Not My Vote, But Maybe My Heart: When Mr. Politician Met Ms. Protest(Teaser)

The Problem with Protest Crushes

Emmett sat in the back of his sleek black car, rifling through a stack of paperwork as the driver wove through the city streets. Emmett was a man who valued control, order—he liked things to fall into place exactly as planned. But today, something weighed on his mind.Just yesterday, he'd uncovered a scandal involving his party—a small breach of protocol that led one of his advisors to bury evidence through under-the-table bribes. It was a minor issue in the grand scheme of his work, yet he knew that people like Maeve, the fiery young protestors who saw his party as a faceless force of corruption, would seize on it as fuel for their fervent protests.The car slowed as they turned down a narrow street near the university, and Emmett's thoughts drifted to Maeve. She was young—so young—and yet fearless, boldly challenging the authority his political party represented. He remembered the spark in her eyes, the way her hands moved passionately as she made her arguments.A slight smile crossed his lips. How innocent, he mused. She couldn't have been much older than eighteen, fresh out of high school, her ideals still untouched by the crushing weight of reality, her beliefs driven by books and theories rather than experience. Maeve's world was one of absolutes—black and white, good and bad. Emmett knew that soon enough, reality would wear down her sharp edges, leaving her with more questions than answers. But for now, she was... refreshing, like a reminder of what it felt like to believe in something so purely.The car suddenly lurched to a stop, snapping Emmett's attention back to the present. A figure stood in the road, blocking their path, her silhouette unmistakable even from a distance. It was Maeve. Of all times, she had to show up now—as if the universe enjoyed watching him squirmThe driver muttered under his breath and leaned out the window. "Hey girl, what do you think you're doing, stepping out like that? You know whose car this is?"Maeve stayed perfectly still, her voice firm and her resolve clear. 'I need to speak with Mr. Hastings.With a sigh, the driver gestured dismissively. "Get out of the way. Mr. Hastings doesn't have time for some college protestor's demands."But suddenly a quiet voice broke, "Let her through."Emmett's voice was calm but carried enough authority that his driver immediately fell silent. The driver looked back, clearly reluctant, but he nodded, pulling the car closer to the curb and opening the back door.