Chapter 5: 5. Diana's Game

Selfish - Madison Beer

1:03 ──⚬──── 3:43

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The White House – Late Night Briefing Room

The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over the oval conference table, making the tension in the room even more suffocating. Kamala sits at the head of it, shoulders squared, hands folded neatly as her advisors talk in clipped, urgent voices.

"The media cycle is relentless," one of her communications aides is saying. "We’ve managed to steer focus toward policy discussions, but every time Reed makes a move, they drag her into it."

Kamala doesn’t need them to clarify who her is.

"And the photo from last night?"

An aide hesitates before sliding a folder across the table. Kamala exhales slowly before flipping it open. The image is a dagger to the gut: you, standing too close to Diana, your body language relaxed, her hand at the small of your back, her lips near your ear as if whispering something just for you. And then, the next page - a blurry picture of you two on the balcony.

It’s calculated. Every detail of it.

Kamala grips the edges of the folder, forcing herself to remain composed. "What’s the public sentiment?"

"Mixed," her press secretary answers. "Some see it as petty revenge. Others see it as a deliberate provocation. But the most damaging narrative? That you’re emotionally compromised."

Kamala tenses. "Explain."

The aide clears his throat. "Some think you’re distracted. That your judgment is slipping because of… personal conflicts."

She doesn’t react—doesn’t show a reaction, at least. She can't let herself seem to be conflicted. But inside, something cracks.

"Spin it," she orders. "This administration’s priorities remain unchanged. Make that clear."

"Understood, ma’am."

The meeting moves on, but Kamala isn’t listening anymore. Her focus remains on the image before her.

Her world is unraveling, and you’re at the center of the chaos. You always have been.

Your Apartment – Diana’s Game

You scroll through the headlines, a pit forming in your stomach. Every major outlet is dissecting last night’s events, analyzing the way Kamala looked at you, the way Diana kept you close.

"You’re thinking too much," Diana murmurs from the couch, a glass of wine in hand.

"And you’re thinking just enough for both of us," you counter, setting your phone down.

Diana smirks, tilting her head. "You’re still waiting for her to fight for you, aren’t you?"

Your silence is answer enough.

"She won’t," Diana continues, voice velvet-soft but sharp underneath. "Kamala Harris doesn’t fight battles she can’t control. And she cannot control you."

You swallow hard, staring at the city lights outside.

"You don’t have to play this game," you murmur.

"Oh, but I love this game," Diana replies, standing to join you at the window. Her fingers trail lightly along your arm. "And you? You love that it’s getting under her skin."

You turn to look at her, searching for something—genuine care, honesty, anything that isn’t just about sex and  political maneuvering. But Diana is impossible to read.

"I don’t know what I want anymore," you admit.

Diana smiles, leaning in as if to kiss you—but stops just shy of your lips. "Then let me decide for you."

And you let her. Which might be a mistake, but who knows.

Doug’s Warning

Doug finds you at a bookstore downtown, tucked into a quiet corner, browsing without real focus. You spent way too much time in that exact bookstore, so it was 50% chance he would habe found you there.

"I was hoping I’d find you here," he says, stepping into your space like he belongs there.

You sigh, setting down the book. "Here to lecture me?"

"No," he says simply. "I’m here because Kamala won’t be."

Your stomach twists. You liked that he was honest, but honesty hurt sometimes. "That’s not my problem."

Doug studies you, his gaze searching. "You don’t have to admit it or solve the problem. I just need you to listen."

You cross your arms. "Fine. Say what you came to say."

"Diana is dangerous."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Tell me something I don’t know."

Doug shakes his head. "You think you’re in control. You think this is just about revenge, or moving on, or whatever you’re telling yourself. But it’s not. Diana doesn’t just play to win—she plays to destroy. And she won't leave anything behind."

You stiffen, but Doug isn’t done.

"Kamala is crumbling under the weight of this, whether you see it or not."

You scoff. "She’s the most powerful person in the country. She’ll be fine."

Doug’s voice softens. "She’s not fine, and you know it."

Something inside you wavers, just for a second.

"You think I should just go back to her?" you ask, bitter. "Forget everything and live my life with someone who will never be able to have an official relationship with me? Doug you don't understand how that feels. I don't want to hide- to live in the shadows."

"I think you should ask yourself whether this—Diana—is worth the irreversible damage," Doug says simply.

Then he leaves, and you’re left alone with the weight of his words.

Kamala

The next time Kamala sees you, it isn’t at a planned event. It isn’t a calculated moment.

It’s at a charity function, crowded but intimate, and she spots you before you spot her. You’re with Diana—laughing, looking at ease, looking… happy.

Or at least trying hard enought to get the best out of the evening.

Kamala’s stomach twists, her breath catching in a way that shouldn’t happen. She’s the President of the United States. She’s built for control, for keeping emotions locked away. She shouldn't feel like this, she doesn't have the right to.

But then you look up. And your eyes meet hers. Once again.

For one painful, fragile second, everything else disappears.

She takes a step forward before she can stop herself. But before she reaches you, Diana slides a hand onto your waist, leaning in as if whispering something in your ear.

Kamala freezes.

And suddenly, she isn’t the most powerful woman in the room. She’s just someone who let the one thing that mattered slip through her fingers.

The crack in her facade spreads, too deep to ignore now.

And you see it & aren't so sure if you should be proud your winning this game or feel bad about it all.