LA CANDIDATE

TOKEN WANTED

"Too much caffeine and sugar isn't good for you."

Cara took her Red energy drink from the vending machine and turned to give Keri a sarcastic smile, "Please stop the daddy act, Keri. We're at work, and I'm grown."

"I know you're grown, and I'm not acting daddy-like. You can say coach or limit big brother-ish but not daddy."

Cara rolled her eyes and opened her can, "What do you think they're talking about in there?" She asked, staring at Severine's office door.

"Work, what else?" Keri replied, putting his hands in his pockets and swinging toe to heel.

"Why is Severine hiring another bodyguard? She already has the parties goons."

"You know your sister better than me. She always has a legit reason."

Cara sipped her drink and said, "Yes, but this guy's resume had the least experience, and he comes from the 93."

Keri shrugged, "So what? We're all from there."

"That's the problem. Haven't you read the press? They're calling Sevy the token. Other parties qualify us as a mafia. There's even a trend on TikTok, where they use mafia Cainfri as a hashtag to describe us."

Keri laughed.

"It's not funny, Keri."

"Yes, it is. Do you hear yourself? You are worried because your sister is hiring a bodyguard and TikTok, using the name of a 90s rap group from Val de Marne who had the illumination of saying African backward for a trend."

Cara huffed and crossed her arms.

"You saw his resume; he's French." 

"Keri, please, you know what I mean."

"Perhaps that's precisely why she wants to hire him. Black people do politics, and a Muslim man of Algerian descent can protect a candidate. I'm extrapolating, but maybe it's the message Severine wants people to see: We're capable. If you're uncomfortable, you can still trade your member card for Angelique Barbeaus."

"Take that back; it's insulting to associate me with the far right. We're misfits for the press, that's all I'm saying."

People criticized the French Liberals in and out of France. Many rival parties accused them of jumping on the Woke bandwagon. Detractors even pointed a finger at Cara and Keri, who were close to Severine.

"Misfits, huh? They see three black people in a little strategic role in a political party and play it in an inquisition as if they were contaminating something. It's foolish; I'm surprised you're even reading or listening to such trash, Cara."

"I'm concerned about Sevy. Samuel told me they've received over a hundred threat letters since the campaign started. "

"Trust me, Cara. She knows where she's treading. She has a vision for this country, and I believe in her."

Keri put everything on hold; the firefighter and sports instructor didn't hesitate. He remembered when Severine's call came. Keri rehearsed in front of the mirror at the Mystery Cuisine restaurant toilets for one of his life's highlights. The highly gastronomic restaurant seemed the ideal place to propose. "Sherifa will marㅡ."

His phone almost gave him a heart attack. Keri looked at the name. He hesitated to pick up. It had been an eternity since he had seen her, the last time at her mother's funeral. Best friends to lovers, the cruelty of life drove the inseparable apart, but the affection lingered, and the sentiment pushed Keri to take the call.

"Hello."

"Sevy."

"Am I bothering you?"