The Music Or The Misery (FOB FanFic)

Chapter 23

Author's Note: I'm sorry for all the publishing confusion. My internet wasn't working and I couldn't save it and then I accidentally pressed published when it wasn't finished, so then unpublished it and...I'm so sorry. Here's the real chapter and I hope you like it! -Rachael

In only a matter of minutes, the whole country was forever changed.

Joe's finger wrapped around the trigger and lingered there for a moment or two. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, before rolling down the side of his face.

Pete watched Joe intently, the corner of his lips unconsciously curling upward into a smile as he anticipated the murder of the man sitting at the head of the table.

Mara's posture straightened ever so slightly as she took in a sharp breath.

Patrick brought his hand up and nervously tugged at his collar, the room becoming at least ten degrees hotter.

The president's eyes grew wide, suddenly realizing that the four of them weren't there to help devise a plan to oppress the underground tyrants, but were there to end his life. To end the misery he'd inflicted on countless innocent people simply doing what they loved.

Before he could even attempt to bargain for his life, Joe's finger pulled back and a bullet flew out of the barrel of the gun. The bullet spiraled through the air before implanting itself in the president's forehead, splitting the skin and breaking through the skull, lodging itself into the frontal lobe of the brain. The force of the impact sent the president backwards. The chair collapsed to pieces underneath the president as he crippled to the side, blood pouring out of the small hole Joe had created.

Everyone left sitting rose to their feet, looking down at the president. The double doors flung open and Alex and Gabe peered into the room, having heard the gunshot. In fact, everyone in the White House had heard the gunshot. And because of this, they didn't have much time to escape.

"Come on!" Alex whispered angrily underneath his breath, "We need to go!"

Joe, Pete, and Mara rushed out of the room without hesitation and began making their down the hallway, casually walking, though, as to not appear or seem suspicious. Alex followed shortly after.

As for Patrick, he remained in his place, staring down at the man who ruined his life, who made him lose everything he cared about, everything that was important to him. And no matter how hard he tried, he had no remorse, not one bit.

"Come on, Patrick," Gabe muttered, entering the room and grabbing the singer's hand, yanking him away. The two exited the room and darted down the hallway, going in the direction the other four had escaped in.

Upon breaking out, the two were stopped dead in their tracks. Kneeling on the steps were Pete, Joe, Mara, and Alex, their hands behind their heads. Blocking their escape route was a semi-circle of policemen and FBI agents, their guns pointed and aimed at the White House back doors.

"Put your hands up and drop your weapons!" A voice sounded over a megaphone. Patrick and Gabe complied, falling to their knees and mirroring the four people in front of them.

Once they knew it was safe, a mix of FBI agents and policemen flooded past the group and into the building. The rest stood back, keeping their weapons at ready.

"I thought you said this was going to work," Pete whispered under his breath to Mara, who glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye.

"It was supposed to," She whispered back.

"Well does it look like it worked?"

"No talking!" The voice over the megaphone exclaimed. Mara rolled her eyes and Pete bit his lip.

Seconds later, an FBI agent returned, having down the halls to deliver the news that, "He's dead. The president's dead."

A blanket of silence fell over the yard, a few men lowering their weapons.

"He's dead," The man repeated, his breaths short and uneven, "The president's dead."