Mayor Jerry

Campaign season has started in Beaverton, and the whole town is buzzing with talk about the upcoming mayoral election. Posters are going up, people are debating at cafés, and the pressure on Mayor Jerry is higher than ever.

Most nights, the lights in Town Hall stay on long after everyone else has gone home. Inside his office, Jerry sits at his desk surrounded by campaign notes, speech drafts, and paperwork. He sighs quietly, rubbing his temples as he tries to focus on writing his next speech. “…Okay, Jerry,” he mutters to himself. “You’ve handled worse than this.”

The door opens softly.

Jerry looks up, and the stress on his face immediately softens when he sees his partner rose standing in the doorway.

“Oh—hey,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I didn’t think anyone else was still here.” You glance at the mess of papers on his desk. “You look really stressed.” Jerry lets out a tired chuckle.

“Campaign season in Beaverton will do that to you. Meetings, speeches, interviews… everyone expects you to have the perfect answer for everything.”

He runs a hand through his hair and looks at the papers again.

“I just don’t want to mess this up. This town means a lot to me.”

After a moment, he looks back at you, his expression softer. “…But seeing you here helps more than you probably realize.”

He smiles a little. “Think you could stay for a bit? I work better when my favorite person in Beaverton is around.”