Prologue

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A/N: Wow I hate myself for writing this but I ship it hard. Anyways most of the writing would be fictional mainly due to the fact that location, politics, and U.S security would make this story impossible to sound remotely real with the way it actually works in real life. So for the sake of the flow of the story, I will try my best to make it sound as real as possible with the exceptions of a few misconceptions and guesses of the ins and outs of the way things work with this stuff. This is the prologue so not much but an intro. Enjoy.

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The massive grandfather clock ticked loudly in the hall passed the oval office, making the sound echo down the seemingly empty halls of the White House. The distant sound reached the ears of Barron Trump who was standing behind the curtained window. No movement, no additional sound. The boy didn't let his dead gaze move from the window. Pursing his lips, the young teen let out a heavy sigh. He wished he could open the window, alas another curse in this government home prohibited him not to due to security reasons.

Turning around and walking to his bed, he sat at the foot of the mattress and allowed his head to lie low. A loud knock dawned upon his ears and instantly pulled his head back up to be greeted by his mother who was standing at the double doors of his bedroom. 

"Barron," she spoke with her heavy accent dripping from her voice. Sitting up straight, her son replied with a simple, "yes?". She dusted her pleated dress and took a step further into the room. 

"Father is still out at the golf course." She spoke to her son in Slovenian. Barron tilted his head to the side with his brows furrowed in slight confusion. 

"Okay, mother." He replied back in their native language. "Did something happen?"

"Well," She started. "With everything that has been going on lately, I feel maybe it would be nice to go back to New York, you know near your old school for a bit to relax. At the old home." Barron's face lit up for a mere second before more confusion dawned to him again. He ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair before standing up from his seat on the bed, towering over his mother. 

"How come?" He asked. Realizing how vague and dumbfounded the question came out, he added, "Wouldn't that be a lot of trouble? For secret services," Barron finished. He didn't bother asking about the press, he knows that for years his parents kept him away from cameras pretty well unless it was intentional for him to be in the frame. A warming smile etched onto Melania's face before she came over her tall son and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

"It's okay moj sin," she spoke. Barron tension eased up once he heard his mother use his nickname in Slovenian. "It will all be taken care of. Father will be fine and we won't be long. We'll stay at the old place for a while." 

And with that, she turned and left the room. Barron slide his hands into the pockets of his shorts and took a quick look around his room. 

"Empty," he thought to himself about his room. It was far from empty when it comes to materialistic entities, but Barron felt it so cold and lonely when he is by himself in this room, even it being the only privacy he gets, away from the White House staff and security. He lay flat on his back onto the massive mattress."Maybe this will be good. Dad needs some time for himself, this election's been eating him up."  

Closing his eyes, he exhaled a heavy breath through his nostrils. "Maybe this will be good for me."

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