In The Campaign's Eye
As Amanda walks into the small, cramped bathroom, the musty smell seems to hang heavy in the air. Her blonde hair is tousled and messy, as she runs her hands through it in frustration. The light above the mirror flickers, casting a sickly glow over her face, highlighting the dark circles under her tired eyes and the lines etched on her forehead. Despite the weariness in her appearance, there is a determination in her jawline and the way she squares her shoulders, as if she is preparing for battle. With a deep breath, she splashes some cold water on her face, trying to clear her mind and focus on the tasks ahead. But as she stands there, staring at her tired reflection in the mirror, her thoughts keep returning to the question of how the Senator had found out about her involvement in the protests.
Has she slipped up, revealing more than she intended? Or has John uncovered her secrets through other means? The tension between Amanda and John has been simmering for months, but it is all part of a bigger plan. She works for the Senator, not because she shares his ambition for power, but because it gives her access to individuals who can help her further her own cause. The Senator reminds her of her father, but not in a good way. Her father was a mentor who taught her the importance of doing what's right and making a positive impact on the world. The Senator, on the other hand, is driven purely by a thirst for more power.
Stepping out into the hallway, the faint sound of footsteps behind her makes her pause, wondering if she is truly alone or if she is being followed. With a sense of unease, Amanda makes her way down the hallway, her mind racing with the possibilities. Amanda knows she can't afford to let her guard down. If anyone found out how much she helps the Truthers with the contacts she had made, the government would award her with a swift bullet to the forehead. She quickens her pace, and her mind flits back to the meeting with Mark at Center Park. Could he have betrayed her, told John about her involvement in the protests?
Protests. Sometimes it's hard to keep the meaning of words and reality correct in my own mind. We assaulted the city and conquered territory. The sweetness of truth can only be echoed in my own mind.
Although, she can't shake the feeling that something is off about the whole situation, that there's more at play than she realizes. As she makes her way to the campaign office, Amanda tries to push her doubts and fears aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. She has a job to do, and she can't afford to let her personal feelings get in the way.
As Amanda walks into the campaign office, the familiar smell of coffee and printer ink fills her nostrils. The room is bustling with activity, staffers rushing around and phones ringing off the hook. She makes her way to her desk, trying to blend in with the chaos and avoid drawing too much attention to herself. She lets out a sigh and leans back in her chair, trying to gather her thoughts and figure out a way forward.
As the day wears on, Amanda's thoughts drift back to her father, and a sense of anger and frustration wells up inside her. She remembers the way the system failed him. She doesn't want anyone else to suffer the same fate. When she visits her mother's house, she can't help but notice the chaos and disarray - dirty dishes piled up in the sink, clothes strewn about haphazardly. Her mother always seems to have a bottle of Quirosal nearby, and when they talk, Amanda can see the glint of RealityShift lenses hiding any emotion behind her mother's eyes. After The Upgrade, nothing was ever the same. One day, I’ll look into my mother’s eyes, tell her that I love her, and her eyes will tell me the same.
The sound of someone clearing their throat brings her back to reality. She turns to see one of her staffers standing in front of her, a stack of papers in hand.
"We need you to review and sign off on these documents before the end of the day," the staffer says, a hint of impatience in their voice.
Taking the papers and forcing a smile. "Of course," she says, trying to sound as confident as possible. "I'll get right on it."
She turns to her computer, she sees her tired, stressed face staring back at her from the reflection of the screen. She can't help but feel a sense of despair as she looks at her bloodshot eyes and pale, drained complexion. It feels as though she's aged ten years in the past few months. She lets out a sigh and runs a hand through her hair, trying to push away the negative thoughts. She has work to do and dwelling on her appearance isn't going to help her achieve her goals. With a sense of purpose, she turns her attention back to the computer and starts reviewing the documents in front of her.