More Than Politics {Book 1}: Editing

36

"A parent has but many jobs, they must teach, support and take care of their children. Parents most also worn their offspring of the dangers they my face and discipline them when they go on the wrong path. But most importantly, we most shape our children into fine human beings."

"To me, becoming president means taking on all these responsibilities on a much larger scale. Instead of a growing child, it is a growing nation. I am not perfect, and I will not pretend to be. All I can do is promise to fulfill my duties to their fullest potential."

An uproar of cheers ripped through the crowd, flags, banners, confetti went into the air. His family Beamed at him, Cynthia-May grinning widely and offering a thumbs up.

Vincent turned to his other side and there stood Ama Jenkins, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. He was grateful for her a sponsorship and involvement in this campaign, he knew of no way to show his gratitude.

"Now I would like to welcome one of our main sponsors to the stage. She's a very strong willed young woman, and a good friend of mine. Miss Ama Jenkins!"

This clearly took her by surprise, as she seemed to stall for a moment before making her way to the podium. Vincent stepped back, watching over any small exchange between her and his son.

She turned to face the Banks Family, looking a little nervous, but with a nod of encouragement from Graham, her seriousness returned.

"Good afternoon Miami..." The crowd cheered in response.

"First I'd like to thank Vincent for letting me speak today. It has been an honour and a great deal of fun campaign with Graham alongside the Unity Party; I know that, should Vincent be elected, he will surely make this nation proud."

"Now, I am not her to tell you to vote for Vincent and the Unity Party, though my status and involvement might suggest otherwise. Nor am I here to tell you who not to vote for, those decisions are entirely yours."

"But what I will tell you is that this country needs a leader. A leader who can cater, in any way shape or form, for the people of this great nation. Many of the candidates in the running to become president, strive for change. But what if there is nothing for them to change."

"After all, we have moved on since the war. World War 3 was not a war with a single subject, it was a war about all of societies problems. It was a war between races, cultures, monarchies, democracies, sexualities, the rich, the poor, governments and their people."

"75 years since then the war, and now we have reached a point of mutual acceptance all cross the global. How could you possibly strive for change in a world like that right?"

Vincent looked at Ama with questioning eyes. What message was she try to get across to the people? She of all people should know that there is something in this world that still needs to change.

His own son was working on a project to change the living conditions of citizens in the central states, with the restoration of the Salt Lake Slums.

Ama herself ran a company that specialised in changing the lives of people who struggle to live peacefully, like those in the Salt Lake Slums.

But Vincent didn't dare say a word. He knew Ama well enough to say that she was far from the objective of her speech.

"The truth is, that they are not at fault. No matter how hard humanity tries to create it's own peaceful euphoria, once one problem is solved another had been created. What I say to you from experience and add a witness to such problems, is you must try to arrive for what I us right."

"Some will strive for change, others will bring I about, but you must ask yourself if this change is a benefit your community, society and humanity."

The sun had finally set and night consumed the streets of Miami. It was a clear night, not a cloud to block out the view of the sky, sprinkled with twinkling lights.

Ama dug her toes deeper into the sand, still warm from the days sun. With the soft breeze whisking across her skin, the smell of the sea and the sound of waves touching the shore, she'd never felt so relaxed.

"One mint-choc-chip, one peanut butter crunch, and one raspberry swirl for the lovely lady in yellow." Graham announced, barring their ice creams as he trudged over the sand.

"Why thank you sir." Ama giggled, digging in immediately. "What did you get?"

"One honey comb crunch, one chocolate fudge, and one strawberry and cream."

Ama hummed in approval. They say for a while, in comfortable silence, enjoying the company of each other and their ice creams.

"You know," Ama started, not looking up from her ice cream.  "The night is my favourite time of the day."

"Oh really, why's that?"

"The stars. I travel a lot, so sometimes I feel like I have no home. I'm not settled in one set location it can make you feel like you have no identity."

"Why would you feel like that?"

Ama sighed, looking up into Graham's eyes. They seemed more blue now in the low light, twinkling with an emotion Ama couldn't read.

"During the war, many refugees fled to Africa to seek asylum. Many counties took them in, but the few that were against this movement set out to execute refugees. This soon turned into a civil war which ended in democracies being taken down and Monarchies being reinstituted.

"My mother, is from Ghana. Not just that, but she is Ashanti royalty. Her mother is the queen mother and currently the only person on the throne. My father however, was born and raised in Burkina Faso, but is not from there. His ancestry is from all over the world."

"Wait wait wait..." Graham interrupted. "So your basically a princess."

Ama cringed internally, if only he knew the whole story. But she nodded anyway.

"Holy shit!" Graham muttered to himself. "I've been screwing a princess."

Ama rolled her eyes. "Anyway, my dad, he's from everywhere. Asia, Europe, North and South America, Australasia, Europe, Africa. All seven seas. I don't know where he is now. I quite frankly don't care. But I never seem to feel a sense of belonging to anywhere I go.

"But when I look at the stars, for some reason, it doesn't matter where I am out where I'm from, I just feel at home... with myself."

Ama looked beside her to see Graham layed back on the sand, one arm slung across his eyes, the other clutching his empty ice cream tub to his stomach.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bore you with any of that."

A soft chuckle escaped Graham's lips as he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her down with him.

"I found that far from boring. I mean now I know I'm getting my dick wet up royal pussy." This earned him a smack on the chest. "So who do you get your extremely blue eyes from?"

"No one knows, my mother has brown eyes and she said my father has black eyes. When I was born, they thought it was some defect that would ware of as I grew up, but it never did."

They sat, again, in silence for a while, Ama snuggling into Graham's chest with his hand running up and down her back.

"Ama what are we?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, what kind of relationship do you think we have?"

She hesitated a little. "We're friends... Aren't we?"

"Just friends?"

"Friends with benefits?"

Graham let out a heavy sigh. There was some unreadable emotion in his eyes, something she couldn't write put her finger on.

Suddenly, his hand went up her seen dress a slid her panties aside.

"Graham." She warned.

"What?" He responded with a conspiratorial smirk.

From their place on the balcony, they had a great view of the lovers as they slowly undressed each other.

"So when do we take her down?"

"Tomorrow."