It Was All Orange | Biden x Trump

The Awakening

There was something so intriguing about the large, color-printed student council poster hanging idly outside of the office door.  Yet, no one else was staring at it as intently compared to how Joe was. He walks over to the poster, slightly tilting his head to better read the smaller printed words written right below the huge "INTERESTED IN RUNNING FOR STUDENT COUNCIL?" all in bold open sans. The smaller printed words read "come to room 89 for more details." That alone brought a determined smirk to Joe's pale face.

There was no doubt that he was always engrossed in the political environment. Throughout his years of middle school up until senior year of high-school, he often engaged in the "online-pit" of political enthusiasts on social media and joined multiple group chats with his good friend Barack that revolved around politics.

He had nothing to worry about. Besides, there was really no one else that would actually be good enough to run against him. Or at least, till he thought about it more. There was Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (others mostly refer to her by AOC, her initials), Bernie Sanders, Ben Shapiro, etc. etc. Finally clearing that out, maybe now he had nothing else to worry about. That was until he heard an unexpected uproar of noise down the left side of the halls.

Joe swiftly turns his head to the riotous-sounding situation curiously. People in red were chanting these three baffling words, "TRUMP! TRUMP! TRUMP!" and it quickly became louder and louder each time. Many other students that were disrupted by the obnoxious crowd immediately covered their ears with notebooks, trying to block out the noise. A multitudinous number of faces painted with annoyance. Joe even had the look of extreme irritation and he barely ever gets annoyed. He briskly stuffed his air-pods into his ears, cranked up the volume to max, and pressed shuffle onto his playlist.

The songs of Coldplay blasted from left to right, but it wasn't satisfactory. The muffles of the chanting could still be heard. There wasn't an escape route either considering the fact that the exasperating red-coded group had filled up the hallway of where Biden would go to—a dimly lit club room hangout spot with a couple of his friends. Then, a familiar scent of pine filled his sense of surroundings.

"Barack!" Joe says in relief, seeing the back of his best friend's head.

"Joe!"

"How's it hanging with all of that—"

Before Barack could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by the clamor of an angry principal. Principal Washington's eyes flickered towards the array of particular students that were involved in the excessive commotion.

"All of you. What is all of this noise for?" The principal yells in dismay. His burly arms were crossed non chalantly, waiting for an appropriate answer.

The whole school disgustingly became inept as the time went by, and it was only a mere five seconds. It wasn't before long until someone was courageous enough to finally speak up, "Trump is here. Donald Trump is here!"

Donald Trump? Why did that name leave a bad, presumptuous taste to his tongue? Joe crinkled his nose in confusion and tried to look for who they were referring to. Then, the person who spoke pointed innocently to a figure around his height with thin, golden blond straw hair who was dressed in all black with a silver cross necklace. Supposedly this is Donald, and all Joe could make out of him was that he seemed to be too overconfident. An assertive grin was plastered on his oddly orange-colored tanned face. His hands were burrowed in his cargo pants' pockets, feeling unbothered by the stiff tension radiating in the air.

After all the students had their eyes on Donald, he eventually took control of this confrontation, "Principal, you know how much my admirers love me. They all love me because they know I'll make American High great again," the blond chattered, "and i'll have you know i'll make the best student council president."

Joe lifted his head back, astonished by what he just heard. How come he had never heard of his name before? Despite being a sociable person to his peers around him, he has never seen this kid in his life. So there was only one dependable answer: he was new. But what kind of new kid becomes this aggressively self-assured at a new school?

"Donald, I know your parents had recently transferred you here, but could you please behave  and condition yourself to our rules?"

Barack takes a glance at Joe, "This new kid is already
getting on my nerves for being someone new. But I mean, he is rich."

"Are you serious?" Joe whispers loud enough for him to hear.

"Yeah, his parents own like a casino or something."

"Explains everything about his attitude."

The duo continued to stare at the babbling orange, who was still running his ill-mannered mouth at the principal. Joe pondered the thought of whether or not he was going to survive with him in the near future.