Pink, Green, and I Hate Blue

Cakegating and Booty Calls

After his fifth glass of champagne, Magnus decided that he no longer wanted to just watch Alex flaunt around with random people with high political standing. Once he, Alex, was finally done with talking to the Nigerian Ambassador, Magnus walked over to him.

Alex was as perfect as always, and that made Magnus infuriated. Alex's heterochromatic eyes were swirling, with excitement, no anger, and Magnus continued glaring at him.

"Hello Magnus, wonderful of you to grace us with your presence tonight." Even his posh English accent was infuriating. It was like someone took velvet smooth chocolate and added a hint of spanish spice to it.

"Hello Alex, having fun? Or would you rather be somewhere else?" He replied snarkily. "You look like a cat ate your face and then spat it out again."

"They say looks could kill, and I might try. You are being exceptionally annoying tonight." And with that, Alex turned on his heel and left. But Magnus does not like letting other people get the last words. He quickly marched after Alex. He grabbed Alex by the collar.

"You don't get to have the last words, that's not fair," Magnus whined.

"Oh, you're drunk... you big baby," Alex laughed at him. Alex wasn't allowed to laugh at him.

"Of course I'm drunk, what else would I be. This 'party' sucks."

"Well, I don't want to argue with you all night. I'm leaving." Alex turned and started leaving again.

"No, I always get the last word, don't you dare leave me Alex."

"I don't start shit, but I can tell you how it ends, Magnus." He snapped back, pushing Magnus away. Alex gasped, and Magnus grabbed his arm to try to stop the fall. But, there was nothing either of them could do as they toppled to the floor.

Flash. Some reporter had just taken a photo. The prince and the first son. One on top of the other, on the ground, covered in a $75,000 cake.

You thought that this was the end. hahaha. Time skip, a couple days later.

Back in the white house, Mac was pacing back and forth. His mother, Natalie, was sitting at her desk, the one in the Oval Office, trying to find a way not to kill her son. She slapped a magazine on her desk and slid it over to Magnus. It read "Cakegate: FSOTUS Sparks Second American-English War."

"I think we have a solution. One that does not end in me having the CIA fake your death. As much as to have them do that, and then ride the dead-kid-sympathy into next term, it is preferable that I do not do that."

"What's the solution?" He was ready to head back to his room, where Blitz, Hearth, and Alice were waiting for him, to write whatever apology letter his mom would make him write.

"You are now the best friend of the prince. It was all some small frat-bro mishap. You will be heading over to London this weekend. A well photographed meeting between you and HRH Alex should fix this."

Magnus was devastated, not only would he have to go over to England this weekend. He would probably have to go back again. Though his mother didn't say it, they could just do this once and call it a day, people would realize it's just a cover-up. He headed back to his room expecting to find the rest of the White House Quartet, instead he found Mac. His personal secret service agent somehow had gotten to his room before he did, and she left the meeting after him. Sometimes he wondered if there were secret passageways in the building, because it always took him forever to get from one place to the other. Mac handed him a piece of paper.

"Memorize that," she said, "It's a list of facts about the prince, that way, if anyone asks you stuff about him, you will know the answers. I told Blitz, Hearth, and Alice to leave your room, would you like me to let them come back in. Perhaps they can help you with your... studying. Please do try to not get super sidetracked."