Damien's POV

"Hey sexy," A brunette girl says, tripping her way over to me. She reaches her hand towards my face but she suddenly yelps and falls to the ground. I look up to see that Jane is behind her giving her a dirty look. She looks up at me and a smile takes over her face.

"Here you go." She hands me a cup of liquor but before I can take a sip, she drags my other hand out of the kitchen and into the living room. The party is in full swing with the music too loud, people playing strip beer pong in the center of the room, and others making out in dark corners.

"You playing?" Carlos asks and they all turn to me and Jane. We nod and approach the table. I set my cup and Carlos labels it, 'Shirt'. We begin to play and it doesn't take long for Jane to pull her shirt off, showing off her large breasts hidden underneath her bra. Hope wouldn't approve of this, I think.

Fuck. I forgot about her for a second. But it doesn't matter because we're not even dating. But you went on a date with her, my snarky subconscious reminds me. If I were to tell Jane or Carlos they would've never believed me. I don't believe it myself. But deep down, I know Hope isn't like these girls here. She isn't like Jane. In her mind, I'm her boyfriend and I shouldn't be doing this but I don't know what to do about that.

Carlos picks up the pong. It bounces into the cup and Carlos smirks at Juanita and drinks the cup before pulling off his shirt. Juanita rolls her eyes and pretends not to be impressed. After it's Jane's turn- I swear she's missing on purpose- she starts to remove her shorts. I grab her arm.

"Don't," I say and pull of my shirt instead. Carlos hollers while Jane grins at me. She traces her hand down the planes of my stomach.

"You just want me for yourself, huh?" She pulls my neck down to her face. She smells like strawberries, her favorite scent. Her lips inches closer to mine and I mentally slap myself when I turn myself away.

"I'm out of here," I say, surprising everyone including myself. I don't know why, but the thought of Hope being angry with me is enough to want to leave. Is it weird that I want to be with her? It definitely is. But I don't care.

"Why?" Jane says, clearly offended.

"None of your business," I snap. I put my shirt back on.

"Hey, we were just getting started." Carlos protests.

"Sorry man. Gotta go." I walk out of Carlos's apartment. I'll tell them another time.

Hope's POV

"What do you think?" I hear her ask. I open my eyes and lightly gasp. The makeup artist has outdone herself today. I lean forward in the mirror admiring the maroon/beige cut crease she drew on my eye. The blush is noticeable but minimal, contrasting the blinding highlight. I note how the matte lipstick makes my lips look fuller than it actually is. My hair had been styled in loose waves, making me look a bit older.

I smile at her through the mirror. "It's perfect." She smiles back at me and sprays setting spray on my face before rushing me out of the Dressing Room. I'm greeted by another stylist when I enter my room. She has already placed my dress on my bed with jewelry and heels to pair with.

"Thank you," I say pointedly after she gives me instructions. She is still standing there, smiling expectantly at me. I clear my throat.

"Is there anything else?" I ask. She shakes her head. "I can dress myself, thanks." It is then that she gets the hint and finally leaves. I can't help but admire the beautiful dress. It's more like a gown, even.

The stylist had described it as a nude "strapless faille silk ball gown" designed by Vera Wang. I run my hand down the soft texture and admire the tiny details running down the length. My ankle heels are a soft plum color to match with my makeup, although it's hidden by the length of the dress.

When I carefully put on the gown, I realize too late that maybe I do need help after all. The zipper at the back is almost impossible to zip by myself. I pick up the bottom of the gown and open my door slightly. I peek my head out and see Sean talking with Reynolds and a few others down the hall, perhaps about the security protocols for the event tonight. As White House state dinners go, there's lots of people, lots of security, and unfortunately lots of cameras.

"Psst." They don't seem to hear me so I raise my voice.

"Psssssst!" I hiss dramatically in their direction. Sean turns and frowns. I cock my head before closing my door.

A few seconds later, he knocks on the door. "Quick, help me," I say when he enters. I turn my back to him, facing the mirror.

He chuckles when he realizes the situation. "This is below my pay grade, you know."

I scoff. "Do you even get paid that much?" He flicks a finger on my back. "You hit like a baby. Have you seen my parents?" I quickly say, scared he was actually going to inflict unbearable pain on me.

"Your father's talking to Stokes," He says, referring to David Stokes, the National Security Advisor. "And your mother is screaming at the cooks... you look like you're going to puke."

I let out a breath. I turn around when he signals he's done. "I'm just nervous." It's the first state dinner to be hosted by the White House ever since my dad was sworn in just about a year ago. The thought of cameras and reporters watching closely as we pretend to love them for it is overwhelming.

"Just don't fart too loud and you'll be fine."

"That's very helpful. Thanks very much," I mumble.

"You'll be fine," He repeats as he makes his way to the door.

"Great pep talk."

"My pleasure." He closes the door.

"That was sarcastic!" I call after him.

When I finally fasten the straps of my ankle heels, I look in the full length mirror. I look pretty for once and I take a quick picture before heading out the door. I run into my mom, who looks gorgeous as always. She's wearing a multi-dark colored dress with one strap that have a large bow on top, the ribbons running down the sides.

"You look beautiful," My mom comments before Sean informs us that it is time. We walk down the red carpeted stairs to meet my dad. We exit out through the North Portico where cameras, decorated soldiers dressed in white and black with pistols in their hands facing upright, and the Prime Minister of Australia along with his wife are waiting. We greet them and exchange small talk as we appear to be candid for the Photo op. Shortly after, we make our way back inside through the entrance hall lined with red carpeting and into the Great Hall with even more red carpet lining down the halls prepared for today's event.

As we enter the Great Hall, I quietly admire the set up. There are flowers lining all around the walls, creating a beautiful sight with the bright lights from the chandelier. There are musicians dressed in black and red, playing instruments as we pass them by. A camera crew is ahead of us, taking pictures as we walk further down the hall. I try my best to smile until I realize my mom is speaking to Scott Morrison and decide to just go for candid instead. I awkwardly look around and lift my dress a little before dropping it back down in embarrassment.

When we enter the State Dining Room, it is swarmed with people I've never seen before. My mom drags me through person to person introducing me; Dr. Simmons Barlow (what is a doctor even doing here?), Justice Conard Milligan of the Supreme Court and Mrs. Allie Milligan, The Honorable Michael Stilwell and Mrs. Patricia Stilwell, The Honorable Kelly (or was it Claudine?) Merger, and more honorables that I can't remember.

I manage to step away while my mother, the secretary of state, and a Senator from Idaho are talking only to find my dad waving at me. I force a smile through gritted teeth and make my way over to them.

"Hope, this is John Hampton, the assistant adviser to the Prime Minister. He was asking of you."

"Hi, pleasure to meet you." I shake his firm grip.

"I hear you go to Grover University." I nod. "That's amazing, what are you studying?" He asks in a thick Australian accent.

"Criminal Justice, sir."

"Wow, how interesting." He actually seems intrigued. "What makes you want to study law?"

I hesitate. I definitely don't want to talk about Isabelle. "I..."

My dad interrupts. "She's just taking after her grandfather." He says, gently squeezing my shoulders. My mom's father was a criminal defense attorney before retiring and opening up a bakery.

"Aren't all kids these days?" The man whose name I had forgotten says. He laughs for some reason and I chime in awkwardly.

"By the way, you look amazing."

"Thanks," I say nervously.

An hour pass with a musical performance from Maroon 5 and a singer I don't recognize. Apparently there's a few celebrities who attended but the only one I recognize is Jennifer Lawrence, who's actually funny in person as well and Ryan Reynolds. It's a surreal moment but one that I will cherish forever.

Dinner starts and I plaster a smile on my face as adults try making small talk with me, making me feel even lonelier than I was an hour ago. The food is great as usual but I feel small and uncomfortable in such a large room where I can hear officials gossiping about each other. In ten minutes I had found out my dad had fired a staff and SSA for having a sexual relationship to which they didn't bother hiding, the chief cabinet secretary's husband was cheating on her, a staff resigned for an unknown reason (although there were guesses going around), and the Supreme Court of Justice was supposed to be Colleen Miller, but someone ("I bet it was Mark Nolan") had dug up immoral activities she did in college. When the dinner is finally over and another band starts performing, I sneak out of the State Dining Room and find my way to the Truman Balcony. Luckily, no one is here as of yet and I sit down and close my eyes, the wind softly caressing my skin.

"You're okay?"

I turn to see Sean by the door. I frown. "Are you supposed to be here?"

"No," He admits. "I saw you leaving. You looked upset."

"I'm just... thinking about Isabelle." I admit. He takes a seat beside me and nods but doesn't say anything.

"Do you think she's happy right now?" I ask him.

"I think so. Who wouldn't be?"

"Yeah, I guess... Is it true that my dad canceled an interview to go to an arcade in Pennsylvania?" I narrow my eyes at him to carefully gage his reaction. He doesn't even flinch.

"What makes you think that?"

"Turns out politicians are a bunch of gossipers."

"Well don't believe everything you hear."

"Hmm," I say, still studying him. His face is undeterred. "You know what? I believe it. I can't believe he'd gone without me. I swear he went to Club Getaway without me-"

Sean laughs. "You're very gullible, aren't you?"

"I'm not! I just know my dad well."

"I know him better."

I narrow my eyes yet again. "Spill."

"I'll tell you but I would have to kill you." His face is alarmingly straight.

"Very funny." We sit there in silence, enjoying the night air while the thought of my father's betrayal lay over me.

*****

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