Desiree Hinton woke up to the sound of soft classical music playing through the speakers in her room. The melody was an unspoken signal, a reminder that the day ahead would be anything but ordinary. The golden light of dawn filtered in through the curtains, casting a warm glow across her somewhat organized bedroom. The walls were lined with pictures of family moments, personal achievements, and, most notably, moments where she was front and center.

Desiree stretched lazily, feeling the weight of her responsibilities settle on her shoulders like a heavy coat. She ran a hand through her long, dark hair before reaching for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with a flood of notifications — texts, emails, and, of course, a slew of Instagram alerts. She scrolled absentmindedly, pausing only to swipe through the images of her friends, acquaintances, and random followers who always leave kind comments on her posts.

Her eyes lingered on a post about her latest appearance at a charity event. The comments were a mix of praise and criticism, and as usual, Desiree felt the sting of judgment. It was as though people didn't see her as a person, but as a symbol, a political accessory. She hated it. She hated the way the world expected her to be perfect, to be poised, to fit into a mold she didn't ask for.

A soft knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Desiree? Are you awake?" her younger sister Jori's voice echoed through the door.

"Yeah, just a minute," Desiree replied, putting the phone down and sitting up.

Jori, who was 19, walked in wearing a pair of oversized sweatpants and a bonnet on her head. She flopped onto the bed beside Desiree, her phone already in hand.

"Outer Banks?" Jori questioned , as she was going to grab the remote to turn on Netflix.

Desiree smiled, grateful for the normalcy her sister brought into her life. "Sure. I need a break from all the chaos."

The two sisters settled in to watch the show they'd both become obsessed with. It was the perfect escape — a world where they didn't have to be the Hinton family, where they could just be two teenagers binge-watching their favorite drama. For an hour, Desiree could forget about the headlines, the Secret Service agents stationed outside her door, and the ever-present weight of expectation that hung over her like a dark cloud.

When the episode ended, they both reluctantly stood up, stretching as they heard the faint sound of their mother calling them for breakfast.

"Coming!" Desiree shouted, throwing a quick look at the clock. It was already time to face the day.

Breakfast in the Hinton household was never just a quiet meal. The dining room was expansive, with large windows overlooking the manicured gardens of the White House. The family sat together around the table — Desiree, Jori, her 21-year-old sister Penelope, and their parents, the President, Wesley Hinton, and First Lady, Veronica Hinton.

Wesley was a tall, commanding figure, his hair showing a few streaks of gray but his presence still radiating confidence. The Veronica, elegant and poised, sipped her coffee as she read through the morning briefing papers. Nonetheless, her parents were simply her parents. Kinda and loving figures that never caused her to feel any shame or afraid.

"Good morning, sweethearts," her mother greeted them as they sat down. Her smile was warm, but Desiree could see the eye bags that were being hidden with the lights touches of foundation and concealer.

Desiree helped Penelope with her pancakes while Jori grumbled about the latest political scandal she'd seen on Twitter. It was a strange kind of normalcy, the Secret Service agents, clad in dark suits and earpieces, were always nearby, watching. They never seemed to go away, not even during breakfast. Desiree often wondered what it would feel like to just walk out the front door without a guard following her every move, but she knew it was impossible.

"So, Des," her father said, breaking the silence. "You ready for the event this afternoon?"

Desiree nodded, forcing a smile. She had no choice. She was often called to attend high-profile events, charity galas, and state dinners. The public expected her to be the epitome of grace and composure. She was the face of a political dynasty, and every public appearance was either loved or scrutinized by the media and the public alike.

"Yeah, just another event," she said, trying to sound casual. The event that afternoon was a gala for a children's hospital — a cause she genuinely cared about, before her parents became who they were she spent numerous amounts of hours volunteering in the children's hospital, but gate her father got elected in she couldn't just do as she pleased as freely as she wanted anymore.

Jori, smirked. "I swear, you act like you're running for president yourself. I'd go crazy."

Desiree chuckled softly. "You don't have to worry about it, Jori. That's what big sisters are for."

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur of conversation, small talk, and the ever-present hum of tension that came with being part of a family in the public eye.

After breakfast, the family went their separate ways to prepare. Desiree found herself standing in front of her closet, staring at the row of dresses — each one more glamorous than the last, each one more carefully selected to convey the perfect image. She finally picked one, a sleek navy blue gown, and stood in front of the mirror, applying her makeup with practiced precision.

As she made her way downstairs, ready to face the cameras and the crowds, her sisters crowded her, as they always did. Jori with her innocent, wide-eyed wonder and Penelope with her sarcastic grin.

✎ ✎

The event was a blur of flashing cameras, fake smiles, and handshakes. Desiree stood beside her parents, smiling for the photographers, trying to remember what it felt like to be more than just a symbol. She glanced over at Jori and Penelope, who were both engaged in their own worlds — Jori with her phone, Penelope trying to charm everyone in the room with her big, bright smile.

She was expected to be perfect, to embody the ideal of American youth. But as much as she tried to fit into that mold, there was always a part of her that yearned for something more. Something real. Something outside of the endless cycle of appearances and expectations.

As she walked along the carpet, a familiar voice called out from behind her. Desiree turned to find a well-known entertainment journalist, Monica King, holding a microphone and flashing a bright smile. Monica was known for her easy charm and her knack for getting celebrities to let down their guard, and Desiree could already tell she was about to be put on the spot.

"Desiree, over here!" Monica called, waving her hand to catch her attention.

Desiree paused and smiled, making her way toward the journalist. The cameras clicked furiously as Desiree took her place in front of Monica.

"Hi, Monica," Desiree said politely, smoothing the fabric of her navy blue gown. "How are you? Surprised to see you here!"

"I'm doing great, thanks for asking!" Monica grinned. "You look absolutely stunning tonight, as always. But you know, I think everyone is dying to hear a little bit more about you, Desiree. You're usually known for your poised and polished public appearances, but I've heard you've got a secret obsession. Care to share with us what you're binge-watching lately?"

Desiree chuckled, a little surprised at the question. She wasn't used to talking about her personal interests in such a public forum. Still, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

"Well, if you must know," Desiree began, her voice light but with a hint of excitement, "I've been totally hooked on Outer Banks. I know, it's kind of a guilty pleasure, but I can't help it. The drama, the twists — it's just so addictive."

Monica's eyes lit up. "No way! I'm obsessed with that show too. So, tell me, what's your favorite part about it? And who's your favorite character?"

Desiree thought for a moment, her gaze drifting as she considered the question. "mmmm It's definitely the whole adventure and mystery vibe. I love how it's like this constant scavenger hunt for treasure, and the characters feel like they're really going through it, you know? But I think my favorite character has to be JJ. He's just always going through something but at the end of the day he's always been about friendship. You can't help but root for him!"

Monica nodded enthusiastically. "I totally get that. JJ is such a heartthrob. But now, let's get a little juicy. Outer Banks is full of good-looking people, and I'm sure you've noticed a few, uh, potential crushes. Who's your celebrity crush, Desiree? Don't leave us hanging."

Desiree hesitated for a second, feeling a familiar flush rise in her cheeks. She hadn't really had a crush on a boy since her freshman year of high school. Yes, people were cute but she just couldn't allow herself to like someone. But there was something about Monica's warm, inviting demeanor that made her feel a little more comfortable. She gave a soft laugh, as though acknowledging the inevitable.

"Well, if I had to choose," Desiree said, her tone playful, "it would probably be Drew Starkey."

Monica's eyes widened, and the crowd of photographers immediately picked up on the change in tone. Cameras clicked as Monica leaned in with a grin.

"Drew Starkey? Oh, now we're talking," Monica teased. "He plays Rafe Cameron on Outer Banks, right? He's got that whole bad-boy vibe. What is it about him that catches your attention?"

Desiree laughed, her gaze flicking over to one of the Secret Service agents standing just behind the red carpet, but for a moment, she allowed herself to relax.

"Honestly, I think he's just charming but I've also read that he spends a lot of his time volunteering and I genuinely admire that." Desiree said wiping her sweaty palms on her hands without it being obvious.

Monica raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the direction the conversation was going. " I love to hear that Desiree. But hey, I can't blame you. Drew's a great pick. So, tell me, is this crush just for the show, or are you keeping up with his real-life stuff too?"

Desiree hesitated, not wanting to cross any boundaries, but then shrugged slightly, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips.

"I mean I follow him on instagram" Desiree paused and hurriedly finished "but I follow the rest of crew they all seem like kind people" she let out an awkward laugh after.

Monica laughed along with Desiree. "You might just be making headlines tonight, Desiree!"

Desiree felt a brief flicker of nervousness at the thought. But as she glanced at her sisters, who were standing nearby and laughing at some inside joke, she felt herself relax.

Monica smiled "Thanks so much for chatting with me tonight. It's been fun getting a peek into the real you."

Desiree smiled, her cheeks still a little pink from the conversation. "Thank you, Monica. It's nice to talk about something fun every once in a while."

As the interview wrapped up, Desiree moved on down the red carpet, still feeling the buzz of the moment. The crowd around her continued to shout her name, and the cameras clicked and flashed. But in the midst of it all, a small part of her held onto the conversation she'd just had. It wasn't just about being the President's daughter or the polished public figure — tonight, she was just an awkward 20 something year old young woman who had a little crush on a guy she'd seen on TV.

And for that fleeting moment, that felt like enough.