United We Fall - Joe Biden x Donald Trump High School AU

Chapter 1

"It's no use," Joe sighed, leaning further back into the flimsy desk chair in Union High's computer lab. He twiddled his thumbs slowly, a method he often used to calm himself. "I fucked up bad."

Suddenly, his shoulders were gripped tightly, and he swung around to face his best friend, Kamala. He gazed up at her, their eyes meeting. Her dark, lustrous hair framed a face that exuded both warmth and determination. She was never one to give up. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Kamala spoke.

"Joe, pull yourself together," she said in a forceful tone that snapped him back to reality. "You had a bad debate. So what? People know you aren't good with crowds. It's not the end of the world; you just have to keep up appearances."

Even through her determination, her voice wavered slightly. What had just taken place prior was thirty minutes of pure agony as Joe was completely crippled by his demophobia. Kamala knew deep down he was a competent and steadfast leader with a good heart, but sometimes... sometimes she doubted his abilities. She wondered why he would even attempt to engage in student council politics given his anxiety.

"Joe..." she spoke his name softly, hesitantly, and their gazes met once more as he raised his head. "Can I ask you something?"

Joe took a second to reply, mildly confused by the drastic shift in her tone. "Yeah... shoot."

Kamala pressed her lips together. "Why did you decide to do it? The election, I mean—why put yourself through it?"

Joe sighed, his fingers tapping nervously on the edge of the table. "I know, Kamala," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze. "I hate crowds, I'm not great at talking to people, and campaigning feels like... torture."

"Joe—" Kamala started, but he cut her off.

"I need to do this. I look around me, at Union High... at the world, and it makes me sad. And I want to change that in any way I can. Even if it means putting myself through hell to get there." He stood up suddenly, filled with vigor. "I need to do this. And I need to win."

A smile spread across Kamala's face, any doubt she had in him swept away. "Then let's win. We need to work on damage control; your reputation isn't in a good state after that debate." Kamala began to spout out ideas, and Joe listened intently, a smile on both of their faces. They were going to give it their all.

***

Later that day after his triumphant debate win, Donald finds himself at the Oval Greens Country Club, surrounded by congratulatory handshakes, backslaps, and words of approval. The room buzzed with chatter, a celebration in full swing. Yet, amidst the applause and admiration, a subtle unease crept into his mind.

He looked around at the faces, smiling and nodding in his direction and praising him. They were familiar faces—members of the club, fellow students, parents—but he realized he could not say the name of a single one of them. They knew him as the confident, charismatic, straight A student, but beyond that facade, there was little depth to their interactions. As he sipped his drink, Donald felt a pang of loneliness amidst the crowd. These were his supporters, his peers, yet he didn't even know their names.

Turning away from the crowd for a moment, he caught a glimpse of Joe and his crew, who were also members of the club much to his dismay, outside the ornate window. They were simply talking amongst themselves, most likely about his catastrophic debate flop, but something about it... Donald couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy.

He forced a smile as another club member approached, offering congratulations and a hearty slap on the back. This was what he always did, this was okay, just smile. A small spoon clinking against a glass draws the attention of everyone in the room. Donald looks over and sees his father standing on a chair holding up a drink of some kind. He was dressed in his usual well-fitted suit, what remains of his balding head slicked back neatly. "I'm sure most of you are aware of my son's imminent victory," he looks straight at Donald, directing the gaze of everyone else as well, and he grins. His face turns to a portrait of self-satisfaction. The wrinkles and lines of it were etched with authority and expectation. It was a grin that commanded attention, yet it also carried an undertone of condescension. He hated that damn grin. Words of praise fall out of his fathers mouth straight into the ears of everyone in the room and soon applause ruptures from the crowd.

"I also have one more announcement I would like to make," Donald's father says "For all the youth here, if you signed up for the annual best ball duos golf tournament be sure to check the sheets posted around to figure out who you've been paired with as they've just been released."

Fuck, Donald had completely forgot about that stupid annual tournament the club had. He liked golf, sure, but it was the best ball part that got on his nerves. A duo tournament. It annoyed him, other people annoyed him. He hated having to pretend like everything was fine and dandy when he was inevitably teamed up with someone who was always shit at golf. But it's not like he had a say in the matter, his father never even asked him if he wanted to participate, just signed him up without a word. It was a pain in the ass, especially with how he was already busy with the campaign, but it couldn't be helped. After the celebration died down people began to shuffle out.

The first sign something was wrong was the loud and dramatic gasps that echoed from the crowd surrounding the poster holding the pairings for the tournament. At first, Donald thought nothing of it, but as eyes began to turn to him, staring at him with anxious worry, his curiosity started to rise. People shuffled away from the pairings and Donald walks up to check.

***

Joe and Kamala were just about ready to head home for the day when Kamala asked, "Hey, Joe, did you ever end up signing up for the duos tournament?" She remembered they had talked about it a while ago, and Joe had been reluctant to join.

A look of surprise flashed in Joe's eyes. "Oh... right. I completely forgot about that. Yeah, I did sign up," he said, looking down and sighing. "...before I decided I was gonna run. Fuck. Now I have to juggle both things."

Kamala rubbed his back reassuringly. "It'll be okay. Couldn't you just drop out?" But Joe knew that wasn't an option; he couldn't be the reason his teammate got disqualified.

"Nah, I'll do it. It won't be that big of a deal," he said, still looking down. "Thanks for reminding me, but why'd you ask?"

Kamala looked a little giddy. "They release the pairings today. We should go check who you got before we leave."

"You're awfully excited for this," Joe laughed as they turned and made their way back to the club.

"It's fun! Who knows who you could be paired with... maybe a cute guy," she squealed semi-ironically, waving her hands in the air. "Imagine with me, a slow burn golf romance!"

Joe groaned before chuckling. "You sure do have a bright imagination." Kamala gripped his hand tightly and dragged him faster toward the poster.

***

"Fuck," was Donald's first reaction. Just a small whisper under his breath that no one probably even heard. "Fuck." It had to be him. It just had to be. The pairs were randomly generated, but really? His father couldn't have caught this? Fixed this? This was insane. It was stupid. There was no way he was going to team up with him. He wouldn't do it. He just wouldn't.

***

Kamala glanced at the pairings with a frown. She had insisted on checking first, leaving Joe waiting patiently behind her. "Joe..." she muttered in a voice more worried than he'd ever heard from her.

"Who is it?" Joe asked impatiently, beginning to shove his way past Kamala toward the sheet. "Let me see!"

He traced his finger down the listings, looking for his name. Eventually, he found it. His eyes darted across, and his heart dropped. His stomach felt incredibly empty, and he became aware of how dry his throat was.

Joe Biden - PAIR - Donald Trump

End of Chapter 1

why did i write this