When in Sochi

Haters♡

I looked at JR. There was just something about him that made me wanna look at him forever. Maybe it's just my 16 year old self talking... But if if the Fates allowed me to fall in love with him, I'm set. He doesn't have to love me back or anything, but I just want to validate my feelings for him, to differentiate teenage infatuation and genuine love.

"You look deep in thought," he said, noticing my silence.

"That's because I am," I sighed. "I just-"

"-THERE HE IS!"

From the corner of my eye, I saw a crowd of a lethal concoction of both paparazzi and press.

Haters, as they were called. They were the judgmental kind of people.

"How do you feel about you're loss!?" someone asked.

"Does it make you feel bad that you disappointed your country?!"

"YOU ARE THE FAILURE OF THE AMERICAN DREAM!"

I saw JR slowly backing away, the pressure too much for him to deal with. If my judgment was right, I could've sworn I saw tears welling up in his eyes.

"Leave him alone!" I shouted at the angry crowd. "Don't you dare talk to him that way! You people are the most pathetic I've ever seen! Making a living out of tainting the lives of others, now that's just REALLY low."

"You're one to talk," I heard someone say. I couldn't see who said it.

"We need a story to write!" someone else yelled.

"You want a story?!" I fired back. "Well I'll give you one! Please don't write about JR and his loss today. A bunch of US winter Olympic athletes are losing and you only pick on JR?! Do you really think America wants to know that?!" Then I put my conniving skills to good use...

"Write about me and Apolo! I'm not trying to be an attention seeker or a media whore, but it will preoccupy the public, and they LOVE gossip and intrigue because THAT'S ONLY HOW MUCH THEIR MENTAL CAPACITY CAN HANDLE NOWADAYS!"

Man, was I harsh. I was a BITCH in high school. Not the popular bitch, but the awkward, cynical, bitch with attitude.

That quieted the crowd down a bit. Time to drop the axe.

"Now excuse us as we leave you to come up with your wild and crazy stories, but PLEASE. DON'T INVOLVE THIS TALENTED AMAZING BOY IN YOUR BULLSHIT. He deserves better."

I pulled JR by the hand and parted the Red Sea that was the crowd. I can hear cameras snapping and flashing, and I can feel the heat of all the mad-dogging glares from both the paparazzi and the press.

When we were clear, I looked at him and said, "Don't let them get into your head. Just... Don't."

JR smiled. "I appreciate what you did for me back there. I-"

"-JR!" Someone interrupted. Great-_- who can THIS be now.

"Mom!" he said with such joy that I felt bad for trying to hog him. Then he turned to me. "Wanna go meet her?"

I nodded. "Sure."

His mom was a likeable woman. She's Asian and reminded me of my future self. If only I can ever equate to someone like her.

"Nice to meet you," she told me, smiling. She and her son shared the same smile. I felt like the odd ball out, and like I was ruining some kind of mother-son thing, so I excused myself. When JR asked me where I was going, I told him I had to file some paperwork for Mr. Boehner.

"See you later," he said smiling, as he watched me leave the arena.

"See you," I smiled back, waving at his mom. "Nice to meet you!"

And then I took the taxi cab back to my hotel.