Chapter Text
19th June, 2025
It was the day of the Gwarko flyover bridge inauguration. Everyone knew, Cameras were flashing, A row of strong, political people in the front. But all KP could focus on was him, Prachanda.
Oh, great, how convenient. Of course, he's in the front row. He thought as he stared at him unconsciously, unable to take his eyes off him. Prachanda let out a small scoff. It was subtle, but he noticed.
Right as KP was about to cut the ribbon, A line of smoke came out, a dramatic entrance of...Donald Trump? Why was he here? This is Nepal.
He walked over, hands over his hips, as he stepped close to KP Oli, whispering something inaudible. KP's face visibly darkened.
"What? How did this happen?"
He was visibly frustrated, the ribbon fluttered in the wind, forgotten. "Deported!?? Where? When? Did I have a part in this?!" He said, his hand on pressed against his forehead.
Prachanda stood up. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew it was serious. Just as he was about to step in, Balen pulled up on his dozer.
"KP, I have something to say." He said dramatically, as if this were a theatre and not an inauguration. "I want to bring LOONA to Nepal."
"What are you saying? Whatever, bring them in, I have bigger problems to deal with," KP said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Whats the problem here?" Prachanda said, stepping in.
KP looked at Prachanda for a slight second. 'He's beautiful.. Fuck! What did I just..' He thought. Donald Trump told KP to hurry up. Prachanda was left all alone, looking visibly annoyed. "I was a politician too, I should be able to help!" and Balen said, "It's okay, son."
Prachanda gave Balen a weird look.
***
KP was showing Trump all the visas and documents of the poor deported people, and Trump didn't look interested at all. He told KP, "Get your folks out of my country. I don't want them illegally staying there."
Kp said, "You know it's not illegal. I'm showing you the documents."
Trump sternly replied, "No green card, no opinion."
KP sighed and said, "They just want an education, you know? But whatever, fuck them. They should've studied in Nepal in the first place."
Trump was about to say something, but was interrupted when he heard a sudden knock on the door.
"Hello, who is it?" said KP.
Prachanda opens the door. With a giggly face, he states, "Why'd you leave me there? I wanted to be a part of this, too!"
KP shakes his head, all flustered. "No, Prachanda, you're not.. Prime Minister anymore.. You can't."
"I can't even help? I heard you talking about students not wanting to study in Nepal," he says, with a smile. "I hope you're aware they think the education here is ass."
"Don't use that word," said KP..
Prachanda giggled a little, "You said 'fuck' as well," and looked at Donald Trump. "And you, don't say that! Our education's not that bad." He giggled again.
Trump stared at Prachanda in shock. Not the "Oh my god!" kind, the type that just leaves you in awe. "Even you can't believe your country's education is good. So, please, get your broke people out of my country."
Prachanda looked visibly mad. KP looked around, feeling a sense of tension in the room, because obviously there was. "Okaay.. maybe we should stop this..? It doesn't matter, what matters is you're being a racist freak!" he said, directly looking at Trump.
"Okay, listen, orange man, you're acting as if your people don't shoot innocent kids every other day. And KP, dear, keep quiet, please. I beg you," Prachanda said calmly.
Then, turning to KP, he added, "We need to take control of this narrative together."
KP nodded thoughtfully, "Right. If we present a united front, maybe we can appeal to something more human in him. He cares about appearances."
Prachanda put his hands on his hips, "Exactly! If we emphasize the stories behind those deported, I bet he'll listen. The media might even pick it up."
KP glanced at Trump, who looked impatient. "Mr. Trump," he said, gathering his composure, "Before you write anyone off, can we discuss the contributions Nepalese students have made while studying in the U.S.?"
Trump raised an eyebrow, his interest slightly piqued. "Go on," he said, crossing his arms.
Prachanda jumped in, "Many of them are top performers, and their knowledge could benefit both countries. Investing in their education can foster long-term relationships, not just in business but culturally as well!"
KP added, “Educating them in Nepal isn't just about keeping them here; it's about giving them the chance to contribute to our economy and yours.”
Trump’s expression softened a bit, but he remained skeptical. “So you want me to trust that they'll come back? What’s in it for me?”
Prachanda exchanged a glance with KP and replied, “We can create an exchange program. Your country benefits by fostering goodwill. You give them the chance, and in return, you gain allies.”
Trump pondered for a moment, the room tense. Finally, he shrugged, “I’ll think about it, but don’t count on any favors. You both need to convince me more than words.”
Prachanda smiled, “That’s a start, at least.”
KP let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Alright then, we’ll set up a meeting soon. We have a lot more to discuss.”
As they spoke, there was an undercurrent of tension between KP and Prachanda. They looked at each other directly, and it surely wasn't clear if it was love or hatred. Maybe both, or maybe not.
***
KP let out a sigh, "Fucking hell. Oh my god, why was he even here? What in the world was he thinking, barging in like that?" He rolled his chair back, frustration radiating from him like heat from a furnace. His butler, Mr. Maharjan, asked him, "Sir, who are you talking about..?"
"It's nobody. Just leave it, I'm babbling again. Get me a cup of tea. Quick. Raspberry, by the way." He said, sounding frustrated.
"Who is LOONA, and how do I get them here? What is Balen Sir on..?" He went on his computer, searched them up, and sighed really loudly, yet again. "They're not even together anymore. What does he even want me to do..?"
Getting up from his chair, his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket. It was a Pathao notification. He sighed, because he longed for it to be somebody else. Somebody he shouldn't be wanting to talk to.