How To Win A Campaign (Jon Ossoff x Reader)

nine

In the morning, I was greeted by a mild headache that reminded me of last night. It didn't help that the sun was blaring through the blinds and right on my face. A groan escaped as rubbed my eyes, trying to rid them of strain. I looked over at Jon, who was rolled on his side with the comforter pulled up to his chin. Sitting up, I looked over at the digital clock on the bedside table, seeing it was rough 7:30 am.

At this point, I felt as if I had crossed several boundaries I had placed for my campaigns. This candidate was so much different than my past ones, I had to admit. Jon was my age and was more relatable than the dinosaurs I had led before. It was so much easier to have conversations about not-politics with him, and he was perfectly charismatic. Sure we had our arguments and disagreements, but, unfortunately, I had considered Jon a friend. For God's sake, I was having a drunk sleepover with him like we were in high school. I would never do something like that with any of my other candidates, and that was what made Jon different. I could express myself and allow myself to be open around him without fear of coming as unknowledgeable or annoying. Jon understood me, or at least made me comfortable, I was content enough to say I made him equally as comfortable and understood him just as much.

Back over to Jon, I shoved him nonchalantly in an attempt to wake him. "Get up," I commanded as I rolled out of the bed.

I heard him groan back, swatting my hand away and turning over to his other side "What time do we need to there?" He mumbled with his eyes shut tight. He had to have felt that horrible headache I was feeling too.

"Nine. Come on, we need to shower and write that tweet," I reminded him.

With that, he rolled onto his back and looked up at me with a smile, "Oh yeah." Slowly, he sat up and climbed out of the bed. He stretched his arms above his head, letting out another groan. "Do you have any ibuprofen?" He chuckled as he walked over to me.

Immediately, I was hit with awful morning breath mixed with wine-breath as a result from last night. "I do have some mints," I coughed, swatting the breath he was exuding away.

"Oh, my breath smells bad?" Jon asked as he breathed right in my face so he could relish in my displeasure.

"Jon, stop!" I cried, trying to push him away so I wouldn't pass out from the atrocious scent that was coming from his mouth.

He laughed at my plea and backed off, still wearing that smile. "I'll go get ready," he freed me as he walked out of my room. Finally, he had gone away with that dead animal that was rotting in the back of throat.

I, too, took this time to get ready. I showered off the scent of wine from the previous night, and brushed my teeth so I didn't have that awful aftertaste lingering. We all had planned to wear the campaign shirts, which were just blue t-shirts with the Jon Ossoff for U.S Senate logo across it. I inspected myself in the mirror, making sure the outfit I would inevitably get soaked in sweat looked fine. I threw on my tennis shoes, grabbed my bag to put on the bus, and locked the hotel room behind me. After putting my things back on the bus, I met with Jon and the interns in the lobby, where there were tables and chairs along with a coffee machine. Like usual, Jon took it upon himself to get my coffee, so when I sat down there was already a cup before me.

I smiled at the interns as they sat in front of us, a confused and almost worried look displaying on their faces. Slowly, they sat down wondering what I could've been thinking when they approached.

"Good morning, you two. Last night, Perdue posted quite a scandalous ad depicting Jon with an enlarged nose," I greeted them, "and, if you didn't know, our dear Jon is Jewish, so this is horrible, for Perdue."

Riley looked between the two of us and placed a hand over their mouth, "I'm sorry, Mr. Ossoff," they looked certainly devastated of the anti-Semitism, but little did they know we wanted to capitalize on it.