Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Reagan pressed his hands together, his fingers dancing back and forth between the smooth surface of his nails, and the rigid texture of his diamond engagement ring, as he struggled to contain the nervous energy coursing through his body. He cast a vote for himself earlier in the day, and there was officially nothing else to be done but wait.

Eva had everything set in motion. Every staffer was hitting the phones, or working with Ryan on bussing people to the polls. All Reagan could do was just exist, or as Eva had put it, “Be confident, smile, and look pretty. Just be yourself, Reah, we’re in the home stretch.”

‘Smile and look pretty.’ Reagan scoffed, feeling like the comment reduced him to being an accessory - arm candy for the protagonist instead of being the protagonist himself.

Holding up his hand, Reagan moved his fingers, and the heavy ring on his left hand glistened under the overhead lights. He felt a rush the first time it was slipped into place, but right then it seemed completely insane.

‘If I was a woman, Elias would be a great match. Conversation is easy, the arguments are engaging, and in the bedroom we… I’m a man, and I like women. I’m not a woman.’

A flash of memory from the night before flooded Reagan’s mind. He remembered lying on his back on the kitchen table, his legs resting on the taller man’s shoulders, and the intense feelings he felt as they fucked. A light blush colored his face, a mixture of both desire and shame.

“Someone looks happy.”

A voice broke Reagan from his introspection. It was his younger sister, standing in front of the candidate whose thoughts couldn’t be further from the present. She held her hands behind her back, as she leaned into his personal space.

Unlike the last time he saw her, no one would have assumed the two had coordinated their outfits that morning. She wore a pair of blue jeans, practically painted on, black leather block heeled booties, and a long sleeved cotton blouse, cut far too low for any corporate environment. Every piece was cheap fast fashion, off the rack somewhere. He disliked the fact that his first thought after setting eyes on his sister was a critique of exactly what was wrong with her outfit, and that his own knowledge had grown to the expert level required to accurately do so.

“Callie, you’re looking cute today.”

A smile slipped into place on Reagan’s face. He had a good idea how much more expensive his feminine attire was compared to hers. He wore a short, black Armani skirt, priced just over twelve-hundred dollars. His hip-length, fitted, black blazer was around three-thousand. The ivory, silk, button-collar, Ralph Lauren blouse, modestly priced at just under a thousand, showed more cleavage than he was comfortable with. The two-tone, black and red Jimmy Choos with four-inch stilettos probably cost more than the younger Demir brought home in a week. Each article of clothing was custom tailored, and expensed to the campaign.

“Aww, thanks. I need to encourage the fellas to leave better tips at work tonight, and if I’m really lucky my girlfriend Maddie might get a little jealous. The green-eyed monster is always more fun in bed.

“I thought the two of you were one break?” he asked, wishing he hadn’t just opened that door.

Callie waved a hand dismissively. “That was last week. Next week, we’re going camping.”

The suggestion his little sister, the prissy girl he grew up with, was going to go camping caused Reagan’s mind to stutter. He wondered if that was a lesbian thing - if she was trying to be more butch.

“Camping?! You?!”

Callie laughed, a bright smile spreading across her face. “Yes, I can camp! Buuuuut…” She drew out the word. “We’re staying in a cabin, so it isn’t camping, camping. It’s mostly an excuse to get away, just the two of us. One of our mutual friends has an uncle with a cabin, and they aren’t using it, and oh you would…”

Reagan felt his sister touch his forearm lightly as she told a story that sounded like she was playing Six Degrees to Kevin Bacon. When she first brought up camping he realized just how much of her life he had missed, and how much he didn’t know about the little girl that once followed him everywhere. Even after all that time and drama, she was his personal cheerleader once again, showing her support on election day. It made him feel like there was a part of his life that could actually be stable.

“Hey,” he interrupted, “have you talked to Heather or Vickie recently?”

Giving her new sister a sideways glance, Callie pulled out her phone. “The real question is, when was the last time you spoke to them?”

“You know how busy…” Reagan began, an excuse always at the ready, but he was cut short as Callie held the screen in his face, where he could see it calling their eldest sister.

“Hey, sis.” Reagan heard the voice of Heather, who lived in Long Island New York with her husband and two sons.

“Ah, hi...” he replied uncomfortably.

He and Heather never really had any problems. They always got along. Reagan sent birthday cards, or an assistant of his would. He just never made a real effort to be closer. As soon as Reagan spoke up Callie squeezed herself in, wrapping her free hand around his waist.

“Hey Heather! That was actually your other sister, Reagan! Doesn’t she sound incredible?! It might be election day, and would you believe she’s more occupied by this giant rock on her finger? I caught her staring at it when I got here.”

“Reagan, you’re getting married?! To who?! Wait, wait, wait! Let me get Vickie on the line with us. You can tell us all more about what has been going on in your life.”

“Uhh....”

Reagan pursed his lips before his practiced smile returned, as he searched the room for his campaign manager. As their eyes met, his went wide, pleading for her to come to his rescue.

“A lot of stuff happening here…. Election day. One way or the other I’m going to have to make a speech later.”

Part of him didn’t want his sisters to know he’d been pretending to be a trans woman, let alone that he had gotten engaged to a man. Another part felt joy that her first reaction was excitement instead of derision. Heather had never given him a reason to think she would be appalled by what he had become, but his discomfort in his own skin was easy to project onto others.

“Yeah I bet… bitch never picks up.” the young siblings heard Heather say, her voice a bit sharper, before resuming its usual friendly tone. “Vickie isn’t answering, but you being busy is nothing new. For such skilled orators, you and her are shit at communication.”

From across the room Eva’s smile grew wide. She saw Reagan and her little sister closer than they had been in over a decade, both figuratively and literally. Reagan’s plea for help wasn’t lost on her. She was going to help, but didn’t feel the need to hurry. As she approached, she greeted the pair with a friendly wave, while in her other hand her phone began buzzing, and it didn’t seem like it was going to stop.

“Hi, Callie, I’m sorry to interrupt but I need to borrow your sister. I can give her back in just a few.”

With a slight bow of his head, Reagan mouthed the words, “Thank you.” as he pulled himself away. “Sorry, Heather, Callie, like I said, busy day. We will have to catch up more later.”

The desire to have his sister in his life, and the desire to escape her clutches didn’t seem like a contradiction to Reagan. It was just awkward. Callie was always a touchy-feely person. Her clinging onto him was normal, or it once was at least. The way she was speaking so freely, and adding Heather to the mix, it all became a bit overwhelming. It was like a lowlife journalist throwing out a gotcha question that he was unprepared for.

Resuming their conversation was something he was willing to do, and welcome even when he was prepared for it, but thankfully he had time to prepare. It did however trigger a memory from about a year before his parents divorced.

Twelve year old Reagan walked into the kitchen, or was doing so the best he could with Callie latched onto his right leg, both arms and legs wrapped around it, for reasons he couldn’t even remember, other than the vague idea that he had refused to entertain one of her impulsive whims. The innocent memory brought a smile to his collagen-enhanced lips as he said his goodbyes.

As the day went on Reagan got to spend a little more time with his sister before she had to head off to work. With not much to do but ruminate the feminized man pondered more Callie’s assessment of his engagement. As though she was psychic, she picked up on it right away. It was a topic his thoughts kept coming back to, trying to make sense of the joy he felt when the question was asked.

He still thought the feelings were wrong, but Reagan knew Elias was a clever man. An engagement just a few days before the polls opened had him back in the news, and his name on people’s lips and in their minds as they walked into the voting booth. He thought it an act of brilliance, one Eva should have thought of first, but even though the idea wasn’t hers, his friend was absolutely playing up the part of thrilled soon-to-be sister-in-law, and all Reagan could do was play along.

Examining the ring, Reagan was lost in thought. He wondered when the best time would be for the inevitable break up, and the transition back to being himself, his mind focusing on the word transitioning and not liking the taste. He knew he was all man, despite also knowing the person in the mirror looked very much like someone his old self would have taken to bed in an instant.

It was during those thoughts that he was surprised by someone wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him tightly into their firm body, nearly taking him off his feet.

“Wha…?”

Elias kissed the woman he loved on the side of her neck. “Hello, my queen.”

“Elias? You almost gave me a heart attack.” Reagan’s cheeks flushed, as he felt three more quick kisses, each one slightly higher than the last. “Want to let go? There are people everywhere.”

Reagan took a deep breath. While he couldn’t see them, his eyes began to dilate as the emotions within him swelled.

“Just couldn’t help myself. I’m fine here, but if you would like to go somewhere private…” Elias let his words drift, as his other hand gripped his love’s hip, pressing her perfect ass against him so she could feel his excitement.

“Ahh…, mmm.”

The flush in Reagan’s cheeks grew crimson, as he felt the semi-hard member through their clothes. He still felt he should be appalled and disgusted, but by that point it paled in comparison to the feelings of excitement. Reagan had always enjoyed other people’s attention, and he loved it when that attention came in the form of desire. On a fundamental level that was precisely what Elias Arnault offered.

“Give me ten minutes and meet me in the backroom.”

A shiver ran through his body as he put a heeled foot forward to break away from the bearded man. Turning his body ninety degrees, Reagan caught a glimpse of Elias from the corner of his eye, refusing to look directly at him. He raised his arm, bent at the elbow, and tapped his wrist. The signal said all it needed to say, “Ten minutes.”

Then, without another word, Reagan strutted across the office, adding a little extra wiggle to his step, knowing the effect it would have on his fiance. He knew he now held a new power - a type of control women had. There was no mental rationalization for what the old Reagan would call a purely feminine act, a woman trying to excite her man, even as he continued to rationalize away the engagement.

Leaning up against a wall, Eva held her hand over her ear, trying to block out the sound from the noisy room. As she listened to her voicemail, an almost manic glee painted her expression. Spotting Reah, sneaking into the back room, she quickly followed, practically skipping all the way there.

‘It's happening, it's happening… I can’t believe I did it!’ she thought in disbelief.

Without knocking, the excited woman entered the back room, pausing mid-step, as she saw her friend standing in the middle of the room, blazer off, fumbling with the zipper of her skirt.

“Eva!” Reagan exclaimed, yanking the zipper back into place. “Do you ever knock?”

Blinking a few times, the auburn-haired woman closed the door behind her. “Ah… No.”

“No?!” The response left the feminized man exasperated. Swallowing hard,he was torn between telling her to leave before she ruined his quickie, and taking the time to have a long overdue conversation about who was actually in charge.

“Deh-deh-deh…” Eva waved her hand in the air dismissively. “No time for any of that, we won!”

The dismissal instantly had Reagan seeing red. “Where do you get off… …I won?”

“Reah, you’re going to be Florida’s next U.S. Senator!”

Suddenly that anger was the furthest thing from Reagan’s mind. “Your,” his hand reached up, hovering just over his collagen inflated lips, “shitting me!?”

“I’m not but...” Eva was ecstatic, bouncing up and down, as she wrapped her future sister-in-law in a girlish embrace. “We did it, we did it! Is now a bad time to remind you that you still owe me that raise?”

Feeling his breasts mashing into Eva’s didn’t create any lewd thoughts in Reagan’s mind, as it once would have. He knew he was going to win, or at least he did right after winning the primary. Ever since he had been dragged down the unwanted feminine road, he suddenly realized he had been clinging to a delusion. Right there, as he wrapped his arms around Eva, Reagan was befuddled that that delusion somehow became reality.

“I did it… I really fucking did it!”

“Hold on, hold on. It isn’t official yet. I don’t think they’ll actually call it for you for at least another hour, but Reah, we did it!”

Eva tried to school her expression. She knew they’d have to maintain their professional demeanor when they left the room. It didn’t escape her how Reagan kept saying “I” instead of “we”. As far as she was concerned she had done it. Reah was the horse in this race, but she was the jockey.

“Ok, now we need to go over some things. First thing for you to know is the unofficial count has you winning outside the margins for an automatic recount, so unless something apocalyptic happens, you are going to be the first openly transgender Senator. That woman from Delaware might have beat you to congress, but she’s in the house. You’ve got six years before you’ve got to worry about reelection. That's good. That's really good!”

At that last bit of info, Eva noticed Reagan’s joy fade just a little, which she could only assume was the reality of the situation slapping her best friend in the face.

“We do have to consider what we are going to do six years from now. Even with the added edge of incumbency, there’s no way the Republicans are going to run you. You may have fallen through the cracks this time, since you primaried as their poster boy, but MAGA has thoroughly hijacked the party now, Reah. Their entire platform is built on the premise that you, and people like you are deviants. The good news is, I think with your business first platform we can run you as a Democrat and…”

“...wait...”

Reagan shook his head. Being transgender was the story, but that wasn’t supposed to stick, and talk of switching parties immediately after a victory threw him for a loop.

“I’m a Republican, Eva. My base… I mean… I was elected by Republicans, I’m getting funding from the GOP for heaven’s sake!”

“Please,” Eva rolled her eyes, “for as long as I have known you, Reah, you have transcended parties. Democrat, Republican, Blue, Red - those are just tools to achieve your goals. That base you once pandered to, we both know it didn’t fit with who you are on the inside, and sure some of them came back, but we both know that the only people in red hats who voted for you probably didn’t know what you’ve got under your skirt. I can almost guarantee that won’t be happening again, after the inevitable media circus that’s going to follow. You’ve been big news in Florida, sure, but you’re about to be famous across the whole country.”

Eva shook her head slowly as she spoke, thinking about the start of the campaign, and how Reagan Esen Demir presented themselves - confident, with an ego large enough to fill a room, and so sure of where they were going, as if that belief alone could make it true.

‘I can’t imagine how Reah actually felt while pandering to the worst people in order to achieve her dream.’

With a sad smile she placed her hand on her friend’s forearm. Reagan had never been a large person, but she hardly felt much muscle at all in the lithe limb, a clear representation of just how much the person in the fitted suit had changed.

“We’re in for a hard road ahead, but I can only ask now that you don’t forget who you are.”

‘She’s right…’ Grinding his jaw from left to right, Reagan processed all the new information. He was an expert at turning any situation to his advantage. In her own way, Eva was just trying to drive that point home. He thought he knew what she wanted to hear.

“I’m Reah.”

“Yeah you are, but that isn’t what I meant.”

Eva gave her friend’s arm a gentle squeeze. The nickname began as a way to watch Reagan squirm, especially when it made that person so obviously uncomfortable. Now she saw it from a different perspective. Reagan was just too afraid to admit how much she loved it, too scared of opening herself up - of being hurt. In all the time that Eva had known Reagan, one thing was abundantly obvious. Reagan had a hard time accepting rejection.

“What you are is a winner, and one that will do whatever she has to to seize victory.”

“Yeah…” Reagan said with a softer voice. “Can we talk about this another time?”

Not long before, it wouldn’t have been a question. He would have told anyone to put a pin in it, with no real plans to circle back around.

With a nod, Eva slapped herself lightly on both cheeks. “Okay, it is almost show time, I will let you know when it’s time to get up on stage. For now, do you need anything? Bottle of water? Another hug?”

Reagan’s blue eyes slid to the closed door, a little surprised Elias hadn’t also barged in without knocking. “No… I… yeah, I’ll be okay. Just come get me when the time is right.”

“You got it, Reah, but don’t stay back here too long. We need your gorgeous face out there.”

Chapter 24

While Eva and Reagan were discussing their plans for the future, outside the door, Elias was **** to meet his fiance’s deadline, but he was held up by a squat troll of a man with more money than principles, Albert Amancio.

“So, you must be happy.” Albert said smugly to the much younger, and much taller man.

The first time the two met he watched Reagan perform fellacio on Elias. Though the situation was off, and clearly the blonde wasn’t used to such things, Albert didn’t really care. The whole thing might have only been a performance to gain the wealthy donor’s favor, but the results were still the same, Reagan belonged to him.

“Hmm?” Elias slowed his pace, recognizing the shriveled voyeurist. “Can’t say I have anything to complain about. This is a moment that will go down in history.”

“Yes, yes, history indeed.” Reagan wouldn’t be the first politician he bought, but definitely the one he had the most control over. “I was speaking more to your engagement, and the government contracts that will come with it.”

Cocking his head to the side, Elias narrowed his eyes at the old man, before a playful smirk graced his countenance. Distracted by the treat that awaited him, it took a moment to grasp what he was saying.

“The future Mrs. Arnoult will do what she believes is in the best interest of her constituents. If she selects my company it would be because we are the obvious choice for the people.”

While lustful desire pulled him toward his destination, he couldn’t bypass the opportunity to work his magic on a potential investor. Amancio wasn’t someone he really wanted to be in bed with, literally or metaphorically, but he was a man of his word, and Elias had seen how much he’d already invested in the love of his life. Reagan seemed like putting on a little performance for the geriatric man, so doing another seemed a fair price to advance his goals.

“You...” Albert tapped Elias’ chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath his shirt. “You’d be surprised how much is out there when you’ve got the right connections. Have you ever considered how many employees it takes to run Raytheon? Imagine the profit share if they were to incorporate your software.”

The annoyance on Elias’ face pleased Albert no end. The young professional’s disdain at the casual touch was obvious, but he kept his temper in check for the sake of potential monetary gain, and that was the kind of power the corrupt elder reveled in. That was when Eva exited the room, and quietly snuck past the two, long enough to catch the lecherous old man’s leering gaze.

“If you haven’t considered it before, now might be a good time to do so. Have your lovely… young lady give me a call. We’ll set up a meeting. You think hard on my offer. I’m happy to help guide both you and your fiance to greener pastures. For now, I need to speak with the Senator-elect.”

Cracking his knuckles, Elias glared at the back of the old man’s head as he walked past. On instinct he went to follow, but stopped himself. He knew his future wife liked her independence, and was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. If the woman he adored needed his assistance for anything, or even just to vent, she would most certainly share that with him at a better time. Still, he felt the need to give voice to his thoughts, if only for himself to hear.

“I do not trust that man.”

Reagan sat on the edge of the desk in the room.

“Run as a Democrat?” he asked himself.

It felt like even considering the possibility was a betrayal, but getting as far as he had so far felt like he’d already betrayed who he used to be.

‘Eva’s right… I will do what I have to in order to win. The Democrats are basically centrist now, anyway.’

Before his mind could venture further down that path, a single heavy knock rang through the door. Not awaiting an answer, Albert Amancio entered, closing the door behind him.

“My dear,” Albert greeted with open arms.

It seemed not that long ago that a bright young man sought Albert out to back his run for office. They discussed Reagan’s goals, and favors that would be expected in return. Afterwards they drank together at what Albert antiquatedly described as “dance halls”. On that occasion, Reagan enjoyed one of the more illicit services the girls offered. To say Albert was surprised when that same candidate came out as transgender at the worst possible time would be an understatement.

His initial assumption was that Reagan must be putting on a show for reasons he couldn’t fathom. He continued to think the same after watching Reagan’s inexpert oral performance. However, after observing the way the happy couple looked at each other, the observant man knew there were some feelings people couldn’t fake. He had to admit he was wrong, though not out loud of course. Either way they had finally reached their goal.

“A little birdie told me we have cause for celebration.”

Reagan scooted off the desk and hesitantly accepted the embrace. Even stranger was the accompanying kiss on the cheek.

“My, my.”

Albert took a step back to take in Reagan’s form. The tight pencil skirt and stylish high heels made those legs look incredible, almost as much as her soft tits. He would have been standing tall and proud in that moment if he’d taken one of his little blue pills beforehand.

“A vision of loveliness, my dear. I for one am happy to hear of your victory. You politicians don’t come cheap. I would have hated to have wasted all that money. You know, if you lost, I was thinking about putting you in my secretarial pool to recoup some of my losses. Can’t buy someone as beautiful as you and not expect anything from it.”

The old man laughed at his own joke, while Reagan’s practiced smile faltered for just a moment.

“You expected me to…”

The idea of him being some office girl, fetching coffee, squandering his law degree if he lost, put an edge on Reagan’s words, even as he contorted his face back into something vaguely resembling a happy expression.

“No need to get hysterical, it was a compliment. I don’t throw away anyone that can still be useful, and a guarantee of work, when you don’t know who’d still touch you after this, sounds like quite a gift to me. That doesn’t matter anyway now. You won, and when you won, I won. Reagan, my dear, I always love backing a winner.”

Albert wrapped an arm around Reagan, firmly gripping his hip, and waved an arm as though he was gesturing to the majesty of a clear night sky.

“You’re the future, honey. As you know, you’re not even old enough to hold your office yet. If your thirtieth wasn’t before January, you never would have made it on the ballot. You can’t find a more youthful voice than that. We have too many octogenarians running things, and yes, I get the humor of that sentiment coming from me, as I pull your strings.”

Neither the man’s touch, nor his words were something Reagan could allow himself to tolerate any longer. He pulled himself away to face Albert Amancia, eye to eye.

“Mr Amancio, I promised to use you as an advisor. This puppet nonsense isn’t going to fly. Let me be clear, you don’t own me.”

The man wasn’t just wealthy, he was well connected. It was the primary reason Reagan went to him in the first place. The man’s failed political career had been another. Reagan knew he could use that to manipulate him. Standing up to him wasn’t exactly a good career move, but Reagan had sacrificed, and sacrificed, and sacrificed some more, ultimately reaching a breaking point.

“Pretty and commanding. I do like a gal with moxy. Again, you’re free to call me Al. But now isn’t the time to play pretend. Think of what I know, dear - who I know, because, I promise, you will enjoy the carrot.” There might have been no mention of the stick, but its implication loomed.

“No,” Reagan shook his head, “I’m going to go back to being a man. I’ll tell everyone that this was all…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the despondent feminized man was interrupted by his own thoughts. ‘Go back to being a man… I am a man… I…’

Suddenly a voice began to speak inside of him, one he’d never paid any mind before.

‘Come on, Reah, when was the last time any of this felt odd?’ he asked himself, thinking about the black lace thong he now wore, knowing his only discomfort that morning was worrying it wouldn’t entice Elias the way he hoped.

“Go back? No, I think not. Sure, some conservatives won’t support you anymore, but they wouldn’t if you tried to undo all of this. I’m sure at least half of them want to fuck you now though, regardless of the distasteful things they say about you. No, my dear, you have enough support as is. I wont have you throwing that away. You millennials seem to be getting more liberal anyway. You have found your lane and you need to stay in it.”

Reagan went to step away from the donor, but felt a tight grip on his wrist.

“You know who I am. This was only because…” Reagan began to say before being cut off a second time.

“I’m a reasonable man. My opinion can change when presented with sufficient evidence. I have seen enough to know what I now know. You can be bi, wanting to get your dick sucked, even while you suck on one yourself. When a woman craves something, she can’t hide it, not from me, and the way you crave that man is obvious for the world to see.

“What I know is you are an attractive woman, and that is something that always sells. You’re engaged, and, at least publicly, a dutiful and faithful woman getting married to a rich and respectful man. The trans thing bothers some, but it invigorates. I’m not sure why you would want to endanger any of that just because you’re getting cold feet. You should stay true to who you are. I know women need a man to reassure them sometimes, but not long from now, you are going to be walking the halls of the Capitol as a representative of your home state. Now is the time to get your head out of the clouds, and keep your pretty heeled feet on the ground.”

When Albert didn’t hear a rebuttal he continued on. He didn’t care if Reagan was transgender, a transexual, or whatever, nor did he know the difference.

“As you know, a Senator can serve on one type A committee, and one type B committee. As a first year any seat you’d normally get would be unimpressive, unless you have someone with pull looking out for you. You should expect a seat on the appropriations committee, or the judiciary committee. I think both of those would benefit you as much as me. I know I can trust a little bulldog like you to bite down, and not let go until you’ve had your way. For the other, Veteran’s Affairs seems like the obvious choice. That does seem to be one of your pet projects. What do you say to all that?”

Reagan’s mouth went dry, as thoughts repeated over and over in his mind - how he really had won, how Albert had already secured prestigious appointments. That same man dismissed the idea of returning to his old life as a flight of fancy, and sadly the reasoning seemed sound.

His eyes glanced down to his breasts - his decidedly feminine, and rather sensitive breasts, then drifted to the blue stone in the rose gold ring on his hand.

‘That means I would actually have to marry Elias… It means I have to continue to live as a woman…’ There was comfort in that thought, and just as quickly, there was discomfort at the comfort. ‘No,no,no…!’

His mind felt as erratic as the chaos he had been living in.

“That wasn’t the plan…” Reagan said, not referring to the committees. In that moment he could hardly remember what they even were.

“Plans change my dear, and thanks to me they are changing for the better. Now, say thank you and show me that pretty smile I love seeing so much.”

“I…”

Reagan blinked, looking very much like flirtatiously fluttering her lashes from Albert’s point of view.

‘This can’t be real. No, no, it is. It makes sense… the sheeple. The people are expecting… and at least Elias will be there at my side…’ A reflexive smile came, only adding Eva to the list after the fact.

“Do you think I could still be President?”

That was the real dream - to build power, money and position on the way to the White House, but his normal confidence was nowhere to be found.

“That could still be in the cards for you. Maybe we get a few more folks on your side by showing how normal you are. A few trips to your local beaches, pictures of you in a bikini in the tabloids, have a ghostwriter churn out a book on how to bring out feminine beauty, or some nonsense.” Albert imagined the attractive blonde in a string bikini behind the resolute desk. “...I’m still waiting for that thank you.”

Feeling weak in the knees, Reagan nodded. “Thank you.”

Hearing those magic words, Albert gave a slap to the future Senator’s rear. “Good girl. I believe you’re going to love your future.”

Reagan’s eyes practically bugged out of his head when he felt the impact of the old man’s hand. Leaning against the wall, he slid down, at first squatting on his heeled feet, before taking a seat on the floor, the ring on his hand suddenly feeling much heavier.

“This wasn’t the plan, I was supposed to go back…” Pressing one hand to his chest Reagan could feel his heart beating rapidly, unable to even finish the sentence. “Am I a woman? I’m just a…”

Freak was the word that failed to find voice, but he didn’t feel like a freak. Callie was finally talking to him again. It only took a little effort, but she was there, smiling, laughing by his side.

Heather seemed incredibly excited for him. Once upon a time family had been so important to him, but along the way something was lost. Reagan wasn’t sure exactly when that happened.

Albert, for all of his many flaws, seemed to believe in him enough to pull strings, even before knowing the election results. Then there were the Arnoults, supportive, if controlling. Both of them stood by his side through even his worst moments. He might have felt out of sorts, the whole situation might have felt completely absurd, but for the first time in as long as he could remember, Reagan didn’t feel alone.

“I can do this, I’m Reagan Esen Demir. I’m Reagan Esen Demir! I can be a woman. I’ve been doing it for a while now. I can be anything I want! I! Can! Be! A! Woman!”

Reagan pressed his hands to his feminine assets, pushing them together and lifting them up, taking stock of the blessings that had been thrust upon him.

“I can be a sexy woman.”

Reagan’s breath raced, his voice manic, as each word flowed quicker than the last. He pushed himself down the path he had been **** to walk. Always been good with the fairer sex, he only thought himself a ten out of ten due to his charisma, ignoring the negative points from his actual personality. For looks, he was maybe a six, just above average, with his well-groomed beard bringing him up to a seven.

Yet parading around in heels high enough that most women would only wear if somebody was getting married, or if somebody died, people literally stopped to check him out. At first it creeped him out, but they were looking at him and so many liked what they saw. The man was a sucker for admiration in all its forms. After that, he’d just tell himself, ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it.’

“I’m a woman, and I’m a goddamned ten.”

Saying those words didn’t magically make it true. It didn't make Reagan crave the life he felt he was **** into, but it did help inflate his wounded ego. Getting back to his feet, he retrieved a compact mirror from his purse. Taking a moment to touch up, he smiled at his reflection.

“Alright, girl, we need to get back out there…”

Referring to himself as a girl struck him as odd, but that was his new truth. He needed it to be true. He could no longer see a man in that mirror, but he did see a winner.

“Time to go make the fucking doughnuts.”

Stepping out, Reagan first saw Elias, and he let himself be wrapped in the man’s steady arms. In that safest of places, his mind began to calm, and the nervous energy rushing through his body subsided.

“Reah, are you okay? The door was locked. When you didn’t answer I tried calling your phone.”

Not leaving the man’s embrace, Reagan shook his head, before leaning back just enough to look Elias in the eye.

“I’m fine now, and you need to go find your sister. It’s time I made my acceptance speech.”

Minutes later, Reagan was up on the small wooden stage with a cheerful smile. On one side Elias held his hand up in the air, declaring victory, and on the other, his long-time friend stood, with her hands on her hips, reveling in the power she felt. There were many people that helped him gain this victory, some more instrumental than others, but the Arnoults were the linchpins in his success.

Eva did so with the craziest and most distasteful ideas he had ever heard. When she somehow talked him into it, she kept pushing and pushing till he got to the finish line. Her brother was only supposed to be a beard - a fake relationship. His pansexual nature sounded like bullshit initially, but after so many months together Reagan realized he was the same.

Reagan enjoyed his time with Elias more than any other part of his life, and he couldn’t deny the physical attraction anymore. Elias might have demanded sex as payment for his role, or so Reagan believed, but the way Reagan enjoyed it, it began to seem as though the beard was giving away his services for free. He felt like a whore sometimes, though no more so than he felt like one with Albert. As time passed though, Elias became his rock - someone he could share anything with. Both the Arnaults felt like family, and because of Elias’ campaign stunt, legally they would be once they decided on a date for the wedding.

Standing there, as balloons fell around him, and the cheering crowd echoed his joy, Reagan didn’t mind so much the life he’d been dealt.

‘Family, new family, friends, position and power.’ Reagan thought, looking out to everyone that believed in him - believed in her. He felt happier than he could ever remember. Cupping his hands, and shouting out to the crowd, and flashing bulbs of the press, he made a proclamation, believing every part of it.

“I’M REAH ESEN DEMIR AND I AM PROUD TO BE YOUR NEXT SENATOR FROM THE GREAT STATE OF FLORIDA!”