My skin crawls beneath the spotlights. That's why I chose my navy Dormeil Vanquish II instead of the gray one: nobody can see me sweat. And if the makeup holds, the beads of stress gathering in rivulets will not betray my male pattern baldness. My PR team may have to bolster the fact, but for all those in the cheap seats, I am a shining beacon of success. 

 

A success who is wiping the floor with the gubernatorial incumbent. I simply need to knock this last statement out of the park, and I will have sealed the deal. A final step toward 1600 Penn. It’s all coming together now. 

 

“Senator Harrow, it is your rebuttal. How would you like to address Governor Mercer’s claim that your platform will be detrimental to the state’s educational infrastructure?” The distractingly gorgeous moderator turns in her seat, the swell of her cleavage swiveling toward me. 

 

I smirk at both the lob and the way she’s been flirting with me all evening. The practiced movement will come across as assuredness, according to polls. I hold it in place for a moment longer.

 

“That’s an excellent question; so glad you asked.” I settle the flat of my fist on the podium, close enough to the microphone that its quiet thump echoes through the theater. “I know we are about to drop the curtain on the evening, so I will not spend my time reminding you all that literacy and graduation rates plummeted throughout my opponent’s time in office. The decisions made have critically affected the well-being of our children, and frankly, I’m pissed.”

 

The predicted roar of assent from the crowd. I continue to pepper in my talking points as the room grows thick.

 

“I’m pissed because my tax dollars went into a black hole.” Another fist against the podium. Unlike the initial thump, however, this sound resonates so low that I feel it before I hear it. 

 

A bell tolls, low and mournful, lasting long after the crowd settles. My bones vibrate with its greeting.

 

 “And… And the current governor’s office just… just let it happen! Under my leadership, this state will prosper - from the classroom to the b-b-b-boardroom.” Get it together, Harrow. “Every corporation headquartered here will be responsible for an education tariff, beginning immediately. Our winners of today bring the money back to our winners of tomorrow.”

 

The audience erupts, standing to celebrate my false promise. My ovation continues beyond the clock running out. The moderator shrugs when I cross the stage, making sure I quarter-turn to the seats while reaching for Mercer’s hand in a choreographed gesture of goodwill. 

 

He shakes my hand, a rueful smile pulling at his lips. “Congratulations, Senator. You just won yourself a new desk.” He turns toward the crowd as well, still gripping my hand. “You’ll pay the toll soon enough.”

 

Mercer smiles sadly, then disappears off-stage. I take my first deep breath of victory.

 

I ignore the ringing in my ears.