Without exception, every federal player who successfully stays on that stage, possesses an uncanny ability to set aside the human need to confess every sin, every transgression. Instead, we collect them. Secrets are the real information, the real currency of politics.

Political life seems so obvious, every appearance choreographed. Every speech crafted to hit a sweet spot for its audience. Every venue chosen to elicit a specific mention in the news. Every interview chosen, knowing point-of-view and tempering every answer… but this façade is deceptive.

Once the cameras are off, reporters notebooks stowed, the supporters depart to put up signs, the untrusted staff are tucked away in a safe location… the players find ways to reconnect with their own humanity. The high of witnessing, covering, and making history – real history – is deeply intoxicating. The appetite for weapons-grade relationships, sex, connection to another human being is unparalleled.

There is a sweetness to secrets, an underlying honesty because the moments are unrepeated and pure. Mystery dwells here – barriers isolate politicos from the outside but not from each other.

Attraction. Vetting. Temptation. The Quiet Flirt. A Wicked Insinuation. The Seduction. The Secret. We thrive on the intensity, the anticipation of consent. The palpable heat in a wanted kiss, passion-infused words written and unspoken, a glancing touch unseen by others that denotes the pleasure waiting… for consummation.

— Media Lizzy