Chapter 7: A Wealth of Progress

The gang scores a huge donation from Mark, while also gaining some inside information on how the previous election went down.

A few more days passed before our appointment at the Mar-A-Lago, during which the four of us took a well-deserved break from our rebellion and checked out the small, tropical city that none of us had ever been to before. We discovered a bunch of cool new restaurants and locales, and once that got boring, we even took the time to explore our hotel and check out its amenities.

As for me, I spent most of that time thinking back on my previous encounter with Tequila. Even though both of us had been drunk that night, I could still vaguely recall the details, or at least the major ones. I enjoyed the experience overall, but was left confused afterwards. At the moment, I wasn't sure if I wanted to do it again as soon as possible, or hold off until we let our relationship grow a little over time. Tequila kept smiling shyly at me every time we locked eyes afterwards, clearly letting me know she felt the same way. Either way, one thing was for certain: I'd no longer have to endure the shame of being a thirty-two-year-old virgin!

At least that'll be one less thing Dad can hold against me, I remember thinking to myself, shortly after all was said and done.

Eventually, the time came to go visit Mark at his exclusive high-end club. My comrades and I parked at the nearest beach and walked the rest of the way, not just because it was a beautiful day out, but also to prevent anyone from tracking our rental car to the club. Our movement had garnered a fair amount of controversy, and who knows how people would react if they knew the folks behind it were paying a visit to the Mar-A-Lago?

It was about midday when we arrived at the front entrance, where we discovered that the massive gate was already open. While Second, Xavier and I showed up in Hawaiian shirts, swim-trunks, and sandals, Tequila instead went with an aquamarine kimono and white flip-flops. Initially, us guys were skeptical about having her tag along with us. Given the laws that were in place, most celebrities nowadays were redheads, so spotting them in popular public areas was only made all the easier. However, as we passed by the beach, I was pleasantly surprised at the lack of attention we garnered. I guess even in a society like this one, authors could still leave home without being swarmed by the paparazzi.

We didn't hesitate to politely knock on the front door, and the wait wasn't that long before it opened. There was no shrewd doorman forcing us to state our business. No butler offering us champagne and h'ors d'oeuvres and telling us to wait for the guy we wanted to see. Nope, Mark was the one who greeted us right off the bat, and he was dressed just as casually as we were.

"Ah, you must be Jasper Collins!" he greeted.

"Good to see you, Mr. Simmons!" I greeted, reaching out my hand for him to shake.

"Please. You can call me Mark," Mark replied, ushering me in as he shook Xavier's hand. "And you must be Professor Cedric. Gotta say, if it weren't for your ovarian cancer cure, my wife wouldn't be here today. I really owe you one."

"Wait a minute! Are my ears deceiving me?!" Xavier replied in shock. "Y-You... you're not mad about the permanent infertility?!"

"Pfft, of course not! We'd already decided we didn't want any more kids a good while before the cancer even hit," Mark replied, before shifting his attention to Tequila. "And Ms. Rodriguez! My wife actually read your newest book while she was undergoing treatment, and she adores it!"

Following his comment, he formally kissed her hand, making my eyes widen a little.

"Well that's good to hear," Tequila replied, her face flushing as red as her hair.

"Annnnndddd... I can't say I know who you are," Mark said, shaking Second's hand.

"Well I'm sure you will once this movement's over," Second replied with a smile. I could tell he felt a bit hurt that he was the only one on the team without some major achievements under his belt.

After we shared introductions, Mark led us through the lobby and out of the main building. We followed an outdoor trail over to the private living quarters. Passing through the establishment, we soon found ourselves on a private pool deck with dense, tropical foliage surrounding its opposite half. Mark didn't hesitate to look down into the pool.

"Ah, good! No gators. Can't even begin to tell you how many dogs and cats we've lost to those b******s," he said, not hesitating to yank off his shirt and gracefully leap into the deep end.

While he was still underwater, the rest of us got situated. Xavier and I both sat up on the two beach chairs closest to where Mark had jumped. Tequila stripped off her kimono, revealing a white, vintage, high-waisted bikini. She then donned a pair of designer sunglasses and lied back a few chairs down, letting the sun beat down on her pale, freckled physique. Second proceeded to enter the pool himself, slowly easing his way down the steps into the shallow end.

It wasn't long before Mark resurfaced, resting his thick, sculpted arms on the rim of the pool. I couldn't help but feel envious at the sight of his physique. I didn't have an ounce of fat on me, but I wasn't ripped either. My muscles were just defined enough that you could see the creases between them, but they didn't bulge in the slightest, leaving me with a lanky build overall.

"So, uh, I guess it would be appropriate to have a little small talk before we get into the meat of this discussion, so if it's alright to ask, how's life treating you?" I asked.

"Oh, it's been fine. Thankfully, if you end up having to switch jobs during the transition, you still get to keep any wealth you previously had. And that combined with my wife's green eyes helped ensure that I still have the life I used to. I did have to give up journalism, however, seeing how only redheads can do that. Instead, I work as an attorney back in Kicksburg, simply because I don't like the idea of doing nothing," Mark explained. "Kind of a shame you couldn't meet my twins, but high school comes first, am I right?"

"Well that's good," I replied. "And I'm sure you don't need to ask how our lives are treating us."

"Nope," Mark replied cheekily. "And speaking of your cause, I think I might have some valuable information for you folks."

"Yes, you told us it was about those senators who supported you but then suddenly decided not to," Second chimed in.

"Right. Well I remember it all started back in 2024. Following a rally with my supporters over in Virginia, I decided to take a break from the campaign trail and hold a party at Simmons Manor. And while we were all enjoying the festivities, I was taken by surprise as a handful of the country's congressmen and even Electoral College members from both parties invited themselves over. I remember they all congratulated me for winning the Democratic primaries and told me over and over again that I already had their vote," Mark explained.

"... And then they just turned on you? How the hell does that work?" Tequila chimed in, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Well I ended up speaking to them for most of the party's duration, and throughout the conversation, I noticed how every time one of them said they approved of me, they would all cringe and twitch as if they were all receiving a painful shock," Mark continued. "And I seem to be having trouble recalling what that other major detail about them was."

"Well we've got all day, so please don't rush yourself," Second replied. "Every bit of information matters here."

During the short, collective silence between the five of us, a woman about as tall and old as Mark stepped out. She had eyes in the shade of guacamole, and wavy, butt-length, jet-black hair. Her kumquat-orange sundress had a plunging neckline, and a bold slit on the left that provided a glimpse of her crimson stocking and garter.

"Ah, you guys must be behind the 'Looks Don't Matter' movement," she said in a coarse Brooklyn accent as she smiled.

"That's correct," I replied.

"Say, uh, Katrina. You were there at the party back in 2024, right? Was there anything suspicious you noticed about those political guests who showed up?" Mark asked.

Another moment of silence.

"Well I remember standin' right next to ya' as they offered their congratulations, and I noticed how often they was twitchin'," Katrina explained. "But then as they turned away, I noticed they all had this odd lump in their left ears."

"Odd lumps?" Xavier questioned, clicking a pen on his forehead and jotting down some notes.

"Yeah, and I think they mighta' had somethin' to do with the twitchin'," Katrina continued.

"Oh right, that's what I was trying to remember," Mark commented.

"Interesting..." Xavier's voice trailed off as he wrote some more. "And judging by the circumstances, it was no bug bite."

"Definitely not," I replied. "I highly doubt they'd all have been bitten in the same exact spot at the same time, and there's no way a mere bug bite would cause them to suddenly change their political views."

"And most peculiarly, the shocks seemed to grow stronger and more frequent the more they praised us," Katrina added.

"It seems someone didn't want any government officials siding with your husband during the race," Second chimed in. "No wonder Gonzalez won in a landslide."

"Well Mark was right. That election was rigged," Tequila added. "If we add that to everything the president has already admitted to, then we've effectively made more progress towards getting him impeached."

"Alright! Thanks, Mark," I said.

"Do whatever you want with that information," Mark replied, climbing out of the pool and drying himself off. "But I believe you guys are also here to discuss negotiations? Y'know, to fund your movement?"

"Oh yeah, right. Er... seeing how it's your money, we'll let you decide our advertising budget," I offered, eliciting some nods from my friends.

"Pfft, budget?!" Mark scoffed. "Are you kidding?! You can have all the money you want! I'll turn my family broke if I have to, if it means bringing down this damn administration!"

"Well good, because we'll need all the money we can get," Xavier replied. "Then with your help, we can get commercials on every news network in the country and help more people see our message."

"Now, now, let's not get too carried away. We still need to hold public rallies at least once in a while. I feel they make a bigger impact," I chimed in. "A commercial will hit more people at once, but a rally will hit harder."

"Both of you are correct," Tequila replied, pulling her smartphone out of her bikini top. "So if it's okay with the rest of you, I'll add another two weeks onto our stay in the hotel."

"That won't be necessary. You all could stay here instead, for as long as you need to. We've got plenty of space. Not to mention the chef here makes a wonderful catfish meuniere," Katrina suggested. "...I-I mean if you don't wanna stay, then that's fine and all."

"Okay, then we'll do that instead," Tequila said, eliciting nods from everyone else.

"We'll have to move our things here, though," I said. "And once we do, we'll be all set to start making some progress."