Mr. President

“I am.”

“Of course. Hello Nicholas, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, Aphrodite, it sounded amazing…Not that I expected any less.” Nick added quickly.

“Thank you. I had some pretty—“

“Amazing inspiration…I know, what I don’t know is what the inspiration was.”

“Ah, and you never will Ry. You never will.” I replied.

“I’ll get it out of you one day A, just you wait.” Ryan replied.

“I’d like to see you try. Anyways I’ve got to get home, family dinner and whatnot. Do you think you could finish up?”

“If I can’t, Nick can.”

“Right…”I drug out. “So I’m leaving my song in your hands Nicholas. Don’t mess it up.”

“I would—“

“Relax, I was kidding. I think it’s safer in your hands than in Ryan’s” Nick let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll see you tomorrow, have fun. But not too much.”

…

“Did you finish the song, Aphrodite?”

“No Daddy, I almost did. The only thing left was to add a few finishing touches.”

“And who’s doing that if you’re here?”

“I left it with Ryan and Nicholas, Daddy.” I replied and began to eat my fruit. I’ve always had a horrible relationship with food. My disorder wasn’t going away over night, everyone knew that. I moved on to my veggies. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put a piece of meat into my mouth. Right now the goal is to be able to eat three meals a day. Preferably ones that consist of more than half a grapefruit and four pieces of broccoli and a few slices of cucumber.

…

“Little Nicky’s got a crush on the president’s daughter.” Joe teased.

“Shut-up Joe.”

“Do you have any idea who it’s about?” Ryan asked Nick.

“No, but I wish I did.” Nick replied.

“More like you wish it was you.” Joe interjected.