Chapter Text
Jordan's gaze was fixed on the screen, just like everyone else's, including Marin, who stood with a concerned expression, her arms crossed over her chest.
A few seconds later, the results of the second round of parliamentary elections appeared. After that, Jordan could barely process anything. Despite their efforts, the National Rally had not achieved an absolute majority—they had come in last. Yet, they managed to secure the highest number of seats for their deputies in the European Parliament, a victory to take pride in. This fact offered some comfort, though a sense of disappointment still hung in the air.
When Jordan stepped onto the stage, he was greeted with cheers and flashes of the French flag everywhere. The hall was buzzing with an excited energy — his party, despite the challenges, continued to garner fervent support. As he looked around at the crowd, he saw sincerity in their eyes. Taking a deep breath, he began his speech.
"Friends," Jordan started with a slight smile, "I want to thank each of you for your faith, your support, and for standing with us no matter what."
His voice sounded strong, with notes of confidence and determination. He knew he needed to instill hope and confidence in the future. Jordan emphasized the importance of protecting national interests and the country’s security.
"It’s important for all of us to understand: this is not the end. This is the beginning of a new chapter. We have shown we can unite for the good of our country, for the safety and progress of France. And we will not stop here! This is just the start! We will continue our struggle, continue to work hard, because France deserves better! For our future, for our children, for every French citizen!”
His final words sparked a wave of applause and cheering. Jordan saw people raising flags, heard his name chanted across the hall. He felt a wave of warmth and pride. Standing on the stage, he watched this surge of enthusiasm with a gentle smile and a determined look.
Arriving home late in the evening, Jordan first tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, quickly freshened up, and, after changing into more comfortable clothes, settled onto his bed. Fatigue weighed on him, but before going to sleep, habit took over, and he reached for his phone to check personal messages. To his surprise, amid the countless notifications, one caught his attention.
Stéphane had taken the time to congratulate Jordan. He expressed his admiration for the party’s achievements, even though “Renaissance” had outpaced the National Rally, though without an absolute majority.
Jordan found this both unexpected and a bit disconcerting, yet the fact that Stéphane, despite the political tensions, recognized the efforts and work of the National Rally, and specifically his own, brought him a certain calm.
And still... this unexpected message made him reflect.
“Thank you.” And, without hesitation, he directly expressed his surprise: “But, honestly, I’m a bit surprised.”
He sent the message and immediately felt a slight anxiety. Jordan wasn’t sure if Stéphane would respond right away, and certainly didn’t expect a long and candid reply. But a few minutes later, his phone vibrated.
“Politics and personal life shouldn’t mix,” Stéphane began. “I figured that out long ago. We may be political rivals, and of course, I disagree with many of your ideas and views, but that doesn’t mean I can’t respect you as a person. You’re an interesting person, and in an informal setting, we can talk without bringing up politics.”
Jordan froze, rereading these words several times. He hadn’t expected such openness. A faint smile appeared on his face. This was something new for him, especially given his own deep involvement in politics, where the personal and professional always seemed intertwined.
“You’re right... I’m not used to this approach, but it’s interesting.” Then, without much thought, he asked, “Are you back in France yet?”
Stéphane's reply came almost immediately.
“I’m on my way back tonight. I’m still on the road.”
“Maybe we could have dinner together tomorrow evening? I know a nice place where the media won’t disturb us.”
Jordan stared at his phone screen, waiting for a response.
“Sounds good, why not? I’d be happy to.”
It was hard for Jordan to hide his joy. He quickly typed back:
“Great! Then, see you tomorrow. Looking forward to it.”
In closing, Stéphane sent a friendly smiley. Jordan, with a wide smile on his face, sent one back. Putting his phone aside, he leaned back on his pillow and closed his eyes. His heart was beating faster than usual. This was the very step he had been waiting for so long.
As Jordan closed his eyes, the image of Stéphane’s face appeared in his mind — his thoughtful gaze, that soft smile he had seen only a few times but that now seemed so familiar and close.
“What will I say to him? How will I lead the conversation? Can I show him the person I want him to see?” — these questions surfaced in his mind, but instead of anxiety, they brought a pleasant anticipation.
He lay there, gazing into the darkness, feeling the world slowly fade around him before sleep began to gently embrace him.