Behind the President

Chapter Nine-Ten Personal Questions-Gideon

Gideon Vance had faced hostile senators.

He had faced angry crowds.

He had stood before millions of people and announced decisions that could change the lives of entire communities.

He had negotiated with people who wanted something from him badly enough to threaten him for it.

He had been questioned by journalists who had spent months researching his life, searching for weaknesses, contradictions, mistakes, scandals.

None of that made him nervous.

But as he walked into the small interview room that morning and saw Rin Tanaka sitting across from an empty chair, Gideon felt something he couldn’t quite explain.

It wasn’t nervousness.

He refused to call it that.

It was awareness.

Rin looked up.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

Rin stood.

“Mr. President.”

Gideon extended his hand.

“Rin.”

The journalist’s fingers slipped into his.

Warm.

Small.

Firm.

“Thank you for agreeing to this.”

“I agreed to ten questions.”

Rin’s lips curved slightly.

“Only ten.”

“That’s what I was told.”

“And if I ask an eleventh?”

Gideon looked at him.

“Then I’ll decide whether you’ve earned an answer.”

Rin smiled.

There it was again.

That smile.

Quiet.

Almost innocent.

But Gideon had already learned not to mistake Rin’s softness for weakness.

They sat.

The cameras began recording.

The room became silent.

Rin looked directly at him.

“This interview is different from the first one.”

“Yes.”

“Today, we’re not talking about policy.”

“I noticed.”

“We’re talking about you.”

Gideon’s jaw tightened slightly.

Rin noticed.

Of course he did.

“Are you ready?”

Gideon leaned back.

“Ask your questions.”

Rin nodded.

And began.

⸻

Question One

Camille Laurent

Rin glanced briefly at his notes.

“You were engaged to Camille Laurent for two years.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve now ended that engagement.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Gideon expected the question.

He had been asked some version of it since the announcement.

But Rin wasn’t asking about the announcement.

He was asking him.

Gideon folded his hands.

“Because I came to the conclusion that continuing the engagement would be dishonest.”

“Dishonest to whom?”

“To both of us.”

Rin studied him.

“Was there ever love between you?”

Gideon paused.

That question was more difficult.

“No.”

The answer came quietly.

Rin didn’t look surprised.

“Never?”

“We respected each other.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Gideon looked directly into his eyes.

“No. There was never love.”

The room became very quiet.

Rin lowered his notes.

“So why did you stay engaged for two years?”

Gideon exhaled slowly.

“Because sometimes people remain in situations longer than they should.”

“Because of your families?”

“Partly.”

“Politics?”

Gideon didn’t answer immediately.

Then—

“Politics was certainly a factor.”

Rin nodded.

“So the engagement was political?”

“Not entirely.”

“But politics played a role.”

“Yes.”

“How large a role?”

Gideon’s eyes hardened.

“Large enough.”

Rin held his gaze.

He didn’t push.

Not yet.

“Thank you.”

Gideon knew immediately that Rin had deliberately left the question unfinished.

And somehow, that was worse than pressing him.

⸻

Question Two

The Vance Family

Rin moved to his second question.

“Your family is one of the most powerful political families in America.”

“I know.”

“Do you think you would be president today if your last name weren’t Vance?”

Gideon leaned back.

“Probably not.”

Rin’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

“That’s an unusually honest answer.”

“Why?”

“Most politicians would say they earned everything themselves.”

“I did earn my career.”

“But?”

“But I would be lying if I said my family name didn’t open doors.”

Gideon looked toward the camera.

“My family gave me access. Education. Networks. Opportunities. They taught me politics from childhood.”

He looked back at Rin.

“But they couldn’t vote for me.”

Rin nodded.

“Do you feel indebted to your family?”

Gideon was silent.

“Sometimes.”

“Do you feel obligated to continue the Vance legacy?”

Another pause.

“Yes.”

Rin’s voice softened.

“Even when you don’t want to?”

Gideon’s expression changed almost imperceptibly.

“Sometimes.”

Rin didn’t miss it.

“Is that why you stayed with Camille?”

Gideon looked at him.

“For some of the same reasons.”

⸻

Question Three

The Marriage You Were Supposed to Have

Rin placed his notes on his lap.

“Your family expected you to marry Camille.”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever want to marry her?”

Gideon stared at him.

“I wanted to want to.”

Rin went still.

For the first time during the interview, he seemed genuinely caught off guard.

Gideon continued.

“There is a difference.”

“Explain it.”

“When you’re raised to believe something is expected of you, sometimes you convince yourself that wanting it is the same thing as wanting what you actually want.”

Rin’s eyes remained on him.

“So you convinced yourself.”

“Yes.”

“Did Camille know?”

“She knew.”

“She knew you didn’t love her?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did she stay?”

“Because she understood the arrangement.”

Rin frowned slightly.

“That sounds incredibly lonely.”

Gideon looked at him.

“It was.”

The answer came before he could stop it.

Rin didn’t speak.

Gideon realized what he had admitted.

He looked away.

⸻

Question Four

Love

Rin waited several seconds before continuing.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Gideon’s expression became unreadable.

“Yes.”

Rin blinked.

He hadn’t expected the answer.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“With Camille?”

“No.”

“Who?”

Gideon looked at him.

“That’s private.”

Rin nodded.

“Was it serious?”

“At the time.”

“What happened?”

“It ended.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn’t possible.”

Rin studied him.

“Was the person politically unsuitable?”

“No.”

“Family?”

“No.”

“Did you end it?”

Gideon paused.

“Yes.”

“Do you regret it?”

His eyes moved toward the window.

“Sometimes.”

Rin was silent for a moment.

Then he asked quietly,

“Do you still love that person?”

Gideon’s jaw tightened.

“I don’t know.”

That answer surprised even him.

⸻

Question Five

The Man Behind the President

Rin turned another page.

“Who is Gideon Vance when the cameras are off?”

Gideon almost smiled.

“You’ve asked me that before.”

“Your answer wasn’t very satisfying.”

“What did I say?”

“That you were still learning.”

“I still am.”

“At thirty-five?”

“Especially at thirty-five.”

Rin smiled faintly.

“Do you ever feel like you’re playing a role?”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed.

“Every day.”

“Even now?”

“Especially now.”

“Being president?”

“Being Gideon Vance.”

Rin was quiet.

Gideon continued.

“My entire life, people have known what I was supposed to become.”

“And what were you supposed to become?”

“A leader.”

“You became one.”

“Yes.”

“But?”

Gideon looked at him.

“But sometimes I wonder whether anyone ever asked what I wanted.”

Rin’s expression softened.

“Did you?”

Gideon shook his head.

“Not until recently.”

⸻

Question Six

His Parents

Rin’s next question came more carefully.

“Do you think your parents are disappointed in you?”

Gideon didn’t answer immediately.

“My father?”

“Both.”

“My mother is disappointed in my decisions.”

“And your father?”

“My father is disappointed that I don’t make the decisions he would make.”

Rin smiled faintly.

“That’s different.”

“Very.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my father.”

Rin nodded.

“So his approval matters.”

“Of course it matters.”

“Even now?”

Gideon looked at him.

“Being president doesn’t stop you from being someone’s son.”

That sentence remained in the room.

Rin looked down briefly.

Then back up.

“Do you think you’ll ever live a life your parents didn’t choose for you?”

Gideon breathed slowly.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to?”

Another pause.

“Yes.”

It was the clearest answer he had given all morning.

⸻

Question Seven

Loneliness

Rin’s voice became softer.

“You’re surrounded by people every day.”

“Yes.”

“Advisers. Security. Family. Senators. Staff. Foreign leaders.”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever feel alone?”

Gideon looked at him.

“Yes.”

“How often?”

“More than people would imagine.”

“Why?”

“Because being surrounded by people isn’t the same as being known by them.”

Rin became still.

Gideon continued.

“Most people know what I represent.”

His eyes lowered briefly.

“Very few know me.”

Rin asked,

“Do you want someone to know you?”

Gideon looked directly at him.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

Gideon didn’t answer.

Rin waited.

Gideon finally said,

“Someone who doesn’t need anything from me.”

Rin’s expression changed.

“That’s difficult for someone like you.”

“I know.”

“Because everyone needs something from the president.”

“Exactly.”

Rin looked down at his notes.

Then asked quietly,

“Do you think you know what it’s like to be loved without being useful?”

Gideon’s breathing changed.

Only slightly.

But Rin saw it.

Gideon didn’t answer.

⸻

Question Eight

The Private Man

Rin didn’t push immediately.

He allowed the silence to remain.

Then—

“When was the last time you were genuinely happy?”

Gideon stared at him.

He had expected difficult questions.

He hadn’t expected that one.

“Happy?”

“Yes.”

Gideon thought.

Really thought.

His childhood came first.

His grandmother’s house.

His grandfather’s study.

Summer evenings.

His mother laughing in the kitchen.

His father teaching him how to read political newspapers before he was old enough to understand them.

Harvard.

His first Senate victory.

The night he won the presidency.

Thousands of people chanting his name.

None of it felt like the right answer.

“I don’t know.”

Rin’s expression softened.

“You don’t remember?”

“I remember many moments when I was proud.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No.”

“Do you think you’re happy now?”

Gideon looked down.

“No.”

The answer was quiet.

Honest.

Painfully honest.

Rin didn’t smile.

He didn’t look triumphant.

He simply nodded.

“Thank you.”

Gideon looked at him.

For some reason, that simple acknowledgment felt more intimate than sympathy would have.

⸻

Question Nine

What He Wants

Rin turned to the ninth question.

“If you could have one thing that had absolutely nothing to do with politics, power, money, your family, or your position—what would you choose?”

Gideon stared at him.

“One thing?”

“One.”

He thought about it.

The answer should have been simple.

Peace.

Privacy.

Freedom.

Love.

But he didn’t know.

“I’d choose a normal life.”

Rin blinked.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“What does normal mean to you?”

Gideon looked toward the window.

“Being able to walk into a restaurant without security.”

Rin smiled.

“Okay.”

“Taking a vacation without people knowing where I am.”

“Understandable.”

“Coming home and knowing the person waiting for me is there because they want to be.”

Rin stopped smiling.

Gideon realized how personal that sounded.

But he continued.

“Not because of my last name.”

He looked back at Rin.

“Not because of my position.”

“Because they want you.”

“Yes.”

Rin was quiet.

Then he asked,

“Do you think you deserve that?”

Gideon looked at him for a long moment.

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve spent most of my life being told what I deserve.”

“And what do you think you deserve?”

Gideon’s eyes stayed on his.

“That’s the question I’m still trying to answer.”

⸻

Rin closed his notebook.

Gideon immediately knew.

The interview was ending.

Ten questions.

That was the agreement.

But Rin didn’t stand.

He simply sat there.

Looking at him.

Gideon waited.

Then Rin spoke.

“One last question.”

Gideon’s eyebrow lifted.

“We agreed to ten.”

“I know.”

“That’s not ten.”

“No.”

Rin’s voice was calm.

“But this one matters.”

Gideon watched him carefully.

“What is it?”

Rin hesitated.

For the first time during the entire interview, he looked nervous.

Then he asked.

⸻

Question Ten

The Question Nobody Expected

“Are you gay?”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

The camera continued recording.

Gideon didn’t move.

He didn’t blink.

He simply stared at Rin.

The question wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t accusatory.

It wasn’t sensational.

It was simply there.

Waiting.

Gideon could feel something inside him tighten.

Not anger.

Not exactly.

Something much more complicated.

Rin watched him carefully.

Gideon looked toward the camera.

Then back at Rin.

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Because people are asking.”

“People ask a lot of things.”

“They do.”

“And you decided to ask me.”

“Yes.”

Gideon leaned back.

His expression became completely controlled.

“I’ve never had a relationship with a man.”

Rin didn’t interrupt.

“I’ve only ever been in relationships with women.”

His voice was calm.

Measured.

Deliberate.

Rin watched him.

Gideon continued.

“My private life is my private life.”

Rin nodded slowly.

“Do you understand why people might ask?”

“Yes.”

“Because you’re thirty-five, unmarried, recently ended a political engagement, and you’ve spoken publicly about not knowing what kind of personal life you want.”

“I understand.”

“Does the question offend you?”

“No.”

“Then why won’t you answer it directly?”

Gideon’s eyes met his.

“Because not every question deserves an answer simply because people want one.”

Rin held his gaze.

For several seconds, neither man spoke.

Then Rin nodded.

“That’s fair.”

Gideon leaned forward slightly.

“And for the record—”

Rin looked at him.

Gideon’s voice remained even.

“I have never hidden behind a lie about my relationships.”

Rin didn’t say anything.

Gideon continued.

“I’ve dated women.”

He paused.

“I’ve loved women.”

Another pause.

“And whatever people choose to believe beyond that is their business.”

Rin slowly nodded.

“Understood.”

The room fell silent again.

Then Rin reached forward.

“That’s all.”

The cameras stopped.

The red light disappeared.

The interview was over.

But neither man moved.

Gideon remained seated.

Rin closed his notebook.

For a moment, their eyes met again.

Gideon had spent the entire interview answering questions he didn’t want to answer.

Yet somehow, the final question had been the easiest to answer and the most difficult to survive.

Because Rin hadn’t accused him.

Hadn’t cornered him.

Hadn’t tried to expose him.

He had simply asked.

And Gideon had realized something uncomfortable.

He trusted Rin enough to answer.

Not completely.

Not yet.

But enough.

Rin stood.

“Thank you for doing this.”

Gideon stood as well.

“Thank you.”

Rin extended his hand.

Gideon took it.

Their hands remained together for one second longer than necessary.

Neither acknowledged it.

Then Rin released him.

He walked toward the door.

Gideon watched him leave.

The door closed.

And for the first time since becoming president, Gideon Vance found himself sitting completely alone with a question he had refused to ask himself.

Not the question Rin had asked.

A different one.

Why had he cared so much about what Rin thought of his answer?