A World of New Beginnings.
A few days after Bette Midler's Broadway triumph, the attention of the entire world turned to Washington DC, where Joe Kennedy III was about to become the country's youngest President in years. The city was quite literally full of people, young and old, as vast numbers swarmed to the city to see the moment that the divisions of the last four years were hopefully put aside at last. Not everyone was happy with the result of the election of course, and security had never been tighter in the capital; there were real fears that an assassination attempt might be made by the more right wing elements of society, anxious as they were to strike a blow to the hopes of the liberal minded. The city was in lockdown around Capitol Hill, with whole buildings having been cleared of people, and the windows being guarded by trusted soldiers.
The day was also a huge one for one Trent Nixon; the final draft of his inauguration speech had finally been approved by everyone the night before, and after personally thanking him for his hard work, the man that would be President later that day had invited Trent and Rory to join the party on the steps alongside him as he gave his speech. It was a completely unexpected request, and Trent had no hesitation in accepting, immediately knowing that he had to call his mother ASAP to let her know she would see him on television the following day. Rory was every bit as shocked when Trent told him; he would call his Nana in Ireland the next morning, as the news came too late for him to call her that night. He knew that the moment she hung up, she would be hastily assembling a party in her house so that everyone could watch as her grandson stood behind the man that was taking one of the most important jobs in the world. The television was after all how the majority of their closest friends and family would see the inauguration in any case. Work commitments meant that they could not come to join the throng that had already begun to assemble in the viewing areas before the sun even began to rise. With several hours to go, it was already estimated that the crowds had exceeded those that had been there four years ago…
Trent's friends might have been at work, but as the appointed time approached, none of them were actually doing much work, their focus like everyone else being on the upcoming broadcast from Washington. At Dalton, classes were suspended, and boys and staff alike made their way to a place where they could see the moment that a new hope dawned for their nation. As the hour approached, the big story that was dominating the airwaves was that the outgoing President had refused to honour the age old convention of meeting with his successor at the White House; instead, he had left that job to the outgoing Vice President; it was just another sign of what a sore loser the man in question was. It was widely rumoured that he had attempted to boycott the inauguration too, but he was being forced to attend by the Republican party hierarchy, which had lead to one of his characteristic outbursts on Twitter.
All of that would soon fade into the background when the cameras began to show the size of the crowd that had gathered in the National Mall; they stretched back as far as the eye could see. In New York, Jeff had headed to the Spotlight to watch the event, not wishing to see the moment alone, and yet not wanting to crash on Nick at his office either. He believed that the UN would still be a hive of activity, but even there, in the most international place on the continent, all attention was focused on DC. Work had stopped as everyone wanted to hear the youngest President in decades make his pledge and his address. Nick sat amongst his colleagues, in the knowledge that Trent had played a big part in creating what they were about to hear. As the hour approached on the city, the subway began to empty as only those in urgent need caught a train. Even in the cold of January, crowds had gathered to watch the event on big screens. Wall Street too fell silent, with the traders elsewhere in the world assisting by stopping trading too; indeed, those in Europe headed home early, or like their American counterparts, gathered to watch the moment on television…
The cheering that went up when the official swearing in had been completed was immense, not just in Washington, but in all those public spaces were a global audience viewed with interest. As they carried on with the event, the face of the now ex-President Trump was scarlet, a sign that he was about to lose his temper with those that he felt had betrayed him; the American people. He had ranted out over the last few days about not just heading out of Washington and New York for that matter, but out of the country altogether. He had hinted that he might move to Scotland, the ancestral home of his mother; that prompted a response from the government there that whilst he would be welcome to visit, there was no question of him being allowed to settle there.
All of those plans were made moot all of a sudden, as in a swift movement, some of the FBI men and women that had formerly been assigned to guard him now surrounded him. The crowd could not help but notice, and fell silent almost instantly; that meant that they all heard the words "Donald J Trump, you are under arrest…" What exactly he was being arrested for would remain a mystery for a while as the crowd once more erupted in noise. Many were now jeering at the man who had been so powerful just hours before, but was now being lead away, screaming and ranting, in handcuffs; his wife too was lead away. For Trent, just yards away at the time, there was no doubt as to why he was being arrested. Attempting to destroy the records of his presidency was a sure sign that they contained details of wrongdoing; the two months they had had to comb through those papers had obviously given them enough time to find some, if not all, of the pay dirt. Now that he had been taken away, the new President raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent as they waited to hear what he would say.
The political commentators would later say that his speech was one of the finest delivered since the Second World War; it was one that managed expectations, but still managed to convey the hope that people needed. With each burst of applause from the crowd, Trent's heart swelled just a little more, knowing that his words would be going on file for posterity. He smiled, not in an overexcited way, but just enough. Rory had his hand discretely entwined with his husband's, resisting through doing that the urge to wave at his Nana, who would be holding court in her front room in Clane as she watched. He knew that his mother-in-law would be doing exactly the same, and he was pretty sure that Trent's phone would explode with messages from around the world when he was able to turn it back on.
At the Spotlight, Jeff found himself sitting with Elliott and Dani, Michelle more than able to deal with the one or two people that were actually ordering. Most of the people in the diner were just sitting and watching, clapping from time to time like everyone else. At the UN, Nick said nothing about the fact that he knew the person that had written those eloquent, accessible words, but his heart was bursting with pride for him as he caught the occasional glimpse of him on the screen. At Dalton, Mrs Carmichael had begun to cry early on, and her husband was close, both from the words, and from the knowledge that it was one of their own that had written them. Wherever they were, all those that knew who had written the speech felt so proud and honoured to know Trent, and full of a new hope, as the author had intended.
With the speech delivered, the nation returned to work, with a new sense of a unity of purpose for the first time in a generation or more. The young were no longer willing to sit back and have political decisions thrust upon them by their elders, simply on the grounds that they were older and therefore 'knew better'. That was no longer going to be justification enough, not when that age group had just helped to give the nation four years of daily embarrassments. True, there had been that photo op moment with Kim Jong Un, but there had been so many other people threatened or alienated in the process. The new President had a pile of decrees prepared and ready to be signed on his desk, on subjects ranging from climate change, via trade deals, to infrastructure projects. In the latter, that did not just include road repairs and bridge replacements, but the restoration and indeed increase to the Amtrak budget. The backing of both houses was with him, and for the first time in many years, things might actually get done.
The first media briefing of the new administration was done just yards from where the President had made his speech. They announced that Trump had been arrested on charges of fraud, collusion with a foreign state, and for his attempts to destroy the evidence of it all. The papers that they were still going through revealed new horrors each and every day, and it was considered likely that the majority of his immediate family, save his wife and youngest son, would end up on trial with him. Trent heard every word from his privileged position, having been told to remain where he was by his new bosses. The briefing over, Trent was told the reason why he had been asked to stay; he was charged with preparing a speech for the President to give to the American people that night on the issues; one that would reflect on the serious nature of his crimes, and hinted to the fact that other revelations would be forthcoming. Trent nodded, relishing the challenge; he kissed his husband goodbye, then hurried to his new desk in the West Wing to commence his task. Having achieved success with the big speech, this one did not concern him at all…
In a theatre green room in New York, the cast of Oklahoma! had come together to watch the speech; Sebastian had sat in silence just as Nick was doing on the other side of town, secretly so proud of his friend's achievement. He was helped by the fact that Bette knew who had written the speech too, and had remained as tight lipped as he had been forced to, but still smiling broadly at the man's words. "Well," she said as the ceremony on screen ended, "whoever wrote that speech deserves all the acclaim in the world. It said all that it needed to, and then some, and was easy to understand. I just hope that they know how much we all appreciate that." She winked at Sebastian as she finished, and he made a mental note to text him her praise later on.
As the cast and crew then began to disperse and prepare themselves for that afternoon's matinee, Sebastian's phone began to ring, and checking the caller display, he smiled as he saw his husband's name. He picked up and said, "Hey, my love. Wasn't that just a marvellous speech? Trent has excelled himself…"
"Sebby, that isn't why I am calling," came Dave's voice, interrupting him. There was something in his husband's tone that made Sebastian freeze. "Are you sitting down, and more importantly, are you with someone? If you aren't, then I think it is best you should be…"
"Dave, you are worrying me," Sebastian replied as he hurried along to Bette's dressing room on instinct, and knocked on the door. He walked in, and sat down across from her; the look on his face was all she needed to know that he required her full attention. "Okay, I am with Bette. Please tell me it isn't something bad with my maman, or Jules, or Peter, or…nobody has died, have they?"
"No, no-one has died. I just wanted you to have company when I told you that Caitlin called."
"The surrogate…what's wrong?"
""She's missed her cycle again, and so she took a test at home; then she went to see her doctor, and she had confirmed it this morning. We are expecting, Sebby. She is about 10 weeks pregnant, so we should be parents sometime in August."
"She's… really? This isn't a joke… Really?"
"Really. We are pregnant, Sebby!"
"I'm going, no we are going to be dads… WE'RE GOING TO BE DADS!" Sebastian finished off at the top of his voice, leaving Dave to laugh, and Bette to clap her hands together in delight for them.
"Okay, so calm down," said Dave when he felt it was safe. "We should keep this to ourselves a little while longer - April maybe before we make any kind of announcement to everyone. In the meantime, it is just us, Caitlin, and unless she is deaf, Bette. It is still early days…"
"That is going to be so hard! I want to yell it from the rooftops. We're having a baby…" Sebastian suddenly found his vision blurring as his eyes filled with joyful tears, and then his voice went. Unable to speak, he handed his phone to Bette and let his tears roll. He heard her congratulate Dave, then promise that she would take care of the young man in her dressing room. Sebastian suddenly realised that he had never imagined that the prospect of fatherhood could get him so choked up, but here he was, crying his eyes out… He also knew that regardless of which of the two of them was the bio dad, he would have a child to spoil this Christmas. To be honest, he could not have asked for any better a gift at the start of the year…
As a consummate professional of the Broadway stage, Sebastian did not allow his excitement at the news colour his performances that day; if there did seem to be a special twinkle in his eye, then only Bette knew why it was there, and why he seemed to be performing with a fresh gusto. His steps seemed livelier, and the young lady that was playing Laurie was nearly swept literally off her feet in the dance sequences. The audiences loved every minute of it, and they took their bows to a standing ovation twice. With the shows over, Sebastian remained professional as he went through all the usual motions; he signed autographs at the stage door as always, posing for selfies, but he was glad when he could hurry out to catch his usual train from Penn station. Once he was back in Maplewood though, that all changed, and he virtually sprinted all the way home, and ran through the front door to find Dave waiting for him with his arms open. As they embraced, both of them felt tears begin to flow, as they realised that their dreams of being a family were now coming true. Keeping that fact a secret was going to be difficult for both of them; the next few weeks were going to be stressful as they waited for the time it would be safe to tell their family and friends.
"I remember what I promised you," Sebastian eventually said when words could finally come. "I will love our child regardless of which one of us is the biological father."
"Likewise; they will always be ours, and a part of someone that we love so very much."
"But, when we do find out who the father is, then if we try again…"
"Not if, Sebby, when…"
"Okay, when we try again, then it is the other one of us that provides the necessary…"
"…as we agreed. But we will stop with two. Two is the right number."
"Unless this child happens to be twins," quipped Sebastian. Dave laughed at that, then nodded in agreement. Life suddenly seemed all the better for both of them with this news…
At breakfast the following morning, the phone rang, and Sebastian got up to answer it. It was the secretary at NYADA, apologising profusely for calling him at such an early hour, but Carmen had expressed a desire to see him in the early afternoon, if that was at all possible. Sebastian laughed at that statement, knowing that with the Dean of NYADA, such a request meant that you went, regardless of what you might have had planned for the day. He arranged that he would be at the school at 2pm, then returned to his original plan for the morning, which was spending quality time with his husband, before he too had to head to his work that afternoon. They enjoyed an early lunch together, then headed their separate ways to the roles that paid their bills.
He was just on time in arriving at NYADA, a combination of a signal failure at Secaucus Junction and a late running train on the subway. He smiled at the students that recognised him as he passed by, enjoying every moment of the fame that he had in those hallowed halls. He was waved straight into Carmen's office, and after a quick knock at the door, he entered…
The first surprise was that Carmen was not alone. Sitting on the opposite side of her desk from her was Santana, who looked just as surprised to see him there. "Ah, Mr Smythe, right on schedule," said Carmen with a smile. "I am guessing that is due to the vagaries of the New Jersey Transit. Hopefully our new President will find the necessary funds to deliver better signalling, and even the new tunnels under the Hudson that are so badly needed. Please take a seat, and then I can explain why I have summoned both of you here to meet me today."
"That would be good; much as I love having a chance to catch up with my favourite Meerkat, I do have things that I should be doing at the theatre," said Santana testily.
"It is the same for me," added Sebastian. "Satan and I have both made our way here at short notice, believing that it was for a one on one chat. I would like to know what you are up to…"
"And know it you shall," replied Carmen. "Firstly, I would like to say how proud I am of both of you, having risen to the challenges of being in a lead role on Broadway. You are both such an inspiration to so many of the students here, proof that they can achieve their dreams."
"If this is going to be a request to come and teach a master class of some sort, then I would need to check my schedule first," interrupted Sebastian.
Carmen frowned at him over her glasses, and he felt duly chastened. "It wasn't, although that idea does have some merit nonetheless. No, this meeting is to discuss with you your next moves career wise. You have both been in your current roles for a year or so now, and your audiences remain good; however, very few shows have an unending run, and those that do regularly change their casts. That is why you both need to think of your next role. I have a suggestion as to what those should be, and before I make it, I would like to point out that I have discussed the idea at length with several very influential people. They all agreed with me; a show in which the two of you star together would be an ideal scenario, and a money spinner. I have made a suggestion as to what that show should be, and I have secured potential backers."
Santana looked at Sebastian, then asked the question that was on both their minds. "So, what show do you think that the two of us could work in together?"
"One from which you have already sung a number together; one that was critical in getting both of you a place here at NYADA. I have proposed that the two of you star in a new revival of Cabaret…"
Santana and Sebastian turned to look at each other for a moment, before they turned back to give full attention to the Dean of NYADA. "So you really think that the two of us should be in a show with each other? Do you honestly think that working together for eight performances a week would not bring us close to committing murder?" said Santana, before turning to Sebastian and saying, "No offence meant, but…"
"None taken, and ditto. I mean, we do get on together well enough these days, and the insults we trade are more playful than meant with the venom they once had, but that could all change in the blink of an eye in the confines of a theatre," continued Sebastian.
"I think that you both seriously underestimate yourselves on that score. I see before me two young people for whom professionalism on the stage is the key; for you, the thing that matters is the show. I know of several big hits of recent years where the leads had to be given dressing rooms at opposite ends of the theatre; that had the situation where the only words that they ever spoke to each other were those in the script. The audiences never found out, and the interviews they gave were stage managed to make all appear sweetness and light. So before you dismiss the idea out of hand, please hear me out." Carmen paused, waiting for a comment, but when none came, she went on. "I am suggesting a limited run of at most six months; just long enough to let the world see what I did on that night at the memorial. Two performers with brilliant timing, and an almost psychic ability to be aware of all the other is thinking and doing. Two voices that work so well with each other, blending in a harmony that few do so easily. Yes, it will be unconventional, and so will my staging. After all, who is to say where Emcee is from - Germany or America? And just because Sally Bowles lived in Chelsea, who is to say that it was the one in London? After all, we do have an area of that name here too."
"That much is true, so it would be possible to portray her as a New Yorker. In my opinion though, Emcee would still have to be a Berliner," mused Sebastian.
"That sounds like you are actually contemplating saying yes to this scheme, Meerkat," hissed Santana.
"Well, yes, why not? After all, I am a professional Broadway star, able to put all my issues and misgivings aside to ensure that the show can go ahead. I will however only consider doing it if you are my co-star. There is no-one else that can hold a candle to you for flair and talent…"
As Sebastian winked at her, Santana continued to scowl, and huffed at his words. "I suppose that we could consider Miss Rose for the part, or even Miss Berry…" mused Carmen, ignoring the look of horror on Sebastian's face at the mention of the second name.
"Marley would never be able to vamp it up in the way that I can; her voice is wonderful, but would I ever believe she was a hard-bitten cabaret artiste? No! And as for Rachel, there are a billion and one reasons why she wouldn't work. If you bring in either of them to perform my part, then the show will flop!" snapped Santana.
"Your part, Ms Pierce-Lopez?" said Carmen, with just a hint of a smile. "Does that mean it is a yes from you too?" Sebastian promptly burst out laughing as he realised the same thing that Santana was at that moment; Carmen had just played her, and she had won…
Afterwards, the two of them walked together in the direction of the subway which would take them both uptown to the respective theatres for their shows. "I hate that she can do that to me," groaned Santana. "She is the only person in the world that can get through my defences, with the exception of my wife, but that case is unique and different."
"Oh, she is good, and you have to admit it. She knows exactly what your kryptonite is, and the minute she put it out and said the word Rachel…"
"She knew I would bite."
"For which I am grateful, because the idea of spending six months in the company of that lady is enough for me to consider giving up theatre altogether and becoming an accountant. Admit it, the show does actually sound fun, and working together should be okay. Of course, they will need to make sure they have a very good understudy for me…"
"Why? Are you planning to be sick or something in the middle of the run?" said Santana with a grin, but then she caught sight of the expression on Sebastian's face; an expression which indicated to her that he had said too much… "Hmm… Right, you had better spill what is going on right now, or I will call Carmen here and now, and tell her that I have had second thoughts, but you will quite happily work with Rachel on a nightly basis instead…"
"You wouldn't dare!"
Santana pulled out her phone, and in a low voice said, "They didn't nickname me Satan for nothing. Still, it is up to you…"
"Okay, but you have to promise me that you will not repeat this to anyone, not even your wife. Dave would kill me for breaking our promise not to say anything to anyone," whispered Sebastian, and the pain in his expression broke Santana's heart just a little.
"Okay, I promise. Whatever it is stays between us…"
"Our surrogate is expecting. We found out yesterday, but it is still such early days, and we don't want to jinx things…"
"I can only say that I am pleased for the pair of you, and I promise that I will act as surprised as everyone else when you break the news," she replied quietly, placing a hand over his.
"Thanks. You really don't deserve to be called Satan, you know…not all the time." Santana just smiled back at him, whilst in her heart she felt just a twinge of jealousy at the prospect of him being a father; after all, she was starting to feel ready to be a mom herself…
By the time that they reached their respective theatres, the whole country was in the grip of an excitement that had not been seen in years. It was not because there was a major presidential announcement on the future of the nation to be heard; no, it was more the fact that a joint press conference between the FBI and the CIA had been scheduled for that afternoon over what charges had been placed at the door of the previous President after his very public arrest the previous day. Some people had been more in the loop than others, and that had of course included the staff in the West Wing. Trent was amongst the first to be informed as they were only in the position they were in because of his reputation for honesty and his quick thinking; otherwise, all of the evidence would probably have been reduced to ashes. He was of course sworn to the strictest of secrecy, not even allowed to say anything to Rory or Burt about what the truth was. All around the capital, the political rumour mill had of course gone into overdrive, with claim and counter claim being made everywhere. The press conference, when it came, confirmed the original charges of fraud and collusion with a foreign power; there was some damning evidence in the files as to how far it had actually gone. There was also now a lot of evidence that all of the problems he had produced from his trade wars had actually benefited close friends in various sectors, and most of them had paid him back in cash or shares for the benefit that they had gained. Those people that were behind all of those backhanded dealings were now themselves subject to investigation, and in two cases, had been arrested.
The NRA was found to be tied in to many of the worst charges on the sheet, and it was seen as highly likely that most of its key players would end up on the stand with the man that had been President. After all of those announcements, the nation was ready to hear more, and in a carefully timed move, the current President would give an address with his Vice President at his side. After all, the process of repairing the damage and healing the wounds of the last four years needed to begin that afternoon, and many of the things that would be said would be huge. Trent had written the initial draft of the speech first thing, and had then spent the rest of the day revising it, responding to the constructive criticism of his seniors, particularly the man that would actually make it. Even as he handed it over as the cameras were about to roll, he still felt that all of it was just a very long and vivid dream, and that any moment now, he would wake up on the couch at home, with a hangover, and find it was the day after the election again…