Mr President's son -BoyXBoy- *ACTIVELY EDITING*

Chapter Five*

     "I don't know what you're talking about", I manage, my heart beating out of my chest. I needed to breathe, to get out of here. But they were holding me down.

    "Shut it, fag", One of them snarls, kicking me hard in the side. I cry out, gasping for breath and trying to sit up. As soon as I do, someone kicks the side of my head and everything goes blurry. I lay my head down, desperate for this to stop.

    I was back in my old house. The one I had lived in years ago. Back when my mother was still around and everything was okay. When I was still allowed around normal people, and allowed to socialize. I knew where I was immediately. But I didn't know my attackers, three large men in black, but I knew why you were there. They'd hated me for who I was, who I loved. They were going to kill me before I even got a chance to love.

    "Please!", I beg them, holding up my arm when one of them pulls out a knife. My entire body ached and felt like every bone weighed one thousand pounds. "I'm the presidents son, you'd be arrested! Put to death. You can't kill me, please, please. I can get you anything you want. Just speak to my dad, please!".

I was still his son, right? He'd come to save me. He'd rescues me. He wouldn't let me die.

    They all chuckle, gathering around my body. I was sure I was dying by the crippling pain in my head. "Your father?", one asks, bending down close to my face. "You think your father gives a shit about a fag? Who do you think sent us?".

                            ***

   When I wake, my heart felt like it might fly out of my chest. I put my hand to it, taking in slow and long breaths. They were just dreams. Reoccurring and traumatic, but just dreams. I grab my phone, the time of 6AM boldly presented on the screen.

   I pull the large white blanket off my bed and let me feet touch the cold hardwood floor. I hated those dreams. Every time I had them, they festered in my brain and laid eggs there. I didn't need that, especially now. When I was to meet several teenagers and preach the message in just a few hours.

   I sneak into the more open kitchen, where you're free to make your own things. It's where I think my mom would have made breakfast for us. She'd have been the type of First Lady to insist she could make her own meals. The idea makes me smile, but my heart aches. I missed her.

I push the thought from my brain and open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. I decided to talk a walk along the halls again. Everything seems different when it was dark. Hallways seemed bigger and longer. Rooms felt empty. It seemed like this entire place was a different world, like another dimension.

   I wished I brought my music player. If there was any way to make yourself feel transported somewhere else, it's music. Walking down a hallway can make you feel like the hallway is going to end in crowning glory. Limitless possibilities. I didn't, though. So I was left with the void and the silence until my thoughts crept along.

  I worried about tomorrow. If I'd be attracted to any of them. I knew it was a possibility but I didn't know how I'd react if it happened. I knew I couldn't interact or express those feelings. And they'd be gone by the time I went to bed. But they'd linger here. They'd be in the walls. My head. It was dangerous for me to even expect the possibility of being attracted to one of them, but I knew who I was, no matter how hard I tried to push it down.

    I hadn't had to hide it, so I didn't know how. I also didn't know how the tour would work and if I was leading alone. I doubted it, even though I knew I'd have people following and watching my every move. Don't let the gay kid act gay. I just didn't know how much security they would put on me in the end.

   I pondered and piddled around a little more before hearing voices coming from a random room in the hallway. The Lincoln sitting room, as they'd decided to call. I put my ear to the door, straining to hear what the person was saying.

    I strained to hear it, furrowing my eyebrows. It was my father, and what sounded to be like Melanie. Were they having an affair? Did I even want to hear this?

"The law is the law, Melanie. There is no way around it. An act of treason is an act of treason, no matter the relation", my father says, causing my heart to sink. Could they be talking about me? What did I do? I couldn't have done anything. I just hung around Deacon and Rachel, and neither of them are anywhere near my type. I don't know what my type is, but it's not fifty and it's not female.

"Fine", I finally hear Melanie sigh. "Let's go get him then"

          _________________________

A/N: I KNOW IT'S STARTING SLOW BUT THAT'S THE POINT. NEXT CHAPTER IS THE TOUR WITH THE TEENS ARE YOU EXCITED? I hope you guys are loving this tons and tons. BYEEE)