It was the first warm day of June, the first one which actually felt like summer. Even though the sunset was well underway, the temperature was still over 15 degrees. That was certainly a relief for Brynn, given her attire.
It had been two years since she'd finished law school, but she remembered the university campus like the back of her hand. The paved paths wound like snakes between a mix of old and new buildings, but Brynn didn't take a single wrong turn. It proved a handy shortcut to get back to her apartment, even though she was irked by the catcalls drunken students made as she hurried past.
It was her fault, really. She had lingered too long at Comic-Con with her friends. They'd had a blast getting dressed up, getting high, and enjoying their anonymity. Brynn in particular had appreciated the latter. It had been one of the longest two weeks of her life, and she needed a breather from all the politicking and campaigning.
The shiny Batwoman costume clung to her body as she hurried along. Her black cape swished and flapped against her as she walked. She'd modelled her long brown curls around Javicia Leslie's look on the show. The black and red of the costume seemed to elevate the caramel shade of her skin.
She was still feeling the effects of the edible as she walked along, relieved that she wasn't the only cosplayer walking through the campus. Other girls had worn more revealing costumes, so she managed to elude most of the attention. It didn't hurt that she was taller than average and a former athlete in school.
Her mom had suggested she move back into the family home while she was helping with the campaign, but Brynn had finally moved out six months before and she was finally feeling some margin of independence. She could understand why her mom had asked. The by-election was not going to be an easy one for Annelies Tillens.
It had been her party, the NDP, which had held this seat for the last five years. They hadn't won it with a wide majority in the first place, and now their support was lower than ever. The outgoing MP had been forced to resign after he, a married man, had been outed as a serial cheater. The scandal had been a godsend for the PPC.
Nobody would have ever imagined that the PPC of all goddamn parties would have surged so thoroughly in the polls. But Conservative voters were shifting further right, and Claude Waggoner had driven more people in that direction. Brynn's mother, Annelies, had seized the chance to run as Waggoner's replacement. Nobody in the NDP envied her chances.
Brynn hated that it had to be this way. Her mother had spent so long grinding away to break into politics. Brynn might not have agreed with Annelies' decision, but she could understand why. When else would she get the chance? Brynn couldn't say anything except promise that she'd help her mom get elected.
This had been a much-needed day off from all the fundraising, posters, speeches, events, scheduling, organizing, all of it. For once she didn't have to put on a brave face and speak so positively about her mom's dying campaign. Annelies was too proud and too stubborn to see the truth. No, she was fighting a good fight, and she was being brave. And if she needed another reason why she wanted her mom to win, it was to put Warren Hayes in his place.
She wouldn't have thought he was hard to beat. Warren had been a PC party member for the first two decades of his political career, and had served as the Minister of the Solicitor General. According to Annelies, Warren had run for the leadership of his party five times and had failed each time. He was too boorish, too bullying, and too blunt, even for his fellow conservatives to stomach. But he'd developed a following, especially in the rise of right wing populism. He'd abandoned the Conservatives with gusto and joined the fledgeling provincial branch of the PPC. Brynn didn't doubt that the party had practically draped the leadership sash on his neck on the day he first arrived.
Annelies had plenty of stories about Warren. They had regularly crossed paths ever since she'd become a politician. They had clashed on practically everything, and now that Brynn was helping out with the campaign, she could understand why Annelies spoke of him with such loathing. Losing to him would surely break her, and Brynn was determined to help her mom win.
But for now, her main goal was to get back to her apartment before she got too high. She'd foolishly taken another edible when she'd left Comic Con, forgetting that she couldn't put her faith in the bus system. Now, after more than forty minutes of waiting at bus stops and storming off after too many car honks, she was finally nearing her home. But to do it she'd had to cut through her old university, and she was furious about it.
Warren Hayes was a longtime alumnus and supporter of the university. Due to his military record and position as a government official, he had been invited as a guest speaker at several events when Brynn was a student. She had attended each one and booed him with gusto. Once, during her last year of law school, he had seemed to see her and given a familiar smirk. She had often wondered if he'd recognised her.
Now, the university was holding a prestigious charity event, and Warren had been invited as one of the guests of honour. She had no wish to see him, especially while she was dressed the way she was.
The problem was that the gala event was being held in the main hall. It was a huge building which was a ghastly blend of classical and modern architecture. Brynn made a left turn and tried to walk around the hall, skirting the main entrance to go down the shadowed alley between the main hall and the Smit-Vanger Residence building.
Even from outside, Brynn could hear the crowd inside. There must be over a thousand people in there, she thought to herself. She wondered how many of them would vote for Warren, to the point that she lost track of where she was walking. Therefore, it was a shock to her when she bumped into someone else.
"Watch it!"
Brynn gaped; the man had his back turned, but she recognised that voice immediately.
Warren Hayes turned around and stared at her, equally taken aback for a moment. Then he frowned and peered forward. "Wait... I know you."
Brynn felt her skin crawl with with contempt as she took a half-step backward. Warren Hayes was fifty-six years old, but he looked ten years younger. He had always been vain about his appearance; he kept himself physically fit and bragged about his training regimen whenever he had the chance. He also bragged about how he'd almost gotten drafted into the NHL as a young man, but Brynn didn't know if that was true.
"You don't." Brynn cursed herself. She should have just pushed past him and walked away. But now she'd talked; she still had a South African accent, just like her mother. Annelies was a white Afrikaner whose family had a history of protesting against the apartheid regime. Moreover, Brynn's father had been a mixed race politician in Nelston Mandela's government, hence her own mottled background.
No sooner had she spoken than Warren realised who she was. His eyebrows shot upwards and he gave a burst of laughter.
"Are you serious?" He looked her up and down as she folded his arms. "Brynn Tillens? What the fuck are you doing?"
"I was at Comic Con," Brynn began to explain, but Warren interrupted her.
"My fucking god, of course you pick that costume of all costumes." He shook his head. "I almost didn't recognise it, to be honest. How long did that show last again?"
"Longer than you've been party leader," Brynn snapped, "Enjoy it while it lasts!"
If anything, that only amused Warren even more. "Bold talk coming from you! How many times is your mom gonna ignore the truth? Nobody wants her!"
Brynn felt herself getting hot with anger beneath her costume. The pot in her system was amplifying her senses, as well as making her brain go haywire at the worst time.
"You have no idea what you're talking about!" She folded her arms, refusing to walk away without getting the last word.
