#lord!tom

“You’re dating my teacher?” you shouted, jumping to your feet and staring at your mother in shock. “I thought you went to talk to Mr. Laurens about my grade! How do you walk out with a date?”

Your mother shifted awkwardly on the couch, giving you a small glance out of the corner of her eyes. Her lips were settled into a frown, and her eyebrows were furrowed. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so long,” she mumbled awkwardly, her fingers fiddling together. “So when he asked me, I said yes. I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t believe the words that were falling from your mothers mouth. Using your hands to cover your ears, you started to shake your head. “This is social suicide. Everyone is going to look at me and be like, ‘your mom is dating the teacher!’ I will never have a normal life! Well, normal besides the stupid princess stuff.”

“I said I was sorry!” Clearly exasperated, your mother hid her face in her hands, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you want me to do. Do you want me to call him and cancel it? I will. I will become a miserable hag if that’s what you want.”

A groan managed to escape your lips as you kicked at the back of the armchair right in front of you. “No... I just... Whatever. Date him... luckily it’s the end of the school year.”

“Y/N-” your mother started, but you were already heading towards the door, ready to leave for school. “Y/N Ramona Taylor. Stop right where you are.” You paused, your hand on the door knob to the front door. Every nerve in your body was on edge, muscles rigid as you fought every thought to either snap at your mother or simply ignore her and escape while you still could.

Slowly, you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yes, mother?” you asked, voice rough and filled with so much unbridled anger. “Is there any reason why I’m not going to school right now? I’m sure Joseph’s waiting outside.”

A sad pout was settled over your mother’s face as she came closer to you, practically cornering you against the door. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry we never told you about your lineage, baby, I really am. And I’m sorry that Mr. O’Connor asked me out and that I said yes. But you know that I love you, and I don’t want to fight with you. Please, baby, don’t fight me on this. I want to be here for you. I am here for you.”

You sighed, uncurling your arms from around your torso. “I just- So much has happened and you never told me anything. 15 years, almost 16... and you couldn’t bother to tell me that I was a princess. You had so many chances and you never told me.”

“I wanted you to have a normal life. I wanted to paint. I didn’t want to have to spend my entire life walking one footstep behind someone.” She hesitantly lifted a hand, gauging your reaction for a moment before using her slim fingers to brush your unruly hair from your face, revealing your Y/E/C framed with your large glasses. “I wanted you to be a normal child that didn’t grow up in the public eye. I’m so sorry for hiding that from you.”

“I know, I just... I can’t... do this right now. I’m sorry.” You shifted away from your mother’s hand, shooting her a sad look. “Maybe later but... right now... I can’t.”

Your mother sighed, taking a step away from you. You glanced at her from the corner of your eyes, watching as her eyes fell apart. “I can’t do anything right, can I?”

Neither one of you spoke as the silence seemed to swallow the two of you whole. You felt so guilty for making your mom feel guilty, but you couldn’t find the words to reassure her. You couldn’t find the words to reassure yourself that she hadn’t done anything right. There were no words that could possibly fix anything.

A knock at the door drew your attention towards the brightly colored door. You quickly pulled open the door to find Benjamin standing there, his hands clasped behind his back. “Miss Y/N, are you ready to head to school?”

“Yeah, sure,” you mumbled. You threw one last glance at your mother before you ducked through the door, closing it tightly behind you.

“Is everything alright?” Benjamin asked as he held open the door for you. You forced a smile and nodded to him, sliding into the backseat of the limo. His brows furrowed together but he didn’t question you. Instead, he closed the door and hurried around until he was situated behind the wheel. “I hope that whatever seems to be wrong will work itself out in the end.”

----

“Why do I have to do this?” you grumbled as you sat in front of the vanity mirrors. One was a head on mirror, while two were angled so that you could get a good look at your side profiles. Your eyes darted over your face before glancing back at your grandmother’s reflection. “If all I’m going to do is decline the throne, why do I need to look like a princess?”

“You don’t know if you’ll decline the throne yet,” was her only response. She turned around as a chubby man walked into the room, followed by two dolled up assistants. The man was around 5′2″, with a balding head and an overly kind face. Meanwhile, his assistants might as well have been model twins, with styled dark brown hair placed in the worlds most intricate bun ever. They’re perfectly tanned skin practically shone in the lighting of the room, making them appear as if they were ethereal beings of some sort.

The chubby man, who you assumed as the Apollo your grandmother had talked to you about, quickly grabbed your grandmother’s hand, shaking it with vigor. “Ah, my shining angel. Tell me, where is our angel-to-be?”

“I’m here,” you responded, turning around in the chair and meeting his eyes. A small scream came from the main the moment his eyes took you in in your entirety. You flinched at his loud outburst, folding in on yourself to try and make yourself seem small. You wanted nothing more than to hide away at the very moment as the judgmental eyes of Apollo and his lovely assistants watched you with scrutinizing eyes.

“Sorry, sorry for my outburst,” Apollo finally said, coming to stand right in front of you. You glanced up at him, eyes filled with mild horror as he took you in. “Hmm, I see an okay complexion, nice eyes... hideous eyebrows, though. Those will have to go.” He turned his head and smiled at your grandmother. “it may be a challenge but Apollo accepts!”

You wanted to mumble out incoherent words, muttering about how you didn’t want to be changed for the sake of this princess garbage. But, instead, you bit your tongue and let Apollo carry on with whatever it was that he was going to do to your face.

“Ma’am, you have a call with France in two minutes,” cut in the voice of Elenora as she peered into the room.

“Ah, yes, thank you.” Your grandmother stood and shot you an award-winning smile as she started to head towards the door. “I’ll leave the two of you be for the time being. I’ll have Elenora fetch me when I’m done.”

“Will I have to put up with Thomas?” you asked, turning back to look in the mirror. You looked positively defeated, though you weren’t sure if it was because of the makeover you were about to be subjected to or the fact that just the mention of his name from yourself managed to make an already miserable day ten times worse.

Thankfully, your grandmother gave you an answer that you could be happy with. “Not until later when we’ll be doing the dancing aspect of your training. For now, it will just be you, Apollo, his assistants, and Elenora. I’ll see you in an hour, my blossom.”

You only nodded, watching her as she left the room with a small nod to the person standing guard in the doorway. The door was closed behind her, and your eyes snapped back to Apollo who was now standing behind you, a brush in hand. “We will make you a work of art,” he responded, running the brush through your hair. However, halfway through, he got stuck. “My, what... thick hair you have,” he mumbled, trying to tug the brush free. You yelped in pain as your head was tugged back.

A loud snap filled the air, and your eyes widened as you saw the two halves of the brush now held in his hands. “Oh God, I’m so sorry-”

“You broke my favorite brush.” He threw accusatory glares in your direction as he tossed the remains to his assistants who manage to toss the pieces with ease. A smile suddenly took over his face, causing your eyebrows to scrunch up together in confusion. “Do you have contacts?” he asked nicely as he removed your glasses from your face.

“U-Um, I have them, but I don’t really like-” You gasped as he easily snapped your glasses in two, dropping the pieces to the table. “You broke my glasses.”

“And you broke my favorite brush. We’re even, dahling.” He patted you on the head, before walking over to his assistants. “Call the mother to bring her contacts. In the meantime, lets start destroying those eyebrows. They look like Cousin Itt from the Addams Family and it simply won’t do.”

Your mouth dropped open at his very blunt comments about your eyebrows. You always knew that your eyebrows definitely weren’t your best feature, but Cousin Itt? Really?

“Maybe not a Cousin Itt. Maybe it’s little gremlins,” responded a snide remark from the doorway. There stood the very person your grandmother had assured you wouldn’t be here. However, there was another person beside him, a boy with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes that held so much kindness compared to his friend.

“Come on, mate, you heard her grandmother. She said to leave her alone until later,” said the new boy.

Tom merely rolled his eyes. “Come on, Haz. Look at her. There’s no saving her and making her look like a princess. Don’t you agree?”

A sudden hostility sparked in your eyes as you turned around, much to the annoyance of Apollo and his assistance. Although from this distance, they looked extremely blurry due to the loss of your glasses, you still managed to direct your eyes to the general vicinity of their owns. “Why don’t you bother someone else, Tommy? You’d think at this point that you’d at least have enough smarts in that thick skull of yours to knock this off and yet here we are with the same stupid and petty insults.”

Haz snickered in response, clapping Tom on the back. “Come on, mate. I think it’s best to leave her alone for the time being, don’t you think?” With that, the two boys left, and you sighed to yourself, rotating yourself as best as you could so that you were once against facing the mirror.

“Can we hurry this up?” you asked Apollo, who once again was trying to tackle your hair with different tools.

“With this hair? We’ll be done when we’re done.”

----

It took hours, around three or so, to finish. Apollo situated you behind two photos that he had snapped during the progress to show just how far you had come. “In just mere hours, how could I, Apollo, possibly take this monstrosity and turn it into a princess? Poor posture, bushy eyebrows, evil hair... And yet we have done just that. I give you Y/N Ramona Taylor Rothschild, Princess-to-be of Genovia.”

The assistants removed the photos that were blocking your face and revealed you to your grandmother, Benjamin, Elenora, Tom, and Haz. You blinked a few times before offering them a bright smile despite the fact that your contacts were now burning your eyes. This is why you didn’t particularly like to wear them, but now your glasses were no longer an option.

Your grandmother looked positively joyous, clapping at your new appearance. “You’re a vision of beauty,  my blossom.” Your eyes darted to the mirror where you studied your face, still unsure if this person could possibly be you. Your hair was much more managed, styled and straightened to be pin-straight, and your eyebrows weren’t their usual big bushy themselves. Instead they had actual shape and movement that complimented your face shape very well.

Glancing back at the group in front of you, you were surprised to see just how shell-shocked Tom was. His mouth was parted, his lips forming a small ‘o’, and he looked as though he was at a loss for words. Haz simply looked smug, as if he knew exactly what was going through his friends head.

“Tom?” you questioned, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. “What’s your problem? You’re going to catch flies.”

Your voice seemed to snap him out of his trance, because a sour look settled on his face. “You’re still not a princess,” he responded, huffing in annoyance. “No amount of makeup can erase that awful personality of yours.”

“Thomas Stanley Holland!” your grandmother finally snapped, turning to glare at the curly-haired boy. “While you are staying here at the Genovian embassy, I must implore you to restrain yourself and keep your comments to a minimum. If you can’t do something as simple as that, I will have to ask your Uncle to see you back to Genovia. Am I making myself clear?”

He only grumbled in response. Clearly, your grandmother seemed to accept that as an answer as she turned her attention back towards you, a small smile settled on her elegant face. “You look simply marvelous, don’t you agree Harrison?”

Harrison? Was that Haz? Your eyes followed her eyes and, sure enough, she was staring at the blonde-haired boy with the kind blue eyes. “I think she’s beautiful.” His voice was like velvet, smooth and surprisingly soft. “Definitely a princess.”

“Umm, Harrison? Who... are you, exactly?” Your mind was drawing a blank, still not sure who this new person was quite yet.

“I’m Harrison Osterfield. You can call me Haz. My father is the Duke of Kenilworth, where I myself will be the Duke of when I’m of age.” He smiled, and there was something about it that just made the whole room lighten up. “I’m also Tom’s best mate, despite his rude attitude towards anything and everyone.”

The blonde-haired boy’s comment made you laugh just a little bit. The teasing nature of Haz made you want to smile. However, the thing that really brought you to fits of giggles was the fact that Tom was now glowering at his supposed best friend due to the fact that he was on the receiving end of his teasing.

“Y/N dear,” your grandmother chides, bringing your giggles to a stop. “A princess never giggles uncontrollably.”

A throat was cleared, bringing everyone’s attention to Benjamin, casually leaning in the doorway. “Are we ready to move on with lessons? We have about an hour and a half before dinner is served.”

Everyone in the room then stood up, as if choreographed to do so. You looked down at your feet, unsure of just how well you’ll do while dancing. Your fingers twiddled together, massaging your thumbs over the back of your hands. The huge party of people followed Benjamin to the ballroom with you taking up the rear with Harrison.

“You know,” he mumbled, nudging your shoulder with his own, “Tom’s really not a bad guy. Difficult as bloody hell, but not bad. Just gotta get to know him, ya know? He’s a real softy when he’s not a righteous ass.”

You giggled softly, more so to yourself than anything. “Yeah, well what about you? Why didn’t I meet you yesterday?”

He chuckled, and the two of you slowed down even more to talk. “I just got here today, actually. I’m not in town for long but I’m here to help Tom. ‘Pparently his uncle’s been having a riot trying to maintain his temper the past couple days. I’m backup, I suppose.”

“Y/N, dear,” your grandmother called from further up, “do hurry. We haven’t got all day.”

“Yes grandma.” You sighed before offering Harrison a big smile. “So, what do I call you? Harrison or Haz?”

“Usually my friends call me Haz. Since I’m sure we’ll be great mates, you can call me Haz.”

You laughed a little, pushing against his shoulder with your own. “Yeah, okay. Haz.”

The two of you finally arrive at the ballroom, where your grandmother is standing in the middle with Benjamin. The entire room was circular, with arching ceilings that went up three stories. The walls were accented with gold,  The two are standing close, talking quietly among themselves. Benjamin’s eyes land on the two of you, and he clears his throat and takes a step away.

Your grandmother turned to look at you and smiled gently. “Ah, there you are my blossom. So, as for your dancing lessons, I figured it would be best to pair you up with Thomas because neither of you have had the chance to do much, if anything at all, in the sense of ballroom dancing.”

Your eyes darted across the room to Tom, who was sitting with a scowl on his face. His dark eyes suddenly landed on you, and you wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor of ballroom. You awkwardly shifted off your feet, but a calming hand was placed on your shoulder. “It’ll be good,” Haz mumbled, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “Remember, he’s not a complete ass.”

“Now, you two should watch Benjamin and I as we demonstrate a traditional Genovian dance. It’s been a waltz and a tango,” she instructed, giving a nod to Elenora who was by a speaker.

“Like a wango?” you questioned, causing a snicker to come from the blond-haired boy standing to your right. Tom merely rolled his eyes while your grandmother gave you a stern look.

“Wango is not the proper term. It’s a traditional dance. Now pay attention,” she chided. Once again, she nodded to Elenora who started the music. A gentle melody drifted through the air, elegant in sound.

The two started to dance together, moving with pure poise and energy throughout the middle of the room. Every move was calculated and beautiful in execution. It was all so smooth, and you were questioning if you’d ever be able to move with as much grace as the two.

The song came to an abrupt stop as your grandmother and Benjamin separated and walked away from the middle of the room. “Now it’s time for the two of you start dancing. We’ll keep this up until the two of you are able to dance with at least some semblance of grace that is expected of nobility.”

Your hands clenched and unclenched several times as you approached the middle of the room on uneven feet. Tom once again rolled his eyes before joining you in the middle of the room. His posture was stiff, and his eyes were filled with annoyance. He impatiently held out a hand to you, which you cautiously took.

His hand came to rest on your waist, and you couldn’t help but shift awkwardly. Your hand that wasn’t currently clasped in his own went to his shoulder. The two of you were forced close, your breaths mingling. You awkwardly coughed, glancing down at your feet.

“As much as I’d rather you not stomp on my feet, it’s not proper etiquette to stare at your feet,” he grumbled impatiently. Your cheeks felt hot under his scrutiny, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to look back up and see his annoyed brown eyes. “Y/N, for chrissake-”

You looked back up at him, your Y/E/C eyes meeting his chocolate brown eyes. His rude comment seemed to pause in his throat for a moment, and he looked incredibly lost. His eyes searched your own, and you wondered just what it was he was looking.

The sound of music pulled you both from your trance, and the two of you looked away momentarily, both clearly flustered. A few moments passed before Tom started to lead the two of you in your wango. The two of you managed to make it a few steps before your foot accidentally misstepped and caused you to walk all over his feet.

“Sorry!” you quickly shouted, staring at him with wide eyes. His brown eyes looked at you with pure hatred, and it caused you to shrink away. “I-I’m sorry. Really, I should just watch my feet and-”

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Let’s just finish this damned dance and get out of here.”

And so the two of you awkwardly moved through the dance. You managed to step on his feet a total of fifteen more times before you somehow managed to find your footing.

“My feet are going to be horrendously bruised tomorrow,” he muttered, but there was something light in his voice. It was almost as if he made a joke.

“Was... was that a joke?” you asked, giggling when his cheeks flushed. “Just be happy that we’re almost done, Tommy.”

He groaned, shaking his head in annoyance. “The damn nickname... why are you so insistent on using it?”

You shrugged, resting your head on his shoulder. He gave you a weird look but didn’t say anything of it. “It’s a fitting nickname for you,” you responded simply. The wango the two of you had been attempting came to a halt as the two of you simply swayed to the music.

“Ahem,” your grandmother said, causing the two of you to jolt away. “You two were doing lovely. I simply wanted to try a spin before we all head out to dinner.” Behind your grandmother were Benjamin and Haz, who were giving each other knowing smirks of amusement. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before looking at Tom.

“I, um...” You fumbled over your words, unsure of what to do. “I’ve never done a spin before and I feel like I’m going to hurt someone.”

Tom chuckled from behind you, and you gave him a weird look. He never laughed unless in your expense. “I doubt you can hurt me. It’s a spin.”

You were very sure that if there was some way to fuck this up, you were bound to do it. Still, you went along with his reassurance and took his hand that he held out to you. “Okay, what do I do?”

“Twirl into his chest, dearest,” your grandmother taught.

You pursed your lips, giving Tom a look to tell him how sorry you were going to be. After taking a deep breath, you spun into Tom-hard. “Ah shi-” Tom instantly let go of you and walked away momentarily, holding his stomach that your elbow had gone flying into. “Jesus...”

Your hand flew to your mouth, and shock wrote itself across your face. “I’m so sorry! Tom-”

“Slower next time, please.” His hand drifted to where you had elbowed him and he groaned. “Much slower... You’re not a damned tornado.”

“I’m sorry, I told you I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m so sorry, can I help you? Do you need ice or-” You were rambling. Thankfully, Tom started to talk over you.

“Just... Let’s go again. Go. Slow.” He walked back over to you and, once again, held out his hand to you. You cautiously took his hand, giving him a weird look. He only gave you as reassuring as a smile that he could possibly muster. You took a deep breath and spun into his arms. Your back eased into his side as you glanced at him over your shoulder.

He looked mildly pleased that you managed to not bruise his side with your spin. “You did it. Congratulations.” His arms suddenly fell from you and to his sides. “Is it time for dinner now?”

As if on a cue, a butler came bustling into the room and whispered something to Elenora before escaping through the doors. She smiled and came to her feet, looking at everyone in the room. “Dinner is ready,” she said, leaving after the servant to lead the way to the dining room.

As everyone started to filter out, you turned to Tom, ready to ask him about why he was suddenly acting different. However, he was already following after everyone else. You sighed, wrapping your arms around your torso before following after the group. Your mind was on that dance, so aware of the way he held you so tightly and how you two somehow fit decently together.

Sighing, you forced those thoughts away. No, you didn’t like him, and he didn’t like you. Liking him was a stupid idea. He was too big of a jerk to possibly be anything more than a maybe friend.

Just a friend.

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“Dear, I would not lie to you about this,” your grandmother said, still fazed from your previous outburst. “Your necklace bears the Genovian Crest and has been passed down through many great generations. You are a princess if ever there were one.” Her final decree was said, and silence reigned over the small party of servants and body guards that were outside with the two of you.

You shifted awkwardly in your chair, slender fingers gripping at the edge of your seat as your mind continued to run on the fastest speed possible. You wanted to ask more questions, but it seemed as if your grandmother was done arguing over your lineage at the current moment and you didn’t want to make her upset. So instead you silently stewed, your mind creating new thoughts and questions before you could begin to start processing them.

The sound of approaching feet crunching on grass made your head snap around. Standing a mere twenty feet away was a boy with toffee brown curls, tousled lightly in an oddly perfect kind of way. His chocolate brown eyes beckoned you closer, and you seemed to be at a loss for words at the boy standing before you.

A sudden look of disgust crossed his face, and the trance and illusion that had glued your eyes was long gone with his sour face. “What on Earth is that thing?” he questioned, his heavy British accent very apparent in his voice. The rude question coupled with his disgusted voice caused your jaw to drop open in shock at just how blunt he could possibly be. “Oh do close your mouth, we wouldn’t want you to catch flies.”

“Thomas,” she said, a small warning tone edging her voice, “this is my granddaughter, Y/N. I’m sure your Uncle has mentioned her before.” Although the words she spoke were pleasant, there was an underlying tone of anger and annoyance in the Queen’s voice, and it brought a small smile to your face. Turning to look at her, you saw her gesturing vaguely to the boy who had walked over to join you two, standing off to your side. “This is soon to-be Lord Thomas Stanley Holland. Thomas, this is Y/N Ramona Taylor Rothschild, the crown princess.”

Hesitantly, you lifted a hand out to him, trying to be polite despite his rude introduction. However, he ignored your hand and focused his attention on your grandmother. “Uncle Barnaby has requested that you and Benjamin take over my lessons tomorrow. He says there is a very important meeting with someone from Spain.”

“Yes, of course,” she responded, waving her hand in dismissal as she took the time to take a sip from her cup of tea. “Only if you promise to help me with my lessons with Y/N.”

“What?!” the two of you questioned in unison. Disdain started to build up inside your chest at the thought of having to work with someone so vile and mean for no other purpose than because he wants to be.

“Hold on!” you practically shouted, seeing as how Tom was about to start talking himself.  You wanted to be the first one to have any say, just so that he would be annoyed. Luckily, it worked. “I never agreed to any lessons on anything. I only just found out that I was a princess! You can’t expect me to now want these lessons! I just want to live a normal life! I was happy being invisible! No one saw me and I didn’t have to interact! Plus I have final exams next week! I can’t be a princess!”

“How anyone can be invisible with that hair and those eyebrows, I’ll never know,” Thomas muttered under his breath, but you managed to push his stupid voice and his mean remark to the back of your head.

Your grandmother, however, did not let his remark go unnoticed. She gave him a dirty glare before turning her attention towards yourself. “How about I talk to you and your mother tomorrow about this then, hmm? I’m sure you have a lot to think about.” Glancing down at her watch, she suddenly jumped to her feet. “I am terribly sorry, my dear, but I have a meeting with Greece that I simply must attend to. I’ll have Benjamin show you out. I will stop by early tomorrow morning to discuss things further.”

With that, she left, leaving you alone with Thomas Holland. To make matters worst, he decided to sit opposite of you, casually leaning back in the lawn chair until he was comfortable. He let a few seconds pass by in awkward silence before he decided to open his mouth. “You’re no princess, you know,” he said, taking your half-drank cup of tea from it’s saucer and taking a sip.

“And you’re no lord, either. Yet here you are, taking other peoples things and being a jerk. God, what is your problem?” You stood up at that and turned to walk back to the house. Behind you were accompanying footsteps, though you couldn’t be sure who they belonged to just yet. You didn’t care though. Your mind was focused on grabbing you bag and leaving on your bike.

However, a firm hand grabbed onto your wrist, stopping your forward movement. You turned around, ready to yell at whoever it was until you met the kind eyes of Benjamin. You relaxed slightly, still wary of the fact that the snobbish “soon to-be lord” Thomas could show up at any moment and ruin everything. “Please let go of me,” you whispered, giving your hand a good tug before sighing. “I just want to go home. I’ll get on my bike and leave, but I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I was asked to see you home,” he replied curtly before releasing your wrist.

“No, you were asked to see me to the door. I have my bike, I can make it home myself, really. I’ll be fine.” Before he could react or say anything to try and stop you, you dashed into the living room, swooping your bag up in one fell-swoop and escaped out the front door. A few shouts from the people at the desk followed you, but you ignored them, grabbing your bike and rushing towards the great black gates that were starting to open as you approached.

Once through those giant gates confining you to the building, you hoped on your bike and took off, pedaling as fast as you could. Your hair was whipped around by the wind created by your fast pace and sharp turns as you hurried to return to your brightly colored house. Several cars swerved to avoid you, their horns blaring throughout the San Francisco Streets, accompanied by the shouts of the angry drivers of those cars.

Your tires screeched as you suddenly slammed on the brakes of your bike, coming to a stop right outside of your house. Anger started to bubble under your skin as you thought about how everything in your life felt as though it had been yanked from your hands without any warning. No one bothered to tell you this major bombshell was flying towards you, ready to explode and obliterate you without a seconds warning. No one bothered to even mention that maybe, just maybe, you were more than just an average girl in the suburbs. That you were a freaking princess.

Clambering off of your bike, you stormed into your house, letting you bike drop to the floor as you slammed the door behind yourself. Your mother, who was currently sitting on a stool in front of a canvas, suddenly jumped up, giving you a weird look. “Y/N? Are you-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” you shouted, tossing you bag onto the closest couch. “Why didn’t you tell me that my father was a prince and that I’m a princess? Why did you keep this a secret? Shouldn’t I have been given the chance to know this for myself?” Your mother visibly flinched at the tone of your voice, but you weren’t about to stop. “Why was I the only one not informed about this? Why?”

“I’m sorry,” your mother mumbled, and you took a moment to study her face. A deep frown was settled on her face, her brows furrowed together. Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears as her bottom lip ever so slightly jutted out in a pout as the corners of her mouth turned down. “All three of us agreed to tell you when you were 18, but your father’s passing sped up the process. I’m sorry...”

You wanted to feel sorry, you truly did, but you couldn’t help but still feel betrayed by everything that had happened in the past few hours. So, instead, you turned on your heels, pulling your bike up until it was upright, and heading for the door.

“Y/N, where are you going?” your mother called after you as you forcibly opened the door.

“I’m going to the auto shop to check on my baby,” you called back, malice dripping in your voice. Once more, you slammed the door closed and took off down the streets, navigating through the many blocks until you happened upon the shop where Zendaya’s brother, Bobby Coleman, worked. It was because of him that your car was getting any attention at all. It was because of Bobby that the amount of money that it would cost to repair your car would be less than anywhere else.

You pedaled as hard as you could, your mind swarming with intrusive thoughts of anger. You huffed as, pushing yourself harder and harder to try and push those thoughts from your mind. Your grip on the handlebars tightened as you centered your thoughts on the exercise you were putting your body through.

Up ahead, you caught sight of the auto repair shop just a few blocks ahead. Leaning forward, your feet sped up their pedaling until you came cruising to a stop in front of the open garage where, inside, the loud sound of a drums and a screeching guitar filled the air. You jumped off your bike and pushed it into the garage.

Bobby was at the keyboard, his skilled hands moving as m&m’s bounced up in the air as he pressed on the keys to the melody of the music. His curly dark brown hair bounced with every bob of his head, hiding his dark brown eyes momentarily. His white button-up hugged his skinny frame, accenting what little he did have. A few kids were loitering around, listening to the band as they performed. A few of Bobby’s fellow seniors were playing with him, his best friend, Marcus, was currently bobbing his head as he slammed his drumsticks into the drums.

You propped your bike up against the wall, offering Bobby a friendly smile as he saw you. An awkward smile settled on his face as he tossed an m&m into his mouth quickly before returning to playing the keyboard. You shook your head before moving to the office where the owner, Ronnie Lark, was currently sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork.

“Hey,” you said, closing the glass door behind you. Instantly, the office was drowned in silence, the sound of the band washed into the background. “I figured I would stop by and see how my baby is doing.”

Ronnie chuckled, looking up from his paperwork. “Once they’re done playing, I’ll get Bobby and we’ll talk about your car,” he responded. Tilting his head to the side, you followed his gaze to see him staring out the window behind you. “It looks like they’re about done with their rehearsal. Come on.” Standing up, he came over and placed a hand on your back, leading you back into the main part of the garage.

The kids who were listening to the band cheered as the song came to an end. Bobby wasted no time as he jogged over to where the two of you were standing, a wide grin on his chocolate-colored skin tone. “Hey, Y/N, you’re here.” His hand timidly shook as he glanced down at his feet. “So uh, you here to see the Mustang?”

“Yeah, just wanting to see how much money I’m gonna need to pay when she’s finished.” Satisfied with your answer, Bobby lead the way to where your baby blue ‘74 Ford Mustang was resting, the hood of the car propped up while one of the workers was currently working on adjusting something to do with the motor.

“Well,” Ronnie said, slapping the roof of the car as he came to lean against the side of the car, “currently we’re just about wrapped up with all of the repairs. Everything in total was around $1,000 but you’ve already invested $300. So that leaves $700.” He gave you a toothy grin before looking towards the hood. “Hey Davey, you about done there?”

The man jumped, clearly not expecting the voice. “U-Uh, just about another hour of work a-and... it’ll be done,” he mumbled awkwardly before returning to his work.

You let a smile take over your face as you smoothed a hand along the top of your car... your baby.  $700 was a big order, though, and it almost made your smile disappear. “$700...” You couldn’t possibly come up with any ideas of how to come up with that money, especially not before your birthday in 3 weeks.

“Ya know,” Bobby said, pulling you from your thoughts, “I can make it to where the work I did doesn’t account for the total. It’d drop the price by about $100.”

“Bobby! No!” you quickly shouted, causing everyone around you to stare at you in shock. You quickly retracted under their gazes, staring down at your hands. “I-I can’t ask you to use your pay to try and help me. You need that money for college next year.”

“Ya but... I want to.” He gave you big puppy dog eyes, so hopeful that you would take up his offer to try and help.

Shaking your head, you place a friendly hand on his shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. “Thank you. It’s a very sweet offer. Really, it is. But I can’t ask that of you. I’ll find this money myself, okay?”

He sighed in defeat before nodding. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, staring down at his feet. “Whatever you say.”

You turned your attention to Ronnie, who was currently giving Bobby a weird look. Something was nagging at the back of your head, telling you that you knew exactly what that look meant, but you didn’t want to deal with it at the moment. “So,” you finally said, turning Ronnie’s attention back towards yourself, “I’ll probably have to break it up into a couple checks but I should have that payment done by the end of this month.” Just in time for you sixteenth birthday.

“I know you will, which is why I’m gonna let you take it home with you when you bring me that first check.” He gave you a knowing wink before leaning against the drivers-side car door. “Just make sure to not wreck it. Don’t wanna have to up that price anymore than it already has been, do you hear me?”

“Y-Yes! Yes, of course! I’ll be extra careful while driving.” Ronnie chuckled at your enthusiasm as you practically tripped over yourself to shake his hand and pull him into a hug. “I swear I’ll be the most cautious driver out there.”

With that, they shooed you out of the garage. All your previously pent up anger was gone as your thoughts focused solely on the car that, providing you got a check to him soon, would be yours before you could even bat an eyelash. Your bike home was so much more relaxing as your mind filled with images of you driving around San Francisco, the hood down on your Mustang as the wind whipped your hair around.

In the back of your mind, you knew you would be upset with your mother the moment you entered the house. However, you let yourself enjoy your bike ride, taking your time as you filled your head with happy thoughts about your baby. Anything to do with being a princess was long forgotten as you leisurely made your way through the streets of San Francisco.

That was the life you wanted.

----

The sound of talking distracted you while you got ready for school the next day. You were standing in front of your mirror, part of your daily ritual, when you heard the front door open and close downstairs. The sound of people talking filled the otherwise quiet air, and you couldn’t help but groan at the thought of dealing with the people downstairs. You were certain that you were aware of who was downstairs with your mother.

Your grandmother.

Sighing, you grabbed your book bag and you phone, throwing a look over to La Chatte Mari, curled up on the corner of your bed, her chest slowly rising and failing with each breath. “I gotta go, kitty,” you murmured, kneeling beside her and brushing a hand along her head. Instantly, her head popped up and followed your hand, begging for more attention. You smiled sadly, running a finger under her chin and scratching gently. She purred, and the sound was a great relief from the muffled voices coming from downstairs.

“Y/N! Please come down here! You’re going to be late for school!” your mother called. Sighing, you stood up, throwing one final look at yourself in the mirror.

“Well, this is as good as it’s ever gonna get,” you mumbled before dragging your feet across the floor as you approached the fireman’s pole located in the back of your room. You gave your cat one last sad look before sliding down the pole.

In front of you was your mother, sitting opposite of your grandmother at the kitchen table. You shook your head before grabbing the trash bag sitting on the edge of the table. “I’m going to school,” you muttered coldly, turning away from the two of them. “Unless you have some new thing to tell me, like how La Chatte Mari is a princess in Wakanda or something like that.”

Your grandmother sighed, her eyes close momentarily as she gathered her thoughts together. Once they reopened, she offered you a smile. “My dear, I have a proposition. There’s a state dinner at the end of this week, and a press conference a week later where we shall announce you as Crown Princess of Genovia. I would like to ask that you attend some classes so that we may work on so that, at the very least, you will be ready for the press conference.”

“What?” you practically shouted, turning your hostility towards your mother now. “I don’t want to be a princess! I’ve told you this! I don’t want these stupid classes!”

“Y/N, relax!” your mother practically shouted, silencing your semi-temper tantrum. “You would just do these classes until the press conference, where you can choose to take the role of princess or not. Okay?” She gave both of you a hard stare, the dark circles under her eyes evident in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen.

Not wanting to continue this problem any further, you shoulders slumped forward in resignation. “Fine,” you grumbled, your grip tightening on the plastic trash bag. “Can I go to school?”

“Yes, about that,” your grandmother said, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “I have a driver who will be seeing you to school and to the mansion right after. Just so you know, your... socks and shoes... are not proper attire. I’ll have tights and heels delivered to the mansion in your size so that you may change after school. The driver is Benjamin, the man you met yesterday.”

You groaned, for the hundredth time since this whole fiasco started. “Fine, whatever. He can drive me. But I demand to be dropped off and picked up a block away from school. If anyone sees me in a limo, I’ll be bullied for the next twenty years.”

“As long as Benjamin is okay with this, I see no problems with your request.” Your eyes rolled, and you were sure that both your mother and grandmother had momentarily only seen the whites of your eyes with how far back into your head your eyes seemed to roll. “Well then, you should be off to school, Little Miss. You have a big day ahead, what with your studying for final exams and your first... princess class, as you put it.”

“Whatever. I’m off, bye.” You didn’t wait for them as you stormed out of the brightly colored front door, easily tossing the white bag into the tie-dyed trash can. In front of the house was two jet black limousines where Benjamin, the man from yesterday, was casually leaning against the passenger side door. He was clad in a black leather jacket, black turtleneck, and black slacks. Perched on the edge of his nose was a pair of black shades, barely concealing his had brown eyes as your next door neighbor, Mr. Alkaseltzer, starred at the limos in pure shock as he somehow managed to stutter out questions.

“S-So, are you a spy or sumthin’?” he drawled, trying to reach a hand out to touch Benjamin.

With lightning fast reflexes, Benjamin grabbed Mr. Alkaseltzer’s hand, stopping his hand from moving any closer. “I’m not a spy,” he muttered, his voice cold. His eyes starred down the writer as he scurried away, mumbling something along the lines of, “only a spy would say sumthin’ like that.”

The sounds of heels walking behind you announced that your grandmother had followed you out the door. “Ah, Benjamin, there you are,” she smiled warmly, crossing in front of you to greet him. “Y/N has requested that you drop her off a block from the school, and I see no reason to disagree with her request.”

A smirk tugged at the man’s lips as he removed his sunglasses and placed them in his pocket. He glanced over to you, studying you for a moment before shrugging. “If it’s what she wants then I will gladly oblige. Is there anything else I can do for you?” His question was directed towards yourself, and his need to suddenly encourage you to talk made you want to trip over your feet.

“U-Uh, could we pick up my friend, Z? She lives about two blocks from here, and it’s on the way to the school. Besides, I’m sure she’s probably waiting for me to bike and I don’t want her to bike alone to school.”

“Sounds fine to me. Princess.” His choice of words, calling you princess, made you want to turn right around and go back into your house. You wanted to curl up in a tight ball and basically die on the spot. However, Benjamin seemed to pick up on your unease as he quickly corrected himself. “Apologies. Miss Y/N. If you’d please get inside of the limo. I do believe I will need some help to getting to your friends. These San Francisco roads are still new to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his genuine kindness despite the fact that you were clearly acting like a brat to both your grandmother and mother. “I think I can navigate you safely through the streets.”

Pleased with your answer, he opened the back door to the limo, holding it open for you. Your feet shuffled along the cement as you scurried into the backseat of the limo. Your grandmother gave you a smile and, for once, you felt like you could genuinely return it. There was something about Benjamin that just made you want to smile and be sweet. Maybe it was calming presence that seemed to outweigh the scariness of person.

Once you were settled, Benjamin moved around into the front of the limo. “Just so you know,” he said as he buckled up, “you can call me Ben.”

“What about Benny?” you asked, a small giggle escaping your lips at the nickname. In the back of your mind, you tried to imagine associating the man in front of you with the name Benny and it was such a silly idea.

“Haha, no.” His voice deadpanned at the no, giving you a small stern look through the rear view mirror before smiling. “Ben will do. How do we get to your friends house?”

“It’s just down the street. You just go straight. You’ll find a white house with a black iron gate that a girl will most likely be leaning against.” You pulled your phone out of your bag and pulled up a picture of Z, her curly hair up in it’s usual bun. “This is what she looks like.”

He chuckled momentarily, taking in the picture. Once he had it memorized, he handed the phone back to your. “Your directions are very precise, you know. White house, black fence. Very descriptive.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as the limo started to move. “You’ll know the house. It’s a pristine white. Probably being power washed as we’re speaking. Mr. Coleman prides himself on a clean house.”

He hummed in response. Music filled the silence, a song you had never heard before. You assumed it was a song well known in Genovia and let the gentle melody drift the air as the car pulled up to the Coleman’s house. Sure enough, Z was lounging against the fence, watching in confusion as the limo came to a stop in front of her.

Before Ben could jump out and run around to open your door, you jumped out, surprising the shocked Z with a tight hug.

“Woah!” she shouted in surprise before wrapping her arms around you. “Holy crap, Y/N/N, what’s this?”

“It’s a limo, courtesy of my grandmother for the time being,” you responded, not really wanting to spread the whole princess thing around just yet.

“Y/N!” Ben shouted as he came jogging around. “Y/N, I’m supposed to open the door for you, you know.” He shook his head before holding out a hand to your friend who was clearly shocked. “Benjamin Martinelli. I’ll be seeing the two of you two and from school while the two of you are still in attendance for the next two weeks.”

Zendaya’s mouth dropped open in shock as she took his hand. She looked around for a moment, as if in disbelief. Maybe she was looking for cameras, or maybe she wanted to see if other people were equally as shocked to see a limo. Finally, she returned her focus to Ben. “Wow, yeah, that sounds so cool. I-”

“Zen Garden! Is that a limo?” shouted Bobby, leaning out of the second story window of their house. “Is that Y/N?”

A groan came from Z as she shook her head, turning to look at her brother. “Why should it matter to you, Bongo? You left school a week ago. This is our new ride to school.”

Bobby disappeared from the window and, a minute later, he went slamming out of the front door, a button-up shirt hanging loosely around his shoulders. His hands worked on buckling his black dress pants, and his dress shoes were tied up together, hanging loosely around his shoulders. “I actually promised I would help one of the teachers at school, Zen Garden. Is it cool if I catch a ride?”

“Bongo-” Z started but you interrupted her.

“If you promise not to be your usual annoying self and don’t antagonize Z, then I don’t see a reason. I mean, we’re all going to the same place, right?” You gave Zendaya an apologetic look as the pure look of hostility that seemed to spark in her dark eyes as you welcomed her brother to join the two of you in the car.

Sighing, your best friend slid into the car, and you followed suit. The last person to get into the car was Bobby, and he purposefully tried to lean as close to the door when it was closed. You figured he probably wanted to get out as soon as possible to avoid his sister’s wraith and didn’t bother to ask questions. Instead, you turned your attention to Z, who was silently giving dirty glares to her brother.

“Hey,” you mumbled, grabbing her hand, “I figured it would be easier. I’m sorry. If you don’t want me to let him ride with us after today, I won’t.” You made sure your voice was quiet enough that Bobby, who was now listening to music via earbuds, wouldn’t hear.

“It’s whatever,” she muttered in defeat, leaning back into the seat. “I know why you did it, I do. I guess I just wanted to get to talk to you in the limo and now he’s here so I can’t...”

You gave her a comforting smile, squeezing her hand tightly as the limo purred to life and took off down the streets of San Francisco. Ben skillfully weaved through traffic and arrived at the school.

As the three of you got out of the car, Bobby now thankfully fully dressed, you turned to look at Z. “You ready for hell?”

“As ready as always.”

----

“Y/N, dear, you simply must straighten your shoulders,” your grandmother chided as he walked up behind you. She placed a hand on each shoulder and gently eased them back. However, due to years of horrible posture, you couldn’t help but flinch and instantly curl your shoulders back in on themselves. Your grandmother sighed and once more moved them back. “Really dear, if you can’t balance a stack of books on your head, you will be ridiculed in the media.”

“I’m not used to this,” you whined, stomping your foot on the ground. The awkwardly new angle of your new heels made the stomp hurt even more than normal. You cringed but resisted the urge to curl up in a ball. You forced your shoulders to remain as your grandmother had put them.

Every nerve in your body was on edge, although you were sure it had to do with the fact that Thomas was sitting casually in one of the elegant chairs located in the room. His hair was just as you remembered, and the cruel smirk was poorly hidden on his face as he watched you with amusement glistening in his dark chocolate eyes. “Maybe we could surgically fix her posture,” he teased.

You shot him a dirty look but following your grandmother’s directions on how to walk in a straight line. You did your best to copy her posture and the even footsteps that she made, but the heels, no matter how short they were, made it extremely difficult to do anything other than fall.

“Hmm, maybe she needs new feet, too. And eyebrows, and hair. We could do away with the whole thing if it would be easier.” Tom’s voice set your teeth on edge, and you now felt even more compelled to get this walk right in spite.

“Shut up, Tommy,” you shot back, glaring at him. At your nickname, his eyes started to burn with hostility as he suddenly stood up, walking closer to where you were currently.

The look in his eyes and the threatening way he stalked towards you caused you to stumble back until you were pressed against the wall, his arms encasing you and preventing you from moving. He studied you carefully, his stare calculated yet filled with so much aggression. “Don’t. Call. Me. Tommy,” he hissed before pushing away from you.

You glanced around the room to look at everyone’s reactions. Elenora’s jaw was dropped in pure shock at the boy’s behavior. Ben looked ready to murder the kid right on the spot for both being a jerk and for scaring you like he did. Your grandmother definitely looked the most annoyed of the three, and you couldn’t figure out at who. You wanted to believe it was at Tommy but you couldn’t help but think that she was annoyed at you for something he did.

“If the two of you are done acting like children, I’d very much like to continue.” Just as you had guessed, she was very annoyed. Luckily, it was at the both of you, so you at least knew that Tommy was feeling some kind of remorse for making the Queen of Genovia annoyed. After a few moments of silence passed, she continued on with your lesson.

Once you were able to walk with one book balanced on your head, everyone was clearly becoming hungry. You never meant for your lessons to last so long, but walking was hard. Plus every comment that came out of Tommy’s mouth resulted in a small argument that stopped anything from happening for the next minute. You even threw around his favorite nickname a few times, and it resulted in similar situations from earlier. The only difference was that you held your ground, meeting his fiery eyes with defiant ones.

“Your Highness, the cook has just alerted me that dinner is done and the table is set for four,” Elenora announced as she walked in, her phone in her hand as she read the text that the cook has sent to her. “Should I tell the servers to get ready before we settle in?”

“Yes, thank you,” you grandmother said, throwing a thankful glance to Elenora who quickly left to give out orders. She glanced at both yourself and Thomas and motioned to follow. “Go on, go to the table so that you can eat. I’ll go grab your Uncle, Thomas, and I’ll be back soon.”

And so the two of you were left alone in the large dining room, throwing glares in each others directions. You were instructed to sit at one end of the table by Elenora who stated that, “Your grandmother will sit at the head and she instructed that you sit exactly opposite of her.” This left for Tommy to sit to your left.

Neither one of you spoke until both your grandmother and his uncle, a man with graying hair that framed his balding head and a big midsection that almost bulged out of his suit. In your grandmother’s hands was a scarf. You gave her a confused look until she walked up behind you and used it to tie your shoulders back to the chair. “Um?! What are you doing?” you practically shouted, using your hands to claw at the tight fabric.

“A proper princess never slouches to eat her food,” was her only response as she calmly walked to the other side of the table and gracefully took her seat. You awkwardly patted at the table, trying desperately to grab a fork. You mentally cursed at yourself for not having the chair pushed in fully as it made your job of reaching for you silverware ten times harder than it should have been.

A snicker came from Tommy which earned him an angry glare from both yourself and your grandmother. His uncle only shook his head, a smirk settled on his lips. You wanted to question why he was smirking, but instead were now focused on the food placed in front of you.

“For your soup,” your grandmother commanded from the head of the table, “you’ll want to use the spoon the furthest on the right. You work your way in with your silverware, so the spoon, knife, and fork closest to the plate will be the last that are used.” You nodded your head and were, thankfully, pushed a little bit closer by one of the servants that had just served food. You grabbed the proper spoon and used it to consume the mildly warm soup.

Dinner progressed about as well as you would have guessed. Your grandmother would constantly command you on what to do, correcting the errors you seemed to make without realizing so. By the time the last course was served, you were ready to bolt. Thomas and his constant snickering were starting to get to you, so much so that you even stopped calling him Tommy. Your grandmother’s disapproving looks at the smallest of things made you want to hide, but the stupid scarf made it impossible to do anything.

The moment the scarf was untied, you quickly jumped to your feet. “Please say I can go home,” you almost begged your grandmother. Your feet were killing you from wearing heels for the first time, and everything felt so freaking restricted. You wanted to bolt home yourself and change into the comfiest clothes that you owned.

Frankly, you just wanted to shrink away.

“Yes, of course. I’ll have Benjamin drive you home. I would change back into your shoes, you look as though you’re about to faint on your feet.” You gave her thankful look as you quickly grabbed your bag and ran to the closest bathroom. You flinched as you kicked of the heels. You peeled away the pantyhose that were starting to stick to your skin due to sweat and sat down on the toilet seat to rub your raw ankles that were free from both the heels and the uncomfortable pantyhose.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opened and you screamed as Thomas walked in. Clearly he wasn’t aware of the fact that you were in there until you screamed because his shocked eyes were suddenly looking at you, wide and filled with terror as he took you in. You quickly dropped your legs and crossed them, your face burning from embarrassment. “Get out!”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as the door suddenly slammed shut, followed by a shout of, “Lock the door next time!”

“Knock next time!” you retorted, voice dripping with malice. Shaking your head, you quickly pulled out your shoes and socks, pulling them on as fast as you could.

When you stood up, it felt weird to suddenly be on solid ground. However, it wasn’t an unpleasant weird. You shoved the heels and stockings into your bag before rushing out of the bathroom. Right outside was Ben, who was giving you a weird look.

“What was that shout?” he inquired, leaning against the wall as he examined you. You were currently walking a bit weirdly, still not used to being back on solid ground after having strutted around in heels for the past four or so hours.

“Nothing!” you shouted before pausing to gather your thoughts. “Sorry. It was nothing. Can I go home?”

Ben nodded, but the question was still there, hanging in the air. You sighed and started to leave, but a voice stopped you in your tracks. “Oh, so you’re done with the bathroom and trying to blind people now, are you?” Thomas asked snidely.

Once more, your face started to burn as you pushed past Ben and headed out the door. You hurried out to the waiting limo, bundling yourself into the corner of the backseat of the limo. Ben slid into the front seat, throwing you a look in the rear view mirror.

“So, it was nothing, huh?”

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