Feast

Chapter 3 - 10 Years Ago, 2016

'Grab them by the WHAT?'
Jules slammed down her coffee mug so hard, half of the lukewarm black coffee came back out and created a perfect brown collage on her white marble counters.
'Well he had to have been misquoted. That's just insane. Absolutely insane. Even for him.'
'No Jules, I heard the audio.'
'There's audio of him saying this?'
'There most certainly is. And it's been played almost five and a half million times since it was released. Twenty minutes ago.'
'Well shit they might as well fire me now. They don't need me anymore, he's sunk himself hasn't he?'
'He sure has.'
Jules didn't really know what to do. She had to take herself off her feet in case she might actually faint. She sat on her kitchen barstool, which she managed to take a second to note she had never used until this moment.
Her sole purpose for the past fourteen months had been to stop the catapult that was the current Republican frontrunner. Now, somehow the idiot has gone and done her job for her. She couldn't be totally bummed that he'd taken the credit for what was sure to be his own demise. She truly had enjoyed her work in taking him down publically, considering her palpable disdain for him, so she allowed a moment to mourn the loss of her need to publicly expose every racist, threatening and bullying remark he'd continued to make over the past few months.
She had been so focused on digging for dirt, and begging news outlets to stick to story headings that didn't mislead the actual point of the story she was trying to get out to the public. She'd even bothered to make connections within some of the top news networks and regularly pleaded with them to slow down the hyperactive news cycle to give people a few days to talk about the same hot topic before they hopped on to something else. Now finally, after a failed hope for a rival campaigner of genuine qualification for this job (that was just not being taken seriously for some reason), it looked like her work could all be over, and thanks to him.
At the moment, Jules didn't know or care who would take his place, she just thanked the heavens it wouldn't be him seated in the most powerful seat in the country. But thanking the heavens would have to be brief because Jules would be damned if she let another, potentially worse, candidate slide in without her at least trying to find someone more suitable for the job. Jules' skills didn't fail her though, and a few short weeks later she'd convinced Honor Westin, a local politician, to take a shot at being the first female president.
*
The win happened so fast, Honor's success was obviously in large part thanks to her showing up to a nation who needed someone exactly like her, but Honor would be the first to admit it was also thanks to possibly the largest faux pas in political history.
'We've done it! We've freaking done it!' Jules practically screeched as she turned from her tablet. She had been anxiously watching the votes come in.
'No, you've got to be kidding...' Honor immediately went pale.
'I swear I'm not. At this point...' Jules took a minute to double-check, she was one for numbers, stats, and she didn't ever report anything without being absolutely certain. 'Every single vote that comes in from here on out would need to be for him.'
'Oh my God, I'm going to be sick,' Honor was dead serious as she started to head for the bathroom.
'Nope, dear friend, no time for that, you've got a country to run!' Jules scooped Honor around the waist, and led her into the dressing room to get done-up for her acceptance speech.
'Oh my God is this real?!' came a shout as Liane and Eliza, two of the Equal Rights Party members, burst into the office.
'Yes, girls, very real. And I'd appreciate it if you please keep your composure, the lady of the hour is a bit shaken,' Jules said firmly as she was practically holding Honor up by her waist.
'Yeah, damn Honor, you look like you've seen a ghost,' Liane resisted the urge to offer her a drink, as she was about three deep herself already. She and Eliza had been playing a bit of an election drinking game that had gone very much in their favor.
'I have seen a ghost alright, the ghost of my old self. She's dead, and I didn't quite take this all seriously enough to bid her a proper farewell,' Honor's eyes were darting back and forth, she was really starting to work herself up.
'Okay. We can't continue like this,' Jules grabbed Honor's shoulders and swung around to face her front on. 'Stare into my left eye, Honor. Now!'
'My left or your left?'
Eliza and Liane started to giggle in their tipsy haze.
Jules managed to keep total composure. She had assumed the role of being the rock of the moment. 'Your left. Now, focus on my pupil. Don't look at anything else. If your eyes don't move, you can't think about everything that's gone on in that past or what's about to happen in the future. You'll stay completely in this moment.'
'I don't know that I want to be in this moment,' Honor lamented.
'Just try. You'll feel better soon, I promise.'
Honor complied and stared, hard, into her friend's eye.
Eliza and Liane thought this sounded fun and stepped face to face to mimic the activity. Not without a few giggles and winks though.
'Good,' Jules sounded calm and composed, to balance out Honor's panic. 'Now take a very slow, deep breath for one, two, three, and four. Hold it for one, two, three, and four. Now let it out for one, two, three, and four.'
They repeated this for a couple more rounds, until Honor was doing it without Jules counting aloud. Even Liane and Eliza sounded much more calm, and slightly more sober.
'Brilliant, now how do you feel?' Jules looked pleased with herself.
'Better, honestly,' Honor's shoulders had relaxed, she stood still, and calm, standing much straighter than before.
'You look better. Now, how about we get you into make-up, and go over what we'll say to the public?' Jules was already starting to turn her body to gesture Honor into the next room.
'Sounds good, thanks Jules.'
'That's what I'm here for,' Jules said with sincerity, but couldn't help feeling a little proud of how well she'd de-escalated the situation, pretending to flatten her skirt to hide her smug smile she was sure she had on, she followed Honor into the back room.
Liane and Eliza realized they weren't needed, and went back to their drinking game as the rest of the votes continued to come in and the country braced for the first female president.
*
The country's favorite anchorman, Dylan Quinn had the rights to the first interview with Honor after the election. The newsroom was abuzz with the events from the evening, and the past few weeks. Dylan knew this was the interview of his career, and he'd better not screw it up.
'It has been an election like no other this country has witnessed. Here at US Daily Studios we can feel the eyes of the entire world on us. We know you can feel them watching at home. You're watching the tv, we're watching the candidates, and the world is watching us.
'With less than a week to go before the election, both the Republican and Democrat candidates have been removed from the running for president. One for insider trading charges and the other for self-confessed inappropriate conduct with women. We assumed just as much as anyone else that Lee Johnson, of the Republican party, or Gabriel Pelizarro, of the Independent party, would swoop in to take the front-runner position. What no one, including the press, saw coming was that Honor Westin would come in from left field and win the public's attention, and votes. It was as if for the first time someone could claim the attention of both Democrats and Republicans, while never naming a political party in her iconically short-run, and might I add affordable, campaign. She just spoke to the people. And people, it turns out, are all pretty much the same when you get down to it.
'So ladies and gentlemen watching, wherever you may be, let me proudly introduce our new President, Ms. Honor Westin.'
Honor Westin gave her knowing smile that really did make her look more human than any elected official had ever managed to seem. It was as if she was the housewife, and the working mom, the never-married feminist, and the gun-owning farmer all at once. Her gender won over the women, her good looks and ability to not take shit from anyone won over the men. Her skin color was fair enough for the old white voters, but her working-class upbringing connected with minorities and won them over too. It didn't seem soon enough for a female president. Hell, this country had just had its first black president and had rebounded by nearly elected Daryl Timson, the most outrageous and unqualified Republican candidate the country had ever seen. Surely America wasn't ready for a female president. But somehow Honor did it. If you asked a liberal voter, Honor was a Democrat who just didn't like titles. Yet if you asked a conservative, then Honor was the farthest thing from a snowflake they'd seen.
'Madame President, it's such a pleasure to have you here with us, really.'
'Well Dylan, it's a pleasure to be here.'
'We have to start off by asking some probing questions. You must understand, Madame President, we don't really know much about you.'
Honor chuckled in a sweet, down-to-earth way that showed that she wasn't on edge about being interviewed in front of a few billion people.
'I suppose I do seem mysterious at this point. But I promise that won't be the case for long. I wasn't kidding when I promised a transparent government. No more secrets, Dylan, I can assure you of that.'