I can't believe he's here. My worst enemy. Thomas Andrew Felton. He's standing here, in the same room as me. He looks even dumber in person. He's smiling while he's talking to Baron. He's probably talking about Draco Malfoy. God, he's so obsessed with himself. I hate him, but I can't take my eyes off of him. Something about the way he laughs... or his skin... i bet it's soft.. -It's time for your speech, Pumpkin, I hear Melania's voice behind me, while she hugs me from behind -Right, I say, finally taking my eyes off Felton's neck. I am led to the stage by two bodyguards and my speech begins. Everyone is looking at me, but that never bothered me. Until now. I would lie if I said I like attention. I'm pretty modest if you ask me. But I've never had a problem with crowds staring at me. But this time it's different. I look into the crowd, and suddenly I realise why I'm suddenly so overwhelmed. That pair of blue orbs, staring into my soul.
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That look. It drives me crazy. My hands start to sweat and my mouth goes dry. Everyone is looking at me. They're waiting. -Right. I clear my throat. So we all know what we're here for, I say, and everyone starts clapping. Even Thomas. I continue with my speech about why I think J.K. Rowling should run for President after I finish my mandate and I'm pleased to see that everyone is agreeing with me. Now all that's left is the afterparty. Thomas starts playing one of his songs, and I'm surprised to notice that his singing isn't that bad. I notice the way his hands move on the guitar strings and I feel something weird- like my chest is burning. I assume it's hatred. And again, I can't take my eyes off of him. Why do I hate him? Well, that's a long story. I hate him since I first saw him at the cinema, back in 2001- I was 55 back then. I was very handsome back then, but actually I still am. I might be old but I'm still hot. As I was saying, I saw him as Draco Malfoy, and I just- felt something. I felt butterflies, BUT I'M NOT A HOMOSEXUAL SO THEY CAN'T BE BUTTERFLIES, CAN THEY?! Actually, that's not a long story. This is it. He just rubs me the wrong way. No big deal. I realise that I've been staring for too long at him when he stands up and starts walking. Towards me. I wonder what's now. He's been bothering me the entire evening, with the way his voice sounds like a scratching a window. -Mr Trump, hi! he says, with his annoying British accent. I just wanted to say that I'm a big fan of yours, and I think your speech was incredibly motovational. - Hmph. I cross my arms and intentionally look away, avoiding eye contact. What do you want? - Mr Trump, I know you're busy, but... you know... I'm a really big fan of your work... if you could just make a tik tok with me.. I can't believe this moron didn't get my hint. But I can't just tell him to go away, can I? Actually, I'm the President of America, I can do whatever I want. - No. -But Sir, he looks at me with those big, ocean eyes, and my heart starts to race - ...fine... What do I have to do? And he started explaining. It wasn't that hard, I just had to sit there looking presentable, as always. I actually nailed it. *AUTHOR'S NOTE: I DID AN AMAZING EDIT OF OUR FACOURITE TRUMPET AND OUR WINDOW'S TIK TOK, BUT I CANT UPLOAD VIDEOS HERE SO USE YOUR IMAGINATION, OR MESSAGE ME LMAO (my tiktok is @moonys_sweater)* - Look how good we look together, says Felton and he pats my shoulder. - You're right, Thomas. I always look good. I say, smiling. - Er... he turns a shade pinker than he usually is. You can call me Tom, Sir.. - Ok, Thomas, I mean Tom. I feel my cheeks burning. What the fuck is wrong, this never happens to ME. I'm Donald Trump, I shouldn't be blushing because of someone like Tom- I hate him. We look into each other's eyes, and for a moment, everyone else in the room is gone and it's just the two of us. Those eyes... now I get why they say the eyes are the window to the soul.. But not only his eyes are the windows to his soul, all of him is the window, I feel like I can see into his soul, I can see that he wants me, just like the rest of the world does. He soooo wants me. Honestly, who wouldn't? I'm literally the perfect man, with golden hair, blue eyes, a natural tan and I'm rich. I can get whoever I want. But right now, I want him. The man standing in front of me. - Mr Trump.... Tom says, his eyes widening He looks into my eyes, then at my lips, and then he steps back. - Mr Trump, I'm sorry, but I'm not... you know... I could never be with you, that would ruin my reputation... I'm a proud transphobe and homophobe, you know... he looks down at his feet, then again at me And then I watch him leave.
