Chapter 11: Rally Gone Sour

As pressure mounts against Gonzalez, the gang goes back out for what they think is the home stretch.

Before we all knew it, we were rallying again. Our commercials had been picked up by almost every network in the country, and almost everyone was on our side, including both halves of the Congress, the Supreme Court, and the Electoral College. So as part of a strategy we had all pitched in on, we decided that we would spend the next couple of months holding bi-weekly rallies and marches in cities all over America.

At at this point, our cause was gaining more momentum than ever. The amount of money received from the people's donations was through the roof. We were also receiving sponsorships, and numerous redheaded musicians (including a few that lacked legitimate talent) offered to perform at our gatherings. We were essentially doing the same thing twice a week. I'd be lying if I said I was getting a little sick of it, but we all knew that we were doing what we had to do, and quitting during the home-stretch would be a pretty dumb idea. Plus, I had my three closest friends at my side, and that was more than enough to help me power through.

The last of such public events was held in Washington D.C. just outside the White House lawn. The authorities had told us that the protest was allowed, as per the Constitution, but we could not pass the black iron gate that led onto the premises. Even so, we still arrived just in time, as did several news vans, both local and national. Second, Tequila, Xavier and I stood just a few yards away from the guards at the gate, proudly wearing our official "Looks Don't Matter" T-shirts, and just behind us was a massive crowd.

Unlike with most of the previous rallies, not a single person in the crowd wasn't wearing their shirt. Sure, some people may have gotten them cropped, de-sleeved, tied up, or customized in any other way, but they were all wearing their shirts nonetheless. It was almost as if they knew this particular rally would mark a major turning point in the movement. And it did, but not quite in the way they were all hoping.

The rally started on a positive note and went along smoothly for the first two out of its planned four hours. It mostly consisted of my friends and I chanting rally-cries into megaphones and having the audience chant back in deafening unison. Occasionally, we would stop chanting and invite random participants up front, letting them hold the megaphones for a short time. Then they would be given the chance to tell their own stories about how they were unfairly treated by the appearance-based laws. And usually when they were done, they would offer some choice words about the president, subsequently met with applause.

However, as soon as President Gonzalez stepped outside to greet us, things took a turn for the worse. Someone in the audience pointed him out to us, and we all turned around to see him slowly approaching, a calm, neutral expression on his face as he held his arms loosely behind his back. A pair of black-clad guards that were armed to the teeth walked on either side of him, and a person in black, cybernetic armor with a white G on the chest was marching behind him. Just outside the White House gates, a stray Golden Retriever was lying down with a litter of puppies. The smallest of the litter wriggled into the president's path, causing him to halt. He coldly looked down at the helpless creature, before abruptly slamming his foot down onto him. A loud crunch could be heard, followed by a collective gasp from the audience. Gonzalez then kicked the bleeding corpse out of his way. The mother dog began to bark in protest, but was too weak to do anything more.

The crowd went dead silent as he halted his movements, fixing his cold, amber gaze directly onto me. This did little to nothing to intimidate me, however.

"Ah, Mr. President. Nice to see you stop on by," I greeted, playing it cool.

"We're just over here having the time of our lives. And you're more than welcome to join us in the festivities," Second added with a smug grin.

Gonzalez said nothing, his face remaining the same.

"Oh wait. Here's an idea: why don't you help put all of us in a good mood and atone for all the crimes you've been accused of?" Tequila chimed in, her delicate arms folded.

"And while you're at it, why not repeal all these laws that discriminate by eye and hair color? Because God knows how much your people have suffered under them," Xavier said. "Besides, aren't you Republicans supposed to operate on an 'America first' mindset? Because nobody with that mindset would place such a burden on the American people, am I right folks?"

In response, the entire crowd burst forth into rapturous applause and incoherent shouting. Gonzalez' face twitched a little, but otherwise remained straight. I could tell that Xavier's remark had hurt his ego a bit.

"And it's cool if you take your time on that last decision. We've got all day!" I said.

My friends and I simply stood there, shooting the president some cool stares. I watched his eyes dart from side to side for a spell, before he pulled a pistol out of his sport-coat and fired into the air. This was enough to silence everyone. I wasn't paying attention to my friends at that moment, but I couldn't help but recoil at how the sound of the gunshot rattled me to the core. As a result, my guard was down, enabling Gonzalez to march over and grab me by the shirt.

I yelped as I was yanked over to his level. In addition to my shirt, his iron grip had managed to catch a huge clump of my chest hair, so it hurt a little too. I couldn't stop wincing in pain as he leaned threateningly into my face.

"Listen here, Collins!" he spat in a half-whisper.

"Hey! Back off, you dick!" Second retorted, only to have the cocked pistol pointed at his forehead. None of my friends dared to back me up afterward.

"I'd watch my mouth if I were you," Gonzalez told him.

"After all that s**t you said about my mother?! Typical conservative hypocrisy!" I retorted, only to yelp as he tightened his grip on me.

"This is exactly how far your precious mother got before her movement failed. You'd think her own son would know better than to repeat the same method, but apparently I thought wrong," Gonzalez snarled, flecking saliva in my face as he spoke. "So long as I'm in office, these laws are staying just the way they are, and there's no way in hell that you or your pathetic friends will be able to change that, even with a bigger budget and two B-list celebrities fighting at your side."

With that, he harshly dropped me to the ground. I did nothing more than glare back upwards at him, but his face remained relaxed.

"Guards, what say we quash this little rebellion?" Gonzalez continued, tucking his gun away and heading back into the gates.

I watched him leave, noticing a small button in his hand, which he pressed with his thumb. In response, the two guards that were nearby all recoiled as though they were on the receiving end of a painful shock.

S**t! He must've gotten THEM controlled too! I thought, my expression alarmed.

The pair of guards as well as their armored comrade didn't hesitate to march up towards the crowd, rifles at the ready. The guy in the armor immediately shot at my legs, but I managed to swerve them out of the way. He then ignored me and, alongside his partners, proceeded to fire into the crowd. Several dozen screams of panic and pain could be heard as everyone scattered. I managed to get up unscathed and flee the scene, getting separated from my friends in the midst of the chaos.

---

That night, the four of us gathered together in one of our conjoined hotel rooms not far from where the rally took place. We'd all managed to find each other after the gunfire separated us, and we were especially fortunate that none of us got hurt in the scuffle. We were once again watching MSNBC, which was unsurprisingly airing coverage of that day's rally. Second was conked out on one of the armchairs, while Xavier was leaning forward on one of the beds, his expression pensive and his eyes glued to the screen. I sat down on the other bed as Tequila sat on the floor in front of me, her face aimed at the carpet beneath her. I massaged her neck and shoulders while looking at the TV as well.

"As you all know, this afternoon, violence broke out at a peaceful 'Looks Don't Matter' rally just outside the White House wall, led by none other than Jasper Collins, the founder of the movement. Several spectators say it all began when President Gonzalez stepped out to survey the crowd," the redheaded reporter explained. "According to reporters from CNN, he held Collins at gunpoint and threatened him, before ordering his guards to fire upon the crowd, clearly going against the Constitution in the process. A total of fifteen casualties have been counted thus far, and a whopping forty-five protestors have been critically injured. Neither Collins nor any of his co-founders have commented on the situation, and some of the guys over at Fox News suspect that they quickly fled the scene."

As she spoke, footage of the violence at the rally began to air. Watching the reenactment sent me vivid recollections of a similar event that happened over a decade ago. To think that I'd just barely avoided meeting the exact same fate as my mother. I couldn't help but wince, not only at the reminder of the very close call that afternoon, but also at the incessant ringing in my ears that had been caused by all the gunfire and screaming.

"In other news tonight, more and more votes in favor of Gonzalez' impeachment are pouring in from senators and representatives of all parties," the reporter continued. "After the violence died down, he too has refused to comment on the matter. In fact, according to CBS News, he has barricaded himself inside the White House, and all of the guards are under his control via the same mechanism he'd previously used to control the Legislative and Judicial Branches. It is unlikely that he will take his impeachment well should this proposal pass."

It was then that a commercial break came on, giving us all some time to let everything sink in. Looking around, I could tell that our collective mood consisted purely of disappointment.

"Well, uh... I guess someone has to speak up first, so I guess I'll take one for the team," Xavier began. "That definitely could've gone better."

"I should've known trying to rally right outside the White House was a bad idea," I grumbled, following a sigh. "My mom died doing the exact same thing ten years ago, and this afternoon, I almost made all of us suffer the same fate."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up over it. It just means we need to be more careful from now on," Xavier replied.

"Well duh, but the question is: where do we go from here?" I asked. "I mean, I'm not saying we should, y'know, give up or anything like that. But as shown earlier today, rallying on his doorstep won't do jack s**t, and that's pretty much all we can do while staying within the law."

"Well then maybe working within the law is what's holding us back," Tequila chimed in, taking the rest of us by surprise. "If the president won't cooperate with us, or even the government that he's a part of, then I say the only way to get him out of office is to remove him ourselves."

"Whoa there, T!" Xavier replied.

"What are you even insinuating here? That we just break in and take out the president? I can somewhat buy sneaking into the Senate, but the White House?" I asked in disbelief. "Plus, I thought you said you didn't want to do anything that risky anymore."

"Well that's what I wanted at first, but after what happened this afternoon, I've changed my mind. I joined this movement because I wanted change in this country, and if infiltrating government property is what it takes to get that change, then so be it," Tequila proclaimed, prompting Xavier and I to look at each other. "I don't know about you guys, but I didn't come all this way just to fail! I'm not giving up! Even if it means losing my career, or even my life!"

Another minute passed by, during which she willed herself to calm down after her semi-rant, and the rest of us sat there in silence, taking into account what she had just said.

"Well? What do you guys think?" Tequila asked after a bit, holding out her hand.

Xavier and I looked at each other once more, before the former shrugged with reluctance. I sighed and placed my hand on top of hers, before he did the same.