“Which channel will be handling the speeches?” Jonghyun asked in a frazzled tone even as he typed furiously at the keyboard.

“All major broadcasters,” Hyori replied shortly.

The two wordsmiths of the administration were sitting opposite each other at Hyori’s desk, heads burrowed and fingers whizzing over their keyboards. Their eyes were focused on the screens, words, phrases and sentences rushing through their minds at 100 miles per hour, seeking to condense apologies, reassurances, determination, empathy, justice, confidence and resolution in a short 400 words.

What would be the best turn of phrase? What would sound most sincere? What would inspire trust and calm both at once?

Jonghyun had brought his laptop into Hyori’s office unbeckoned earlier, well aware of the fact that two minds were better than one and highly conscious of the time constraint. He had typed out 5 different variations of the starting paragraph in the short span on 1 minute, and it was now time to bounce them off Hyori.

“Hyori, listen,” Jonghyun cleared his throat before reading off his screen, “At 6.45am this evening, a tragic incident occurred in America. Driving a black Mitsubishi Bevre loaded with explosives, Tom Perrier, a white American male entered the Arch, detonating it at approximately 150m into the bridge. XX lives have been claimed as a result, and many more are injured. Even now, rescue efforts are continuing, as the civil force labours into the night to uncover those who may be trapped under debris.

It is a time of mourning in America.”

“Too sad,” Hyori replied, “And you are just fact-dumping. There is no need to have the President say all that when Kibum can be the one to do it. In fact, you sound like a reporter.”

Jonghyun nodded, immediately starting on another new page, “Right. Makes sense.”

“My turn,” Hyori said, “Today, a White American male bombed the Arch in his attempt to shake the foundations of our nation. Unprovoked and unwarranted, it is yet another assault at the American values in our war against terrorism. In a stunning display of misguided ignorance, Tom Perrier detonated 32 tonnes of explosives on the bridge, claiming the lives of innocent Americans, and injuring thrice as many.

We have lost our mothers, we have lost our fathers and some of us may have lost our children in this latest battle. We may be teetering on the edge of anger and despair, but let us not—“

“Too must flag-waving, Hyori. It sounds like we are high on nationalism.”

Hyori scanned her eyes quickly over the paragraph. “Point taken,” she acquiesced.

And it was through such rounds of revision and validation that the final speech was derived. They might not have the best speech at the first draft, and they might not have the perfect one at the last draft, but the 2 of them together were going to damn well make sure that they come so close to it they could smell it.

Working for the President meant they had to nail down each and every single speech, situational limits be damned.

-

The newscaster hovering at the side exchanged a few quick words with the cameraman. Nodding, she straightened, heading towards the president in short, measured steps. However, Kibum intercepted before she managed to reach the president, and she was taken aside for a short conversation.

Meanwhile, the president sat in his seat behind the famous Resolute desk, his feet firmly planted to the ground and his hands put together loosely. The completed speech now rested before him and he read through the opening sentences of the address once again, mood morose as a heavy burden dragged on his shoulders.

He was the leader of the free world, the commander in chief to the world’s strongest military force. Yet, at this moment, there was little he could do to improve the situation.

The president felt hopelessly impotent.

“Mr President, we are going to start soon,” Kibum approached with a tie in hand, “And I am sorry for the hassle, but apparently the striped tie you have on now doesn’t show up well on the screen. We will have you change into this instead.”

A solid dark blue tie was proffered to the president then, and he eyed it with an unamused eye, “The Arch has just been bombed and here we are, changing my tie. And we wonder why the people think I am not doing any work.”

Kibum’s mouth thinned into a line, “We have to take care of the technical—“

“Nevermind,” the president cut him off, taking the tie offered and pulling the one he had off in a frustrated gesture, “I will wear it.”

The tie was quickly replaced and the president resettled back into his position before the desk.

The cameraman called out, “We are going to begin in 10 seconds.” He paused, “Five, four, three, two, one.”

And the camera started rolling.

The president begun.

“I am President Yoo Jaesuk of the United States of America…”

-

Jonghyun leaned back on his chair, gaining some sort of sick satisfaction at the sound of his bones cracking as he popped his head from side to side. The television was on and currently switched to the channel the president was giving a live broadcast.

“He’s doing well,” Hyori said, arms crossed as she leaned against the table.

“The president has always been a skilled orator,” Jonghyun replied without much thought, echoing a much-heard refrain that the press had been particularly liberal with when describing the president (especially during the campaign trail). He wriggled his toes trapped in his shoes, and debated the merits of kicking them off for better comfort.

“Hey,” a third voice joined the conversation and Minho entered Hyori’s office. The two looked up as Minho glanced at the television, slotting himself neatly in the space between Jonghyun and Hyori, “I missed the opening sentence. How is he doing?”

“As usual. Great.” Hyori replied.

Minho nodded at that before sparing a quick look at Hyori before returning his attention back to the screen, “Good job on the speech by the way.”

“Hey, don’t I get any credit around here?” Jonghyun protested without much force.

“I did most of the heavy lifting—“ Hyori’s retort was cut short when her attention was grasped by the words the president was saying on television, “Wait, the president is going off-course.”

Jonghyun straightened up in his chair, “What? Are you—“

“Shhh,” Hyori put his finger up to his lips, shushing him.

“…And I condemn the atrocious act of criminality committed against our people today, and I condemn and swear retribution on the terrorists who had the audacity to kill the good people of America. As the president of the United States, I promise to dedicate the full force of the FBI, the entire strength of the CIA, the might of our great nation in bringing the criminals to justice so that lives would not be lost in vain—“ At this, the president stopped abruptly, as if caught unprepared by a sudden thought.  

He paused for a second before continuing, slightly wavering, “So that lives would not be lost in vain… Lives, lost in vain…”

The president stopped again, before he eventually shook his head, the iron in his eyes replaced with something softer and more empathetic, “I am sorry for the disruption, and I am afraid for taking a short detour now. But lives have been lost, and no matter what we do, no matter whether the terrorists are apprehended, lives have been lost and they will not be returned. Today, this evening, the lives of a hundred and thirty two Americans have been abruptly ended.

“Frederick Hunt, a thirty-two years old engineer was on his way home when a sudden explosion went off. His car shook and Frederick began bleeding from his right ear. His eardrums were damaged and Frederick was frightened. He didn’t know what to do, but still Frederick got out of his car because in the distance, in the proximity of the explosions, Frederick could see a tiny hand waving for help in an upturned car.

“He got out of the car and saved the owner of the little hand, burning his hands in the process and taking in lungfuls of poisonous smoke. But thanks to the heroic efforts of Frederick, a little girl by the name of Marianne got to live another day.

“And so, even as we mourn the lives of those who had gone before us, even as we swear vengeance on those who had erred against us, let us remember that even in times of darkness, light exists. Let us celebrate the lives of those who are living, let us celebrate the lives of those who have survived. Do not let guilt plague us who have managed to live through the bombing, but rather, let us promise to live better, to live stronger because the streets of heaven are too crowded with angels tonight.

The president paused, “Because the streets of heaven are too crowded with angels tonight, and these angels would not want us to live under the perpetual shadow of anger and hatred.”

The detour was empathetic; it was sorrowful and it was resolute. Hyori’s office fell into silence, and Jonghyun could feel a strange feeling gripping his heart.

“Well now,” Minho said, his voice strangely thick, “That’s our president for you.”

-

After the speech which had exceeded everyone’s expectations, Jonghyun decided to take a short break in the staff canteen. His stomach growled a few times during the transmission, and Jonghyun did not want to risk gastritis.

Through some strange fate or another, Hyori, Kibum and Taemin ended up gathering in the canteen too though.

“The Jihadist channel in the Middle East has been celebrating the bombing,” Hyori updated as she scrolled through her phone.

“Huh?” Jonghyun looked up from his soggy mess of cheerios that he had been stirring mindlessly.

“There are reports of the people congratulating one another on the success of the attack,” Hyori’s voice took on a sarcastic tone, “Three cheers for killing off hundreds of innocent people whom they had never come into contact with. Three cheers for killing off people in the name of God, people whom were just minding their own business and going about their own lives, people who probably had never done any harm to those Iranians. That kind of thing, you know.”

“Probably in some sort of religious euphoria now,” Kibum added.

“I don’t get it. What sort of madmen would be happy about the indiscriminate killing of people?”

“There are two types of madmen,” Kibum put out two fingers, “Mad and madder. Which group do you think those fundamentalists belong to?”

“How about maddest? A screw loose, all of them. But what’s new in this crazy world of ours?” Hyori sighed before pushing her chair back and standing up, “On another note, I have to go and chaperone the news channels now.”

“MacNelly still giving you trouble?”

“No script deviations means no script deviations, but sometimes I feel that MacNelly doesn’t understand English. Either that, or she is selectively dumb.”

A chorus of half-hearted sympathies echoed around the table as Jonghyun slurped up another mouthful of cheerios and milk that was starting to taste more and more like baby food.

“Good luck, Hyori,” Kibum called out, “Try using your voodoo skills and maybe she will listen.”

“I think a media blackout and zero access to the president for the next 6 months will be a better bet,” Hyori replied drily, “But thanks, Kibum. You never know when I will need to put your advice to test. Speaking of which, can I have a strand of your hair?”

Kibum rolled his eyes, “Get out of here, girl. Before Donghae gives the storefront away, and you find yourself having to deal with the media having full access to the president for the next year.”

Hyori paused in her footsteps, widening her eyes, “Donghae? Didn’t I put Heechul in charge, that sneaky bastard?”

“Heechul called in sick sometime in the afternoon. Acute gastritis or something along those lines,” Jonghyun supplied helpfully, “Said he was getting chubby and went on a single meal diet for the past 2 weeks.”

“Wait a moment,” Hyori said slowly, “Are you telling me Donghae is the only one with the hyenas—“

“You know,” Taemin spoke up suddenly, “My sister’s estate used to have this huge beehive hanging off one of her trees.”

“Yes, Hyori, that’s what I have been trying to tell you since a minute ago,” Kibum said somewhat patronizingly, “Don’t you even keep track of your staff?”

“My niece hated it. She hated the bees that would fly out of that disgusting looking beehive and harvest pollen from the flowers. ‘They are spoiling the flowers, uncle’ she would always complain to me, ‘I can’t even go near the flowers now because they will bite me.’” Taemin continued, “And I told her not to be afraid of the bees, because they wouldn’t harm her unless she aggravates them first. But, still she hated them because they were ugly and her teacher taught her bees were dangerous.”

“Sorry if I was kept busy with the speeches; one of which the president just gave, and another which will be given tomorrow,” Hyori deadpanned before turning to look at Taemin, “And what the hell are you going on about.”

“So, my sister got a pest exterminator down to her place one day and they hazed the bees and killed them all. Some of the dead bees fell out of the beehive while the exterminators were removing it, and instead of being sad at all the dead bees that were dotting the grass, my niece ran around the place, clapping her hands because now she could ‘finally play in the gardens.’”

“Kibum, you may want to check with Seungho when’s the last time Taemin went home,” Hyori eyed Taemin skeptically just as she readied herself to leave, “I have to go now.”

“Hyori, I know my niece is not evil, I know she is not mad,” Taemin said, “But why do you think she’s so happy to have the bees dead and gone?”

“Because a bee’s sting is poisonous? Because common sense tells us a beehive full of territorial bees is dangerous? Taemin, I don’t have time to deal with this.”

“But things had been going on fine for the past few years. The beehive had been at my sister’s place for over two years before they removed it, Hyori,” Taemin persisted, “There wasn’t really a need for them to kill the bees.”

“Just because things were ok during that two years doesn’t mean that things will be ok in the future. Best to be safe than sorry,” Hyori said impatiently, “And Taemin, Donghae is probably promising the MacNelly an hour of free Q&A this very minute.”

“I don’t suppose that’s what the Iranians feel.”

“What.” Hyori clicked her tongue and looked at her watch.

“Taemin,” Kibum said, “Stop keeping Hyori back. She needs to rescue Donghae.”

“The Iranians have been taught since young that Americans are bad, that the Western world is hell. They have been taught that we are devils and demons and most definitely dangerous. Their holy mission is to cleanse the world of our influence, and they do so because that’s the only truth they have been brought up to,” Taemin paused and took in a deep breath, “They are not mad. They are just…”

“Huh.” Jonghyun stopped stirring his bowl of cheerios.

“Just,” Taemin gesticulated inarticulately, “Misguided.”

“Did you just compare Iranians to your niece, and us to bees?” Hyori sounded incredulous.

Taemin shrugged.

“Well, that all sounds good and all the way you put it,” Hyori continued, “But to call them misguided puts us in a superior position. Where do you get the confidence that we are in the right, and they, in the wrong?”

“Killing people indiscriminately can’t be right.”

“We have been to their country with our military force. We have killed their people too.”

“Which proves my point on how they judge the entire western world after only seeing one facet.”

“And you feel that all these bombings can be avoided if we understand each other better?”

“And if we start thinking of each other as equals.”

“And what bright solutions do you have to bring this into reality?”

“Rather than keeping the Iranians at arm’s length, we can strengthen our efforts to improve the relationship between the two countries,” Taemin began speaking faster as he gained confidence in his ideas, “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. The way to go is through a cultural exchange. Let the younger generation come into our country and learn that religion isn’t everything. That there can be more to life than worshipping, that their priests do not know the world’s truths and that plurality breeds understanding and diversity. Let the younger generation come, and then let them return to their country and share their newfound knowledge with their peers. Let them come, and then let them go.”

Silence fell. Except for the sound of Jonghyun’s spoon scraping the plastic spoon (who had resumed stirring his bowl of cereal), everyone else was silent.

“You hear that, Kibum? You hear that, Jonghyun?” Hyori finally said.

“The logistics is one fine hell hole, Taemin,” Jonghyun looked at Taemin.

“You never know till you try.”

“And that’s why I am saying ‘is’ and not ‘will’,” Jonghyun returned his attention to his cheerios, debating between pouring them away and wasting food, or eating them and doing a disservice to his stomach.

A lightbulb went off in Taemin’s head, “You mean, we have been doing this already?”

“Keyword being ‘try’,” Kibum replied, “And Hyori, are you sure you should still be here?”

‘’ was the last word heard from Hyori before she disappeared from the staff canteen, rushing away to secure the negotiations.

“Why don’t I know about this?”

“Because you are the Aide to the President, and have about as much clearance as the average Joe on the streets,” Jonghyun finally decided to throw away his cereal, “Can you imagine the public outcry if they find out that the administration wants to bed Iran?”

Taemin digested the idea silently, “So why are you telling me this now?”

“Because if you are to bring the idea to Seungho or the president, which I believe you will, they will have to tell you either way,” Jonghyun watched with grim satisfaction as glops of cereal mush fell into the black trashbag, “So we may as well save them the trouble and tell you now.”

“Oh. I see.”

“But it’s a good idea nonetheless,” Kibum encouraged, “Keep them coming.”

“The programme has been a failure, Kibum,” Jonghyun pointed out, “Stuck in the limbo since forever.”

“Haven’t you heard about the new STRETCH initiative? Cut Taemin some slack; let him bounce his ideas off freely without fear of being judged,” Kibum glared.

“Er, sure,” Jonghyun said dubiously, “Weren’t you vehemently against it when HR proposed the idea? Something about how fools should keep the mouths shut?”

Just as Kibum was about to give Jonghyun the smack he so richly deserved, Taemin interrupted, “How long has the existing programme been in progress?”

“Eleven years? Was it eleven years, Kibum?” Jonghyun scrunched up his brows as he tried to recall.

“Yea, coming up to a decade in August,” Kibum nodded as he reined his anger in.

“I am eleven years late, huh,” Taemin said mostly to himself.

“Better late than never,” Kibum shrugged. He paused, before continuing, “Which I hope is what Hyori would be able to say after the media negotiation. Donghae had better not make any agreements with MacNelly before Hyori arrives.”

“Donghae ,” Jonghyun commented, “As a negotiator, I mean.”

“If you know Heechul was gone, why didn’t you help out?”

Jonghyun looked away guiltily, “I was busy.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really.”

“Jonghyun, it’s funny how you keep trying to lie to me.”

“You’re not my mum, Kibum,” Jonghyun said as he washed his bowl.

“Thank god. If I were to have a kid like you, I think I would have popped a vein,” Kibum raised his hands dramatically as he peered over Jonghyun’s shoulders, eyeing his efforts to clean the bowl with a skeptical eye, “And you missed a spot, Jonghyun.”

“What did I say about you not being my mum?”

“As a White House staffer who may have to use the same bowl next time round, it is my duty to make sure you leave everything in a better state than when you found it.”

“I found it unwashed in the sink.”

“What a bad liar you are, Jonghyun.”

And as Jonghyun and Kibum continued bantering away, Taemin slipped out of the canteen, heading back to the president’s office.

Being the son of one of the top tort lawyers in the world, the grandson of a justice and a member of one of the oldest family in New Hampshire, Taemin had always been groomed for success. He was assigned the brightest tutors since young, given the best education possible and had always been challenged to exceed his potential.

Wherever he went, Taemin was used to being the biggest fish in the waters, the brightest tack in the box. All his ideas were brilliant, innovative and realistic. His professors couldn’t get enough of him.

But now that he had come to the White House, Taemin knew for sure he had joined the big leagues. This place was a gathering point for the brightest people in the nation; people who had been in the field far longer than he did, people who had the experience to back them up.

Taemin could no longer be as self-assured as he did, nor could he impress the people quite as easily. (Hyori, for one, was one perceptive ; note to self: never let Hyori knows that he thinks of her in that manner.) Not even the fact that one of the rooms in the White House was named after Taemin’s ancestors afforded him any leeway, because merit was the only thing worshipped in this place and bloodline could be trash as far as the senior staffers were concerned.

So, it could be said that Taemin was mildly unnerved because these were unfamiliar grounds he was treading. Unfamiliar grounds where he was no longer the top of his class, where he was no longer the one who was ahead of the curve, the one who pre-empted everything even before it happened.

Because while he was one move ahead of others, the people here in the White House were two moves ahead, three moves, four moves, five moves and so on and so forth. Things in the White House were in a constant whirlwind, with so many events and situations cropping up in a day that Taemin was in perpetual amazement at how Seungho and Minho could keep the show running.

But Taemin was here to learn, and learn he would. He would do his utmost best to learn the ropes and sponge up all the knowledge the White House staffers throw his way.

He would learn, and he would take all the he had learnt back to the office on the 64^th floor of the London skyscraper his dad had waiting for him back home. This place was just a stepping stone for the heights Taemin wanted to scale.

Politics was nice and all, but Taemin’s ambitions exceeded that. 

Sorry for the long wait! And sorry for screwing up the speeches too!