Prologue: Make War, Not Love

In the year 2045, the U.S. has officially entered World War 3. After their husbands are drafted overseas, five women are placed into a support group, since drafts haven't been a thing since the 70s.

"Good afternoon, everyone! I am here to inform the public about some major event taking place in our fair country. Our spies have discovered that Russia and North Korea have teamed up with all existing third-world/developing countries and provided them with large stashes of nuclear weaponry. Subsequently, all countries who were given such weapons have now partnered together and are launching an all-out assault on everyone else in the world! Unfortunately, because former president Enrique Gonzalez did such a terrible job with the military, there will be a major draft in America for the first time in roughly a century.

Every man between the ages of eighteen and sixty-five, provided they meet the requirements, will be mandated by law to serve our country, while any woman between those ages will be given a choice to serve or not. This executive order by our current president will remain in effect until the worldwide threat has been taken care of. On the bright side, though, this will be the first time we get to test out the nuclear bullet, invented by our very own Xavier P. Cedric. Good day!"

That is the exact message broadcast to the entire country one fateful day in early January of 2045. A message so important that it interrupts whatever show is on each television, whether it be football, a soap opera, or a sitcom. And as one would expect, a feeling of mass alarm and outrage is quick to spread throughout the United States. What could this war mean for the country's future? And how will everyone at home be affected by the absence of their loved ones?

Just days later, there is still no sign of a definitive answer to either of those questions as everyone currently enlisted prepares to travel overseas for who knows how long, saying their last goodbyes to any family and friends they might have all the while. Unsurprisingly, the crowds of people not boarding the outgoing boats and planes consist mostly of women, many of which are married and at a relatively young age.

Due to all this, there has been a special program set up to help all these women cope with their husbands' absence. The immense crowds have been split up into countless small groups, who are required to share their contact information amongst themselves and attend meetings over in Hartford, Connecticut every few months or so in order to catch up with each other and maybe even offer some assistance for any problems that may arise.

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Our tale begins on the day of the great military exodus, and will focus on one particular group, consisting of five women each from a different walk of life. First, there's Katrina Vicciotelli, a tall, well-endowed Italian-American with a jet-black beehive and avocado-green eyes, who is steadily approaching the middle age. She just so happens to be the wealthiest woman in the country, no thanks to her marriage to business tycoon Mark Simmons.

Nation-renowned lawyer Roxanne Romano is up next, diminutive and curvy, with platinum-blonde highlights and heterochromic eyes. She is of a similar heritage to Katrina, but speaks in an unorthodox hybrid between Brooklyn and New Orleans accents. And then we have Rosemary Sterling, a young, blonde, slightly chubby Southerner with a perky temperament to match her bust, often seen wearing tight tops that hardly cover her gut.

Danielle MacGuire is a bespectacled and somewhat coquettish insurance agent with a copper skin tone, no thanks to her half-Bengali background, though her distinctive azure eyes come from her Caucasian father. And finally, there's Tequila Rodriguez, an attractive bestselling author who is of Chilean descent, but has a very Irish appearance, no thanks to a bunch of recessive genes from a man who raped one of her ancestors. Unsurprisingly, this makes her stick out like a sore pinky in every family photo.

All of the women in this group are connected in some way. Roxanne has been friends with Katrina since they were minors, has acted as a lawyer for both Rosemary and Tequila, and knows Danielle through the latter's husband, Blake Frost, who is her insurance agent. In addition, Rosemary is married to Katrina's son, thus making them in-laws, and Katrina knows Tequila through her own husband... who happens to own the company where Danielle and her husband work. The group's organizer claims that this specific setup was purely random and unintentional, but none of the members can shake the feeling of the contrary.

At the moment, the very first group meeting is in session as the organizer, old yet coiffed and lively, stands in the center of the small room as everyone else sits around her in fold-up chairs, munching on refreshments and listening to her go over the program's details for what feels like the millionth time in one day.

"So this hotel has been booked for at least the whole year so we can hold these meetings in its many conference rooms," the organizer explains. "I trust you all can find your way here easily?"

All five women nod in reply, some of them not even looking up from their smartphone or plate of refreshments. Curiously, aside from Roxanne, the group does not seem terribly saddened at the fact that their husbands are no longer present.

"Good, good. Now then, I would recommend that you all plan your trips out here in advance, so that way you can minimize the amount of times you show up late or don't make it. Though of course, you are welcome to skip out if you have a valid reason to, such as a family emergency," the organizer continues.

"Ugh, it's like sitting through that lecture on the Gonzalez administration again!" Tequila breaks the silence. "We get it. There's some bad stuff going on that we should know about, but why force us to attend this support group? You act like this is the twenties, where women couldn't do much and were expected to always obsess over their husbands."

There are a few grunts of agreement from almost everyone else in the room, with Roxanne remaining dead silent.

"And you act as though I'm the one who started this program, when I'm not," the organizer replies. "All we're trying to do is make it so you all can adjust to this new lifestyle as easily as possible. After all, such an experience is completely foreign to your generation. Hell, my generation was the last one that had to go through this."

"Well okay, but if we have to meet up, why can't it just be a group-chat, or a conference call, or somethin'?" Rosemary asks, speaking in a delicate backwoods drawl. "I mean, we did just exchange our numbers and emails and whatnot."

"Yeah, because we all got lives outside of our marriages, and we can't always just fly out here at a moment's notice," Katrina adds in a strong Brooklyn dialect.

"Well like I said before, you're welcome to opt out of a meeting if you can't make it," the organizer responds. "Now. Any last questions before we all part ways for now?"

Her question is met with a chorus of "nope"s, with Roxanne once again not speaking.

"Alrighty then. I'll see you in three months!" the organizer puts on a smile as everyone stands up and leaves. "And remember: you're always welcome to contact each other at any time between meetings! Please don't be afraid to do that!"