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  • Writer's pictureHenry Cavanaugh

The American Dream

Updated: Dec 18, 2018

The world was becoming a pretty dreadful place. It was a sad truth that Chris had done his very best to deny because he didn’t consider himself the pessimistic type. He wanted to enjoy everything that life had to offer, the only issue was there was so little to be happy about when there was so much war and intolerance in the world.

With politicians deemed untrustworthy and class divides tearing people apart, all Chris wanted was a way to help bring people together. Movies could only do so much and he even though his position as an A-List actor provided him with quite a large amount of privilege, he felt like it simply wasn’t enough. To speak in the ‘corniest’ of terms, he wanted to be a force for good in the world and he just wasn’t sure what else he could really do to try and improve the current state of society.

The morning of July 4th found Chris feeling unusually sour at the prospect of partying the night away when there was clearly so much going wrong and nobody was addressing it. If he was going to make a statement then this seemed like the best day to do it, he simply didn’t know how to express his frustrations in a manner that would make people rally to his cause and kickstart the momentum that would lead to change for the better.

Washing his face after rising from bed, Chris was startled by the sudden absence of his beard which he had been scratching at during the short journey from his bed to the bathroom sink. Peering closer at his reflection, he was alarmed at how light his naturally dark hair was. In fact the longer he stared, the closer it looked to his usual Steve Rogers blond.

Steve Rogers. The name rung through Chris’ mind with more important than it had in a long time, as if he was hearing the name of a close friend that filled him with pride. Then again wasn’t it true that Captain America stood for everything Chris wanted his nation - and the world - to be? Fair and just, powerful and yet wise enough to know when to use that power. 

In many ways Captain America was the leader they all needed.

Dismissing the lighter appearance of his hair as either a trick of the light or his own tired eyes deceiving him, Chris opted to shower off the night’s sweat and grime. As he scrubbed his body clean though, he felt his muscles expand beneath his touch until he barely fit inside the shower he had once had no issues with. In fact he seemed to be several inches closer to the shower-head.

Running his hands over the abs that looked like they were cut from marble and massaging the snake that was his cock for several pleasurable minutes, Chris’ mind wandered off to his hopes for the future of his country - bright, kind and open to all people. A society of people who loved, cared for and respected each other no matter what.

Finally stepping out of the shower once he had relieved himself, Chris stepped back in front of the mirror to acknowledge his further changes. He now stood at an admirable six-foot-five, easily taller than his co-star Hemsworth, and his muscles were more pronounced than they had ever been. In fact even his jaw seemed squarer, highlighting just how masculine he was.

The peak of human condition, he remembered, smiling at his reflection. Just like the character he loved portraying so much. The character whose thoughts and memories were beginning to feel like his own with every passing second…

“My name is Chris Evans and I’m an actor,” he told his reflection, only to frown. It was strange but he couldn’t help but feel like he was lying. He certainly didn’t look or sound like he was telling the truth. Hadn’t his mother taught him that lying was bad? “My name is… my name is Chris Evans. Chris… Rogers. I’m an… I’m an actor… a soldier.”

Chris’ mind was suddenly at war with itself, doubting every thought that passed through it. Through all the chaos only one thing stood out - how ready he was to bring his nation into a proud new era of acceptance and love. America was going to show the world that it didn’t deserve its terrible reputation, even if he had to lead it to greatness himself.

It would make sense for him to do that, wouldn’t it? He was a national hero who had proven his commitment to his country and its citizens time and time again. In fact he could remember specific conversations about running for President but had refused to consider the notion. He wasn’t a politician, he was a soldier. He couldn’t just sit behind a desk and talk - that wasn’t who he was.

Who am I? Suddenly that question felt much more difficult to answer than it should have been. The part of his mind that had insisted he was Chris Evans, a successful actor and proud family man, seemed less sure of itself and there was a louder voice reassuring him of what had to be the truth.

“My name is Steve Rogers,” he announced, smiling proudly at his reflection as he finally accepted his true memories and thoughts, “My mother’s name was Sara, my best friend was Bucky Barnes and I will make America the land of the free once more!”

The life Steve had unknowingly once led as Hollywood actor Chris Evans faded away, replaced by a man who shared his face and noble ambitions but with a different method of making that change in the world. 

Grabbing his red-white-and-blue suit from the wardrobe, Steve pulled it on as quickly and efficiently as he did every day before grabbing his shield and flag. Independence Day was always one of the busiest days of his year and he was going to go out there and be the man that his country needed him to be. 

It would take time but he was going to make them see that good eventually did triumph over evil. All it needed was one man to kickstart the change and that was going to be him. After all, he was Captain America!

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