Beyond the Empyreal Stars

o3.

o3.

After three years, Duke Mitchell was used to the fanfare that followed when he was out in public, especially stepping out of the front doors of the school. It still baffled him, all the cameras taking pictures as they headed for the black Suburban with dark tinted windows, like they would catch the president's kids doing something that would sell more papers or get more traffic on their webpages.

"We're leaving school," his sister Lizzie huffed out as she pulled her backpack up on her shoulders. She shared in his dislike. "How interesting is that?"

"You'd think they'd get bored, huh?" he grinned over at her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Right?" she exclaimed once they jumped in the back of the Suburban. "Three years. Three years, we've been dealing with this. More than three years, actually, with the campaign before."

"They're waiting for us to make a bad move so the whole world can hear about how the kids of the president messed up everything. And it's only going to get worse with the reelection campaign."

She groaned, putting a hand to her head as she leaned back into the leather seat. "Don't remind me."

Duke laughed as his sister's theatrics as their two Secret Service agents, Blackwell and Massey, got in the front.

"The coffee shop, as usual?" Massey asked, looking back at Duke.

He nodded, pulling his seatbelt across his chest before clicking it into place. "Yep. Carson should be there by now."

"And Maeve," Lizzie piped in. "We've got an English project we've got to work on..."

As they pulled away from the curb, the cameras flashed before they were finally able to get away. By now, they were used to all the cameras, having been thirteen and ten when their father announced his presidential run. And, like he told her, it was only going to get worse. Their older brother Clark had been twenty-one at the time and quickly became every teenage girl's dream guy...and their older sister's.

He had gone into the Marines straight out of high school and shipped out to the Middle East. After five years and three tours of duty, he'd come home to stay, honorably discharged, though still not really the same guy who left. Now, three years later, he was lying low, running a coffee shop – Mugs – in Georgetown.

Duke stared out the window at the buildings flying by. He'd practically lived his entire life in D.C. since his father had been a New York Senator before the President of the United States. It was still another thing to get used to, though, having your life broadcast around the country and the world. Going to parties and state dinners and press conferences...that was something in itself.

But now, he was just going to be a normal eighteen-year-old.

After the twenty minute drive, they pulled behind the brick building where the coffee shop was located. As they got their things together, Blackwell jumped out to open the back door for them. Lizzie grinned as she jumped out before Duke, rushing for the door without waiting on her older brother.

Within a few steps of reaching it, the door swung open, revealing a smirking Clark. "I found it strange that Carson and Maeve got here before you two. Usually, you're all rushing in together."

"Blame that one," Duke grinned, pointing to Lizzie. "She's the one who takes forever."

"I had to turn in our outline for our project before Mrs. Yeager took off any points our grade, so shut it."