Eden Restored

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The grand chandeliers of the White House ballroom shimmered

like distant stars, casting their light over a sea of suited men and

elegantly dressed women, each one more beautiful and powerful

than the next. The elite of Washington, D.C., mingled and posed,

their smiles as polished as the gold trim on the presidential seal.

The press glided through the crowd like sharks in the deep, ever

eager to catch a moment to preserve in the cold glare of their

cameras. The wine flowed freely, a red river of indulgence, and

in the center of it all stood President Alexander Vaughn, his

perfectly tailored suit hugging his frame in a way that could

only be described as supreme.