Laura McGehee - The Royal Weddings

T he contagious electricity of hope filled the air, and Chelsea simply could not contain her excitement. She breathed in and out deeply; even though the crisp October chill hurt her lungs, she relished the pain. It felt worthwhile. It felt important. It made her pay attention to this moment, the one she was in right now, the one that she would tell her children and her childrens children about. She would describe the bitter bite of the air in her lungs, the charge of revolution that ignited the streets, and the chants to tear down the Wall (literally, metaphorically, spiritually) that arbitrarily separated peasant from Royal.

She looked to her left, and then to her right. The fresh-faced idealists whom she had grown to love in the past few weeks surrounded her, and engulfed her in their joy. They huddled together, their scarves wrapped tightly around their faces, their breath steaming up Chelseas glasses. Normally Chelsea was very particular about the cleanliness of her glasses, but today a strangers breath on her glasses was magicaljust another example of how Kennedy was bringing people together in a way that truly mattered.

Together we. Can. Change! #TearDownTheWall. Chatter it now! shouted Augustus onstage. Chelsea chanted the slogan along with him, her throat raw from a day already consumed by yelling. She pulled out her GlassPhone and sent the hashtag flying into the Stream, where it joined hundreds of others advocating the same radical act of revolution. It wouldnt even get close to breaking into the top trending Chatters, but Chelsea had recently discovered that moments could still be important, even if they didnt trend.

Augustus danced up and down the stage to his newest release, CraZed Bi U, perfectly hitting each and every beat with the kind of precision and finesse that only a thirteen-year-old androgynous boy could muster. While Chelsea was not the biggest Augustus fan, she absolutely loved to watch him move his youthful body to the sounds of well-produced electronic beats. If Kennedys slogans lit up with multicolored lights every time Augustus performed his signature back-down breakdance, then even better.

What began as a ninth grade government assignment a few weeks prior had led the unsuspecting teenage girl into a deep passion she would never have been able to imagine. No one with any sense of what was trending liked the presidential candidate profile assignment, because the peasant Presidents were tediously boring in comparison to the beautiful collective of drama-filled Royals. The President and members of PHOGEO didnt conduct illicit romances and throw wild parties in revolutionary-themed mayhemthey were middle-aged, overweight, and never did anything for the American public.

But alas, it had been a tepid morning in government class like any other when Chelsea had unwittingly stumbled upon her fate. Mr. Moby had yawned and informed Chelsea she would be covering the radical underdog, Carlos Kennedy. Chelsea had groaned loudly and complained all through lunch, especially since her best friend, Samantha, had been assigned President Wszolek, who was at least the very first female President and therefore slightly more interesting than anyone else. So while Samantha had gloated, Chelsea had taken to the Stream.

@Chels999: any1 wanna trade for Presidential candidate assignment?? Ughhhhh

@Chels999: Seriously guys, I got this stupid Kennedy dude, and I think he sux

But then she had received a curious response.

@MirandaUnderground22: @Chels999 Check out Kennedys site, you might be surprised to find out what hes about. We rally at the Wall every Tuesday at 2, come by?

Chelsea had reluctantly started her research, and found that Kennedy had the sort of youthful, chiseled face that made her want to pay attention. He had a full head of thick dark hair, a square jaw, mocha skin, and brightly shining teeth. And then something curious started to happen as she read more about Carlos. Instead of spacing out while she glossed over his statements, she found herself actually comprehending Carloss ideas. Not only was she reading what he said, she found herself forming real opinions about his ideas. She was engaging with his thoughts, in a way that public education had miserably failed to inspire her to do up to this point.

Chelsea had never really considered her views on any of the issues that adults talked about at dinner parties while she watched GlassTV in her room, but she suddenly found herself immersed. Why was there a wall that separated the peasants from the Royals? Why did the countrys infrastructure crumble the further one traveled from the Royal Village? Why did the peasants spend all of their time on the Stream talking about the Royals, instead of fighting for change?

After the assignment was overMr. Moby had given Chelsea a B+, which she thought was entirely unfairChelsea did not want to stop following Carlos Kennedy. So she didnt.

@Chels999: @MirandaUnderground22 can I come by the rally this Tues?

@MirandaUnderground22: @Chels999 for sure. were the ones with the magenta bandanas, profuse tattoos, and very vibrant spirits. cant miss us.

She was now at her fourth rally, and she had come to need this weekly shouting as much as she used to need the latest RoyalChatterStream episode of Whos Wearing Underwear?

Are you ready for the man we all came here to see? Augustus sang in a falsetto.

Yes! Chelsea found herself screaming along with the throngs of people around her. She couldnt hear her voice. She didnt want to.

One more timeare you all ready for Carlos Kennedy?

YES! The crowd spoke as one, breathed as one, and moved as one.

I dont think I can hear you. Are. You. Ready. For. Change?