#augustuscallaway001

[estherdanvers]

[ september 17, 2020 - lockdown. ]   [ @augustusgcallwayvi​ ]

The sound of the gunshot rung through her ears as she shrieked a little, scared by the unexpected noise. It wasn’t like it was entirely unfamiliar, but the proximity scared her a little. Within seconds, Esther found herself being hustled out a side door, a small room off the main building as a Secret Service Agent deemed her accounted for and closed the door behind her. Of course this was the moment she and Alfred had decided to separate to do some networking as well. “Fuck,” she whispered underneath her breath, pulled her phone out of her handbag, still facing the door..

OUTGOING TEXT TO: Alfred

    Are you okay? I got moved into a contained room in the hall.

    Let me know if you know what’s happening?

Esther turned around, her back hitting the wall for a moment before another person was ushered into the room with her. She sighed when she noticed it wasn’t Alfred. “Senator,” Esther nodded. “Did you happen to see my husband out there?”

[charliekeeting]

Charlie knew today wasn’t going to be an easy night, but he’d at least thought he’d make it an hour without needing a breather from all the suffocating noise. 

It would have been fine, to be perfectly honest, if the majority of the suffocating noise in question wasn’t coming from a handful of particularly republican congressman walking by them. Charlie could feel the sarcasm dripping from their voices as they talked about their outfit, the complete lack of respect coating their already snakelike voices. One in particular thought it was amusing to say hello, shake hands, and whisper slurs into his ear as they interacted. 

“Enjoy hell," he finished. “I can’t wait to watch you get kicked out of Congress.”

Charlie bit the inside of their mouth, knowing all too well what would happen if they said anything out of line. He sat back down at his table, waited a minute, watched them leave and begin interacting with their buddies before politely excusing themselves from the table to head into the bathroom. He moved towards the accessible washroom before he saw the vacancy light click closed. Frustrated and upset, Charlie didn’t want to wait, pushing themselves into the men’s washroom for a moment. Their heels clicked on the washroom tiles for a moment, back slamming onto the wall. Their eyes fluttered shut to stop the handful of tears forming before their ears perked up, recognizing another person in the space. Fuck, they thought to themselves.

Charlie jumped off the wall and towards the mirror, poising to check his makeup. The last thing he wanted to do was have some republican dickead see him crying, but his eyes were puffed, cheeks flushed regardless of how much he tried to stop it. He adjusted the bow on his suit jacket ever so slightly, tucked a pin back into his updo, head down trying to avoid eye contact with whoever was there.

[ @augustusgcallwayvi​ ] 

[sophiehotch]

Sophie settled into the small corner of the upscale coffee shop. A little more formal than the Starbucks down the road. It was also a little more expensive for her small wallet, but when the corporate card was paying for her lunch with a Senator, she was more than happy to go wherever her boss told her to. She had her table prepped in front of her, notebook sitting in front, recorder to the side of her. She already knew this interview was going to be harder than most of her others - after all, it was much harder to act impartial when the person in front of her disagreed with her personal politics - but being impartial in her writing, interviewing both sides of government, was important. Just the other day, she had taken an interview with Charlie Keeting, a queer andeco-conscious representative from New York the other day for her collection on the Senators and Congresspeople, and now, the tables had turned entirely as she waited for Augustus Callaway. She knew who he was - it was her job to know, of course - a right wing populist she didn’t agree on anything with. 

Still, she kept a smile on her face as she prepped her notepad before looking up to see Mr. Callaway make his way into the cafe. She raised her hand, waving him over before standing up as he approached the table. “Mr. Callaway, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, hand extended in a formal manner. “Sophia Hotchner, Washington Post.” 

[ @augustusgcallwayvi ]