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

Chapter fifteen*

I was walking through the kitchen when I heard someone slam the door. Then the sound of a ranting and loud voice. I peek out the door to see Gale pacing the floor, nervously chewing on the inside of my cheek. "I swear to fucking mother earth, I hate my god damn father", he swears when he sees me. I raise an eyebrow and come completely out of the door.

    "What's he done?", I ask quietly. I knew how touchy these situations could be. I couldn't even imagine beginning to attempt it. I wanted him to, I wanted him to know he could. "Come on, we're friends. Talk to me about it", I push, taking a step towards him. He takes one back, a look of disgust evident on his face.

    "Friends? We're not friends. Just because we hang out sometimes you think we're some sort of besties?", he laughs. My heart sinks and I have to look down to keep him from seeing my expression. "Just go suck up to your homophobic father and burn the gays. You know what they say. Burn the gays and put them woman in the kitchen", he replies. With that, he turns and storms back out of the white house.

    I feel the anger boil inside of me and I slam the door back open. "For your information, Gale", I yell and spit his name. "I don't know where you plan to even go. It's not like you have anywhere else! You're stuck! Just like me!". I slam the door closed, running up to my room. I couldn't believe what I'd just said, or what he'd just said.

    I sit on my bed, breathing heavily as I hold back the tears. As if I gave a shit what he does. He isn't my responsibility. If he wants to be a total dick, then he can be one. But he'll be alone when he does.

But the truth was I did care, and the reminder of his words echoed in my head. We weren't friends. He just hung out with me because there wasn't anyone else. As if I expected different. I felt like an idiot for even thinking for a second he was here for any other reasons than his own personal gain. I didn't know what the gain was, but it certainly wasn't me.

    It was about half an hour later when I heard a soft knock on my door. I sit up quickly, my heart speeding up as I utter a come in. The door opens, revealing Deacon. My disappointment was evident on my face as I lay back on the bed with a groan. "Well nice to see you too", he scoffs, tossing a bag of something beside my head.

"You're not drugging me, are you?", I ask, slowly peeking in the bag. "Gale already did that", I mumble under my breath. In the bag, there was a shit ton of red and blue sour gummy worms. My favorite. My eyebrows furrow in confusion and I look up at the man. "Who are these from?".

    "Well, I didn't get them. Your father didn't get them. None of the workers did. So that means", he looks at me and tilts his head.

   "Gale", I whisper, and look down in the bag again. I pick one up, inspecting it before taking a bite. "I don't understand. He said absolutely horrible things to me. And I said horrible things back". I look down, sighing as I put the bag on the nightstand.

   Deacon sits down on the edge of my bed and looks at me. "Can I tell you something?", he says. I look back at him and nod. "Sometimes..when there are two people who", he pauses for a moment, searching for his worlds. "Want to form a connection and a friendship, a bond, they make sacrifices for each other and suck it up". I pause, thinking it over before nodding and Deacon stands. "Maybe take note of that, yeah?".

     "Of course, I appreciate you", I tell him and he gives me a small smile before leaving. I indulge in a few more words before laying my head back, my eyes closing on their own in a deep sleep I hadn't expected.

    I was in a dark room, only very little light coming through the window. It was as if I was in a dungeon. There were two people on the other side of the room and another person in what looked to be a surgical table made out of stone. "Excuse me?", I call out to them. I tried to look closer but the larger man was guarding the person on the table.

    I walk closer to them, holding my breath but not walking quietly.  When no one turns around, I tap the man on the right on the shoulder. He was more slender, and I figured if I had to fight, I'd take my chances with the small dude. When they turned around, it wasn't a man. It was my small faced mother. She had a surgical mask on and a syringe in her hand. "We're busy", she spits. My mouth falls open and I take several steps back, placing a hand over my mouth. My lips utter a soft word, attempting to call my mothers name.

    My eyes land on the person on the table and ice cold water floods my veins. Gales face beaten almost unrecognizable, and he had tubes coming out of almost every part of his body. "What is this?" I sob out. I don't get a response. What I do is get my own mother shoving me away from the table before sending a syringe into my body.

I jolt awake and sit straight up, sweat rolling off of me.

     I get up and wipe off the remains of the worms off of me. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, and I couldn't stop imagining Gales face like that.

Wanting to make sure he was okay, I find myself wondering into Gale's room. "Gale?", I call out. He wasn't in there. But there was something on his bed, under his pillow. It was as if it had been hid, but someone was in a rush and didn't hide it very well.

    I walk over to it and pick it up. It was a folder labeled "Article1". And inside, was information all about the revolution.