Chapter Text
November 8, 2028. He had won the state before you went to bed. You kept shaking, and you had to call it quits. Of course, your nerves were never the same since he first announced nearly a year ago when he was running. Gavin has had your dad, he wouldn’t need you. But God, you were so excited for him. He had won Texas! What a marvel, Texas went blue. When you last checked, it has been 250-230, a close race. Constantly tossing and turning, the air was too hot in your hotel room. Your skin was sticky, so you got up and opened a window. The warm Houston air merges with the stuffiness of the sheets. You could feel the city lights, all warm, comforting your nerves. Gavin had this, you knew. JD had some of the worst approval ratings in recent history, and technically speaking, he only has leverage in some of the Bible Belt states. Gavin was the most enigmatic person you've ever had the pleasure of meeting. His smile could light up the entire state of California. Hell, it could light up the entire body of the United States. He looked like a movie star and talked like one too.
A couple of years back, when he announced his bid for the Democratic nominee and gearing up to launch his campaign, you were ecstatic.
Glimpses at the TV screen, and images of him on Twitter comforting the people of the great state of California, were all that you saw. When you met him in person for the first time, all you saw was a big beam of light. Your father knew you’d be on your best behavior, so he didn’t have to remind you. You didn’t stray any further than 5 feet from him. The car ride was quiet, your dad knew of this schoolgirl crush, but he also knew of your professionalism and how seriously you took yourself.
When the governor invited you and your family to visit him in Sacramento, you had to see him. The adoration you’ve held in your heart for him was unparalleled. Criticism and any complaints you hear from people around you, you quickly shut down. He made you feel genuine joy for being a Californian, let alone an American.
“Remember not to fangirl yeah? Be glad I invited you and he was so gracious enough to meet you.” He flippantly expresses.
“ Yes, of course. I’ll remember not to freak out.” You roll your eyes.
While strolling with your dad by your side, your eyes find him. So statuesque, Gavin is the embodiment of collectedness.
Hope filled your body to the brim when you first locked eyes with him. You’ve never been the girl to be starstruck, but it felt like Zeus himself shot a bolt of lightning throughout your body when you felt the firm grip of Gavin's hand.
You stammer, “ Hi-i Governor Newsom, it’s such an honor!” You exclaim and smile big, to hide your utter shock at how gorgeous he was. Pictures didn’t do him justice. His rolled-back sleeves showed off the tone in his arms, his top button undone, leaving room for your imagination to go wild. His skin was perfectly dewy, and his green eyes, with the sweetness of honey, holding the future of the country within them. The grasp of the handshake was assertive and firm, with an undertone of fragility and inclusivity.
“Ah, you can call me Gavin, I'm not going to be governor for much longer.” He responds with a light chuckle. His demeanor is so casual, you wonder how he kept at it for twenty-plus years.
“ I dunno if I feel comfortable with that, it’s way too informal, Mr. Newsom,” You so nervously put it.
“ Yeah, sure sure, just don’t call me Newscum. ” He settles with this, nodding his head and keeping his casual chuckle.
“Oh, gosh, I-I would never” You fluster as a result of his teasing, at his expense.
“ Oh I’m just teasing,” He places his hands on the back, near your shoulders.
“Your dad tells me you're in a PhD program at UC Berkeley? What’s your thesis topic?” He walks you and your dad towards his office.
“Ummm, it's around history. More specifically on the cold war and how it shaped American foreign policy. I’m a bit of a JFK fan girl.” You give him a soft smile, thinking you sound a bit nerdy.
“ Well, that makes sense. He was a smart guy, gave the country hope.” Gavin responds.
“Yeah, of course. I think he’s beginning to be more important as of recent. I mean at least for me.” His hazel eyes focus on yours for a brief moment, before he realizes he’s at his office. The shifting of the knob knocks you out of your trance-like state.
The inside of his office is what you’d expect, clean and professional. Dark mahogany wood covers the interior of the room, with a whiff of sandalwood hitting you as you tread in. There is something undeniably him in this room. Framed pictures of him and his kids are scattered on his desks.
“Well, I’ll have my assistant show you around the building, I gotta tell ya, it's absolutely gorgeous. That is of course if you would like to see? I gotta do some end-of-term stuff with your old man, it’s quite boring.” The cadence of his voice rushed around his words. Still calm and collected, there’s a suggestion of flusteredness to his words.
You stammer about, “I’d like that very much, Thank you, Mr. Newsom.” His assistant pops in and asks to show you the parts of the capitol you could visit. Of course, you nod, only because you’re genuinely excited to see it. You smile at your dad and give him a quick goodbye.
You’d wish he’d ask you to stay. You wanted to be around him, get to know him and what he does, but you’d have other opportunities, you wish.
After taking a quick tour of the building, you said your goodbyes to one of his assistants. Driving out to the Airbnb you booked, you looked out the window of the car, gazing upon the lush scenery of northern California. When you get there, you pull out a bottle of chilled red wine, pour yourself a glass, and drink. You needed to get your mind off things. Of course, it was normal to crush on him, he was an attractive man. But the governor’s presence lingered in your mind. It's never been like this. No man has ever had this much of a pull on your psyche. You almost want to bang your head against the wall. He’s decades older than you for god’s sake! Downing the glass of wine, you head over to the sofa and turn on the tv. The saccharin taste of the wine as well as the charm of Ralph Fiennes makes you a bit drowsy, and your head a bit hot. You could hear Jlo’s love confession as you dozed off for god knows how long, sinking into the couch.
The ring of the doorbell wakes you up. Your dad is there at the door. The nighttime chill surrounds your dad as he stands there, reminding you of your evening plans. The governor had invited your family to dinner at 7.
“ Come in,” You mumble and rub your eyes. He was already dressed. Your hair and makeup were already done earlier, but you put on your pink-striped Victoria's Secret pajama set, exhausted when you first got to the Airbnb.
“ You know you only have a few minutes right? It's 6 o'clock and the reservation is set for 7. Come on, let's get to it.” He claps his hands enthusiastically. Your father is not one to be super chipper. You raise your eyebrows at him, basically asking him what the hell is with you?
“ I’m just excited is all. There are big things coming. Huge.” He shouts as he practically skips to the bathroom. You shake this weird feeling you have off and get dressed. You slip on a satin cream midi dress, and a pair of closed-toe ballet flats, and fix what you ruined while sleeping. You think about
Your head is fuzzy from the big glass of wine and the eons-long nap, you decide that your dad should drive. You needed time to gear yourself up. Think about what you have to say. Keep it casual, but not too casual. Try not to think about it, don't think at all. But don’t embarrass yourself.
Your father senses this and turns the volume up on the car. He’s used to this, seeing you internally rock back and forth, you need the noise in your brain to be drowned out.
“You need to stop being so neurotic and obvious ya know.” He casually says.
“ I don't know what you’re talking about. And if I did, you knew I would be like this. Besides, I won't ruin your big moment so you don't have to be worried.” You respond while looking out at the nighttime sky, twiddling your thumbs.
“For Christ's sake, you know that it won’t happen. Just be happy for me. Everything is going to change. Be happy for this country!” Still walking around the words I know you're infatuated with my boss, but for me, work through this. His tone isn’t angry, just a bit flustered. Nervous, just like yours.
You whisper a weak “ok”, and after a while, you arrive. The restaurant is sleek and elegant, but still small and intimate. Many people circle the restaurant, which your dad recognizes. Dressed professionally and so effortlessly, you feel a bit empty. Being careful not to slam the car door, you quietly step out, fluffing your dress out. You sigh and walk toward Gavin’s entourage.
“I thought this was a small thing, not a frigging gala!” You whisper to your dad.
“It is, it is, but just know that there are a lot of people here for a reason. We’ll be fine. You're probably sitting across from me, so you can kick my leg if you want to go.”
Your dad introduces you to the staff and their family members, of which seem to be at least a little bit acquainted with each other. You give small “ hellos” and “nice to meet you, it's a pleasure”. Big, polite smiles and loose handshakes are repeated motions for about two minutes as more people arrive.
Gavin follows suit. Suited with a black coat, and a navy button-up, he suavely adjusts the sides of his jacket. He flashes one of his famous movie star smiles at your dad, and pulls him in for a hug, patting him on the back. Your dad continues to greet more staff members, as Gavin inches closer to you.
“Y/N, nice seeing you again.” He pauses for a moment, figuring out how to greet you. You take a long time to react, while the two of you are at a standstill, fading into each other’s eyes. Ultimately, he reaches for your right hand and softly sandwiches it between his. Your heart skips a beat, and to be quite honest, you're a little embarrassed. Palms humid and hot, the touch of his fingers makes your thighs clench. Shivers go up and down your spine.
“Yeah, you as well,” You look up.
He opens his mouth to say something, but he stops and continues to move on with his greetings.
“God, I'm such an idiot.” You whisper to yourself. “ And I’m hungry.”
The restaurant is warmly lit, with delicate round bulbs hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the room. It’s mostly empty, except for the long table in the middle, with place cards on each silver plater. You walk around the table to find your name. Sitting across from the only two people that you are familiar with, you trace the lines across your hands and bite your lip. You strike up a conversation with the woman next to you about the kind of chardonnay this restaurant has, and what kind of green is the best with a vinaigrette dressing. The two of you decided that a crisp romaine was the best in general.
“Hey, I wonder what he called us all here for, and uh, I heard that your dad is getting really close to Gavin so I was just wondering if you know anything? If not it's totally fine.” She softly murmurs to you. The hums and constant chatter bring you out of it a little bit, but you manage to answer.
“You know, I’m not sure! I’m honestly kind of lost, I just had met him today. And to be quite honest, I don’t have a clue why my dad is so close to him. ” You admit to her. It’s like he knows you’re talking about him, rummaging through the chatter to hear your voice. He seems to stare you down, and you feel his eyes on you, not particularly minding them.
“ Well, yeah, Gavin is great. He’s real interesting too.” You nod your head in agreement.
The waiter comes around the table and asks everyone for their order. You decide on garlic chicken and a tomato and basil salad, with a red wine.
You watch the governor laugh at something someone besides him whispered. You want to know what was so funny. You wanted to know everything he liked. What did he order? Did he drink his coffee black? What did he listen to when he got ready? How did he like his eggs in the morning? Who is his favorite president?
You drone on and on about your thesis to the woman sitting next to you, until you hear Gavin speak up, calmly commanding the room, all chatter comes to a halt.
“Hello everyone, I'm just stopping all of your wonderful conversations to say something really quick. I just want to say that I’m immensely grateful that everyone and their families came and just overall for the immense support you all have shown me. Truly. Truly, I am grateful. Now, I know all of you folks are wondering why I invited you all over here so I’ll spare you the suspense. I… am officially… bidding to be the nominee at the DNC. ” Applause erupts. Someone starts cheering. He lightly chuckles. After a small moment of auditory chaos, silence is invoked once again.
“ Look I know that it seems like it’ll be a long time till then, but I want to be prepared. I am throwing my hat into the ring. I believe in us. I believe we can do this. It’s not just for me. Think of our future generations and the world they want to live in. I know things aren’t ideal. But we’ve gone through hard times, but we got out. We’re resilient. I value that. Our hope outweighs our dread. The only way out is through. And I’ll fight. I’ll try my damnest. I owe everyone that much. I love this beautiful state. I know we’re exhausted, I know, but there is work to be done. And my work is not done. I love this country and we deserve better. Listen, I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but, I don’t know, I’m so ecstatic I’m already giving speeches!" He moves like an orchestral conductor, swiftly moving his arms and hands. You look at him as he's holding the whole world in his hands. For a brief moment, everything feels slow. Your brain purposely edits this moment in slow motion, like you're in a movie. Like it knows that you should remember this moment for lifetimes. You hold your hands to your heart, almost in a prayerlike motion. Petite droplets of tears fall from your eyes, down your cheeks. Your mouth moves upward into a soft smile.
After a day of drinking too much wine, you head to the bathroom. Your cheeks feel hot and you stumble about, opening the bathroom door. You wash your hands. You look in the mirror, freshening up. Drying your hands, your mind blanks. You needed to cool down and stop being so infatuated with someone else’s accomplishments. You mindlessly hum to yourself, flicking the water of your hands, smoothening your dress, fixing the top, and reapplying your lipgloss. A bit buzzed, you head for the door, thoughtlessly. You collide with Gavin, who was just about to head into the men's room himself. Pretty hard, hitting your nose against his chin. You can feel the warmth radiating off of his body, engulfing you in it. A wave of amber, and a citrusy-like spice, hit you.
“ Oh, sir, I am so sorry-
“No, no, no sweetheart, you're all good, I’m such a klutz, didn’t even see where I was going.”
“Oh, no not at all, to be frank, I’m a bit drunk -and I’m-Im so so sorry!” You apologetically sputter. Your responses overlap with each other, resulting in incomprehensible muttering.
You feel so vulnerable, emotionally weakened by alcohol, stumbling into the man that you're infatuated with, you start panicking a little.
Both of you feel a bit cornered by the other. There is no one in the women's room, and the dim lighting in this part of the restaurant is alarmingly intimate. It doesn’t help that it's in the back, away from everyone.
“ Oh, honey, it’s really no big deal. Look no harm no foul. I mean are you fine? I hit your nose.” His eyebrows furrow, and he frowns. He soothes your nerves, softly gripping your arms with his hands. He gazes straight into your eyes, attentive and meaningful.
You softly graze your nose with your fingers, nose feeling a bit sore but fine. “ Yeah, I’m fine. Promise.” You quietly reassure him with a whisper. Space and time stop, yet again. His grip on your arm loosens, and he cups your chin, inspecting your nose with an observant eye.
“ There’s a twinkle in your eyes, it’s so beautiful.” His voice, raspy and enamoring. As beautiful as the deep sequoia brown bark trees, as beautiful as the deep, sparkling lakes, as beautiful as the lush mountains.
You don’t know how to respond, or if you should for that matter. Your eyes squint, it's quite obvious you’re confused. Is this real? Is this happening? Blood rushes to your head, now throbbing. His look changes from yearnful to somewhat ashamed. Whatever clouded his judgment and levelheadedness that was just absent moments before, came back. He backs off, just becoming disgusted with himself. What has he done?
He catches his breath, clutching his hands near his chests. He looks away from you, embarrassed that something just compelled him to do that. He strides, practically running, toward the door, rubbing the sweat off of his top lip. His demeanor and body language frigid, with his arms straight as a wooden ruler. The door to the restroom swings open, and you kind of just stand there, frozen. Dissocated from all the noises and commotion around you, focusing on a singular grey speck on the floor. You manage to walk to the table, just putting one foot in front of the other. You’ll forget all about this. You’ll become esteemed in your career, and forget all about how the man you look up to the most just said that there is a twinkle in your eyes, and how his touch felt on your chin, how euphoric his gaze felt on your skin. You’ll try your damnest to forget. But the sweet sensation of his touch forever leaves you in a haze.