Barack's POV:
"I don't know what to do with you anymore,
Barack! It's like I don't know you anymore!" Michelle stormed out of the kitchen in tears leaving me alone to eat my toast. God I love bread. I'll eat it with anything. People do cookie and milk, I prefer bread and milk.
But that's off topic, isn't it. I tend to do that lately. I've been so stressed. I've been in office for almost 7 years and I have yet to do the things I want to do for this country. I mean, yes I've passed the Affordable Health Care Act and yes I've lowered unemployment rates all the way down to 5.6%. But that's nothing compared to the list I want to do for this country. And having a year left as president of the United States of America, is nearly enough time to get 3 things crossed off the list. My Job isn't the only thing that's been stressing me out lately though.
Michelle has been on my case daily. Telling me " you've changed" "who are you?" "Where is the Barack I used to know?". You know it really bothers me when people say things like that. They think that they know you, that they can read you and that they understand you. They don't. No one could understand me. No one could know me like I know myself. How could they? They're not inside my head. I mean it's not like everything I think or do is written in a notebook or something or like a website where 8 year olds enjoy reading things about they're idols and maybe occasionally (or always) it contains some dirty freak nasty things. But that's off topic, isn't it.
She's right though, Michelle is. I have changed. When she says it though, it's like I'm a bad person. Like I'm not who she wants or expects me to be. I've changed, it's true. But is that so bad? Is it that bad that first thing I do in the morning after getting ready for the day is go on the roof of the White House and listen to some good Eminem while thinking about society's expectations, occasionally singing lyrics "I'm as cold as the cold wind blows when it snows and it's twenty below"? Is it so bad that I take walks at 2 a.m. and enjoy the sound of nothing but my heart beats and breaths? Is it that bad that in meetings I act as if I'm taking notes but really I'm doodling drawings of the Donald trump with a turkey body. I really dislike that man, I mean he has no respect for women and with that hair that looks like straws on ham, there's no way he has any self respect. But that's not the point. What I'm trying to say is people change. Maybe that change is seen as bad to others, but it could be what that person really needs in their life to make it better.
As for me I still feel empty, like something is missing.
I finally take the last bite of toast as I realize I've been sitting here staring at the wall thinking for fifteen minutes.
I quickly press a button that lets our maid, Joe, know he is needed at that location. I was about to go walk into the living room when I heard Michelle on the phone with her friend. "I just don't know what to do about him Jeanette! Today both the girls were out with friends so I thought I had hinted to him that I wanted a sexy dinner night with Daddy. Wha- oh sorry I apologize Jeanette. I"ll stop calling him that. Anyways I honestly tried so hard leaving little signals like looking into his eyes longingly while biting my lips and touching his thighs. When I told him I didn't want the cook cooking for us tonight and I wanted him to cook a little diner for us, you know what he cooked? Fucking toast! He cook fucking toast Jeannette! What am-"
I rolled my eyes and started walking to my room. Michelle can be so... Ugggghhh! Sometimes. I looked at the time, 9:30. The night is just getting started. I dressed into a nice get up that screamed "I've got money, plus I'm sexy!" and quickly got in the limo.
"Ronaldo, take me to the best bar you know," I told our driver. Soon we stopped in front of a nice looking building with big letters that read "Cobalt" and under it, it read "DC's best gay bar!". Oh shit. I forgot Ronaldo was gay. Oh well, I might as well give it a try. Yolo right?
As I walked into the bar I didn't worry about getting recognized. I was wearing an outfit that you would never possibly think a president would wear and I was wearing some nice shades.
I sat down at the pub And asked the bartender for a beer. Suddenly I hear a bunch of giggles from a husky voice in a strong British accent telling someone to stop. And then the giggling stops and a serious stop is told but it seems the other voice keeps playing at it. "I think he told you to stop, didn't he?" I said turning around to face a tall, dark, muscular man. I swallow and said "did he not?" I tired to sound very menacing so that I got my point across. It seemed to have worked for the man left and started talking to someone else as if nothing had happened.
"Thanks, but I can take care of myself," said the husky voice from earlier. I turned to face the man. My brown eyes landed on his green ones. They were so beautiful and intense. I don't think I've ever seen a pair of eyes like his before. My eyes followed to his hair. It had gorgeous curls and was long. Longer then Michelle's. And his jaw line was sharper then the pencils at the White House. Wow! This man was perfect.
