005

Sarah, a name now acknowledged and recognized in the journal of the nation's political context, stood as the center of an exceptional sight, surrounded by glaring lights, loud and noisy voices, and examining eyes from the press, reflecting a model of the public.

Amidst the lights and noisy surroundings, the press that managed to get close to her probed her with questions, their eyes gleaming with excitement. She was their new prey — the fact that she was the first Lady made things more interesting for them.

For the first time since her marriage with the president, she had only stepped out for a moment to look around and probably get used to her new environment but things did not turn out as she thought would be.

As though the press was keeping a close watch on her and monitoring her movement — maybe someone had tipped them off her whereabouts, they hovered around her like flies, trapping her down in the same spot.

Microphones and other instruments used by the press were pointed in her direction, followed by voices she found hard to different from the others — everyone wants a reply from the First Lady.

"...Can you share with us how you managed to overcome the challenges and controversy surrounding your first marriage to become the country's first lady?..." This was the first question that was thrown at her that almost threw her off balance.

She had barely regained herself from the first question when another was thrown. "...How do you respond to the public's mixed opinions about your past scandal and your current role as the first lady?..."

"...What lessons have you learned from your previous experiences and how do they influence your approach to being in the public eye as the first lady?..."

"...Can you speak to the support you've received from the public and political community in light of your personal history?..."

"...How do you intend to use your platform as first lady to address issues that are important to you?..."

Numerous questions — as well as sensitive ones, were asked, the press struggling to gain her attention to themselves at all costs.

Clad in a refined tailored suit that brought out her elegant figure, she tried to maintain a calm expression before the public and protruding eyes. Beneath the facade was a swirl of emotions — she felt embarrassed, shy, and most of all; she was furious. Sarah felt like a bird suddenly thrust into the spotlight of public curiosity and expectations.

Each question asked by the press where like a sharp needle piercing the bubble of her privacy, exposing her past for the world to see. The scandal of herself ditching her wedding, leaving her fiancé in dilemma wasn't only the reason for her anger and wound but the sight for the gnawing curiosity of the public.

Once a free-spirited woman, Sarah now found herself trapped in the uncontrolled expectations of her newly profound position. Her title was, to her, a noose tied around her neck, tightening with every public follow-up.

Amidst the scandal that surrounded the end of her first marriage and branded with the title of first lady, a position she both hated and struggled to comprehend. A bitter taste of resentment lingered in the corner of her tongue as the whisper of her personal life traveled rapidly around the city's gossiping corners — that moment, she wished she could just vanish into thin air.

************

Arriving home, Sarah longed for isolation but was quickly confronted by the huge figure of her husband, the President. His imposing presence was etched with deep lines of displeasure.

His piercing eyes were cutting through her like a broken piece of ice, making her more uncomfortable. He contained the prideful arrogance typical of those who hold power and authority.

"Remember..." He barked, his hoarse voice echoing through the lavishly decorated chamber, barely taking his icy stare away from her. "You are not to appear in public without my knowledge. No more scandalous headline, Sarah!"

His voice was noted with vehemence, chipping away at her resolve. To her, he's like a hoofed demon, ridiculing her lack of freedom — a truth she was beginning to learn as the First Lady.

Sarah opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it. "Your role as the first Lady lies within the presidential residence, not elsewhere. Your world is this!" He blurted out, gesturing at the extravagant suite. "—and you better get used to it!"

Sarah's lips turned dry as she swallowed the harsh reality of her new world. Her heart was filled with despair as she contemplated her crumbled dreams. It was as if the world, once rich with colors and vitality, had now fallen to nothing but ruin — now a shattered reflection of her past self.

"Now, if you will excuse me, Sarah..." He uttered, gesturing to the doorpost. It was clear, that her presence meant nothing to him — and her emotions as well, he did not think twice as he talked harshly at her.

Without arguing words with him or giving him a response — well, what was she to say to him, she walked away from him, her legs barely holding her weight; she felt more hurt and embarrassed than she was with the press.

Sarah sat in the private room the president had provided for her, feeling overwhelmed and alone, the events of the day still fresh in her mind. She couldn't believe how quickly her life had changed since marrying the president.

She thought she was ready for it all, but she realized now that she had been naive. She let out a deep sigh and wondered how she was going to get through the rest of her term as the first lady.

As she sat there lost in thought, her phone beeped loudly and a notification on her phone pulled her out of her reverie. It was a message from her ex-fiancé, David...