Hello people of wattpad who are confused about this whole ordeal,
This is a crack fic on two polititians from the netherlands, please don't take any of this serious.
I am not a fan of either of these but it was kinda funny to write anyways haha
so if you arent interested, just click off i guess (:
Have a good rest of your day peopleeee
warnings for parinoia and homophobia and stuff- thierry is a very.. wierd person.
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Applause.
a few stares.
That's all that happened after his speech. He was happy, but not happy enough.
Like he was missing something.
Theirry is a single, auquarius 40 year old. His parents are divorced and he hasn't had a hug in a good while. Maybe from one of his mistresses he met up with a while ago, at that cheap place. The food was good, but he didn't really feel like he was being... filled with that feeling. Like something, or someone was missing.
He walked away from the stage, looking at his audience while they clapped, and booed at him. Most of them where older men, but a few younger ones as well. A few cameras and journalists in the journalist and paparazzi section. He always hated the media. He knew that the journalists will change his story. He knows that he can sound a bit paranoid, but in this world he can't really trust anyone. This simulation, with fake people and lizards, monsters and deep fake people on the internet. Getting criticized on his job, on his speeches for no reason. He knew he was right.
All eyes on him as he walked away, and the sounds of pictures being taking and people trying to ask him questions. He made eye contact with a few journalists, but he was so tired.
So tired of all the paranoia. Of all the criticism, of all the people talking over him. All the people giving him looks, all the people screaming at him in debates.
He was tired of it all.
He stepped into the hall, behind the panel.
Opening the door to his little room, closing the door behind him. The room was not too big, just some showroom you would find in the back of a theater. It has a big square mirror on it with the lightbulbs, where his make-up was done before his speech. He can still feel it on his face.
Maybe make-up is also a attempt at control by the government..?
Or was it a thing made to control people by turning them into mummies.
They do need some form of baking powder.
But then again, he doesn't know much about make-up.
He doesn't have a female friend to ask this phenomenon about.
Well, they belong in the kitchen anyways, at least that's what Andrew t*te gave.
He walked to the table, got the water bottle that he put there before his speech, and removed the cap.
Bringing it to his mouth, he closed his eyes to drink.
He stopped when he heard a familiar sound.
He put the water bottle down, and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, and saw the grindr notification. He sighed and closed it again.
He know he wasn't supposed to get on the app, but he.. liked looking at the men on there.
For how masculine they where, of course.
No other reasons.
Finally getting a sip of water was to say.. refreshing.
He put on his jacket, pocketed his phone, and opened the door.
Walking out of the hall in a calm manner.
Walking from the entrance to his car was less fun.
Paparazzi is annoying.
Maybe they should make a request to change the law about that.
Or maybe another speech.
As soon as the man gets into the car, he just sighs.
He gets comfortable fast, while he hears the driver cough.
'Café at xxxx, and get there fast. I need a drink'
The driver doesn't really respond, but Wonderboy feels the car start to move. He relaxes into the couches of the car.
They got there in five minutes.
He tips the driver fairly well. He doesn't believe in creditcards, so he always has cash on him.
then moves out of the car, into the building.
The café he picked up is for elites, and he knows no one will be there today. Most of the time the other Politian's, or, his rivals really, will only get here after their own speeches. No one has had speeches today, so it should be empty.
He hands his coat to one of the people at front, after giving them a five minute speech on why not to put it with the 'enemies coats'. It could lend other people the opportunities for people to put spy stuff into his jacket and hack his phone.
The waitress he gave it too looked annoyed, but agreed to hang it somewhere else.
He sits down at a bar, at the side of the room.
Waiting for the bartender to come there to serve him took long enough, he would say.
Waiting got him lost in thought tho.
And when he was lost in thoughts, he got back to the previous debates.
He remembers them so vividly.
Always wanting to prove stuff, always wanting to just win.
Get the validation he needed.
They never gave it to him.
He didn't remember what it was about this time.
Another member of his group was debating for him.
He didn't need to this time.
So instead, he found himself looking around the room,
Intrigued by the people.
One in particular.
He wasn't around for debates often.
But oh when he was, theirry always wanted to come up and debate against him.
Mark Rutte.
The president of the Netherlands.
His arch nemisis.
With his stupid and cute looking glasses.
Cute..?
No.
Just stupid.
But cute.
Ugh.
Mark was always making eye contact with him.
Staring from across the room.
Staring when he had his lunch.
He can feel his gaze, moving up and down.
Was Mark checking him out?
He didn't know.
But mark was sick in the head for whatever he thought of him.
He shudder out of his thought as the bartender came over to fill his glass of wine.
Again?
Or for the third time?
He didn't know anymore.
He could tell he was getting more drunk, starting to not remember things.
But all he could think about is Mark.
He swear he could hear Marks voice in his head.
Or was it real?
He turned around to face the tv's beside him.
Mark was talking on tv.
Shit.
The tv was behind, he knew that.
He would be there any minute.
No.
Yes.
'Theirry?'
....
shit.