The Blackout had been hard for everyone. Of course, it was the apocalypse, so that was to be expected. What wasn’t normal was that when order finally came back, it would be almost immediately followed by turmoil that made the President long for the days when people were slaughtering each other for bags of chips. At least in those days, he still had Miles at his side. They’d been best friends since they were children, and Bass had loved him nearly as long. Finally getting to be with him was... indescribable, even if they had to keep their relationship secret at Miles’ behest.
Then Bass woke up with Miles’ gun in his face, and Miles had fled. Monroe, who had been growing increasingly more violent and unstable, shattered completely. An endless parade of men and women marched through his bedroom each night, but Monroe could hardly tell one from the other. None was right. One of his distractions, a pretty blonde, stood at the door to his office one night. Monroe barely glanced up from his paperwork, though the half-empty bottle of whiskey next to him showed all too clearly that he wasn’t really working.