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Summary
Lex snatches the phone and glowers at the paused video with a very different, technically familiar man hunched with their nose in their screen behind White in the same place as the newspaper photo. “That is Clark Kent.”
“Yes, sir,” the CO says, annoyingly hesitant, “I-I mean, he looks a little different in this one, sure –”
“A little?” Lex snaps, then taps a knuckle at the paper on the desk. “Are you fucking blind?”
The CO rolls her lips between her teeth.
Lex growls under his breath and minimizes the browser, bringing up the first social media site that comes up on autocomplete. He searches Clark Kent, taps on the ‘Reporter :)’ result and scowls when he sees it gets updated about once a millennium. It is, also, that same face from the press conference, not the one in the paper. He scrolls, and scrolls, and–
Wait. That’s what it is – it’s all videos. He doesn’t see a single still photo in the lot.