Chapter Text
Sylvia looked down at Yor’s resume. “I see you’ve been with Mayor Barnes for the last two mayoral election periods.”
“Yes,” Yor said with a practiced smile. “I started working for the Mayor’s office as an intern during freshman year and met Barnes there during his first term. I graduated a few years later and, luckily for me, his old secretary decided to retire.”
At the time, it seemed lucky.
Sure, with her freshly printed Political Science degree, a secretary position hadn’t seemed like the natural next step, but Barnes had been in a tight spot. Sharon, his last secretary, had just left him high and dry in the middle of his first term. “No explanation,” Barnes had lamented to her back then.
She wondered what he was telling her replacement.
Was he promising her that the position would be temporary?
Did he promised upward mobility?
Was he telling some other straight-out-of-college girl that by the end of four years with him, when he’d be running a campaign for a second term, this time as governor, that he would want her by his side.
Would she say yes too?
Yor had said yes.
Six years ago.
Now she knew better.
Now, Yor smiled at Ms. Sylvia Sherwood regardless of how she was feeling.
Because she needed a job.
Any job.
Even if that meant working as an assistant when the rest of her classmates, who had made smarter choices out of college, were now campaign managers like Sylvia or even running for office themselves.
Bitterness was an acidic sour taste at the back of her throat, but Yor couldn’t dwell on that.
She had real responsibilities. She had real problems.
No amount of bitterness or hatred was going to save her from this.
Nothing was.
Not her parents.
Not her years of experience.
Not her brother.
Not Lawrence.
And certainly not Barnes.
She had to step up for herself and her family. Just like she always did.
And working here would be how she’d do it.
This wasn’t her dream role by any stretch of the imagination. She’d be taking a pay cut, a position cut, and she was sure Barnes would try and bury her once he found out who she was working for.
But it worked with her situation.
Immediate start.
Along with her other job, this would allow her to continue supporting Yuri through school and pay rent for the one-bedroom apartment she still needed to find.
And what really made this position stand out?
They hadn’t asked for a prior employer reference.
Which was, unfortunately, a necessity for her.
If Sylvia tried to speak with Barnes…
“You think you’re so fucking smart?! You’ll be flipping burgers before you work in politics ever again, you frigid bitch. Trust me. ”
The last thing that Yor needed was for Ms.Sherwood to take any interest in her time with Mayor Barnes. It was bad enough Barnes was running against the man she was hoping would hire her as his campaign assistant.
He’d call her a turncoat if he knew I was even sitting here, Yor thought. Or, knowing what kind of coward he is, he’d probably say a lot worse…
Somehow that just made her want the job even more.
Sylvia flipped the page. “And you’re aware that Mr. Forger has different requirements for his assistant than what Mayor Barnes would have had for you as a secretary?” The red-haired woman didn’t look up from the resume in her hands. She hadn’t looked up much at all during this interview. In fact, if Yor hadn’t been the only other person in the room she may have wondered if Sylvia was even talking to her. “Afterall, Mr. Forger has very little experience in politics and has only privately announced his bid for governor. Much of our work for the campaign is just starting in earnest now. Things are very busy. Much busier than in the office of a sitting mayor. And things will be very busy for at least the next ten months.”
Until the election.
September 10th.
Barnes had drilled that date into the head of everyone on his staff. The day he hoped to finally make his debut in state-level politics.
Yor nodded.
“I understand.”
“And you understand you’ll be taking a pay cut if we hire you? We don’t currently have access to the same level of funding as Barnes. Fundraising has been… slow.”
She wasn’t even being paid what she was worth when she was with Barnes. A pay cut would make things hard. Harder than they already were.
But she did understand.
She was asking to join the underdogs. That came with some concessions.
A couple of thousand dalc worth of concessions.
She understood.
She did.
And, hell, even if she didn’t it wasn’t like she had much of a choice.
Joining Loid Forger’s campaign as his campaign assistant was not where Yor would have imagined herself a year ago. Six months ago, even. And a pay cut?
Yor had been promised career advancement.
Barnes had been flirting around promoting her to a political consultant. All she had to do was be patient.
Be loyal, Yor. Be loyal and I’ll take care of you.
And she had.
She had been loyal to Mayor Barnes. She had done her best for him. Working weekends and overtime and doing things outside her job description. Cancelling plans and dates. Missing milestones and birthdays. Doing things for Barnes outside of her job description. Things that weren’t necessarily legal and didn’t always feel good but that Barnes had asked her to do. Bribe reporters, conceal documents, and lie to whoever he needed her to lie to. She’d done it all. She’d given him her whole life. And she’d done it happily because once upon a time, she convinced herself that regardless of the morally grey things he asked her to do, Mayor Edmund Barnes was a good man. A fair man. That working with him would be worth it, that he cared about and valued her opinion.
Now she knew that was bullshit.
He didn’t care about anyone other than himself.
C’mon, Yor. You can’t be serious. A pretty thing like you has no place in politics. Maybe we can find… a more suitable position for you. A more personal one.
And he definitely didn’t respect anything about her.
Sylvia didn’t seem to notice how Yor’s mind wandered. Instead, she continued, unhindered, flipping pages and skimming through Yor’s experience like she’d seen it all before. “Your workload will be much heavier with us here than it was with Barnes.” Perhaps, she had. “We’re a small team compared to what you’d find with other campaigns.” Sylvia sighed. “Most campaigns have a staff of, at least, thirty-plus people. Several campaign managers, political consultants, general consultants, fundraising consultants, media consultants, communications directors, field staff, and financial staff. Social media staff. Speech writers. Hell, most campaigns have more than one assistant. We don’t. We won’t.”
Sylvia finally looked up at her, blue eyes the same color as the spring sky outside. She looked tired and annoyed. Not at Yor but at… well, at everything. Her mouth was pulled taut in a line and there was tension in her neck. “It can make things difficult and the hours long. But Lo–Mr. Forger prefers it this way. He claims smaller teams have a certain intimacy to them that gets lost in larger political machines. But at the end of the day, what that really means for us is that we all have a lot more on our plates than any other candidate’s team and there isn’t any hope of it lessening until election day in ten months. And that’s only if he wins.”
If he wins.
To Yor, there was no if.
Mr. Loid Forger was the only other candidate running for governor of Berlint.
Mr. Forger had to win.
He had to.
Barnes couldn’t just ruin her life — her career, her self-respect, her faith in her own decisions — and get everything he wanted. He couldn’t have unilateral power to make the rules and regulations that she and her brother would have to live by. He couldn’t treat people the way he did and win. He couldn’t.
Barnes had to lose.
If Barnes won…
If he was elected governor…
Fuck.
It wasn’t right.
It wouldn’t be fair.
All this time Yor had been on the winning side and what the hell did she have to show for it?
What had she gotten for all her trouble? A measly four hundred dalc of hush money and an old contract she’d signed when she was twenty-two that meant she had to shut the hell up even though that asshole had ruined her life? Even though he tried to—
Fuck. That.
Fuck him.
Loid Forger had to win.
She shoved down her anger and spoke calmly. “I understand, Miss Sherwood.”
No need to take out her frustrations on Sylvia.
It wasn’t her fault that Yor had given the last six years of her professional life to a man who turned out to be every bit as egotistical, misogynistic, and backward as the press she’d been assigned to “deal with” had said he was.
God, she’d been such an idiot.
It was embarrassing how she convinced herself that Mayor Barnes was the good guy, that she was on the right side, even as people whispered about him in the corridors.
Idiot.
But she couldn’t dwell on that.
Not now.
Not when she needed to impress Sylvia.
Not when she needed this job.
Sylvia cocked her head, sizing Yor up. “You’ll be the only assistant on staff.” She further emphasized, “That means you’ll be in charge of scheduling press along with the communications team, the bulk of the administrative work will fall to you, and even though on paper you’re Mr. Forger’s assistant — in practice, you’ll be everyone’s assistant. We won’t be hiring anyone to help you out. ”
Yor blinked.
Well…
The situation with Mr. Forger’s staff seemed more disastrous than she’d thought. Mayor Barnes had been bad-mouthing the thirty-six-year-old hopeful ever since he’d put forward the preliminary paperwork announcing his intent to run. Handsome young man, he’d said. But good looks don’t win elections. People win elections. Money wins elections. Fear wins elections.
If he really didn’t have the staff he needed to back him…?
Even if it was on purpose…
There was no way he’d beat Barnes.
Shit.
And if he lost this election round, she’d find herself right back here—unemployed and desperate.
Shit, shit. Shit.
Was this a bad idea?
Would it be better to find work somewhere else?
To back someone else?
But no one else was running for governor. And trying to find work on any of the preexisting presidential campaigns would be a pipe dream.
Sylvia broke her out of her thoughts. “It says here that you majored in political science?” she asked.
Yor nodded. “Yes.” It felt like decades since she’d graduated. Things were different back then. She had believed that she could actually make a difference. If she just met the right candidate. If she backed the right person. If she just worked hard enough. “Politics has always been an interest of mine.”
“And yet you were Barnes’ personal secretary ?” Personal secretary. Yor almost cringed. If she had only known what Barnes had in mind for her when she’d signed on for that… If only she hadn’t been so naive... “Is there a reason you never participated in the political side of Barnes team?” She flipped back to the beginning of the resume where Yor had written with pride ‘Political Science with a minor in Global Justice.’ “I mean… Given your educational background…”
… I should have been promoted or at least been given campaign or local legislation duties, right?
…I should be working on the Barnes campaign right now, right?
You’d think so, wouldn’t you?
She was speaking before she even had the chance to consider the ramifications of the truth. “It was always the plan. Barnes promised I’d be part of the political team once I proved myself….” Red flashed. A stray hand resting too low on her back. The sound of wine being poured into two glasses. You know, Yor. This field is one big game. Give and take. Push and pull. You scratch my back and, hey, I’ll gladly scratch yours. Yor took a deep breath, banishing those memories. They wouldn’t help anything now. “But things always came up.”
A flash of something crossed Sylvia’s face, gone too quickly for Yor to grasp. “A familiar story.” Her tone was suddenly gentle, and understanding. “Do you still have an interest in politics?”
Politics.
Politics had never been kind to her.
But–
“Yes.” Yor exhaled. “I do.”
“Good.” The ghost of a smile graced Sylvia’s lips. Just for a moment. “And what’s your primary interest?”
“Excuse me?”
Sylvia put the resume down and crossed her arms over her chest. “Everyone has one, right?” She said, “You don’t just develop an interest in politics for politics' sake. All of us who are in this are here because we’re hoping to change something or fix something.” Her eyes were focused on Yor’s face. Searching for something. Something that Yor wasn’t sure she wanted Sylvia to find.“More than some kind of abstract sense of loyalty to a particular political party or even to a country… What really gets people involved in politics is their agenda. Personal agenda. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Something we want, need, or care about immensely. Something that moves us. We all have something.” Sylvia gave her a pointed look. “What’s your thing? What are you trying to fix?”
An agenda?
Her personal agenda?
It had been months since she’d thought about it. Months since her own personal desires were something other than a thought she conjured up with closed eyes to lull her to sleep. And it had been even longer since someone cared enough to ask.
What was she trying to fix?
What did she want to accomplish?
All she wanted was—
“Ostanian whore! I should have thrown your application in the fucking trash! Should have known better than to hire one of you fucking animals! Fucking bitch! We should have put you all down when we had the fucking chance!”
What she wanted to fix…
She took a deep breath. “This isn’t in my file but…I’m originally from Ostania.” Yor paused for a moment, allowing for a reaction.
There always was one. When she was younger the kids in her class had looked at her with a strange mixture of confusion and fear. The Ostania they knew was filled with ruthless savages, people with no hearts. Their parents were quick to chastise their children for any rude comments. They looked at her with pity.
Everyone had a reaction. But now…
Sylvia’s face remained unchanged.
Yor continued, “I lost my parents during the tail end of the war and settled in Westalias as a refugee with my younger brother. And…” Why was this still so hard to talk about? “ I didn’t see much of the fighting or—what I did see of the war was horrible. Even here in Westalias… when we got here this country was just as broken by what happened as Ostania still is and I…” I can’t live through that again. No one should have to. “I just want to make sure nothing like that will ever happen again.”
For a long moment, neither one of them said anything. Sylvia just looked at her, the same blank expression on her face, and Yor tried her best not to look away. Then, finally, Sylvia nodded, as though they’d been engaged in a conversation Yor just wasn’t privy to and an agreement had finally been reached.
“That’s a tall order for a potential governor,” Sylvia said. “Shouldn't you be aiming to get the ear of someone more established? A senator, perhaps? Or the president?”
“You said it yourself,” Yor started. Part of her couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with someone she was hoping would be her new boss. The other part of her wondered why she hadn’t been having conversations like this for the last six years. How much of my life did I waste with Barnes? “Politics is all about agendas. Someone more established has already made up their mind. And they have more to lose. They aren’t open to hearing new ideas or perspectives. Even if they claim to be…” Even if they promise you over and over again. “ And I can’t do anything about it myself… I forfeited my Ostanian citizenship once we settled here but since I wasn’t actually born here–”
Sylvia cut her off. “You could never run for public office yourself.” She nodded again.“An asinine rule when you consider that hundreds of thousands of people just like you have spent most of their lives on Westalis soil. You can vote as residents but the natural-born citizen clause must feel like a slap on the face. Especially for someone who cares.”
Yor blinked.
That was…
Yes.
Precisely.
This was a strange feeling.
To feel so…
She felt like she had an ally in Sylvia. It made her want to tell her more, to see what she, an older woman who was much more established in politics than she was, could teach her. She wanted to pick her brain. But…she couldn’t be sure.
She’d trusted Barnes, too.
Sylvia may just be trying to goad her into saying something that would disqualify her from this position. Or, even more likely, be testing her.
This was, afterall, an interview.
She didn’t have the job yet.
She needed the job.
And rambling on about policy and laws like she’d been known to do would do very little to ensure she’d get it.
She needed to change the subject. Something less inflammatory, less controversial, less—
“I’ve always wanted to help someone else who gets it, you know? Someone… someone else who cares.” But she just couldn’t help herself. She just couldn’t. Six years was a long time to just sit back on her dreams for the sake of someone else's. It was a long time to hold onto empty promises and put up with bullshit in the name of a man who never had any intention of helping her grow. Fuck. She had a lot to say. “I know it’s a crazy dream but I thought if I aligned myself—or, proved myself—with someone who’d be open to hearing me out… that something could be done…”
A gentle thud sounded as Sylvia suddenly put her file down on the table, silencing the room. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Forger is always open to listening. It can be a hindrance to the schedule but… at the very least you may find comfort in the fact that he is nothing like Barnes.” She gave Yor a searching look. “That is if this job doesn’t burn you out in other ways.”
“I’m sure that won’t—“
“Oh, it will. This is politics, Ms. Briar. It will exhaust you. Expect that.” Sylvia interrupted. “But it’ll also expose you to more than you seem to have seen with Barnes. You’ll meet people who actually want to listen to their constituents, who want to fix things. And although the job title may seem below your education level, you’ll be a key part of pretty much every detail of this campaign. You’ll work with every department. Communications. Politics. Finance. Legal. Tech. Scheduling. Even the Field department if you’re up to it.”
She shouldn’t get her hopes up.
She shouldn’t.
This was just an interview. And just like she was doing her best to impress Sylvia, the lead campaign manager needed to impress her too. This was the sales pitch. She’d heard a similar one when she started working for Barnes… she shouldn’t get her hopes up.
But despite herself, Yor smiled.
“I’d like that.”
“Yes, well.” Sylvia stood up abruptly and Yor stumbled slightly as she pushed out from her own seat. The older woman held out her hand. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Briar.” Yor shook it. “I will further review your resume and discuss the results of the interview process with our Information Specialist, Mr. Franklin, and Mr. Forger. We’ll be in contact sometime in the next few days with our final decision. We have the correct number for you on file?”
Sylvia pulled her hand away first.
Yor cleared her throat, dropping her hand awkwardly to her side. “Yes, you should.”
“Do you have a preferred time for a call?”
She did.
She’d be busy most nights.
“No,” she said. “Anytime works for me.”
Sylvia nodded again. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you for your time, Miss Sherwood.” Yor turned to leave, pushing her chair in. Her black heels clicked loudly against the wooden floor. She reached for the doorknob — “I really appreciate the opportunity.” She found herself saying. Her reflection in the bronzed knob was skewed and distorted but there was something there in her face that she hadn’t seen in a while—desire. She wanted this. She didn’t just need this job like she’d thought when she sent in her application. She didn’t want to just come to work and keep her head down and collect her check — she wanted a purpose. She always had. And this job… everything that Sylvia said… Yor believed her.
She wanted this job. Enough to break a cardinal rule.
Don’t seem too eager.
“I really want this job,” she said, truthfully. “I… I just really want the chance to try.”
She turned the knob and opened the door.
“Miss Briar?” Sylvia’s voice stopped her once again. “About your dream? It’s not crazy. In fact, Mr. Forger is personally very passionate about improving Ostanian-Westalian relations.” Yor turned to look at the campaign manager but she still wore that same expressionless face. Now, she wasn’t even looking at her. Sylvia was reading through the file for the next applicant. “Regardless of this decision, I am sure he would love to hear your ideas.”
“T-thank you.”
“Oh. And Miss Briar?”
“Yes?”
“Could you please send the next applicant in on your way out?”