I Know What It's Like
Rating: M
A/N: Hey! So I know this is a weird time to start a new story, but I couldn't really get it off my mind. I felt this is also the perfect time to post it, because it has to do with things going on in the US right now. We've been seeing so much about the new First Daughters in the news, so I decided to base a story around that. Right off the bat I will say this isn't a stereotypical first daughter story where Gabriella just wants a normal and is trying to escape from the secret service. There will be some stuff that has to do with the media but, it won't be the main focus, I feel that all of that has been done already. There will definitely be similarities to Gabriella's life and the life of Sasha and Malia Obama, but this story is in no way political. Don't feel like you won't like it if you don't know anything about politics or if you don't agree with President Obama's views. It is rated M, and there will be some sexual content. I hope you like it!
His mother was going to kill him. He was late. Very late. And he didn't have an excuse. It was a Saturday so he couldn't say his class ran late. He couldn't say basketball practice ran late because that would've meant the coach had kept the team for 5 extra hours. He couldn't say he was studying in the library and lost track of time because…well…his mother wasn't stupid. Yep, he was dead. And as soon as he rounded the corner into the Front Hall of his family's home, his suspicions were confirmed. She didn't say anything, just gave him that look.
"I'm sorry mom. I…I…"
"What?! They are going to be here any minute!" Even after 19 years, he still jumped when she yelled at him. Which was often.
"I know, I know." She sighed and looked her son up and down. As she did, he thanked god that he had decided to put on a collared shirt and actually run a brush through his hair that day.
"Well at least you're here and you don't look like a complete mess." He flashed her his signature smile.
"Thanks mom." She rolled her eyes.
"Now remember, this was you eight years ago, so be…" Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.
"You really think I'm going to be an asshole to her?"
"Language young man! And no, I just wanted to remind you of how nervous you were and how intimidating it was for you."
"Mom, I was 11. She's 16. I think she'll be fine." And there was that look again.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Bolton…" The two turned to see the one of the residence's many butlers approaching them. "They are here."
"Ok thank you." They walked down the hall and out to one of the three driveways as three black suburbans and two police cars pulled up.
"Remember, this was you eight years ago." He rolled his eyes, but quickly hid his annoyance and smiled widely, as the door to the 2nd of the three SUVs opened. As predicted, out walked a beautiful Hispanic woman, and her teenage daughter.
"Michelle!" Smiles graced the faces of both women as they moved to embrace each other, and their children followed.
"Lucy!" After the two women complimented each other and exchanged pleasantries their children approached.
"Gabriella! It's so nice to see you." The older and younger woman kissed each other's cheek, as the younger boy stuck out his hand.
"So nice to see you Mrs. Montez. Welcome."
"Thank you Troy, it's nice to see you too." The two shook hands before turning to Gabriella and Lucy. "Troy this is my daughter, Gabriella." For the first time, blue eyes met brown. Troy smiled and held out his hand and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks as she shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you Troy."
"You too. Welcome to The White House."
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"Troy, why don't you show Gabriella where she'll be living, while I introduce Michelle to some of the staff."
"Of course." He turned to the teenage girl, who had yet to say much since she arrived. "Come on. Follow me." He turned around, and she immediately did as well. They walked through the massive halls that were hung with antique paintings in an awkward silence. Troy looked down at the girl and smiled. It wasn't at the fact that she was so beautiful. He was very aware of that, everyone was. More at the fact that she had the same exact look on her face that he did eight years earlier. A perfect mix of excitement and nervousness.
"So, happy to be off the campaign trail?" Her head snapped up towards him and she couldn't help but smile.
"I would say you have no idea, but, you do." He laughed and nodded.
"Yep, I sure do. And don't worry, you only have to do it once more, and it isn't as bad."
"Thank god." They continued down the hallway in a more comfortable silence, until Troy all of a sudden jogged forward. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as he did. But then she couldn't help but laugh as she saw him wrap his arms around a woman who must have been in her early 70s and give her a huge hug. As she approached them, they turned to her and Troy draped his arm over the woman's shoulders.
"Gabriella, this is Mrs. Wheely. She's without a doubt the tightest of all the residence staff." Gabriella smiled and shook the woman's hand.
"Nice to meet you."
"You too dear. We're all so excited that it's your family moving in here in January and not that other schmuck." Gabriella and Troy burst out into laughter.
"That's good to hear."
"I hope you are easier to get out of bed than this one." Troy gasped dramatically and Gabriella giggled. "I swear you could hit this boy with a baseball bat and he wouldn't wake up."
"I dunno, I'm a pretty heavy sleeper." Mrs. Wheely overdramatically groaned and they laughed.
"It's all good. Mrs. Wheely can do anything."
"Thank you sweetie. Now I'll just let you continue on your tour." She turned to Troy. "Are you going to be sleeping here tonight?" He looked at her like she was crazy and scoffed.
"It's a Saturday." Without saying anything she hit him over the head, which made Gabriella's jaw drop.
"Ow!!!" She gave him a look and he sighed. "No, I'm not."
"Thank you." She then turned to Gabriella. "It was so nice meeting you dear."
"You too." Gabriella smiled back and Mrs. Wheely walked off.
"Come on, I'll show you the kitchen." Gabriella nodded and followed him until they reached a massive kitchen.
"What up!!" he exclaimed as they walked in, making her giggle again. There were four guys in the room, all of whom she assumed were in their late 20s, and he greeted them all with high-fives. "Did you see Kobe's 36 last night?!" Gabriella's smile widened in amazement. She never expected Troy to be like this. So down to earth, so normal. A boy who spent the most developmental years of a person's life being the son of the most powerful man in the world, and the past few being fawned over by millions of teenage girls across the country, was talking to kitchen workers like they were his best friends. And it didn't stop there. As he showed her the rest of the residence, he greeted every butler, maid, etc, by name and either exchanged in some playful banter with them or simply asked how they were, sometimes even asking about their spouses and kids.
"And last but definitely not least. The bedroom." He opened the door to what looked like a normal 19 year olds bedroom. Sports posters, trophies, etc. She looked around, taking in the fact that on January 20th, it would be her bedroom for the next four years. "So what do you think?"
"I dunno, it's weird thinking that in a few months this is gonna be my bedroom."
"I know what you mean, but by the time you actually sleep here it will look like you've been living here for 5 years." Gabriella just nodded, before turning to him.
"Do you like it?"
"Do you want me to lie and say I love it or do you want the truth," he asked back and she couldn't help but laugh.
"The truth." He sat down on the side of the bed and she followed, sitting about a foot away from him.
"Ok, well, part of it is great. I mean my Dad is the President of The United States. There is a bowling alley and a movie theater in my house. I can press a number on the telephone and anything I want to eat will be up here in 15 minutes. I go to Georgetown. I've been all over the world and I got there on a private 747…"
"But…"
"Then there are those horrible dinner parties…"
"God I hate those," Gabriella groaned, which mad them both laugh,
"Yeah. All the bad stuff you've pretty much dealt with already. The media, the secret service, etc. All that stuff won't be anything new."
"What about Sidwell, what's that like?" He thought for a second about Sidwell Friends School, the upscale private school that he had attended before going to Georgetown, and that Gabriella would be going to.
"It's good. You'll like it. The good thing about it is that most of the kids have parents in politics. A lot of them are sons and daughters of ambassadors, senators, etc. The bad part is, a lot of the kids have parents who are very power hungry, and will try to get to your Dad through you."
"What did kids do?"
"Some will just suck up to you, others more extreme things. It was different for me cause I was younger, but for example on my first day the son of some senator gave me a letter that his parents had helped him write up asking me to come over."
"Are you serious?!"
"Yeah." Troy couldn't help but laugh at the memory. "I was so confused. I remember my mom crumbling it into a ball and throwing out before telling me to never speak to that kid again. It turns out his dad was trying to get some legislation past about something or other." Gabriella nodded.
"Does it get lonely?" she asked nervously, and he just nodded.
"That's why I'm so close with everyone who works here. It's really hard finding people to trust."
"Yeah," Gabriella sighed, sadly. He looked at her face and his heart sank, now knowing that because of him she was probably even more freaked out than she was before. After a few seconds of pondering he reached over the bedside table and grabbed a piece of paper and pen. After scribbling something on the paper, he handed it to her. "What's this?"
"My phone number." Her eyes popped up in shock. Sure, he had been extremely nice to her but, he was 'America's Prince William'. Why would he be giving a girl 3 years younger than him his phone number.
"Wh…why, are you giving me your phone number?"
"Because, you will soon learn that the hardest thing about being the only child of the President of the United States is that there is no one else in this world going through the same thing. And that means that no one will ever understand. Sitting here with you makes me realize how much easier things would've been if I had someone in my life who understood. So if you ever need to talk to someone who's been there, don't hesitate to call." A wide smile spread across her face.
"Thanks Troy. I, I might take you up on that offer."
"Please do."
"So have you ever given your secret service the slip?"
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