Love It If We Made It
“Truth is only hearsay
We’re just left to decay,
Modernity has failed us.”
-- “Love It If We Made It” by the 1975
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Alex
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Eventually, the tremors begin to settle and the flood lights flicker on.
“What the hell?” Alex mutters under his breath. Another explosion sounds off in the distance. He realizes that Henry’s arms are wrapped tightly around his waist. The sound of screaming comes flooding in from outside the room. “Are you alright?” he hears the panic in Henry\s voice but he’s too shaken to form a response. Henry pushes up on his arms, and the weight of his body shifts so that he’s practically straddling him, “Alex?” Henry’s eyes search his. Alex tries to make a list.
One. Henry –
But before he can make sense of things, Amy is clamoring into the room with a group of Henry’s PPOs following quickly behind her. If any PPOs or Secret Service agents register Alex and Henry’s tangled limbs, they certainly don’t mention it. He’s relieved and horrified all at once. What the hell is going on?
“Your Royal Highness, we need to get you to safety.” It’s not Amy who speaks, but her eyes meet Alex’s hysterical expression all the same.
Before they can protest, they find themselves being hauled up off the floor. They follow closely behind the agents through a corridor. The screaming decreases in one direction as it swells from another. Explosions continue to go off in the distance.
They’re practically running now and Alex almost trips over his own feet. At the sound of a loud boom overhead, one of the Secret Service agents, Cash, covers Alex to protect him from the falling debris.
“Cash? What the fuck is going on?” Alex asks, making no attempt to mask his hysteria.
Instead of answering, Cash broadcasts an update into his wristwatch, “Barracuda and Bishop are secure, moving to the PEOC.”
The PEOC .
Alex was used to hearing his secret service name, and if he had time to reflect on it, he’d ask Henry why he goes by “Bishop.” Instead, Alex thinks about how they’re heading to the Presidential Emergency Operations Center (or the PEOC), and how that can’t be a good thing. He knew from some boring security training videos he’d been forced to sit through, that the PEOC was an underground bunker in the White House. There were several safety zones for emergencies in the White House, but the PEOC was meant for high-level security threats and was the specified location of the First Family and a few hand-selected staff and aids.
When he first moved into the White House, watching those security training videos was one of those surreal moments as the first son of the President of the United States that made him feel exactly like some anonymous kid who had been flung into a high-stakes political stage. But he never thought he’d find himself here—not really. His mind quickly tried to reconcile all the information coming at him.
One. The Secret Service is here, so they’ll be okay.
Two. They’re heading to the PEOC. Which, is not great. But they’ll be safe there.
Won’t they?
…
When they finally reach the PEOC, they are led to a secure room within the bunker. The space is dark and cramped. There are seemingly random pieces of furniture disturbed throughout: a small table and set of chairs at the center of the room with a loveseat against a shelf opposite a large TV, which now flickered a news banner broadcasting a repeated message: “WARNING: THERE IS A THREAT TO THE AREA. PLEASE TAKE SHELTER. WARNING…”
Floodlights in fluorescent hues hang overhead. There are no windows, only dark walls. There is only one door leading to the external portion of the bunker, which is currently guarded by security personnel. It is just him and Henry in a suffocating room. Alex has a million questions swirling in his brain. Despite their situation, most of them gravitate towards Henry.
Why’d you leave?
Why haven’t you been answering my texts?
What the hell?
But he couldn’t ask any of those questions. As much as he’d love to, he couldn’t just grab him by the collar and demand answers. He couldn’t let the torrent of emotions in his chest spill out. So instead, he found himself pacing the room, trying frantically to make a list.
Three. Three. Three –
But nothing comes. He closes his eyes, blinking away tears.
His gaze lifts to Henry, sitting quietly at the table playing frantically with his signet ring, eyebrows scrunched up as he bites on the inside of his cheek. He feels his heart pound loudly in his chest, but despite his desire to shake loose answers to his burning questions from Henry, the urgency begins to dissipate as he realizes he’s impossibly weak for Henry.
And suddenly, more than anything, he wants to comfort him. He wants to reach out and squeeze his hand or hold his face in his palms. Hell, he wouldn’t mind a little comfort, either. He can imagine himself burying his face in Henry’s shoulder - but he can’t let his thoughts drift there, not right now.
Instead, he falls against the wall and slides down onto the floor, his head falling into his hands.
Time seems to pass by without any trace. He isn’t sure how long he sits there, crumbed up against the wall with his head in his hands. All he knows is that there’s an instant relief when the door swings open and he sees June and Nora rushing into the room. He jumps up to his feet and his voice catches in his throat.
“Alex!” June practically flies over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He feels tears trailing down his cheeks, and he can’t tell - nor does he care - if the tears are his own or if they belong to his sister.
They eventually pull away and June’s eyes briefly land on Henry, who is now hesitantly standing behind them, barely able to conceal his worry. Her eyes fixed back on Alex with a faint question buried beneath all the other emotions she was trying so hard to contain. Alex knows his sister; she’s drawing conclusions and making adjustments in her head. And he suddenly regrets not telling her about Henry. About his not-so-minor bisexual freak out. He really should have fucking told June but now is not the time.
“June? What the hell is going on?” he says instead, “They’re not telling us anything.”
“Alex. It was, they were…” June’s hands shake as she holds onto her brother like an anchor. Her voice is catching in hurried breaths, her eyes darting nervously. It’s a look that Alex has only ever seen reflected in her eyes when she’s looking at him in the middle of a panic attack.
“June…breathe…” he echoes the words she’s told him so many times over the years. He gently guides her to the loveseat and talks her through some grounding exercises until she can catch steady breaths.
“They were... the staff –” she closes her eyes and steadies her breathing.
“Take your time, bug.” Alex tries.
“They were clearing the dinner plates, and the dessert wine had just been served, … and we were…we were all about to get up and – and, … shit!” June shakes her head as if to rid herself of the memory. “Alex, I don’t know how to say fucking say this.” Her voice is strained, practically breaking at each word.
“June, you’re freaking me the fuck out,” Alex says softly but urgently.
“The sky caught fire, Alex!” June blurts out hysterically.
Alex flinches back, blinking in disbelief. His mouth is ajar, and he can feel the breath leave his body. Tension hangs in the room.
“The sky, …what?” Alex says with trepidation.
He looks over to Nora, hoping for some level-headed confirmation. Any kind of information to assure him that what he’s hearing is some fucked up joke. Nora simply shakes her head, like she’s trying to chase away the reality of their situation.
“The world is imploding in on itself, Alex.” Nora’s eyes fall downward, and he sees something in her he rarely ever sees: uncertainty.
“They’re saying it started earlier today,” Nora continues, “and it’s making its way over to the East – somehow it’s not being intercepted or picked up on any significant international level.” She takes a deep breath, steadying herself before continuing.
“The only reason we’re even aware that something is going on is because the most recent explosion sent a ripple into our atmosphere.” Nora spits out, fisting her hands to her sides. Alex wonders how long it took Nora to piece together all the information she probably somehow managed to hack from some intelligence system. They’ve always joked that she’s something of a human computer. But this time, he can’t help but notice the gap in knowledge that she is struggling with.
“Alex,” June picks up once Nora has finished her explanation. “It’s … bad. Earthquakes are spreading all over the city; the sky looks like someone cut into it with a blow torch! And they’re saying this is just the aftershocks from what’s happening in Europe right now –” June cut herself off with a gasp at her own words.
Europe. Fuck .
Alex takes a sharp turn to look back at Henry and sees all the color drained from his face.
“H-Henry…” Alex tries but has nothing to offer.
Henry nods silently in their direction, nervously wiping his hands down the front of his jacket, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to step outside.”
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Henry
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Henry steps out of the room and closes the door, leaning against it and letting out an exasperated breath. He pinches his fingers at the bridge of his nose. There’s too much going on for him to make sense of, but he’s determined to gather himself long enough to try and get in touch with his sister, Bea.
He wills himself into the situation room, where various PPOs, Secret Service Agents, and other staff members scramble in a million different directions. Shaan, Henry’s equerry, notices him stepping into the room and rushes towards him.
“Your Royal Highness, I am afraid I must advise that you remain in the safe room with –”
“Shaan, I need my phone. I need to call Bea.” They share a silent stare for a moment that is measured in seconds but feels like a painful eternity. “I need to know, Shaan,” Henry says with a whispered strain.
Shaan stares at him for another moment before reaching into his pocket and handing Henry his phone without another word.
Henry nods and steps aside into a mostly unoccupied corner in between the safe room and the strategy zone. He presses the call button on Bea’s contact.
It rings.
And rings.
And rings.
His heartbeat hammers in his chest.
Pa-dum.
Pa-dum.
Pa-dum.
He goes to call a fourth time but this time the line does not connect. His heart drops into his stomach as he continues to press the call button, but it does not connect. His bottom lip begins to tremble, and he fights to retain a semblance of composure, when suddenly –
Brrring!
His phone vibrates in his hand. He rushes to accept the call,
“Henry!” the voice cuts in, full of static.
“Pez,” Henry swallows. “Where are you? Did you make it to Brazil? Are you okay?”
“Henry, I don’t have a lot of time – It’s truly a wonder …my security detail sooner,” static cuts in interrupting the flow of Pez’s words, “... so difficult to have a plan for the end of the world –”
“Pez, what do you know? Wh-- are you safe?” He can feel tears beginning to gather around his eyes. Pez lets out a long, careful sigh. “Henry, listen.” His voice sounds distant but determined “All I know is that whatever is causing this - thing! - to happen, it’s blocking the main broadcast channels -- It’s why we don’t know that something is happening until it happens.”
“So, an explosion has occurred where you are? In Brazil?” Henry says, trying to piece the strands of information together.
“No, no. Not here. Not yet. But I had my cousin, Maurice, on the line just a minute ago. He’s in New York City and he told me what was happening in the Northeast.”
“Pez.” Henry tries to sound steady, “What do we know? How quickly is this spreading?”
“… never gave my scarf back…that Maurice!” Pez’s voice says gathering static all around it.
“Pez! Can you hear me?” Henry begs. He looks at the phone in his palm as if it has suddenly become a foreign object.
“Whatever this is,” Pez cuts back in, “it isn’t blocking social media channels... saw Hailey Bieber go live, …she’s in LA, of course… didn’t account for that – whoever they are.”
“They? You’re making it sound like… like-” Henry tries to form the words against his disbelief, doubt pulsing in his veins.
“Bloody hell, this is insane.” Pez chuckles, but there’s a sadness etched in. “I don’t have all the details, Hazza, but – the way these attacks are concentrated on specific areas… the way it’s moving, the force behind it…” static rushes in, “…we can’t track it… there’s no way that any government on this planet could orchestrate it.”
Henry’s mind races to gather as much as he can despite his sudden need to collapse onto the floor and scream. “Pez, June said that what we’re seeing here is just aftershocks from whatever was happening in Europe. Do you know if…” he takes a steadying breath, “have you heard from anyone else in Europe?” Henry forces himself to ask.
“My nan's line is dead. I tried looking for footage… nothing seems to be coming through except on this odd website…”
“Christ, Pez! Do you know what’s going on?”
“Henry,” Pez begins, “It’s all gone.” Henry felt his face break out in a cold sweat. No, no, no, no, no.
The air is taken right out of Henry’s lungs, and he feels his knees go weak. “Gone?” he whispers back in disbelief. H-how?” Pez doesn’t answer, but he cuts back in with urgency, “Christ, where are you, Henry?”
“I’m… in Washington D.C. More specifically, I’m with the Claremont-Diaz siblings and Nora Holleran in the White House bunker.”
“Oh, you are a bloody romantic.” Pez lets out a wordless sigh. Henry ignores his best friend's foolishness. “Pez, are you safe? Please tell me–”
“Henry, listen. I don’t think we will survive this.” The call begins to let in more static. “I don’t know what I even mean when I say this...”
“Pez –”
“Henry, listen to me – “his voice strains, “if there was ever a time to put yourself first, I think this is it. Don’t go quietly. Be the dramatic queen you were born to be!” Henry lets out a wet laugh. “I’m afraid the dramatic queen bit is far more your speed, Pez.”
“It is, isn’t it?” He chuckles, and more static begins to pour in. “A shame I wasn’t in line… the throne…. you are…. bloody Pip…”
“Pez - you’re cutting out!” Henry’s voice rises despite himself.
“...love y,...ry.” and before Henry knows it, all the words between them fade into an endless loop of static.
…
Henry takes a moment to gather himself. When he finally wills himself to walk back into the safe room, his eyes immediately fix on Alex. He sees the distinct look of dread, the way worry is etched into the lines of Alex’s forehead. His face seems to ask a million questions all at once, and despite the grief he feels surfacing quietly beneath his skin, Henry has never wanted to set it aside and give reassurance to someone more.
Alex stares at Henry expectantly while June and Nora politely fix their attention on a tablet. He faintly notices the loop of clips showing the sky ablaze.
“I, uh, “Henry begins, pulling attention from June and Nora. “I just spoke to Pez.”
“Is he okay, Henry? Did you hear from your family?” June asks.
“We were only able to speak briefly, I’m afraid. But he did tell me that he believes the attacks to be a carefully orchestrated, global event.” Henry takes a breath, “The source is unknown, but it seems to be moving … rather supernaturally.”
“Unknown? Supernatural? Henry, what the fuck?” Alex looks incredulous, but June chimes in to try and land a softer query, “What are you saying, Henry?”
“Is this some kind of - what? Alien invasion? Is that what you’re telling us, Henry?” Alex storms back with anxious questions.
“It doesn’t matter what it is, it’s destroying everything in its path,” Henry says with a sharper tone than he means to. “But Nora was right - it’s being intercepted somehow, which is why we weren’t aware until moments ago.” His eyes fixed on the tablet on the table. He pinches the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to wake up from this nightmare.
“So, these videos… the posts people are sharing from Europe…” June begins, hesitantly.
“It’s the last we’ll ever see of Europe, I’m afraid.” Henry’s lips are quivering, and he can’t hold back the emotion. He twists the ring on his pinky ferociously. Red circles burn into his skin from the metal of his ring.
“Well, what the fuck are we going to do?” Alex’s voice cuts in with outrage. Henry can’t help how fond it suddenly makes him feel. Of course, amid the most hopeless situation, Alex’s stubbornness would find a way to believe that there’s anything to be done. But before Henry can let his thoughts wander off, an unexpected voice cuts into the room.
“The only thing you’ll be doing, sugar –” and all their heads turn around to meet the sound of firm authority, “the only thing any of you will be doing, is getting the hell out of dodge.”
Madam President: Ellen Claremont.
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Alex
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“Ma?” Alex’s voice is soft and strained like it’s the last drip of emotion left in his body. He suspects that it very likely is. “I’m sorry to keep you all waiting, but as you can imagine, this has been something of a nightmare scenario,” she responds quickly.
“Ma –” Alex tries.
“We’ve got a plane fueled and ready for you to get to safety immediately.”
“Mom!” June tries this time. “What is happening?” It feels like the millionth time this question has been asked out loud, and they’re still no closer to really understanding.
“Zahara has prepared some instructions that will be debriefed with you on the plane–”
“Plane to where?!” Alex is frantic now.
“You’re goin’ to Texas, you’ll be debriefed–”
“Mom, we can't just go – the sky is on fire. And we gotta do something–” Alex declares.
“And just what the fresh hell do you think you can do, Alex? You have no idea what we’re up against.”
“I would if anyone would just tell us! We’re not just normal civilians – and something must be done!”
“Baby, listen to me very carefully. You won’t survive here.”, Ellen’s eyes look stern as she looks from Alex to the others in the room.
“No one will. The attack has not made its way to the west or the south, but it’s only a matter of time You, your sister, and Nora need to get to safety immediately.” Alex very pointedly realizes that his mom did not mention Henry, and that’s when he notices the Prime Minister standing next to his mom as if waiting for her turn to give Henry instructions about what or where he’s going. Fuck fuck fuck .
He can’t believe that amid everything he’s now worrying that he and Henry will have to be parted. And for how long? The way things are going, he’ll never see Henry again. He just wanted a freaking kiss and to shake Henry’s shoulders and pull his face towards him. How is this happening?
“Nora. Numbers on us surviving this batshit disaster?”
“88 percent chance we don’t make it through the night”
“See? It’s not 100 perce–”
“100 percent chance we don’t make it to the end of the week.”
Alex swallows but doesn’t relent. He tangles his fingers through his hair and paces the room. “There’s gotta be something we can do.”
“There isn’t,” Ellen says firmly. “We can’t just give up!” Alex tries to reason. Why is he always going out swinging? “Alex. This isn’t something you survive. You can’t debate your way out of this.” Ellen says with firm and final kindness. “You’re getting on that plane, and you’ll be debriefed on the way to Texas. It leaves in three minutes.”
How did no one stop this? How did no one know? Alex’s brain is scrambling at a million miles a minute. “Ma? You’re not…?” Alex begins but he knows the answer before he can finish his question. His mom is not going with them to Texas. He will never see his mother again.
Her eyes offer a small moment of regret and apology, but she pulls her shoulders back and looks her children in the eye one final time. “I’ll do my best to meet you there.” Her eyes scan the room. “The Prime Minister and the royal staff will debrief Henry on the instructions per the Palace.” With that, she turns on her heel and stomps out of the room, the sound of her Louis Vuitton’s clicking on the tile floor.
Alex’s mind is working overtime, and he strains to make a list.
- Fuck fuck fuck.
Okay, so apparently, we’re going to Texas without Mom. Without dad? Shit. Why hadn’t he thought about his dad?
There’s no choice though, what else can we do? Where else can we go?
But as he’s trying to make sense of all the unfavorable factors flying towards him at lightning speed, his eye catches on what looks like the head PPO of Henry’s team stepping forward. The PPO bows before addressing Henry.
“Your Royal Highness: Her Majesty, the Queen, has requested your immediate return. Confidential emergency plans are in place for the royal family’s safety; you’ll be debriefed on the plane –”
“I’m sorry - the plane?” Alex’s high-pitched voice cuts in, “The plane that’s taking off in the exact direction where things are chicken-little-sky-is-falling-level-apocalypsing?” Henry’s eyes are blown wide open as he weighs the report from the head PPO against Alex’s defiant tone. His mouth closes abruptly in a thin line.
“Mr. Claremont-Diaz, this is not a matter of discussion –” the PPO begins before being cut off again. “No shit it isn’t!” Alex’s voice is breaking now. “Henry’s not getting on a plane in the direction of where the sky is on literal fucking fire! Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“Alex!” June stammers.
He is aware that he’s being too revealing in his declaration but given that everything is going to be literal shit he can’t push back his feelings of protection and resolve. He can’t lose Henry again when he just got him back - never mind that he’s losing everything in one quick, horrifying moment. It’s suddenly too much.
“Her Majesty’s orders –” Shaan attempts. “Are you guys listening to yourself right now? Are you insane? Is the Queen fucking insane?!” Ignoring Alex, the PPO turns to Henry, “Your Royal Highness, the plane is ready for take-off, if you’ll follow –”
“No.” Henry’s response is quiet, but firm. The room goes silent, and all eyes are fixed on the prince.
“No, I’m afraid I won’t be returning. Frankly, I don’t see what good I can be to the crown given that the likelihood of my making it back before it all goes to hell, is rather, grim.”
This time, the Prime Minister attempts to reason with the prince. “Forgive me, your Royal Highness, these are unprecedented circumstances. We do not know the exact location we are being summoned to, but it is pertinent –”
“Prime Minister, I understand that you, as well as the royal staff, must depart,” Henry turns to look at the PPO and staff before continuing, “and I understand that this puts your positions in jeopardy. I hope you also understand, as I am coming to, that there is little time before us. Suddenly, I realize I do not wish to spend the remainder of my time adhering to Her Majesty’s requests.”
Alex’s mouth is agape as he listens to Henry address his staff with royal dignity and calm. He can’t help but marvel at how brave he is. It says a lot about how much Henry’s had to endure that at the end of everything he’s maintaining composure when it would be perfectly reasonable for him to fall apart.
“Once you’ve touched the ground,” Henry continues, “you are released from the service of the crown if you so wish.” He pulls a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and scribbles a note onto it - handing it to the head PPO. “Please present this as a gesture of goodwill, should anyone question your leaving me behind.”
The PPOs share a stunned expression, but they don’t fight back. It’s another reminder of just how bad the situation is. Shaan is the only one who budges slightly. “Your royal highness, please forgive me - but I will not be joining in the return journey, either.”
“Shaan, you don’t have to follow me–”
“It’s been the honor of my life to serve the crown, to serve His Royal Highness.” Shaan continues. “But I will be staying here, in DC. I have a personal matter to attend to.”
“Very well, of course.” Henry’s eyes glisten, holding back tears. “Thank you. For everything.”
Shaan, seemingly unable to hide his emotion, lets a single tear fall to his cheek before he turns on his heels and swiftly exits, not looking back.
After an eternity of stretched-out silence, Henry turns around to meet Alex’s gaze, his shoulders slump just an inch - giving away his failing confidence. “I’ve…never been to Texas.” His eyes search for confirmation of something still left unspoken.
Alex's eyes go soft, and he lets himself let out a deep sigh of relief. He reaches out to grab Henry’s wrist, “Come on,” he says softly and then drags Henry away. They follow Amy and Cash in tow with Nora, and June.
“We’ll fly you guys out to Midland, Texas. From there you’ll take backroads to the Lake house. There’s a bunker there that will have all the proper supplies needed.” Cash fills them in as they continue down the corridor in the direction of the airstrip.
“Midland? That’s the middle of nowhere” June gasps, taking a step to board the aircraft, followed close behind the others.
“Exactly, we need to get you clear out of traffic and anywhere people might be flocking to. Also, my family lives in Midland.” Cash continues as he quickly signs a clipboard the pilot is handing him.
Amy stuffs her hands in her pockets with her feet firmly planted. Alex turns around to meet her gaze, but she doesn’t look up.
“You’re not coming with us?” Alex observes.
“No, I’m not.” June looks up in Amy’s direction. “I’m meeting my family in fifteen minutes. “Her voice cracks and it’s all too much, the vulnerability there beneath the strength Alex is used to.
“Thank you, both, for everything” Alex squeezes her hand. She smiles softly but does not move. Before he knows it, they’re all strapped in the aircraft and Alex can’t help but reminisce about the last time he was sitting on a presidential plane. It was right after the Cake-gate incident that landed him in a forced friendship with Prince Henry. He was sitting with Amy, and she showed him pictures of her dog as she quizzed him on 100 facts about the prince. He marvels at how far away it all seems, and how wrong that fact sheet was.
“Best of luck out there,” Amy says. Then she eyes Henry from behind Alex, already sitting in his seat with a blank expression, fumbling with his seatbelt. She gives Alex a knowing smile.
They both nod, knowing it's goodbye.
Alex turns to Nora, trying to maintain a sense of habit.
“Numbers on us making it to Texas in one piece?” He asks playfully but with an undertone of worry.
“I don’t know - I don't…” she looks out the window, the horizon breaking in the distance. “But I’d love it if we did.”