You're someone you're not

*three days later*
I was wearing a black button up and a red tie laying on my hotel room floor scared shitless. My finger nails were bleeding from me picking at them. Tonight was the night. The night I eat at the White House. So yeah I missed the protest. I didn't not want to go but... You know I'm meeting with the president and stuff. I totally feel bad if that means anything.
fuck it! I pulled out the small half pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and walked out to the balcony. I puffed gingerly on the cancer stick. My ma would kill me. Just as I thought that someone knocked on the door.
" Sh-shit" I quickly put out the cigarette.
" Um hi?" I opened the door expecting a limo driver. But I was suprized.
" Geebear look at you! Your hair is so greasy! You can't see the presedent like this! And don't pretend I can't smell that smoke." My mom pushed through the door. Mikey on her heels.
" You look like shit," mikey added as he walked through the door.
" Mikey! Language!" My mom flicked Mikey's head.
" Why are you here?!?" I asked.
" Oh dear you need a shower, we will talk about it later" my ma said ushering me to the tiny bathroom.
* an hour later*
" look at my handsome son!" She gushed. Mikey rolled his eyes. He was at the tv searching for the playboy channel.
"MA!" I swatted her hands away from my cheeks before she could squeez them. She's a squeezer.
there was a knock at the door.
i felt like I was going to throw up.
" Ok sweetie use your manners ok?" My mom messed with my hair a little bit more before I opened the door.
" Mr way?" A suit guy asked. I nodded.
" Bye mikey," I called at my brother.
" Uh..?" I guess he found it.
" Ok let's go," I turned to the suit guy.
" Are you ready to meet the presedent of the United States of America" he asked opening my door.
" no,"

Notes

Sorry for never updating I'm a bitch.