Shadows of devotion (AHS Kai Anderson Fanfiction)

Mistakes

October 19th 2016

"If Russia and the United States got along well and went after ISIS, that would be good-"
The sound of women laughing interrupted the speech on the TV.
The laughing came from the three women sitting on a couch in the dimly lit basement of the Anderson home.
I sat against one arm of the couch, a bowl of popcorn resting in my lap. Beside me sat my childhood best friend Winter Anderson, and next to her was Carly, a friend she had met in college.
I didn't particularly care for Carly; she was loud, entitled, and lacked a filter. However, lately, I found myself spending more time around her. With Winter back from college, we revived an old habit of ours – sleepovers at her childhood home – and she started inviting Carly to join us. Tonight wasn't just a sleepover though; it was a girl's night, watching the debate between the candidates for our future president.

Winter and Carly shared a passion for politics, which happened to be the foundation of their friendship. However, I never bothered to keep up with it. I preferred to steer clear of topics like politics, movements, and even religion. I always felt they could ignite unnecessary conflicts and escalate violence rather than resolve issues. Besides, as an art student and dancer, I knew that I lacked the depth of knowledge to engage in such discussions anyway. The only reason I had bothered with tonight's controversy was because winter asked me to. My life hadn't exactly been perfect lately so I jumped at the opportunity for a girl's night, even if it meant pretending I knew about politics.
Throughout the night, I found solace in sweetly flavored alcohol, realizing that I became more supportive and enthusiastic when intoxicated. It seemed to be the only way I could actively participate in the conversation and genuinely find it interesting.

"I wonder if this is how black people felt when Obama became president," Winter mused, drawing my attention. Her words caught me off guard and I couldn't help but feel grateful for the numbing effect of alcohol. Normally, I would have found such a comparison uncomfortable, but in my current state, her remark seemed strangely insightful and amusing.
Leaning forward, I reached for my glass, taking a long swig of the bittersweet liquid before settling back into the couch. Despite my limited knowledge of politics, the newfound courage from the alcohol prompted me to contribute to the conversation, adopting a lighthearted tone. "I could be wrong... but maybe this is even more important than Obama's election. I mean, our fight for women's equality has lasted like... a long ass time." Perhaps my point wasn't the most articulate, but hey, I was wasted and trying to make good company.
Winter seemed to agree though, turning her gaze back onto the TV as she responded. "I guess you're right.. black men did get the right to vote before women did."

We continued watching the childish debate unfold. Clinton made a remark about a puppet being a better president than her opponent, to which Trump responded by calling her a puppet, whatever that meant. Our laughter echoed through the room once more. It wasn't exactly supposed to be funny, but in that moment, we found it hilariously absurd, as if we were watching the funniest comedy we'd ever seen.
When our laughter subsided, Winter took a sip of her wine before speaking confidently, "There's no way people are buying this shit. I'm telling you, she's gonna flip Texas and maybe even Arizona. It's gonna be the biggest loss in electoral college history." I didn't bother responding to her claim, opting instead to take another drink from my glass.

"Wanna bet?" Winter's brother's deep voice broke through our conversation, reminding me that we weren't alone in the house. I turned my head to look at the blue-haired man sitting at a small table, staring at his laptop. He sat directly under the only light source, a light bulb surrounded in round circular yellow stained glass, which hung from the low ceiling. The light accentuated his handsome features – his pale skin and light brown short stubble, which once matched the color of his hair. The glow from the blue screen of the laptop illuminated his deep brown, almost black, eyes. His deep dimples softened as he spoke, and his protruding Adam's apple bobbed slightly with each word.