So what? So what if Trystan picked the throne that betrayed him over him. So what if Trystan felt it was the right decision, he should’ve seen this coming a mile away. A pretty face and nice body is all Trystan was good for anyways. His detective work needed help, he was helpless, he weighed him down and made his life worse Charlie tried to reason with himself.

He breathes out heavily glancing at his phone that chimes insistently.

Ruby: Hi Charlie, I know you’re not okay. If you need anything please reach out. I feel like we're good friends now so I can say this and it is not weird. I care about you deeply. Luke and I will be here when or if you’re ready.

Marguerite: Charlie please come back to Drakovia. I can’t stand to see the way this is tearing you and my brother apart. You BELONG together. Please just let me know if you need help getting back into the country.

He laughs bitterly. Belongs together, my ass, he reads bitterly. He tosses his phone over his shoulder not wanting to waste his mental capacity reading mind numbing text he won’t reply to. He appreciates their concern, but he’s a lone wolf at the end of the day, he works, lives, and breathes on his own - he doesn’t need other people ruining his flow for no good reason. He doesn’t need a repeat of Trystan. He throws back a shot reaching for another bottle of whiskey, his current one having now been long downed.

He couldn’t care about the consequences or the stern talking to Tommy will give him in the morning. Tommy would understand, he rationalizes to himself, true or not. His chest felt like liquid fire, a burning sensation coating every muscle and fiber inside him. He downs the shot he just poured trying to rationalize in his head everything that happened tonight. A grimace passes his features, sucking down another shot. He couldn’t figure out how many he had at this point, one? Ten? Fifteen?

As he slams the shot glass against the table top he hears the creak of the door, instantly jumping to his feet pulling the taser from his waist hoisting it to aim at the shadow looking at him.

“Charlie?”

He softens for a split second hearing the tone of the shadow’s voice, his shoulders relaxing with comfort. He lowers the taser, his resolution toughening, squaring his shoulders. He clears his throat, setting the taser on the table, feeling nearly defiant or threatening towards one of the few men he’s ever truly loved. Love. He laughs to himself with a sigh shaking his head to himself. He falls into his chair ignoring Trystan’s presence, pouring himself another shot. He fills one of his empty shot glasses with a shot for his lover, the word once felt fulfilling and tantalizing now makes his chest feel devoid of emotion.

“Shot?” His voice was heavy with drunkenness.

“Sure,” He swallows heavily, his eyes traveling over Charlie’s form. He takes a moment to fall into the seat across from Charlie, drinking in the sight of his lover. His heart sinking deep into his chest, he feels it could fall out of his body as they speak. He forces a smile, the one that used to make Charlie melt and agree to whatever nonsense Trystan was about to rope him into. “You still look hot, jet lagged and all.”

“Ha.” Charlie replies sarcastically, “You look terrible.”

“Charlie…”

“Stop. Now.” Charlie brings his shot glass to his lips, his eyes intently staring at Trystan’s before swallowing down the drink with resentment. He coughs deep from within his chest, breathing out a deep breath before dropping the shot glass carelessly onto the table without much thought. He lets his head fall back with exhaustion, dragging in a deep breath before exhaling trying to calm himself down. “What are you doing here Trystan?”

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” Trystan asks with care.

Charlie laughs. And laughs. And laughs. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly, “You to stay in Drakovia with me.”

He snorts. “Give up my career for you to play king in a country that hates you, with family that betrays you and treats you like shit and not to mention tried to frame you for murder twice, for a crown you don’t even fucking want to wear. And that tried to poison me. Hard pass.”

“You don’t understand everything about me and my family, you of all people should know family is… difficult.” Trystan replies, he sighs resting his hand against his forehead. “I have an obligation to myself and to my country.”

“As if that’s ever stopped you before.” Charlie replies, “You ever stopped to care about your country the four years you ran away from home to prance around the world being an entitled dickwad?”

“It wasn’t like that and you know it, Charlie.” Trystan sighs, “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“You came here to beg me to come to Drakovia, it’s a wonderful country. You’ll love it. You can be a king with me. We can live happily ever after. Grow the fuck up Trystan. Happily ever after doesn’t fucking exist and you know it. You wasted your time coming here. Call Margurite, get your private jet ready, and go the fuck home.”

Trystan tries to hide the hurt that ripples across his features, his caring smile now a thin line of regret. He wanted to conclude that he shouldn’t have come. He knew Charlie wouldn’t give up the life he lives and he knew Charlie would be brutal; despite it all it’s one of the things he loves most about Charlie. He still can’t force himself to truly, fully regret coming. He wants more than anything to take away the hurt and pain in Charlie’s chest knowing he caused it and there would be no easy way to fix it between them.

He reaches out his hand taking Charlie’s, seeing a flash of pain and love crossing Charlie’s handsome features, making his heartache fiercely in his chest. His finger soothes back and forth against smooth skin, trying to lull him into calming down. Charlie fights to hold back tears, his body on the verge of shaking with sobs he refuses to let out of his bloodshot misty eyes watching Trystan cautiously.

Charlie fights himself to pull away from the comforting warmth of Trystan’s touch. He has flashbacks to the night he left, watching Trystan pull away and detach himself from him. The curves of his body and his firm abs under his fingers as he longingly tries to capture the feeling of heat rushing through his body. His heart burns in his chest, the ache that felt as horrendous earlier felt even worse now with the love of his life holding him. He wants to kiss his stupid face, hold him in his arms, deck him, cry, anything really. Anything to let out the feelings corrupting his brain, burying his heart in a pit of darkness.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Trystan whispers, letting himself move closer to Charlie, remaining a safe distance away to not overwhelm his lover. His fingers tighten around Charlie’s hand to help him steady himself, watching the way his chest rises and falls. “I’m sorry too.”

“I just don’t understand why.” Charlie whispers. “We’re partners. We have a crew. A home. Our home. Our lives.”

Trystan’s heart shudders in his chest, thinking of his apartment building decked out memories of their time together. Their love and life. He moves to sit beside Charlie, reaching out with his free hand to cup his lover’s cheek with a sad smile. His fingers are warm against his skin, he wants to remember this feeling until he dies. The warmth that radiates off skin and the way that despite himself, Charlie still nuzzles against his hand like he always has.

“I love you, you know that. It’s not easy for me to let go of everything we made.”

“Love isn’t enough. I can’t move with you.” Charlie sighs. “I have Tommy. The team. A life here. A life that you promised to be in forever. It’s not fair of you to ask me to give up everything..and it’s even less fair of me to ask you to do the same.”

“We can move the crew to Drakovia, start it up here. And Tommy would love it here, we can get him a pub, decorate it the way he wants.” Trystan grins, his mind booming with ideas of a handful of American’s in a sea of Drakovia citizens. “It would be life changing for all of us.”

“No.” Charlie sighs shaking his head, “This building means something. You can’t just take the Drunk Tank to Drakovia for the fun of it. And our team has roots here, Mafalda has a family. Luke has family. Ruby does. It’s not that simple.”

Trystan shakes his head standing in front of Charlie, his hands cupping the detective’s cheeks forcing him to look him in the eyes. His finger dragging along Charlie’s lower lip, toying with his lips trying to force them upwards into a smile. Charlie can’t help the melting of his anger, his heart yearning to drop everything for Trystan knowing it's unfeasible. He casts his eyes downwards forcing himself to look away from the intensity of Trystan’s gaze.

“It’s that simple for us.” Trystan whispers, letting his face come closer to Charlie’s, feeling one another’s breath on each other’s cool skin in the air conditioned bar fighting off the New York heat. “Picking us is always easy. Come with me. Run away from this. Enjoy the finer things of life. We can make memories, have a family, and find ourselves. And have so much sex.”

They both laugh sadly at his words.

“I can’t leave my dad behind Trystan.”

“You’re not leaving him.” Trystan quickly replies, “We can solve it from Drakovia. And you can visit New York whenever you want. We have jets, money, and our entire lives to figure everything out.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head no. His hands tightening around Trystan’s, the prince’s grip tightening back as tears fill his eyes. He knew deep down Charlie would say no, but everything inside him screamed that maybe he wouldn’t, that he’d give them a chance. He brings his lips to Charlie’s, taking his breath away as they both meld into one another. Hands moving to grip onto each other tighter, Trystan’s arms strongly bracing the both of them against the table.

Gasping for breath, Charlie breaks their heated kisses. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to feel Trystan’s body against his fingertips and his lips until he dies. He wants the last thing he ever tastes to be the prince’s lips, the last smell he ever smells to be Trystan’s colonge. He draws his fingers down Trystan’s chest, his fingers brushing under the fabric of his signature black button up shirt, the buttons popping open with each movement. He moves his lips to Trystan’s chin, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin. Delighting in each moan that Trystan lets out.

His teeth nip sweetly at the prince’s pulse point, soothing over the skin with his tongue. His saliva warms against Trystan’s cool skin, his teeth prod and poke at the flesh, Trystan’s moans filling the bar with country music dancing in their ears.

“So this is it then?” Charlie whispers against his skin, almost too silent for the both of them to hear. His lips find purchase against Trystan’s collarbone making him moan out loudly, his hands tightening in Charlie’s hair. “We’re done then?”

“I guess so.” Trystan replies, breathing out heavily as the detective continues to pepper kisses against his skin. He wants to say more, his mind heavy with lust blinded by his desire and the hurt in his chest unable to fully form into words. He breathes out heavily as Charlie pulls away from him looking at him. Eyes that once burned with hatred, now overflow with love as they both hesitate to say anything to officially end it.

“I love you Trystan Throne.” He whispers softly. Charlie kisses him sweetly one last time on the lips, short and sweet. The feeling went away all too soon. “I’m sorry, but this is my home. And I can’t leave until I figure out what happened to my dad.”

“I understand. You can’t run away like I did.” He nods understandingly, “I love you Charlie Rose.”

He sighs heavily.

“Goodbye Trystan Thorne.”

“Goodbye Charlie Rose.”

Trystan takes one last glance at his lover before turning to leave the bar. His heart heavy in his chest, burning to soothe the ache. Leave his family and throne behind for the one man who ever loved him, saw him for who he was, believed in him, made him his partner. His whole world is sitting in this bar about to drink himself to death. He pushes open the door looking back to see Charlie one last time before accepting their fate. He hesitates… his hand holding the door finding Charlie’s eyes in the darkness, the both unable to move knowing they were each other’s forever.

Could they really let each other go?

Could he live with himself after walking out on another lover?

Could he find true happiness with a crown atop his head and his family breathing down his neck pulling him in every direction?

His footsteps are loud as he crosses the auditorium stage, nearly echoing with each movement. He scans around for any sign of Axel in the soft darkness with most of the stage lights being out it’s hard to see clearly. He knows Axel should be here, he was meant to be rehearsing a few scenes with Rory and their other co-lead. He frowns to himself again, starting to worry about what might’ve happened to Axel.

As he pulls out his phone to call Axel, he hears a soft sniffling sound from around the corner at the back of the stage. Michael raises an eyebrow as he edges closer to the noise hoping not to startle whoever’s there and invade their privacy, he might be arrogant but he’s not an asshole. Normally, Michael wouldn’t care about some random dude crying in an auditorium. This would be more of Axel’s scope of knowledge, but on the off chance it was Axel, he didn’t want to regret walking away leaving his boyfriend to cry by himself.

Coming around the corner he finds Axel with his knees pulled to his chest, tears leaking down his cheeks, trying his hardest not to sniffle loudly. His face angled in a way to try and hide the fact he was crying. Michael’s heart shatters in his chest, not missing a single beat as he rushes forward pressing a hand to Axel’s back to comfort him. His movements deliberately as comforting as possible.

“Sunshine, it’s okay. I’m here.” His voice soothing as he runs his hand up and down his red and white Berry High Senior Year t-shirt that Axel wore. The fabric is soft to the touch;the two of them have matching shirts thanks to Mr LaHart, Axel’s dad, who bought them the t-shirts. Michael always thought Axel wore it better. Both boys now in their senior year of high school, their entire future staring down at them. “Shhh. You’re okay.”

Michael’s other arm wraps around Axel’s body, who clings to his arm as though it would save him from being drowned. Michael chuckles to himself, thinking about Axel being the cutest man alive even when absolutely gutted. He can’t help himself from whispering sweet nothing to Axel, trying to do anything with his limited knowledge of comforting others to comfort his one true love.

He wonders what went wrong, surely it must be about the play? He didn’t realize that the plays meant so much to Axel, he thought he cared more about his cheer team. Cheer co-captain with Sydney now that Mia graduated, he should be ecstatic especially with college scouts seeing his prowess on the field and in the classroom. He’s had different schools approach him and Sydney to ask about their future and their history practicing the sport of cheerleading. Michael can’t deny how much he loves seeing Axel perform especially in their uniform.

Michael places warm kisses to the side of Axel’s face that isn’t buried into the fabric of Michael’s green sweater that he gave him. ‘Gave to him’ being a stretch considering that Michael lent it to him once and now Axel refuses to give it back to him, whether or not he drowned in the fabric or not, Axel didn’t care. He always claimed it smelled like Michael and it helps him relax when he’s overstimulated or overwhelmed with life. He can just breathe and remember that he has Michael and it brings him peace.

Michael adores being able to be there for Axel like that, he often found himself incredibly worried he wasn’t good enough for Axel; disappointing people still happened to be his biggest fear all this time later. Axel never lets him think that though, any doubt that crosses Michael’s mind is quickly whisked away by Axel’s comforting and loving words to remind him how much he loves him. Michael knows it’s his turn to return the favor.

“Why are you crying?” Michael whispers against Axel’s skins, his warm lips kissing away the tears that burned his lover's handsomely gentle features. He draws Axel deeper into his arms, watching as the cheerleader sobs louder clinging tightly onto Michael’s dark gray t-shirt, his face burying itself into the warm crook of Michael’s neck. “It’s okay, you’re okay, shhh.”

Michael’s heart aches in his chest. He wants to take away all the pain Axel has ever felt or ever will feel, he wants to protect him from the world and then some. If anyone makes him cry, Michael will ruin their entire life and give them a black eye, he doesn’t care who. Seeing Axel cry this hard made him want to die.

Minutes pass by with Axel sobbing into Michael’s arms still, before he finally starts to relax. His throat raw and hoarse from crying, as he hides himself away from the world still buried in Michael’s comforting embrace. Michael’s hands soothingly rub his boyfriend’s back, coaxing Axel into relaxing and to not cry himself into pure exhaustion. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he turns to look at Michael’s face, cupping his cheeks. Gray eyes stare intently at Axel, full of love and admiration for the cheerleader.

“You’re not going to break up with me right?” Axel whimpers, sniffling loudly.

“What?” Michael gasps, nearly angry trying to stop himself from making a face. “Who the fuck told you that? I’d never consider it. Ever. Seriously.”

Michael pulls Axel protectively into his lap, his hands resting Axel’s waist tightening his hold on the cheerleader who grips Michael’s shoulders with his own hands holding him fiercely.

“I know, I know,” Axel whines, “I’m sorry. I’m overthinking. I just feel really lost lately, my love.”

“I already told you, long distance or not, we’re not breaking up Axel. You’re my entire world and then some.” Michael comforts him, the hands on his waist move comfortingly up and down his lower to mid back. “You’re my sunshine forever.”

Axel giggles sweetly between his sniffles. “God, I just- ugh. It’s something Rory said about Skye and Esme during rehearsal. She didn’t know if they’d survive graduating high school like you and I are. And then Danielle, ugh she’s driving me insane.”

“Who cares what they think?” Michael murmurs softly.

“I don’t, I really don’t.” Axel reassures quickly, he draws in a long breath wiping the back of his hand against his nose. He brushes away the remaining tears on his face, breathing out a relaxing breath before talking again. “Skye and Bailey are perfect for each other, you know? They remind me of us in a way. And then hearing Rory say that and then Danielle having to add her two cents into everything like we’re supposed to care.”

Michael laughs at the annoyed sigh that leaves Axel’s lips. “Sorry,” he instantly adds after seeing the death glare that Axel shot at him, the corner of his lips struggling to stop himself from laughing at his boyfriend’s adorable display.

“Ugh,” Axel feigns annoyance, “Anyways, remember how I told you I applied at University of Cedar Cove,” Axel asks, continuing once Michael nods in response, “they accepted me. Which, it’s fine. Whatever. I wanted to go there so we’d still be together not because they were that great. But Cornell accepted me, they want me on their athletics team full scholarship Michael.”

“That’s fucking amazing, Axel.” Michael grins, pulling back to look him in the eyes, his hand moving to cup Axel’s cheeks still wet with tears that poured out of them moments ago. “I’m so proud of you.”

Michael peppers Axel’s face in sweet kisses, from his nose, his lips, his cheeks, even his eyelids. Axel giggles loudly pushing on Michael’s chest in a mock display to get him to stop. Michael doesn’t, tightening his grip around Axel’s waist holding him close to his body kissing him instantly on the lips.

“So.” Kiss. “Proud.” Kiss. “Of.” Kiss. “You.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs as Michael stops, Axel’s hands still tightly holding the fabric of Michael’s t-shirt. He sniffles again, letting his head fall to the side looking into Michael’s warm and comforting gray eyes, trying to hide the sad smile. “But it’s… it’s really far away.”

“So?” Michael shrugs taking in Axel’s dreamy features, he too hides his own sad smile. The thought of being so far away kills Michael inside, but he wants more than anything for Axel to follow his dreams, “it was one of your dream schools. You’re going. You’ll learn and you’re going to put on that cheer uniform, do some wild looking dances and look hot as fuck.”

“Shut up,” Axel laughs sweetly his thumbs stroking Michael’s features, “it’s in New York. That’s like 3000 miles away, Mr. Harrison. I can’t handle being away from you… let alone my dad.”

“Oh.” Michael whispers.

Axel nods, unable to fight back his sad smile. Michael tries to ignore it, his brain in mental turmoil, this wasn’t their first time talking about the future but then it felt so far away. Even the beginning of the year it felt like it was years away, now one month away from graduation they can’t deny how quickly and overwhelming it felt.

“So what?” Michael shrugs despite his mental, “You’ll come home for breaks and I can come visit you. We’ll figure it out. Same for your dad.”

“I know we will,” Axel sighs, “I want to tell them no.”

“No.” Michael quickly interjects. “You’re not allowed to tell them no.”

“Since when do you-“

“Since now.” Michael laughs, “You’re not telling them no. Your dad and I will manage without you, and he’d beat himself up if you gave up your dreams for him.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Michael.”

“Axel.”

Axel shakes his head despite himself, he’s laughing as he pushes himself up out of Michael’s lap reaching out for Michael’s hands. Michael takes them instantly letting himself be pulled to his feet. Axel leads Michael to the middle of the stage, Michael’s eyes looking around the stage and sets with new found wonder. He arches his eyebrow, turning back to Axel.

“Do you really think we’ll be together forever?” Axel asks softly.

“Fuck yeah.” Michael laughs, earning himself a laugh from Axel as well whose face flushes red. He ducks his head down to hide his smile. “I mean it.”

“You promise? Forever and even then some?”

“I promise.” Michael answers, he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small green band with a silver outline. “Look.”

“It’s pretty.” Axel smiles, turning it over in his fingers. “I didn’t know you wore rings.”

“I don’t,” Michael laughs, “that’s for you. A promise ring. I got it out of a stupid ass gashapon at Morgan’s job.”

“Big spender.” Axel teases as he slides the plastic ring onto his finger. He twists it around his ring finger, unable to suppress the smile on his face, which in turn makes Michael smile. “Pretty good for 50 cents. And your signature color, green.”

“75 actually.” Michael corrects him. “Green matches my eyes.” He says with a silly dramatic flair grinning at the laugh that leaves Axel’s lips.

“Oooh, even bigger spender.”

Michael crosses the stage taking Axel’s into his arms, his hand finding Axel’s own to twist the ring around his finger with a grin. He brings Axel’s hands to his lips, kissing his inner wrist. Michael’s lips trace from Axel’s wrist to his palm, down to the tips of Axel’s fingers. Axel’s features blushing red as he bites his lower lip.

Michael draws Axel into a hug, his arms securely around his torso, breathing in the scent of his cologne.

“You know, earlier I imagine that’s how Taylor Swift felt when she wrote that line you like so much. The ‘I pictured you with other girls in love, then threw up on the street’.”

Michael laughs loudly, “You’re ridiculous. I don’t like Taylor Swift.”

“I love you Michael Harrison.” Axel whispers sweetly biting back a smile at his antics, his hands around Michael’s neck as he sways them back and forth slowly.

He presses his lips against Axel’s own, capturing him in a passionate kiss. His lips heavy against Axel’s own, as their tongues meet with a satisfying hum. Michael memorizes the taste of Axel’s lips and the warmth of his breath so even when they’re far away he can always remember the pleasure of kissing him.

She turns her attention to Nicole who smiles brightly, she draws Hana into a quick hug pulling away to hold her at arm’s length. The pair had decided to meet up at the venue as Hana needed to meet with aspiring young men her parents would try to set her up with if King Liam didn’t work out; and Nicole wanted to meet up with her old co-workers. The thought of Nicole as a waitress intrigued Hana, she often wondered what it would feel and be like to be a true New Yorker without a royal background.

“Nicole! I’m so pleased to see you.”

She smiles brightly as Nicole pulls her in to place a kiss on her cheeks, quick and chaste. She sighs to herself happily, the short interaction enough to make her heart flutter in her chest and her mind race with thoughts. Nicole offers her a cup with a weird array of scents coming off of it giving her a puzzled look.

“It’s a concoction of every soda,” Nicole laughs at the concern written across Hana’s features. “Trust me, it sounds gross but it’s - well kind of gross, but that’s half the fun. It’s a New Yorker thing, I guess.”

Hana laughs gently before taking the drink to her lips. She breathes out deeply before taking a sip from the straw, her face scrunching up in disgust before settling into a look of distress. Every polished part of her screams this is nasty and undignified, but most of her is excited. She goes for a second sip getting a squeal of excitement from Nicole.

“I told you!” Nicole laughs, “it sounds gross, tastes gross, but you can’t stop yourself from going back for seconds!”

“I never realized how exciting being a New Yorker could be,” she replies, “you lived such an exciting life before coming to the courts of Cordonia.”

“It wasn’t all glamor, you should’ve seen the giant rat I called my roommate back at my old place.”

“A giant rat? In your home?!” Hana gasps.

“Mhm,” Nicole nods, she leads Hana by the hand further into the stadium they were at. The sound of music grew louder and louder as they weaved through people, Nicole taking lead to make sure she and Hana could get through the crowd quickly. “I named him Derek, I can’t explain it but he looked like a Derek. Though, I think I was influenced by watching Grey’s Anatomy with him.”

Hana shakes her head in disbelief, letting a giggle leave her lips as Nicole pulls her to a stop the both of them watching each other as people talk excitedly around them the overwhelming sound of music and voices nearly drowning them out from hearing one another.

“I’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy,” Hana whispers, “Is it good?”

“Hmm, think Open Heart with more drama.” Nicole smiles.

“I love Open Heart.”

“You’re welcome for letting you onto it,” Nicole grins, “I have season 3 on DVD we can watch sometime, though be warned it’s not as good as the first season.”

Hana smiles sweetly, her cheeks flushing crimson red thinking back to her marathons with Nicole watching the first and second season. She remembers the warmth of Nicole’s body next to her, the taste of unhealthy American snacks, and the fun they had laughing and crying over fictional characters and what would become of their medical careers. It was different for Hana, before then she’d never even truly seen a film; her family found it a waste of time. A distraction from her studies and her duties as a woman of the Lee family, she only ever recalls watching a single movie in her youth and that being the Titanic because her mother was fascinated by the concept and Leonardo DiCaprio.

She adored this part of life, the contrast different from growing up in New York versus that of growing up in the courts as she did. The fun she felt with Nicole only grew, she made her branch out and try things she never would’ve even considered or thought to be to be done. The sheer amount of American media from film to music to television excited every part of Hana’s brain. There was so much to learn and notate, even media meant for fun consumption Hana found there was something to learn from it. She never thought she’d find herself at a concert in this way — sure she’d been to classical concerts but they paled in comparison to the excited energy around them.

Hana’s pulled out of her thoughts as she gazes onto the stage in the middle of the stadium where a band takes the stage excitedly talking to the crowd.

“Thank you for coming Hana, I’m glad I can share so much of my life with you. I know this is overwhelming, but you’re handling it like a champ!”

Hana grins, “it does hurt my ears a bit, but I’m happy I came. I’m willing to try this for you.” Nicole squeezes Hana’s hand in return, failing to hide a grin in her attempt to be seen as nonchalant. She’s about to reply when the band speaks up, turning their attention away from each other to the front stage.

“Are you ready to rock New York?!”

“WOOOOO!” The crowd cheers, it’s nearly deafening to Hana, as she tries her best to not show it seeing the smile on Nicole’s face.

Before long the concert is in full swing, people mosh and dance around her with excitement. Hana herself is clinging to Nicole’s arm to not get swept away into the craziness of New York’s crowds, enjoying the feeling of holding Nicole’s hand. This is not something she would’ve done herself, she wouldn’t have even considered coming to a rock concert a mere two months ago. There was something about Nicole that made her feel emboldened and brave; it made her a better person.

The bravery she felt with Nicole; it instilled upon her that she could be her own person and face the world with all of her strength and prove herself to her family and friends alike. She studies Nicole, the excitement on her face as she screams lyrics to a song that Hana can barely understand. Hana couldn’t explain it, but despite being unfamiliar and not all that interested with the event, she still felt engaged and she enjoyed herself even. The smile on Nicole’s face was the most important thing to her in this moment; seeing Nicole happy made Hana happy.

Thinking back on this night, Hana would regard this night as the night she truly full heartedly had fallen in love with Nicole Brooks.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Nicole hunkers down with Hana’s head in her lap, the two of them sitting in the back of a limousine on the way back to the airport. Their four day excursion to New York came to a conclusion, though Nicole almost wishes she and Hana could stay forever and show her all the wonders of New York. Nicole felt comfortable here, it wasn’t all high end glamor and royalty, it was her eating a giant $2 slice of pizza with Derek watching hoping Nicole would drop a few crumbs for him to scurry by and eat.

Nicole longs to be back in New York as much as she won’t express it, so much has changed that she knew she couldn’t just return to New York and pretend she was Nicole Brooks, not Lady Nicole. She wouldn’t know how to settle back into being a waitress with shitty customers, shitty pay, and dull outfits, houses, and friends.

Going to Cordonia reminded Nicole she truly didn’t have many friends or much family to keep up with, she texted a few people in the time she left but none all that important, none that pulled her back to New York. She truly only missed the rock scene, it was her saving grace from her day-to-day life. Long night shifts spent sucking up to rich people for a half decent tip to be able to go see her favorite bands live, to feel a part of a group. Her rock friends being the only few people that would hit her up to see what concerts she’d be at so they could meet up and party together.

She sighs to herself, she wonders what would happen if she’s unable to convince Liam to take her hand in marriage — truthfully, she didn’t know if she even wanted him that much. After everything that happened, everything she’s been through, all the ups and lows, the only constant through it all was Hana. The shoulder for her to rest on and vice versa. She knows she shouldn’t and she knows the possibility is limited; but she often found herself wishing it were Hana’s hand in marriage she was chasing. She shakes the thoughts of her head, Hana and her may have kissed once, but she shouldn’t lose focus now.

She brushes her fingers absently through Hana’s hair, a lingering smile plastered on her features. She hums in appreciation as her fingers glide effortlessly through the strands of Hana’s hair, enjoying the comfort of another person. Her heart giddy in her chest, she never had someone in her life that cares about her happiness like Hana does. Nicole’s many exes would refuse to go on a spontaneous trip or even to a free rock concert.

She remembers the excited, nervous energy bustling through the crowd as they hoisted Hana up to crowd surf. Nicole’s ex would’ve never been caught dead letting herself get crowd surfed, even her ex-boyfriends didn’t appreciate the rock scene as she did. Hana however was different though, she did things Nicole loved without hesitation and Nicole would do the same. She knew her and Hana were more than friends despite the mental turmoil she went through, in the short time she’s known her competing for Prince Liam’s hand in marriage she’s learned more and spent more time with Hana than she did the crowned prince.

She wasn’t sure if Hana returned the feelings, she would be happy just being friends even if they both knew their connection was deeper. She would do anything to keep Hana in her life; she wanted to spend the rest of her life learning about Hana and her interests — as friends or lovers. She wanted to return the favor of doing what Hana loves as Hana does for her.

Nicole leans down to place a kiss to Hana’s temple, whose lips curve into a smile in her sleepy state snuggling in closer to the New Yorker. She strokes Hana’s cheek with the back of her hand; feeling the exhaustion of the night starting to hit her. She herself could also use a nap. Nicole leans back in her seat, her fingers never leaving Hana’s hair as she lets her eyes close hoping her dreams would keep this feeling in her chest alive.

So what? So what if Trystan picked the throne that betrayed him over him. So what if Trystan felt it was the right decision, he should’ve seen this coming a mile away. A pretty face and nice body is all Trystan was good for anyways. His detective work needed help, he was helpless, he weighed him down and made his life worse Charlie tried to reason with himself.

He breathes out heavily glancing at his phone that chimes insistently.

Ruby: Hi Charlie, I know you’re not okay. If you need anything please reach out. I feel like we're good friends now so I can say this and it is not weird. I care about you deeply. Luke and I will be here when or if you’re ready.

Marguerite: Charlie please come back to Drakovia. I can’t stand to see the way this is tearing you and my brother apart. You BELONG together. Please just let me know if you need help getting back into the country.

He laughs bitterly. Belongs together, my ass, he reads bitterly. He tosses his phone over his shoulder not wanting to waste his mental capacity reading mind numbing text he won’t reply to. He appreciates their concern, but he’s a lone wolf at the end of the day, he works, lives, and breathes on his own - he doesn’t need other people ruining his flow for no good reason. He doesn’t need a repeat of Trystan. He throws back a shot reaching for another bottle of whiskey, his current one having now been long downed.

He couldn’t care about the consequences or the stern talking to Tommy will give him in the morning. Tommy would understand, he rationalizes to himself, true or not. His chest felt like liquid fire, a burning sensation coating every muscle and fiber inside him. He downs the shot he just poured trying to rationalize in his head everything that happened tonight. A grimace passes his features, sucking down another shot. He couldn’t figure out how many he had at this point, one? Ten? Fifteen?

As he slams the shot glass against the table top he hears the creak of the door, instantly jumping to his feet pulling the taser from his waist hoisting it to aim at the shadow looking at him.

“Charlie?”

He softens for a split second hearing the tone of the shadow’s voice, his shoulders relaxing with comfort. He lowers the taser, his resolution toughening, squaring his shoulders. He clears his throat, setting the taser on the table, feeling nearly defiant or threatening towards one of the few men he’s ever truly loved. Love. He laughs to himself with a sigh shaking his head to himself. He falls into his chair ignoring Trystan’s presence, pouring himself another shot. He fills one of his empty shot glasses with a shot for his lover, the word once felt fulfilling and tantalizing now makes his chest feel devoid of emotion.

“Shot?” His voice was heavy with drunkenness.

“Sure,” He swallows heavily, his eyes traveling over Charlie’s form. He takes a moment to fall into the seat across from Charlie, drinking in the sight of his lover. His heart sinking deep into his chest, he feels it could fall out of his body as they speak. He forces a smile, the one that used to make Charlie melt and agree to whatever nonsense Trystan was about to rope him into. “You still look hot, jet lagged and all.”

“Ha.” Charlie replies sarcastically, “You look terrible.”

“Charlie…”

“Stop. Now.” Charlie brings his shot glass to his lips, his eyes intently staring at Trystan’s before swallowing down the drink with resentment. He coughs deep from within his chest, breathing out a deep breath before dropping the shot glass carelessly onto the table without much thought. He lets his head fall back with exhaustion, dragging in a deep breath before exhaling trying to calm himself down. “What are you doing here Trystan?”

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” Trystan asks with care.

Charlie laughs. And laughs. And laughs. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly, “You to stay in Drakovia with me.”

He snorts. “Give up my career for you to play king in a country that hates you, with family that betrays you and treats you like shit and not to mention tried to frame you for murder twice, for a crown you don’t even fucking want to wear. And that tried to poison me. Hard pass.”

“You don’t understand everything about me and my family, you of all people should know family is… difficult.” Trystan replies, he sighs resting his hand against his forehead. “I have an obligation to myself and to my country.”

“As if that’s ever stopped you before.” Charlie replies, “You ever stopped to care about your country the four years you ran away from home to prance around the world being an entitled dickwad?”

“It wasn’t like that and you know it, Charlie.” Trystan sighs, “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“You came here to beg me to come to Drakovia, it’s a wonderful country. You’ll love it. You can be a king with me. We can live happily ever after. Grow the fuck up Trystan. Happily ever after doesn’t fucking exist and you know it. You wasted your time coming here. Call Margurite, get your private jet ready, and go the fuck home.”

Trystan tries to hide the hurt that ripples across his features, his caring smile now a thin line of regret. He wanted to conclude that he shouldn’t have come. He knew Charlie wouldn’t give up the life he lives and he knew Charlie would be brutal; despite it all it’s one of the things he loves most about Charlie. He still can’t force himself to truly, fully regret coming. He wants more than anything to take away the hurt and pain in Charlie’s chest knowing he caused it and there would be no easy way to fix it between them.

He reaches out his hand taking Charlie’s, seeing a flash of pain and love crossing Charlie’s handsome features, making his heartache fiercely in his chest. His finger soothes back and forth against smooth skin, trying to lull him into calming down. Charlie fights to hold back tears, his body on the verge of shaking with sobs he refuses to let out of his bloodshot misty eyes watching Trystan cautiously.

Charlie fights himself to pull away from the comforting warmth of Trystan’s touch. He has flashbacks to the night he left, watching Trystan pull away and detach himself from him. The curves of his body and his firm abs under his fingers as he longingly tries to capture the feeling of heat rushing through his body. His heart burns in his chest, the ache that felt as horrendous earlier felt even worse now with the love of his life holding him. He wants to kiss his stupid face, hold him in his arms, deck him, cry, anything really. Anything to let out the feelings corrupting his brain, burying his heart in a pit of darkness.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Trystan whispers, letting himself move closer to Charlie, remaining a safe distance away to not overwhelm his lover. His fingers tighten around Charlie’s hand to help him steady himself, watching the way his chest rises and falls. “I’m sorry too.”

“I just don’t understand why.” Charlie whispers. “We’re partners. We have a crew. A home. Our home. Our lives.”

Trystan’s heart shudders in his chest, thinking of his apartment building decked out memories of their time together. Their love and life. He moves to sit beside Charlie, reaching out with his free hand to cup his lover’s cheek with a sad smile. His fingers are warm against his skin, he wants to remember this feeling until he dies. The warmth that radiates off skin and the way that despite himself, Charlie still nuzzles against his hand like he always has.

“I love you, you know that. It’s not easy for me to let go of everything we made.”

“Love isn’t enough. I can’t move with you.” Charlie sighs. “I have Tommy. The team. A life here. A life that you promised to be in forever. It’s not fair of you to ask me to give up everything..and it’s even less fair of me to ask you to do the same.”

“We can move the crew to Drakovia, start it up here. And Tommy would love it here, we can get him a pub, decorate it the way he wants.” Trystan grins, his mind booming with ideas of a handful of American’s in a sea of Drakovia citizens. “It would be life changing for all of us.”

“No.” Charlie sighs shaking his head, “This building means something. You can’t just take the Drunk Tank to Drakovia for the fun of it. And our team has roots here, Mafalda has a family. Luke has family. Ruby does. It’s not that simple.”

Trystan shakes his head standing in front of Charlie, his hands cupping the detective’s cheeks forcing him to look him in the eyes. His finger dragging along Charlie’s lower lip, toying with his lips trying to force them upwards into a smile. Charlie can’t help the melting of his anger, his heart yearning to drop everything for Trystan knowing it's unfeasible. He casts his eyes downwards forcing himself to look away from the intensity of Trystan’s gaze.

“It’s that simple for us.” Trystan whispers, letting his face come closer to Charlie’s, feeling one another’s breath on each other’s cool skin in the air conditioned bar fighting off the New York heat. “Picking us is always easy. Come with me. Run away from this. Enjoy the finer things of life. We can make memories, have a family, and find ourselves. And have so much sex.”

They both laugh sadly at his words.

“I can’t leave my dad behind Trystan.”

“You’re not leaving him.” Trystan quickly replies, “We can solve it from Drakovia. And you can visit New York whenever you want. We have jets, money, and our entire lives to figure everything out.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head no. His hands tightening around Trystan’s, the prince’s grip tightening back as tears fill his eyes. He knew deep down Charlie would say no, but everything inside him screamed that maybe he wouldn’t, that he’d give them a chance. He brings his lips to Charlie’s, taking his breath away as they both meld into one another. Hands moving to grip onto each other tighter, Trystan’s arms strongly bracing the both of them against the table.

Gasping for breath, Charlie breaks their heated kisses. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to feel Trystan’s body against his fingertips and his lips until he dies. He wants the last thing he ever tastes to be the prince’s lips, the last smell he ever smells to be Trystan’s colonge. He draws his fingers down Trystan’s chest, his fingers brushing under the fabric of his signature black button up shirt, the buttons popping open with each movement. He moves his lips to Trystan’s chin, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin. Delighting in each moan that Trystan lets out.

His teeth nip sweetly at the prince’s pulse point, soothing over the skin with his tongue. His saliva warms against Trystan’s cool skin, his teeth prod and poke at the flesh, Trystan’s moans filling the bar with country music dancing in their ears.

“So this is it then?” Charlie whispers against his skin, almost too silent for the both of them to hear. His lips find purchase against Trystan’s collarbone making him moan out loudly, his hands tightening in Charlie’s hair. “We’re done then?”

“I guess so.” Trystan replies, breathing out heavily as the detective continues to pepper kisses against his skin. He wants to say more, his mind heavy with lust blinded by his desire and the hurt in his chest unable to fully form into words. He breathes out heavily as Charlie pulls away from him looking at him. Eyes that once burned with hatred, now overflow with love as they both hesitate to say anything to officially end it.

“I love you Trystan Throne.” He whispers softly. Charlie kisses him sweetly one last time on the lips, short and sweet. The feeling went away all too soon. “I’m sorry, but this is my home. And I can’t leave until I figure out what happened to my dad.”

“I understand. You can’t run away like I did.” He nods understandingly, “I love you Charlie Rose.”

He sighs heavily.

“Goodbye Trystan Throne.”

“Goodbye Charlie Rose.”

Trystan takes one last glance at his lover before turning to leave the bar. His heart heavy in his chest, burning to soothe the ache. Leave his family and throne behind for the one man who ever loved him, saw him for who he was, believed in him, made him his partner. His whole world is sitting in this bar about to drink himself to death. He pushes open the door looking back to see Charlie one last time before accepting their fate. He hesitates… his hand holding the door finding Charlie’s eyes in the darkness, the both unable to move knowing they were each other’s forever.

Could they really let each other go?

Could he live with himself after walking out on another lover?

Could he find true happiness with a crown atop his head and his family breathing down his neck pulling him in every direction?

Give up my career for you to play king in a country that hates you, with family that betrays you and treats you like shit and not to mention tried to frame you for murder twice, for a crown you don’t even fucking want to wear. And that tried to poison me. Hard pass.

Yes!! Thank you for this!! This ^ right ^ here! This is what should happen (PB take note). There is no way mc would stay. Not your mc, not my mc, not anyone’s mc (at least from those people I know round here).

I just love how you wrote this particular paragraph too. Hard pass indeed!

Grow the fuck up Trystan. Happily ever after doesn’t fucking exist and you know it.

and also…

He wants to kiss his stupid face, hold him in his arms, deck him, cry, anything really.

My Gabriel would also say both these things. And they definitely don’t believe in the sort of ridiculousness such as happily ever after. Or at least would never admit it.

But gah!!! These two lines!!

His fingers are warm against his skin, he wants to remember this feeling until he dies.

He wants to feel Trystan’s body against his fingertips and his lips until he dies.

How dare you with these parallels. Be still my heart <3 <3

….the both unable to move knowing they were each other’s forever.

I agreeeee so much, I don’t think MC could willingly up and move everything; there’s too much history in New York for them to even consider it! Haha ty ty for the praise, i need mc to start telling Trystan what’s up, hard pass and all LOL

They could never admit bc then they’d have to admit there’s a soft heart under their hard exterior LOL, but fr I like to think that MC started to believe in fairytales and then reality hit them like a sack of bricks when Lydea showed up.