
"Look, I know my dance moves caused a few... um, unexpected tidal waves, and I probably ruined some pretty sweet beach days. I didn't mean to turn your surfboards into submarines."
He paused, clearly thinking hard. "Trust me, if I'd known how much damage a 'Kraken Spin' could cause, I would've stuck to the Cha-Cha Slide."
I rolled my eyes off-camera. "That's... actually not a bad idea. Could've avoided this whole tsunami fiasco."
OK nodded vigorously. "Exactly! But, for real, I'm sorry. And I'm going to make it right—starting now."
I raised an eyebrow, watching him with growing amusement. OK was big, but there was definitely some charm in that awkward sincerity of his. I adjusted my position, leaning in as he held up a giant cheque with sparkling letters.
OK grinned sheepishly. "To everyone who got surfed by my waves, I'm funding the restoration of those beaches—new boardwalks, beach cleanups, and a little something special: a Kraken-proof beach umbrella for every single one of you!"
I couldn't help but snicker at the absurdity of the oversized cheque. It was so ridiculous, it might actually work.
"Because we all know you need protection from his waves," I teased. "Trust me, those umbrellas aren't just for sun... they're tsunami-tested."
OK laughed too, though he was still a bit nervous. "And I'm also throwing the biggest beach party ever—at the beach I kind of... wrecked—to celebrate, of course. No waves allowed. Just fun, music, and good vibes. And karaoke too. Oh, and if you're into marine life conservation, I'm also pledging some funds to help out those underwater critters who probably got a little too... swamped by my moves."
I leaned into the camera, grinning widely. "For anyone who's ever surfed a wave they didn't sign up for, we're also getting you a Kraken-proof beach umbrella. I'm talking no more worrying about your flip-flops floating away or your sunscreen turning into sea foam!"
OK gave me a deadpan look. "So yeah. I hope this helps. I'm trying to be a better Kraken. One who keeps his 'Kraken Moves' on dry land, at least until I can, you know, get my dance floor certified for... less destructive fun."
I couldn't help but laugh. "And hey, if you're a little salty about the waves, come join us at the beach party. We've got smoothies, good music, and probably fewer tsunamis this time around. Unless, you know, OK gets excited again…"
OK's eyes widened, his huge form suddenly looking like a guilty puppy. "I promise, no more dance moves—just chill vibes!"
I leaned in, whispering into the camera with a mischievous grin. "At least, that's the plan."
With that, I stopped recording, the awkward tension in the room fading as OK let out a deep sigh of relief. His massive form relaxed in the chair, and I could tell he was trying to get used to this whole 'apology tour' thing.
"Well, that wasn't so bad, right?" I asked, feeling a little proud of how the shoot went. "I mean, you're a lot more... endearing than I thought you'd be."
OK grumbled, slouching slightly. "Endearing? Me? Please. I'm just trying not to drown anyone else with my 'enthusiastic dancing.'"
I chuckled, pulling my camera away. "You're going to do fine, OK. Trust me. You've got a good heart, and the people of Mythica need to know that."
There was a beat of silence before OK spoke again, a little quieter this time. "You really think this is gonna work?"
I paused, looking at my friend. He was trying, and that meant something. He wasn't the mindless, destructive creature people thought he was. He was just a misunderstood soul with too much energy and not enough space.
"I know it will," I said, confidence filling my voice. "But we need to stay on top of the PR. It's going to take more than one apology video, but we've got a good start."
Just as I was about to turn away, my phone buzzed on the table, an incoming notification catching my attention. I picked it up.
"Hold on, looks like we've got a response already. That was fast." I tapped the screen, scanning the comments.
A flood of messages had already appeared. Some were positive—praise for the 'Kraken's Apology,' others a little more skeptical. But then, one stood out. A comment from an account called "TsunamiTruths"—"Nice try, OK. But you can't erase the damage. You'll never be forgiven."
The comment sent a shiver down my spine. Something told me this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
OK noticed my sudden shift in mood and peered over at the phone. "What's that? More trolls?"
I stared at the screen, feeling an unease settle over me. "Maybe. But this... this doesn't feel like just trolling."
And just like that, I felt the first ripple of something bigger. Something I wasn't ready for.
I turned to OK, the weight of the moment pressing on my chest. "Brace yourself, buddy. We might be in for more than just a public apology."