G8 Meeting

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Justin walks into building where the meeting is being held, nervous and sweaty. His bag would have fallen from his hands had he not been grasping it firmly. The cold air of an American building hits him as he enters, sending a shiver shiver down his spine. The world seemed to slow down as he walked to his seat labelled, "CANADA". He puts his bag on his seat before retrieving different items he would need for the meeting.

As he runs through his mental checklist, a familiar man aproaches him, Donald J. Trump. Justin has admired the man for his caristhma and money and nothing else. The two leaders disagree on many things, resulting in a lack of communication between them.

"How have you been, Mr. Trudeau?" Donald asks, putting a hand on Justin's shoulder.

"Well, and you, sir?"

"Great as always. You be a good young lad now. You wouldn't want to get into any more trouble," Donald says, walking away.

Justin freezes. "How does he know?" He thinks. "Eh, television." He continues to unpack his stuff when yet another, much more attractive, man, in his eyes, approaches. His brown hair reflected the light from the ceiling, and his smile seeming to light up the room. His name is Emmanuel Macron.

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⏰ Last updated: Jul 24, 2020 ⏰

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