#ysmfinb

(*) 

Alex regrets telling his grandmother that they could start lessons on Monday.

Their gig at Drake's goes from nine until half past ten, at which point another band takes the stage. While their parents are all there (all have to be there in order for them to even be able to play the gig) to drive them home right after, all of them are too amped up to fall asleep. They stay up until nearly three texting each other, first about the gig, and then about everything and nothing. Unfortunately, this means minimal sleep, as Alex's alarm comes to life only three hours later at quarter 'til six. Then it's seven and a half hours of school, and now—now…

"Why are you wearing joggers to school? To the Beasiga consulate?" his grandmother asks, and he thinks she does a great job hiding the horror with exasperation in her voice. She gives herself away with the dramatic hand to her chest, though.

Alex sighs and lifts a hand to rub at his eyes. "I had a long night, sorry. I didn't even look at what I was putting on this morning."

His grandmother huffs. She drops her hand from her chest, shaking her head as she looks him up and down. "Dear, you've got to care about how you present yourself, tired or not. Even were you not a prince, this is an important life skill—how you present yourself influences those around you. How they treat you, how they act, and especially what they think. How you choose to dress is how you choose to portray yourself. And it influences you as well. You would feel much more confident in a pair of well-fitted trousers, wouldn't you? And on that note—your hair."

Alex frowns. "My hair?" He reaches up and runs his fingers through it. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Well, nothing really. But do you not think you could shape it up some? Use some product?"

Alex pulls a face.

His grandmother looks at him. "I'll call in my stylist. How's Thursday? We'll get you set with a new wardrobe and new hair, all right?"

"Wait a minute—"

"If you don't like it you can go back to wearing your old clothes," she waves him off, "and your hair will grow back, won't it? Just give it a chance, will you?"

Alex isn't sure if it's because she's making fair points or if he's really, really tired, but he nods. "Yeah, okay."

Which is then how he finds himself sitting in the ballroom of the consulate three days later as Tasha—his grandmother's stylist—unclips the barber's cape from behind his neck and throws it off of him. He watches as it, and the rest of his hair that had fallen on to it, falls to the floor. He feels bad for whoever has to clean this room later. He's not given the chance to feel bad for too long though, because Tasha is spinning the chair around to face the mirror. He looks up and—

It's actually. Not that bad.

The sides are a little too short for him, and he's going to hate using product every morning to get it to stand up, but… it looks normal. It looks good.

"Wow," he says, for Tasha, Alden, and his grandmother's benefit. "I like it."

"Oh, wonderful!" his grandmother exclaims, clapping her hands together while rising to her feet. "Tasha, thank you for all your work today."

"Of course, ma'am," Tasha says, curtseying politely. "It is always my pleasure to work with you, you must know."

"I do," she smiles, and takes the hand that Tasha holds out to her in hers and nods once. "Thank you, dear. I will contact you for my hair for the dinner in a few weeks as well, is that all right with you?"

"Yes, that's fine. And it was my pleasure, ma'am," Tasha says again, and then she's gone, and Alex is alone with his grandmother while Alden escorts Tasha out.

His grandmother walks up, standing behind the chair and placing her hands on his shoulders. She makes eye contact with him through the mirror and smiles. "Do you know what I think?" she asks. He hums a question. "You look like a prince."

He holds back a grimace at those words and assesses himself in the mirror. He's wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a pale pink henley with the sleeves of the shirt pushed up nearly to his elbow. Half of him thinks that he looks like every asshole he's ever wanted to punch for catcalling Julie and Flynn when they were out walking around LA, half of him… kind of agrees with his grandmother. Now that he knows he's technically a prince, and now that he is dressed like this, and presented like this… he can see it.

It scares him.

"Uh, yeah," he agrees. "The clothes aren't half bad, either." They're not. They're really, really not. The clothes Tasha had thrown at him this afternoon were just regular looking clothes, albeit most of them are designer brand, but they're just… picked out for him, fitted to him, and then put together for him so he doesn't have to worry about whether or not something will match.

"You like them then?" his grandmother asks.

Alex nods, lifting his arms and looking down to study his current outfit again. "I do. Not as… posh as I was expecting."

She laughs brightly, and squeezes his shoulders. "No, of course not, Alexander. I know you're still in high school. I would never want to make you stand out. No. No, the goal here was to give you more confidence in yourself, that would never work if you felt you were dressed in some rubbish outfit that stood out at your school." She takes a deep breath and releases it. "Ah! I'm so glad you like it! You must tell me what your friends think tomorrow."

(Huh.

It scared him before.

He's terrified now.)

He doesn't have to wait long to find out what his friends think. His bus gets to the school seven almost every day—today is no different. Reggie and Flynn live on the same street and take the same but which always gets there two or three minutes after Alex's. Luke drives, and since he and Julie live a block away from each other, he gives her a ride. They're almost always there five minutes after seven, sometimes earlier, sometimes later. Willie drives himself but he's a toss up as to when—or if—he'll show up each day because of his other friends. Classes don't start until 7:22, and, apart from Willie, their lockers are all in the same bay, and their first classes are all in the same two wings that are right next to each other, so they all spend their mornings together. So Alex knows that it won't be long before—

"Look at you, buddy!" Luke yells, jumping on to Alex's back, one arm wrapping around Alex's shoulder and neck to cling for dear life, while the other musses up Alex's styled hair. Shit, he should have expected that. Maybe he should have left it unstyled for the first few days. "Lookin' all fancy like, lookin' all—"

"Luke, get off of him," Julie commands, and Alex feels himself sway back. He grabs on to the inside of his locker so Julie pulling Luke off of Alex's back won't pull him over, too. A few seconds later, Luke drops off his back, and Alex stands up straight again. He turns to glare at Luke who is smiling innocently. Julie steps forward from beside her boyfriend and reaches a hand toward Alex's head. "Here, let me," she says, and then starts running her fingers through Alex's hair, tugging it until it's in place again. When she's done she wipes her hands on her jeans and steps back. "There. Back to normal before this one had to ruin it. It looks good! New clothes too?"

"Uh, yeah," Alex nods, shifting on his feet and pushing his sleeves up his arms, just to have something to do with his hands. It doesn't occupy them for long, so they drop back uselessly to his side. "My, uh. Grandma. She? She wanted to—she wanted to uh, spoil me a bit, I guess?"

"Dude, you should have asked for a new kit," Luke tells him.

Julie roles her eyes and throws a backhand into his gut. "Alex just got a new kit in March, Luke."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be awesome if he had two? Then he could keep one at the studio and at his house."

"I, uh, don't think my mom would've let me get away with that, since she didn't even let me keep the old one," Alex makes up. "It's whatever. The clothes are cool, too, I guess."

"Hey, buddy!" Reggie's voice breaks in. "What happened to you?"

"Wow, Alex," Flynn adds, "are you getting… fancy—" she winks "—for someone?"

"Wh—? No. It—my grandma bought me stuff, took me for a haircut, she just wanted to do something nice for me."

"She did something nice for someone," Flynn grins, looking at Julie, who shares a look with her best friend. Alex wants to ask but at the same time, he really does not.

Julie mumbles something under her breath to Flynn. She then looks over Alex's shoulder and her smile widens. "Oh! Speaking of…"

Alex furrows his eyebrows together and twists around preparing for something potentially humiliating, only to relax immediately when he sees Willie. Willie's smile falters when he must see Alex's new look and his step stutters, but he recovers quickly and he offers a wide smile when he makes eye contact with Alex. Alex can feel the smile grow on his own face. "Hey," he says once Willie is close enough to hear.

"Tell me about it, stud," Willie grins, reaching up to brush something off of Alex's shoulder.

Alex feels his face growing hot. Did—did Willie just call him a stud? In front of all of their friends? He looks at their friends who are all grinning wide—such a non-reaction that Alex is sure his must have imagine Willie's words—and then back to Willie. "What?"

"What?" Luke cries. "Have you never seen Grea—has he never seen Grease?" he demands, turning to Julie. Julie sighs heavily, reaching up to pat Luke's chest, as he rambles to her something about a missed experience and movie night and she's the one that he wants. Alex gives him a look, and then turns back to Willie.

"Sorry, I guess. If that was a reference, I didn't get it."

"No worries, bro," Willie says. He looks at the rest of the group. "We should have a movie night though, if only to keep Luke from premature death."

"Thank you!" Luke shouts. "Do we want to do it tonight or tomorrow?"

"Luke's taking no prisoners on this one," Reggie leans over and says as an aside to Willie and Alex, still clearly loud enough for Luke to hear. He leans back upright and looks at Luke, "I'm good for either."

"Same," Flynn says. 

"I'll be with my grandma this evening," Alex says. "So tomorrow would probably work best."

Luke raises an eyebrow. "You'll be with her all night?"

"I go over after school and I'm there until seven. So if we do it tomorrow we'll have more time," Alex explains, hoping they won't think too much into the amount of time he's spending with her and why it's so structured. But, well. Non-princes have structured visits with their grandparents too, right? He honestly can't remember. His last grandparent passed away when he was twelve.

"Saturday it is then," Julie decides. "That work for you, Willie?"

"Yeah, I can make that work," he says. "You guys finish practice at four, right?"

"Yeah, we usually aim for somewhere around there," Julie confirms. "So you can come over any time after four."

"Right," he nods, and snaps his fingers, instantly turning them into finger guns, pointing them at Flynn. "You want a ride, then?"

"Please," Flynn says, and Willie nods, reaching forward to high five her. When their hands collide, she clasps his hand in hers. "We can make our own band in the ride over too."

"Ooh," Willie cringes, "not sure if you want me in your band. Unless you just want me to dance for you. I've got that covered no problem, but anything beyond that, I—" he makes a face and pulls his hand back from hers to drag it across his neck in a cutting motion (even though Alex knows he can sing). "No go."

"Fine," Flynn huffs. "I guess we can let them have their thing."

"Oh, that's sweet," Reggie hums, propping an arm on Flynn's shoulder—the only one who could ever dream of getting away with that. "Did you hear that guys? She's going to let us have our thing."

"How considerate," Julie coos.

Alex holds up his hands in a show of innocence. "I'm an innocent bystander if Luke murders Flynn for calling our band a thing."

"I wasn't going to murder her," Luke rolls his eyes, shoving at Alex's shoulder.

"Maiming her is also a crime," Willie adds.

The group around Alex laughs and Alex feels his chest expand, happy to be with his people. It's not that prince lessons have been horrible, but they've definitely taken a lot out of him this week, especially being added on top of his schoolwork. He barely has time to talk to his friends anymore, let alone be with them like this. Even at lunch he's been working on homework, just so it's more that he doesn't have to do later that night. They've all been great about it—offering to help with his homework, catching him between classes just to get in their four minute conversations, and staying up a few minutes later than normal to text with him when he finally finishes homework for the night. But… this. The entire presence of the entire group is just rejuvenating and Alex is angry that he's only got a few minutes of it left. But he's going to soak it up for as long as he can, because he knows that he owes his happiness to his friends and right now, he's really happy.

At lunch, he's busy doing his math assignment, even though it's Friday. With band practice and the movie night tomorrow, and prince lessons on Sunday, he's not sure how much time he'll have this weekend for his homework. He's sure his grandmother would cut back on the lessons if needed, but if he can get it done at school just as easily, he might as well. He's hunched over his book and worksheet while his friends all make noise around him, Reggie jostling him every once in a while. Willie, however, never once bumps into Alex even though Alex can see Willie stand up multiple times to reach across the table to wrestle something away that Luke has stolen from him. It's surprisingly easy to get his work done despite the chaos. His anxiety drives him, causing him to hyper fixate on his work, but that also means that, like Tuesday, he forgets to eat.

The bell rings and Alex snaps his head up looking around him, his nearly completed math assignment still under his pencil. His friends are all getting up. Reggie grabs the piece of pizza off of Alex's tray and shoves it in his mouth. He mumbles around the food in his mouth, that only years of hearing Reggie speak with food in his mouth allows Alex to make out "you snooze you lose." He is, however, at least decent enough to throw away the tray of the food that he ate, so Alex doesn't complain too much.

He closes his worksheet in his math book, bookmarking the page where he left off, and slips the book into his backpack. He moves to stand up, but as he spins on the bench, he realizes Willie is still sitting next to him. When they make eye contact, Willie flicks his eyebrows up and down and smiles. "Back with us, hot dog?"

"Yeah. Sorry for ignoring you guys, I just—"

"Hey, no, that's not—" He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a bag of trail mix. "You didn't eat Tuesday, kind of assumed it was going to happen again at some point so I came prepared. Now at least you'll have something, dude."

Alex takes the pack from him and wills his face not to burst into flames and nods. "Yeah, thanks, Willie."

They both stand up and walk out of the cafeteria, heading towards their classes. When they reach the D wing, where Willie is meant to turn and Alex is meant to continue straight, Willie grabs Alex's hand and pulls him through the group of students to the wall. Alex follows confused, but willing, and frowns at Willie when Willie turns to him and leans against the wall. "D'you think your grandma would let me pick you up today instead of having her guard dogs take you home?" Willie asks.

"Huh? Why?"

Willie shrugs, nonchalant. "Haven't gotten to talk to you outside of text all week, and even text has been pretty sparse. I know you're busy, I get it, I do. But I kinda just wanna hang."

"What about tomorrow?"

Willie scoffs. "Come on, it's gonna go like every other movie night we have after band practice—you're going to make it through the first movie, which, by the way Luke's not going to let us talk through since you've never seen Grease before, and then you're going to be asleep within the first thirty minutes of the next."

"I will not—I won't—I—whatever," Alex mutters. He wants to refute it, but he can't drudge up a memory to do so. "I'll talk to my grandma. I don't see why it should be an issue."

"Great," Willie grins. "Have a great rest of your day, yeah? Text me the answer and address." He glances at the clock. "And you might wanna hurry to class too." Alex looks at the clock and curses, turning and rushing down the hall. He makes it to class with a few seconds to spare, and the anxiety of nearly being tardy morphing into the immediate focusing on class doesn't let him think too much on his potential… hang with Willie later.

When he gets to lessons that day, he asks his grandmother later if Willie can pick him up and she tells him yes. So at seven he bids goodbye to her, Alden, and John, the head of security. Willie's car is parked in the driveway and, just like last Friday when he came to pick him up just down the street, it looks entirely out of place in this neighborhood. Alex doesn't care. He gets in the car, placing his backpack on the floor, and buckles himself in. Willie had started driving as soon as he shut the door, so when Alex looks up, they're already turned out of the driveway. "Where to, then?"

"I'm not sure," Willie shrugs. "I didn't plan that far ahead."

"You're a horrible date," Alex jokes, sinking further into his seat.

Willie casts a look at Alex. "Yeah?" he grins.

"The worst."

"Well I guess I just have to step up my game then," Willie hums, and flicks his turn signal on to switch lanes. It seems like he's made his mind up where they were going. "So how's school been—how did your midterms go? Junior year kicked my ass, and I didn't have the added pressure of learning to become a prince."

Alex laughs, but starts talking about his classes and what he got on his midterms, before asking Willie about his classes as well, and about what Alex should expect next year. About twenty minutes later, Willie is pulling into a parking lot, pulling out his wallet as he does so he can pay. Alex looks around at where they are and frowns. They're near Venice Beach but not at Venice Beach, so Alex isn't sure what Willie's plan is here. However, there's a parking lot here, so Alex figures there must be something of significance.

They get out of the car and right away Willie leads him in one direction and, well, it all makes sense then.

"Seriously?" Alex groans.

"What, hot dog?" Willie asks, turning to him, holding his arms out at his sides. "Are you not impressed with my date?"

"This is the most cliché Los Angles date," Alex tells him, taking a few longer strides so he can catch up to Willie, who's walking up on one side of the Venice Canals.

"Is it? Is it really? Because by the look on your face you didn't even know where we were until just now. I think I'm winning at this whole date thing."

All right.

They really need to stop saying 'date' before Alex starts to get his hopes up. They're already up enough as it is—adding in banter about their non-existent date is… not helping him.

"Just because I've never been here before—"

"You've never been here before?"

"No. My parents don't really do tourist-y places," he says.

A smile spreads on Willie's face. "Oh, that probably means I have more date material, doesn't it? All the tourist spots you've missed out on your entire life?"

Alex hums, and doesn't comment, because fuck, stop saying date.

"This was actually my parents first date, too," Willie says, and Alex's mind malfunctions at the 'too.' Sorry, too? Too? He runs Willie's words back in his head. Yeah, he definitely said too. "They met at Venice Beach and decided to keep their first date close to where they met since they thought maybe it was lucky or something." Too. "That's what my mom says, anyways. My dad always laughs when she says that, never agrees, but never disagrees, either. I definitely don't agree, I don't think Venice is lucky or anything." Too. "I do think it's a good spot though, cliché or not. You can't deny that it's a great place, right? So, c'mon, hot dog. You can go on and admit that I'm actually the best date."

Alex laughs. He hopes it's just him that it sounds off to. "Not a chance, puka. A date isn't just the location, you know."

Willie quirks his eyebrows and pokes his tongue in his cheek. "You're right." He reaches over, grabs Alex's hand, and tugs. They start walking the canals and Alex expects Willie to drop his hand but he doesn't. "I can't ask first date questions since we already know everything about each other—" first date. Alex is maybe panicking. "—so you gotta help me out here. What don't I know about you?"

Alex's brain is currently short-circuiting, so thinking of these things isn't easy for him at the moment. He takes a minute to really think about everything that Willie knows about him and says, "I actually like the sofritas at Chipotle more than the steak. When Julie told me it had more sugar it ruined my whole 'it's healthier' disguise."

"Dude, I know that," Willie laughs. "You devour sofritas. No, that doesn't count. Something else."

"I hoard books. I've literally got over a thousand books. I have three book shelves in my room and—"

"No, I knew that, too. I've been to the bookstore with you, and I've seen your room on Snapchat. Something else, man, dig deep."

"Okay, here," Alex starts. "No one knows—well, actually Julie probably knows at this point. But Reggie and Flynn don't—"

"Luke does?"

"I'm getting there," Alex says. He pauses. "He was my first kiss. And second and third and—a lot. We didn't… date? But both of us wanted… practice."

"Really," Willie whistles. "When was this? I thought he's been all eyes for Julie since he met her?"

"Yeah but they didn't get together until sophomore year. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he was practicing for her," Alex admits. "I didn't care. It was just… nice, at the time."

"Huh. Well, yeah, okay, definitely didn't know that one," Willie acknowledges.

"Yeah," Alex laughs, "like I said, no one does."

"All right, your turn."

"You're not just going to answer?"

"You wanna ask the same question then? Something you don't know about me?"

"Oh." Alex looks down at the ground. In the corner of his eye he can see their hands swinging together. He looks towards them. They look completely fine even though it feels like his hand is on fire. "Uh," he clears his throat, and looks back up, looking at Willie. "If you could talk to any animal, what would it be?"

Willie's step falters and Alex opens his mouth, about to take it back, ask for a redo, when, "like, any species of animal, or like, a single… one animal, like, say I had a pet dog, I could only talk to that pet dog?"

"Like, a species?" Alex says, voice lilting into a question.

Willie hums, thoughtful, but he looks genuinely into the question, so Alex doesn't ask to take it back even though he feels like it had been a ridiculous question. Willie's face is so focused that Alex doesn't want to break him out of it. After a minute, he picks his head up from where he'd been watching the ground as they walked, and looks over at Alex with a confident look on his face. "Crows. Hands down. They're supposed to be one of the smartest animals out there. Did you know they understand water displacement? Like, scientists did an experiment where they put treats in water in long, skinny test tubes and gave the crows objects. They-they figured out that the heavier the object, the higher the treat rose. They learn safe and dangerous places to go, and they can remember good and bad people, and hold grudges against bad people and even pass those grudges down through generations. And they, sometimes they hold funerals? Which I think is really cool of them. They're can make their own tools or use things around them—there are crows that drop nuts in the street during red lights in path of car tires, let the cars run the nuts over, wait for the light to turn red again, and then go get the food. They just… they seem so cool, y'know? I'd love to talk to something that intelligent that isn't human."

In the second that it takes Alex to blink, he falls even further in love with Willie. Alex… can't believe that Willie is real. He took Alex's dumbass question and ran with it and didn't give some half-assed answer like most everyone else would have done. He put genuine thought into a inane question and even before he answered he had made Alex feel relaxed for asking a question that Alex had thought was dumb. Alex feels so at ease around Willie, even when he does something foolish like ask a completely out of place question, and Willie just… makes him feel like it's okay. Willie makes him feel like it's not an out of place question.

"Alright, sticking with the animal theme, if you could be an animal for one day—what day?"

Willie really makes him feel like it's not an out of place question. 

"I—" Alex goes to answer the question, then narrows his eyes. Well that's not how he expected the question to end. He looks over at Willie and sees his shoulders shaking as he giggles to himself. He goes with it, just like Willie had. "Is it every week or just this upcoming day?"

"Hm. Every week."

"Sunday," Alex decides. "It'd get me out of the seven hour lessons I have coming up every Sunday for the next month and half for the foreseeable future and after that… wait, is this like… a werewolf situation where like… Sunday, boom, I'm an animal? Or do I get to like, change at will?"

"Let's go on the side of chaos. Boom, you're an animal."

"Oh, great. That's fun. That's awesome. I hope I'm not a dangerous animal."

"Nah, man," Willie grins, bringing his hand that's not holding on to Alex's and swinging it to bump Alex in the chest. "You'd be a golden retriever. But like, one who wasn't taken out enough as a puppy, you know? So you're scared of shit."

"Makes sense. Yeah, though, still Sunday. Gets me out of lessons. And it can't be Saturdays because of band practice, and I can't miss a day every week of school a year, so. Sunday is the only option. Plus maybe my parents would stop giving me disappointed looks every time I didn't go with them to church. I can't Mom, Dad, I'm on four paws and slobbering."

Willie swings their hands exaggeratedly between them. "Who knows? Maybe if you were a dog they'd have an excuse to clip a leash to you and literally drag you to church." Alex looks at Willie, horror on his face. Willie laughs. "Alright. Your turn."

He looks back ahead. He dodges out of the way of a couple that's passing them, which means he has to press his body closer to Willie's. When they separate again, his mind is going so fast he can't keep up. He tries to think of something, tries to come up with anything. "What are you most proud of?"

Willie's eyebrows go up. Alex thinks he's asked another stupid question for a second until, "huh. That's a good question. I'm… not sure? Obviously I'm really proud of my dancing, I'm really proud of my grades, my dedication to my work… I'm really proud of my skateboarding. I've come a long way with that, and it's… you know my skateboarding is like… is like my happy place. But I also don't skateboard to show off or for a job? So saying that I'm most proud of it doesn't feel right." He looks over at Alex and studies him. He tilts his head, and then looks back out at the path they're following again. "I'm proud of my friendship," he decides. "I'm proud when the kids at the skate park come to me when they need help with a trick, or when they want to show off a new trick. And when Flynn and Julie ask me to help them prank you guys. And when Reggie feels safe enough to tell me about his parents fighting again, and takes me up on my offer to hang out at midnight just to get him out of the house. And when Luke asks my opinion on a new song and genuinely cares about my opinion. And when I help you through a panic attack, and see you come back to yourself and know that you're okay. And—and just hanging with you guys, making you smile, making you laugh. I'm proud of that."

He feels overwhelmed for a moment, but when it passes, he feels so genuinely grateful to have a friend like Willie. To have someone who is not only willing to help him through his darkest moments, but is proud to do so, who isn't ashamed or embarrassed to be associated with the kid who has anxiety. He's grateful that his friends have someone like Willie: that Flynn and Julie have another mind to help them—with school as well as their pranks. And Willie not only helps Reggie with his parents, but sometimes Reggie will see Willie playing with a fidget toy and a few days later at lunch Willie will toss it to Reggie, holding up a new one saying his parents had accidentally gotten him two. Then with Luke, Willie helps him get away from music and just exist in the world and he's one of only five people who can do that, so that's amazing enough on it's own. And with Alex, Willie is there through the hard times, yes, but Alex loves most when they're celebrating the good times together because that's when Alex can appreciate it the most. It's just—Willie's incredible, he's an incredible friend, and Alex is so glad that Willie knows that.

"I think I asked the better questions," Alex murmurs, at a loss for anything else to say. But, Alex really does think he asked the better questions in the end, even if they had been dumb. Or, maybe he didn't ask the better questions; maybe Willie just had the better answers. He feels like he got so much more out of Willie than Willie got out of him and for a second, he feels guilty. This had been Willie's idea—Willie had been the one who had wanted to find out more about Alex. Alex will just have to find ways to disperse pieces of himself into the rest of their conversation today to make up for it.

Willie tips his head back and laughs. "Uh-uh, no way. My first question got out of you that your first kiss was Luke Patterson. Clearly the superior question." Alex groans and drops his head. "Yours were a close second and third, I'll give you that."

Alex huffs, feeling his face heat up. "I'll just think of a better question."

(*) 

Their movie night starts off as normal with the group in the kitchen making their snacks. Alex has no reason to suspect that anything will go differently than his past experiences. So when things do... change, he's thrown off.

In Julie's living room, there's a couch, a love seat, and a recliner. Luke and Julie always share the love seat and Flynn claims the recliner. That leaves Alex, Willie, and Reggie to figure out who gets the two armrest seats of the couch and whether the other wants to take the middle cushion or just lounge on the floor. They… don't have that issue today.

Reggie is the first one inside from band practice so he is the first one done making his popcorn so he gets first claim. When Alex and Willie make it out, Willie gestures for Alex to take the other, and quirks an eyebrow at him. "I'll figure something out," he says. Alex eyes him warily but takes the seat anyways, grateful for a place to set his water down. Willie stands there for a moment, staring between Alex and the middle cushion. He sets his popcorn next to Alex's feet, then sits on the middle cushion with his back facing Alex, and reclines himself back so he's lying across Alex's lap. He grins up at him. "Told you I'd figure it out."

Alex quite literally has no idea what to do or say. What comes out is: "I'm going to drop so much popcorn on you."

"Cool. More for me."

He's thankful for his friends, because over the next hour, every single one of them sends him a look when Willie's attention is elsewhere, which lets him know that he's not just being dramatic. This… this is new and this is—

Alex doesn't want to call it weird.

He's actually quite enjoying it, once the initial awkwardness has faded away. He likes the weight of Willie in his lap. It's grounding. And Alex has an arm across Willie's abdomen, and Willie is absentmindedly playing with Alex's hand that's resting on Willie's side, and Alex likes the feel of Willie's fingers on his. Still, it's all overwhelming, but Alex finally has his proof that he needed to refute Willie: he's wide awake and doesn't fall asleep at all through the second movie, which Willie teases him about from his lap.

He spends the rest of movie night trying not to wonder what this could possibly mean because he knows the most likely answer is that it doesn't mean anything.

Days blur together for Alex after that—he doesn't have an off day (he doesn't have an off hour). Honestly, he likes that. He likes the constant going, the constant moving, the constant action in his brain. It keeps him from lingering on one thing for too long, from letting one thing manifest and grow into something beyond itself and gnaw away at Alex until he's a shell of himself.

He has his prince lessons, therapy twice a week—which his grandmother had offered to bring to the consulate after he had a panic attack in front of her on Sunday—, school, band practice, his new Friday "date" with Willie after prince lessons, and then on Saturday the 13th, Julie and the Phantoms play Camelot, a wildly popular nightclub that they'd worked their entire high school career to book. They're excited about it, and Alex is even more excited about it because his grandmother has actually booked the VIP suite, which, as Alex had expected, hadn't been reserved. She invites Alex's parents to come as well, so they hire a baby sitter for Ava and Austin and make a night of it, and Alex plays his heart out (not that he usually doesn't, but this feels special). The next day, at his shortened Sunday prince lesson, he catches his grandmother humming along to Finally Free a few times, though he doesn't point it out. He doesn't need to bring attention to it. Just… knowing is enough.

Somehow it's already Monday the 15th, two weeks into his prince lessons. He is getting more used to the routine now. He still does his homework at lunch, but he doesn't focus quite as hard, as he has learned that he has enough time left at the end of each day to do it. Still, sometimes it is nice to watch Netflix instead of doing homework. That's his hope for tonight as he sits at their lunch table, bent over his math homework. Reggie and Flynn are lost in conversation and Willie is talking about some skating competition with Greg and Shawn, while Julie and Luke are on his phone.

"What the fuck?" Luke murmurs across the table from Alex, just loud enough to grab Alex's attention from worksheet. "What the fuck?" he says again—much, much louder. His head snaps up and his eyes, burning, land on Alex.

Alex flinches back. "Dude, what?"

Julie is leaning into Luke's space, reading whatever is on his phone that's made Luke so upset. The rest of the table is silent, even Greg and Shawn. Alex is just… waiting, at this point, really, but Luke seems too angry for words. Alex can see him literally shaking. So instead he turns to Julie to gauge what to expect from Luke based off of her reaction. The way her eyebrows are halfway up her forehead and her lips are parted, he guesses it is something big. And then her eyes flick to him. "Alex," she starts, but Luke cuts her off.

"So, what," Luke hisses leaning over the table, dropping his phone like he's completely forgotten it. "You were going to drag us along for as long as you could and then drop us at the last minute to go live in some castle in a country you didn't even know the name of a month ago?"

"Luke," Julie whispers, grabbing at his chest to pull him back.

"Thought maybe you'd get one last hurrah, but oh, no, don't even bother to mention it to us," he spits, spinning in his seat fluidly, standing up, and storming out of the cafeteria. Julie sends Alex and apologetic look and then chases after Luke. Flynn sighs and gets up from the table, chasing after her best friend.

Reggie is staring, wide eyed, shell shocked. "Uh… what?"

"I… don't know," he says even though he has a guess. But he's not sure how Luke would know or how his phone would factor in. Alex reaches for the phone that Luke had left abandoned and freezes. One of his instagram pictures is on the screen, but it's not on instagram, it's on a news site. Beneath it, there are several blocks of text.

Prince Alexander of Beasiga, 16, is a student at performing arts high school Los Feliz High School in the Los Feliz District of Los Angeles, California. The prince is in a popular pop-rock bank with three other members (Julie Molina, Luke Patterson, Reggie Peters). The band is called Julie and the Phantoms and they were last seen playing at the popular nightclub Camelot, November 13 th  where sources confirmed his identity. The prince is the band's drummer and a back up vocalist.

Alexander has been on the honor roll at his high school multiple times throughout his schooling career and is in the highly renowned music program at Los Feliz High School. He is close with a small group of friends who mostly keep to themselves. According to all sources the prince is currently unattached romantically and has never been linked to anyone, not even close friend Julie Molina.

Sources say that Prince Alexander will be presented at Beasiga's annual Independence Day Ball on December 21 st , accepting his role as future ruler of the small but mighty country.

Alex drops the phone to the table after that, completely uninterested in anything else that it has to say. He doesn't need to read a news article to know about his life. He is living it. Except he certainly isn't planning on accepting his role as future ruler of Beasiga on December 21st.

On either side of him, Willie and Reggie lean in to look at the phone. Willie's hand immediately comes up to his shoulder and squeezes while on his other side, Reggie snorts.

"Dude, what?" he laughs. "Is this news article calling you a prince?"

Alex looks at Reggie. He feels his knee start bouncing under the table, and Willie must too, because his hand goes from Alex's shoulder to Alex's knee. "Uh… yeah. It is." he says. He takes in a deep breath when Reggie laughs harder and lets it out. "Reg. It's right. I—I am."

"Oh, sure," Reggie laughs, elbowing Alex in the side. When he looks over to Alex and sees his face though, Reggie pauses. Slowly, the longer he looks at Alex, the more the smile on his face fades. After a minute it's nearly gone. "Dude, seriously?"

Alex swallows. "Yeah, Reg." He reaches for the phone and holds it up shaking his head. "But—but this isn't—I didn't—I've made no decision. Well, yeah, I have—I'm not gonna, I'm not gonna be a prince. Two weeks ago I almost passed out during my public speaking midterm. Do you really think I'm planning to throw away the band to be a public figure for the rest of my life? Do you think that'd go well for any of us?"

"Of course not," Reggie says, seemingly offended that Alex thinks Reggie could share Luke's thoughts. "You love our band. I know that. Besides, even if you were going to move and become prince, we'd find a way to make it work."

Alex stares at Reggie for a long moment, and then feels a small smile form. "Thanks, Reg."

Reggie shakes his head. "That's not something you thank me for, man. That's just how we work. We're a band. That doesn't stop just because you're royalty now."

"You're taking this surprisingly well," Willie says from Alex's other side. "I knew Luke was gonna freak—didn't realize how much—, I said Julie's gonna try and find a way to fix it in her own way—probably offer to talk with his grandma—, and I guessed Flynn was gonna reference Prince Charming, William, and Harry all within twenty-four hours of finding out, so there's still... twenty four hours left for that. But I really wasn't sure for you. And yet I'm still surprised. Huh."

"I don't really know how you're supposed to react when you find out your best friend is a prince, to be fair," Reggie points out. Alex and Willie both laugh. Reggie narrows his eyes. "Wait. You knew?"

Willie grins. "Oh, yeah. From day one."

"We've been best friends since kindergarten, Alexander!" Reggie gasps, dramatic and exaggerated, in a way that lets Alex know he's not really upset.

"Yeah, well," Willie leans into Alex's space and rests his chin on Alex's shoulder. "What we have is stronger."

Alex feels his heart pick up into overdrive and his face heat up, all while Reggie raises his hands in surrender. "Whoa, okay, I know where I'm not wanted."

"Who said we didn't want you?" Willie asks in a deep voice.

"Okay!" Alex yelps, shifting so Willie's chin falls off of Alex's shoulder. Willie starts giggling, and Reggie falls into laughter, and Alex just feels like he's about to combust. He stares at the table while the two of them get this out of their systems, which leads to staring at Luke's phone, which leads to thinking about the article, which leads to—"Oh, my god."

"What?" Willie and Reggie ask at the same time, both still laughing.

"The news published a story about me."

"Uh, yeah, we were just reading it," Reggie laughs a little more, but Alex notices Willie go silent next to him.

"Yeah, I know, Reg," Alex says. "But—this is supposed to be a secret, at least from the public. I admit I didn't tell you guys for reasons that don't matter anymore, but—they're not supposed to know I exist yet."

"Oh," Reggie says, slipping from laughter to serious just like that. A lot can be said about Reggie not taking life in general seriously, but a lot can also be said when it comes to him taking the lives of his friend's seriously. "That's not good."

"No, it's not."

"When was it published?" Willie asks.

Alex picks up Luke's phone and unlocks it—eleven years of being his best friend having earned Alex that privilege—and looks at the publication time. "An hour and a half ago. Why?"

"Hey, Alex?"

Alex turns in his seat to find Flynn standing behind him. "Yeah?"

"Principal Lessa wants you in her office."

"What?" he frowns. "Why?"

"Your… grandma? is coming. There's a lot of news stations outside the school waiting to talk to you," Flynn explains.

Willie sighs. "That's why."

"Fuck," Alex says. He twists in his seat to get up, but Willie's hand on his arm stops him. He looks at Willie.

"Hey. See if you can get out of lessons today. I think you deserve it. If you can, text me and I'll wait for you after school, we'll go do something that will get your mind off this shit, okay?"

Alex feels so overwhelmed with relief and love and joy—with Reggie's reaction, with Willie's care, with their friendship. He nods at Willie, and then stands up and collects his things. He leaves Flynn with Reggie and Willie and makes his way to Principal Lessa's office, which is on the other side of the building. To get there, he has to pass through the front wing, and through the front doors he can see multiple news vans parked in the normal student pick up lane. He groans to himself and carries on faster to the front office.

His grandmother and John make it to Principal Lessa's office within five minutes of him, and they quickly get down to business. They discovered that it was a leak from one of the college interns at the consulate—that she was at the Julie and the Phantoms show at Camelot and was talking about Prince Alex once she recognized him on stage. Unfortunately, one of those people she had spoken to had been a journalism student with a job at a local paper that had looked into the story, which—likely to the student's surprise—had actually checked out.

Through all of this Alex is surprised that he keeps his fragile composure, even though he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. It's just… the news breaking means eyes on him. And, well. He has to admit now that Julie was right, at least partially. He might still suck at giving speeches (but also probably not because he got an A on his speech when it was one on one with only him and Mr. Kullins) but really, the truth is he can't have people looking at him because he's scared of what they'll see. He's scared he'll let them down. He's scared they'll notice everything wrong with him. Fuck, he's scared they'll be able to know what he's thinking, just by looking at him. Half the time, he wishes he didn't have to listen to his own thoughts, so even just the thought of other people knowing what he's thinking…

So, yeah. No surprise, Julie was right. She usually is, even if Alex likes to pretend that she's not at first. She knows it too, so at least he doesn't have to admit it to her.

It's been just about an hour since they all gathered when the bell rings to signal the end of what would have been Alex's public speaking class. His grandmother looks at Alex and clasps her hands together. "Well. Shall we see if police have escorted them away and get you out of here? We can get an early start on the 1800s history."

"I was actually gonna talk to you about that," Alex murmurs. "Uh—my friend wants to know—you know with. With my anxiety this has been a lot. So he suggested maybe skipping lessons today?"

Her face softens. "Oh, why Alexander, of course. I don't know why I didn't think of that. I'll call your driver and have him take you straight home."

"Oh," Alex frowns, "well, he actually—we actually thought we might. Just hang out a bit? Get my mind off of today? So he was going to drive me."

There's a long pause. "All right," she says. "As long as you don't go out anywhere too public, at least today, not without any security. Please, Alexander, for my peace of mind?"

"Oh, no, totally," he agrees. "We're probably just going to get tea and maybe get food. Sit in his car and talk about how this sucks."

His grandmother simultaneously pulls a face and laughs, and that's how he knows that he's growing on her, improper language and all. "All right then. I hope your afternoon with your friend helps," she says sincerely. She stands and turns to Principal Lessa. "Thank you greatly for allowing us to visit your school and use your office today."

Principal Lessa shakes her head. "It is not a problem. I am just sorry this happened. Please know that we will do everything we can to ensure that he is as safe as can be."

His grandmother smiles at her and then walks out of the office, followed closely by John. Alex is left sitting alone with his principal which—awkward. She gives him the choice of going back to class or hanging out in the front office for the last period of the day. Since his last class of the day is biology—which first, he enjoys and second, means he could potentially be missing something important—he opts to go back to class, but not before sending off a quick text to Willie, promising to meet him at the end of K wing after class.

Biology goes by quick and it's clear that no one in his class has seen the news yet, because not a single eye turns to him the entire class, aside from his late entrance. He can't say the same for the rest of the school, as he can feel a few eyes on him as he makes his way through the halls after class has ended. It's not the majority, not even close, but it's enough to be noticeable, enough to make Alex's skin crawl, heat creep up his throat, and spots dance in his vision. He tries his best to ignore them, but it's hard, especially when he hears his name a few times.

K wing is a reprieve. It's the least crowded wing in the entire school, and even though it leads to the student parking lot, since people who drive themselves don't have to rush, the flow of students leaving is slow and not all at once. Alex is grateful for the lack of stares, and pulls out his phone as he waits for Willie. Swiping through his phone, the typical list of suggested articles pop up and he freezes when he sees when he's not in not only one but three of them. So, people in his biology class may not have known today, but they definitely will tomorrow, along with everyone else in all of his other classes, and everyone else that he passes in the halls. Alex felt sick dealing with the few stares he got today, how in the hell is he going to manage the entire school looking at him tomorrow?

Or, maybe he's just being really self-absorbed. Maybe they won't care. They might see it, read it, think 'oh, ha, what a nerd,' and write it off. They'll pass him and won't look at him because why would they care that he's a prince? It's not like they live in Beasiga. It's not like him being Prince of Beasiga impacts them in any way. So, yeah. Self-absorbed.

"Hey, hot dog."

Alex clicks his phone off and pushes it in his pocket, pushes his thoughts away. "Willie. Hey."

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

Alex figures that this is going to be like their Fridays, where Willie picks him up and sort of just—wings it as he goes, but as soon as he gets in the car he has a purpose. He drives them to Alex's favorite tea shop and, before Alex can even begin speaking to the cashier, asks for the order to go. When their tea is ready they start driving again, a fifteen-minute drive until they're at one of the hiking trails just outside of Los Feliz. Alex supposes it's just to give them something to do, or to keep them away from other people, he's not sure why Willie chose this, but he doesn't think Willie factored in the tea to the hike. The tea is hot in his hands while they walk so he has to keep passing it back and forth between them.

"See, with invisibility you could skate wherever you wanted within reasonable distance, but with teleportation you could skate in a lot more places legally by just popping away," Willie explains, answering Alex's question about his reasoning for his choice of super powers. "So like, it'd have to be one of those two for me, I'm just… I don't know which one."

"I feel like you'd get more added benefits beyond the skating perks with teleportation," Alex says. "Go on vacation whenever, break in places, no rush hour traf—"

"I'm sold. No rush hour? Down."

Alex watches Willie make an exaggerated motion with his hands and then kicks at the trail dirt. He smiles and turns away.

"What about you then?" Willie asks. "What's your super power?"

"I don't know," Alex admits. "Is there a super power where you just… don't get anxious?" Next to him, Willie laughs. "No, I… I'm not sure. Indestructibility might be nice. I… I, like, wanna die of old age. Not in a car crash or some freak accident."

"Nice. Fits with your brand."

"What brand?"

"Anxiety."

They keep talking—they talk most of the time, about weird encounters they've had in Downtown LA, about whether or not ghosts are real, but never about the news article—sorry, articles. And when it's silent it's nice, too. And then sometime later—he's not sure how much later because he hasn't looked at his phone once, but their teas are gone and thrown away in trailside garbage cans—they make it to a peak. They take a seat in the dirt right off the trail and in the distance he can see Downtown LA. Alex's legs are stretched out in front of him and he leans back on his hands, and Willie sits next to him, cross-legged. They're close enough that Willie's knee is pressing into Alex's thigh and Alex is trying not to think about that, because he still can't make sense of what has changed the past couple of weeks, of how it's changed and why it's changed—of the touches of the hand holding of the dates of the—this was actually my parents first date, too—of the too.

"So what'd your grandma and, uh, her people say about all of this today?" Willie asks after a few minutes, finally broaching the subject.

Alex shrugs. "They weren't happy, obviously. It was, uh. An intern from the consulate who did it. I feel bad, but it's just… I mean… it was just… everyone knew that the press wasn't meant to know, right? They had a briefing over that. And I don't know if she wasn't there for it or wasn't paying attention or if she just didn't care… But, yeah, a journalism student got her first published article in LA Times because of it, at least." Willie's eyebrows shoot up, mirroring Alex's exact initial reaction. "But, um. Grandma's really mainly concerned about my safety, you know? Lessa had to go over our school's security with her a few times for her to feel secure, and John asked to have someone from his security team in the front office for anyone who visits throughout the day so they can vet them, which Lessa agreed to, but… I don't know. It feels over the top, but… you didn't get to see it, but there were so many news vans outside the school today, man. It was wild. So maybe it's not over the top. It's—just. Man, this is just like the prince thing all over again. It feels like a joke, or like a dream, you know?"

"Yeah," Willie says, nudging Alex's shoulder with his. "How's your anxiety dealing with it?"

"Honestly? Not that great," he admits. "Julie made me realize that it's not so much public speaking I'm bad at as it is people… noticing me. And now? So many people are going to notice me and I don't know how to handle that. I've always been anxious, and then I became a prince. Which did not calm me down. Now, to add to that, the world now knows I'm a prince. What do you think that's going to do for my anxiety?"

"Huh," Willie huffs. He looks over at Alex, tongue poking in his lower lip. His eyes drift from Alex out to looking at downtown LA, and then his entire demeanor changes. "I bet I know something that will help," he says, and in one quick motion hops to his feet. Alex watches him from where he's still sat in the dirt. Willie stares down at him with a maniacal grin on his face. "Yelling. on. a mountain." And then he throws his head back and screams.

Alex drops his jaw, whipping his head around. "Willie!" he gasps, reaching over and grabbing at the other boy's leg. "Willie—shh!" Willie stops, laughing, and looks back down at Alex. Alex stares up at him. "We're okay! Everything's okay!" Alex calls out as loud as he can.

"C'mon, man!" Willie encourages. "Ah!" he screams, much shorter than his first go. He nudges Alex with his foot.

Alex huffs. "Ahhhh," he breathes, sounding more like he's sinking into a hot bath than he is dropping off the top of a roller coaster.

Willie laughs, loud and open, and reaches down to grab the front of Alex's hoodie. "No, dude. You're doing this. Come on. Stand up. Spread your feet, brace yourself, take a deep breath. Ready?" Alex does everything Willie says and then bites his lip, hard. He can already feel the scream welling up inside him, ready to burst out. So when Willie screams at him, Alex screams back, and feels a pressure release somewhere deep inside him. When he cuts off, he already wants to do it again, so he does, and for much longer this time—this time, he screams until his lungs are screaming in their own way for air, and Willie screams right along with him. Tension that Alex didn't even know he had snaps and he feels like some lock inside of him has been broken. He's breathing hard and feels himself beaming at Willie, who has grabbed on to him at some point and is still holding him in his grip. Alex, in his current state of mind, really doesn't want Willie to let him go. And yet, Willie flashes his eyebrows and takes a step back, dropping Alex's shoulders in the process.

"Feels good, right?"

Alex grins. "Yeah. It does." And then. "Oh, my god." He looks around them again and yells, "we're okay! Everyone's fine!" In a normal voice he says, "there's going to be a news article later tonight about the search for two hikers who were screaming for help, isn't there? Because that's how my life is going."

Willie tosses his head back and laughs, and falls back to the ground. Alex joins him a second later, hesitating only because he's not sure if he should sit as close as they were initially sitting or not. He settles on a middle ground—sitting close enough that Willie could brush against him, but that he wasn't pressed against him. When he's settled back into the dirt, Willie starts the conversation back up. "I am excited to see what rumors might pop up about you though," he says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Alex has a sudden thought. "What if they find out I'm gay?" Oh, god.

Willie frowns. "I thought you were only out to us?"

"I mean, technically, but there have been rumors at our school for—for how long now?" Years. There have been rumors for years. And all it took was one person like that intern talking to the wrong person and passing that rumor along and then Alex will have to—have to ask Flynn to pretend to date him or something and—no, god, no he can't do that, to himself or to her. "And like you just said, rumors are all the news need—and I don't—I don't want to have to deal with a fake girlfriend to get those rumors to go away, or, or—"

"Alex," Willie coos, gripping Alex's bicep tightly in his hand. "Alex, calm down. It'll all be okay. You won't have to. Okay?"

"But my parents," he says, realizing. Oh, god. It's not just the public he has to worry about. "My grandma—they don't, she doesn't—she doesn't know."

"That's okay," Willie says.

"She should know though. I'm just—I'm not… brave enough…" …but he can be.

He just screamed at the top of a mountain for the hell of it. It's not a very tall mountain, it's really much more of a hill, but that takes away from his point.

"Alex, what, of course you—"

"Willie?" Oh god. Whatever that lock that broke inside of him was, it was really, truly broke. And there was no going back.

"Huh?"

He closes his eyes. Okay. He's doing this. This is a thing he's going to do. He's going to be brave. He's going to do this, and then he'll be brave enough to tell his grandmother, right? If he can do this he can do anything. He's going to do it. He is. Just in—3, 2, "I like you," he blurts out, and… it's out there. He did it. Some pressure in his shoulders releases but—but that's not all he has to say. "And like, before you say something dumb like 'I like you too, dude.' I just. I mean in the way that's probably closer to the way that means 'I'm in love with you' than anything else. So like. Maybe not I like you. Maybe I love you. I don't know. I'm not sure how that's supposed to feel but I've felt it for a long time, specifically towards you, and it's never gone away, and it's only gotten stronger, so maybe that's love, but maybe I just have a really big crush on you? I don't—"

He's cut off by—

Huh.

He's cut off by Willie kissing him.

Without hesitation, he kisses back, hands automatically reaching up to hold Willie's face, his thumbs tracing over Willie's cheekbones as their lips move against each other. Willie's knee presses way too hard into Alex's thigh, probably hard enough to leave a bruise, and Alex can feel Willie jostling back and forth, can feel his hand sliding along the dirt as he shifts his hand to change his position. It's a little awkward, but it's—

It's good.

Willie pulls back far too soon, but Alex can feel the grin spreading on Willie's lips against his, before they even part. Willie doesn't lean all the way back. He pushes their foreheads together and bumps their noses together. "Maybe I just have a really big crush on you, too," he says.

"Oh."

Willie laughs, and sits back then. "Alex?"

"Huh?"

"You know that means I love you too, right?"

"Oh. No."

"Alex?"

"Huh?"

(*) 

He wakes up the next morning feeling particularly exhausted. He didn't fall asleep until sometime after two the night before which, for most people on a Friday night wouldn't be an issue but for Alex, was an issue because he has band practice at ten, so his alarm wakes him up at 8:30.

He groans when the annoyingly chipper ringtone starts playing from his nightstand and presses his head into his pillow. He stays like that for a minute before accepting his fate and reaches an arm over and grabs his phone off the table. He silences the alarm and turns over onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. Yesterday had been one of the most mentally exhausting days he could remember, and yet, it had ended on such a high note that his mind was having a hard time categorizing it.

On one hand, the one and a half panic attacks were… not ideal. They took a lot out of him. And having to wrestle with the idea of him being a prince? That was a thought that didn't leave him alone. But on the other—walking around LA drinking tea with Willie talking about nothing, singing along to the radio in his car as he drove them around, calling out scores for his tricks at the skate park, sitting on the same side of the booth at Chipotle just because they're used to it from school, but most importantly, the face Willie made when he pulled into Alex's driveway. It was so happy and so reluctant, like Willie was thinking the same thing as Alex—that the day had been so nice, but that he didn't want it to end. Alex didn't get home until nine, and when he did, he simply gave his mom a raised eyebrow and went to his bedroom and locked his door. She tried knocking and yelling through his door multiple times the rest of the night, but Alex slipped in a pair of ear buds and put on Netflix and waited until well after midnight to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth.

So, yeah, Alex isn't sure where he sits with yesterday.

He sits up in his bed and throws his legs over the side, and goes about getting ready for the day. By the time he's done it's nearly 9:15, which gives him forty-five minutes to eat breakfast and get to Julie's.

He heads to the kitchen and freezes.

Scratch that.

Which gives him forty-five minutes to avoid his mom and grandmother, eat breakfast, and get to Julie's.

He walks past them without a comment to get a frozen breakfast sandwich out of the freezer and puts it in the microwave. Ava calls out a cheery hello from the living room and he calls one back as he gets a glass of water and grabs his anxiety medication, tipping a pill into his hand. He tosses it back and chases it down with water.

"Alex," his mom tries.

The microwave beeps.

Alex goes over and opens it, careful of the hot sandwich within the paper towel. He picks it up gingerly and unwraps it, but leaves it set to cool for a minute, grabbing a handful of almonds while he waits.

"Alexander," his grandmother commands.

Alex crunches a mouthful of almonds pointedly.

"Alex, they're calling you," Ava says from the living room.

"Oh, are they?" he hums, disinterested. "I didn't hear anything."

"Alex, please," his mom goes again. "Just give us a chance, okay?"

Alex looks at her and raises an eyebrow. He looks at the clock. It's twenty after nine. "I have to leave in twenty minutes. That's what you get."

His mom breathes out a sigh of relief. She jumps straight in. "I know you must be wondering why we didn't tell you. When your dad and I divorced, we thought we would both remarry, both have more children. You know how that turned out for him though. But… our number one priority was you growing up with a normal childhood. All I knew was I couldn't… I couldn't handle the primness and rules and I didn't want my child to have to grow up in that world and have to miss out on so many parts of childhood and Fred agreed with me. So we all agreed that distance was the best thing for all of us, especially when Mike came into the picture."

"Were you ever going to tell me, if he hadn't died?" Alex demands.

"We were going to tell you when you turned eighteen," his mom nods. "We even tried to wait, still, but… circumstances moved that up."

Alex frowns and turns to his grandmother. "And you? You were okay with this all?"

She flips her hands over so her palms are facing the ceiling but the way she holds her hands is still elegant rather than how most people would appear helpless. "It's not like I could disagree, now could I? I would be going against your parents' wishes, against my son's wishes. Of course I wish I could have known you, but I do understand their intentions, to an extent."

Right. He supposes she would be the most innocent party out of all of them. At least, that is, if she weren't expecting him to drop his entire life to go rule an entire country. He turns back to his mom and watches her. She crosses her arms over her chest and ducks her chin to her chest. "I'm sorry that our decision hurt you," she says slowly. "That was never our intention. We wanted to protect you."

"Right," Alex nods. He picks up his sandwich, which has cooled down considerably now. "Okay. Was that all, or?"

"Not quite," his grandmother says, holding up a finger. "I have something I would like to discuss with you."

He takes a bite of his breakfast. "Shoot."

She grimaces. "December 21st… there's an annual ball. I had the hope to present you as Prince Alexander at this ball."

From the living room, Ava gasps.

Alex swallows his bite of his sandwich and flicks his eyes towards where his sister is. She's holding onto her tablet, but it's completely forgotten in her hands as she stares into the kitchen with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. He turns back to his grandmother and shakes his head. "I told you yesterday, I wouldn't make a good prince. Again, I'm barely a functioning human."

Footsteps come running into the kitchen. "Prince?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex huffs, ruffling Ava's hair. She's twelve now—right at the age where she's starting to care about him messing up her hair. She squeaks and ducks away from him and fixes her hair and looks at his grandmother.

"Did you say Alex is a Prince?" Ava asks.

"He is, my dear," his grandmother smiles and Ava shrieks. Alex's hands fly to his ears, nearly dropping his breakfast in the process and his mom is quick to yell at Ava, silencing her effectively.

"Does that mean I'm a princess?"

"I'm afraid not," his grandmother says apologetically. "Alexander is a prince on his father's side, and you two share different fathers."

"Oh—that's okay!" Ava turns to Alex. "You're a prince!"

"Not for long," Alex says, reaching over to tussle her hair again.

"That is… what I wanted to talk to you about," his grandmother says softly. "I already mentioned lessons once, but if we work with you until the ball… with some instruction, I really think you would surprise yourself as well, Alexander."

Alex shakes his head, laughing. "Prince lessons?" Next to him, Ava squeals again, but this time it's much softer. He looks down at her to find her beaming up at him, looking like she's a second away from clapping her hands together, too. Alex rolls his eyes.

His mom steps forward. "Yes, prince lessons." She looks between him and his grandmother and narrows her eyes. "Alex, why don't you give them a shot, okay? You're not committing to anything, you're not saying you'll be king of Beasiga one day by going to these lessons, they're just what they are at face value: lessons."

Alex narrows his eyes back at her. He knows his mom. He's gotten pretty good at reading into her unspoken words over the last sixteen years. He goes over her words again in his head and tries to find the hidden message—he's pretty sure it's a silent 'yet' added to 'you're not committing to anything'—but he can't be sure. "Okay… And?"

"And you keep your mind open." Yup. Yet. Alex holds back his scoff, because that'd be an immediate give away. "That's all. Lessons, and keep your mind open."

"Okay," Alex says, and takes another bite of his sandwich. It's cold now. He frowns, and looks at Ava who is next to him, now hopping up and down.

"Shall we start tomorrow?" his grandmother asks.

Alex scoffs. "No. Tomorrow's Halloween, I have a gig. We can start Monday. I have band practice Wednesdays and Saturdays though, so make sure you don't schedule anything on those days. I'll let you know if we book any other gigs."

His grandmother looks at his mom, confused expression on her face. "Gigs?"

"Uh… events. Shows. Where they play."

"Ah," she nods, looking back to Alex. "What sort of band do you play in? You mentioned the band yesterday but not your music."

Alex raises his eyebrows, surprised at her interest. Then he thinks—it could be because it could be considered a royal scandal. Oh, isn't that a thought. His life could be considered a royal scandal now. "Uh—we started out more as rock, but lately we've been more pop-rock inclined," he says. Then, because he can, he says, "We're actually playing a nightclub in a few weeks if you'd want to see us play. There's a VIP box that I doubt anyone has rented out for our show since we're still up and comers."

He's not expecting her to perk up. "Oh, I would love that. You'll have to give me the information and I'll see what I can have John do."

"O… kay." He glances at the clock as he takes another bite of his cold sandwich. Somehow, even though it feels like it's been an eternity, only six minutes have passed. He moves over to the kitchen table and takes a seat, finishing off his sandwich in a few bites, and just barely keeps himself from groaning when his grandmother takes a seat across the table from him. He picks up his phone and starts scrolling through it, when she asks him a question about his Rothfuss book sitting over on the coffee table. He looks over at her and frowns. "How'd you know it was mine?"

She smiles, gentle and kind, and not at all like a women who is out to ruin his life. "You mentioned yesterday that you were an avid reader, and that fantasy was one of your favorite genres. I assumed from there."

Alex nods. "Have you read it? I mean… to know that it was fantasy…"

"I have," she nods. "I make sure to spend at least an hour a day with leisure reading, though I must admit when I'm not very busy it usually ends up being more than that. How do you feel about Kvothe?"

Alex's first reaction is surprise due to hearing his grandmother say 'Kvothe' because she pronounces it completely differently than he has been reading it in his head. His second reaction is also surprise, due to her asking his opinion on a book he's reading. But then he supposes this… this is really where it had seemed their relationship had been heading. There was such an ease when they were getting to know each other yesterday, and she never made him feel like anything he said didn't matter. Yesterday she wanted to hear about his life, down to the smallest detail, and today, she wanted to hear about his opinion about an asshole Kingkiller. It was hard to reconcile that version of his grandmother with the version that told him he was a prince—that implied he'd be moving to Beasiga and ruling without giving him any say.

Sitting here talking about a book he was reading though, after just having agreed to prince lessons, the two were starting to merge. They were still different, but more overlapped now, rather than two completely separate entities. She was his grandmother, yes, and she had interest in his life. Yet she was also Queen Louisa of Beasiga, and had a duty to her country. Alex supposes he can't be too upset at her for wanting him to be prince—after all, if he declines, that means their family's reign is over. Of course, of course she'd want him to be prince. He can excuse her for being a little bit pushy at first. He relaxes into the chair, and the two images of his grandmother merge together even more.

And then he looks at the clock. He's in the middle of a sentence when he does, not having expected so much time to have passed, but when he sees that it's quarter 'til ten, he stands up so quickly that his chair falls backwards. "Shit!" he curses, bending down to pick it back up and then running to the door. "Sorry, grandma, gonna be late for band practice, gotta go! We'll finish this later!"

Alex skids his bike into Julie's driveway with a minute to spare and rushes into the studio. Reggie, Luke, and Julie call out happy hellos when Alex enters, and he echoes one back. Julie's watching him from her seat at the piano and he sends her a quick nod, telling her he's okay after their phone call yesterday. She had texted him in the evening, but he had been out with Willie, so he had told her he'd text her later and then… never did.

"Hey, uh, before we start," Alex says as he sits on his stool, "just so you guys know, my grandma is in town for the new few months, so I'll be spending some time with her. I told her no Wednesdays or Saturdays, and I told her no days we have gigs, but just a heads up, I'll be around a little less."

"Wait," Reggie frowns. "Your grandma? Didn't both your grandmas pass away?"

"Uh—my maternal grandma and then my stepdad's mom did."

"So…" Luke drawls. "Your dad's mom is in town?"

Alex swallows, then nods. "Uh, yeah. You know, I think I told you guys he passed away in July, right?" With three nods, he carries on. "Right, so, I'm the only family she has left now. So, I mean. It makes sense, right? She just… wants to get to know me, I guess."

"Aw," Reggie coos, "that's sweet. Have you met her yet? Is she nice?"

"No, yeah, she's great. Uh, she, uh, loves reading, just like me. She, uh, she's been great."

"That's awesome, man," Luke says, sounding genuinely pleased. Ever since he made up with his parents over the summer after his six month estrangement with them, Luke has put the value of family above just about everything else. (Just about. Luke's parents had to compromise that music was in their son's life and that it was there to stay.)

Julie, however, is quiet. She is staring at him with pursed lips, and he is sure she had plenty of questions—and he is sure she has connected his near panic attack yesterday evening to his grandma. He looks at her and pulls his eyebrows together, letting his head tilt slightly. Pleading and promise. Please don't let them know and I promise I'll fill you in. He sees the moment Julie gives in as her shoulders relax and she gives him a fake, but still warm, smile. "That's great, Alex. Will we get to meet her?"

Oh, shit.

"Uh," Alex squeaks, "maybe? She, uh, she—she might. You. You might. I'm really not sure? We'll have to see."

It's a testament to how long his friends have been around Alex and his anxiety that they don't think his rambling and stammering are odd or out of place here. Except Julie. She knows, but not because of his rambling and stammering. Sure, the guys know about his panic attack because Julie had texted the group, but Julie is too smart not to use that information now, while the guys had let it go once they knew Alex was safe. So Alex, seeing that Julie is still focused on him, gives her a shrug and suggests they get started on practice, which Luke and Reggie eagerly agree to, and Julie nods along to as well.

They practice, write, practice, eat, practice, write, practice, goof off, practice, eat more, and then practice more. By 4:15, they all lay on the floor of the studio going over the set list for tomorrow for what feels like the hundredth time, but they're nothing if not thorough with their sets. They're debuting Finally Free tomorrow, which they played through fully for the first time today, so they're all nervous about that, but excited, too. There's a current running through the entire group, like static electricity—he feels like if he were to touch one of them he'd be shocked. He always feels like this before a gig, there's just so much pent up energy within their group, only for it to explode on stage at their gig. He thinks it is part of what makes them so good. Through all of this, he can almost forget about… everything else. He does, even.

Reggie's mom comes to pick him up about ten minutes later, and Luke runs inside to play Carlos in MarioKart five minutes later, leaving only Alex and Julie. Alex rolls on to his stomach and pushes his torso off the floor, pulling his legs beneath him and hopping up, ready to bid Julie goodbye when she stops him. The look on her face is what brings everything rushing back. He sighs.

"What happened yesterday?" she asks in a quiet voice, standing in front of him, arms hanging loosely at her sides. She's completely open to him, and he feels his stomach twist knowing that he's about to lie to, or at least not be completely honest with, her.

Alex brings a hand up and runs it through his hair, sending his eyes to the chairs on the ceiling before looking back to Julie. "It—it really wasn't as bad as I made it out to be, I promise. I just… I got some news, that I can't share, that shocked me. Me, my mom, and my grandma talked about it before practice this morning, so… it's fine."

"All right… Are you okay, though?"

Alex doesn't answer immediately, because he learned a long time ago that if he didn't give Julie an honest, thought out answer to these kinds of questions then she would end up pressing. Gently pressing, but pressing, nonetheless. So he thinks—really thinks—about how he is. He thinks about how he felt getting the news, and how his heart lost its rhythm in his chest for so long, until Willie was able to set it right again. Until Willie was able to take all the panic and anxiety and hurt that Alex was feeling and flip it, take it and turn it into release and laughter and a sense of okayness. Then he thinks of this morning, where he made a deal, one that he can keep until he can confidently step back from his role as prince without a fight from his grandmother and then move forward with his life as if this entire thing never happened. And he thinks of being surrounded by Luke, Reggie, and Julie, and how everything else had just melted away, how it had been like yesterday hadn't even happened, how it had been like he wasn't even a prince, not even now.

And he, well.

(*) 

Alex is not going to be Prince.

He’s not sure why he said he was going to be in the first place because clearly it’s an absolutely ludicrous idea. Alex is barely a functioning human, he can’t be a prince!

He’s pacing his room, keeping his eyes averted from the charcoal grey suit that’s laid out on his bed. He’d just taken it out of its garment bag and it has been taunting him, as if saying this is your future, you don’t belong. And he doesn’t belong, does he? The suit is like nothing he’s ever worn, not even for the dinner a few weeks ago, and if he chooses to become prince this suit would just be the first of many, and—it’s too good for him. He’s not good enough for it. He’s not good enough to be Prince.

He looks at the clock. His driver is supposed to be here to get him in six minutes, but Alex hasn’t even started to get dressed. His family has already left for the Ball, and he’s got no idea what to do.

He might not be having these thoughts if it weren’t for his surprise visitor a few minutes ago, but then again, he might have ended up here no matter what. But, really, how else was he supposed to react after Caleb Covington shows up at his door and completely runs his spirit into the ground? His decision was already standing on pretty shaky legs this morning once he’d woken up, the high from last night gone. By the time he’d taken his anxiety medications, eaten breakfast, showered, and helped his family get ready he was already starting to doubt himself. He was planning a back up speech in his mind. And then—

“Alexander,” Caleb said from the front of his porch, leaning against one of the beams. Alex’s family had just left minutes before, so he was left to face Caleb alone. “How nice to see you.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “it must be, considering you drove out of your way to come find me. What are you doing here?”

“Such insolence. I’m just here to congratulate you on your big night. Not everyone gets to speak at the Beasigan consulate. You’ll be up there addressing hundreds of people from all around the world; quite the feat for a sixteen year old with almost no formal training.” There was a glint in Caleb’s eye, as if he had known about Alex’s anxiety, knew that Alex’s stomach was flipping as soon as ‘hundreds of people’ left Caleb’s lips. “I just wanted to stop by and ask—“

Alex shook his head. “No,” he said, willing his stomach to settle. “No—okay, I know what you’ve been doing. Chasing down Willie, stalking him to get a read on me. It’s not going to work. You can’t make me do anything.” Caleb stares him down. Alex feels himself bending, as if he’d just disrespected a superior, but he doesn’t crack, doesn’t break.

“Stalking? Please. I just wanted to get to know William,” Caleb said. “He seemed to love skating the streets of Hollywood so much it wasn’t hard to find him. I just thought, as Speaker of the House of Crane, I should be working to get to know our possible future Prince Consort. After all, he’d be around the palace a lot. What with his… duties. Counseling you and charities. He seems the just the type for that, your William.”

Alex didn’t think too much on that in the moment, just crossed his arms and sighed. “My driver is going to be here in thirty minutes. I’ve got to finish getting ready.”

“I won’t keep you. But. The Beasigan people are strong and united,” Caleb hummed, looking down at his nails, studying them as if he’d been looking for any flaws that he might have to file or buff out before the ball that night. “They can be a bit… skeptical… of outsiders. So don’t let that get to you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Really? As I recall, you’re the one who wanted to prevent outsiders from having a place in our country, not the people. And you were stopped. I’ve been nothing but welcomed by everyone I’ve met.”

“And you’ve met how many people?” he asked with a flat voice. “Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Do they speak for our sixty thousand? They’re diplomats, they’re programmed to be polite, being diplomatic is quite literally in their name.” He shoved off the column and walked towards Alex. “But! I’m not here to try to intimidate you, no. I’m here to wish you all the best! Whatever you decide. Truly, Alexander. I just implore you to think.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing since my grandmother showed up in my life?” Alex shot back.

Caleb huffed a laugh. “That’s right.” He turns to leave, and then pauses. “Funny thing about ruling a country—no one really knows what it’s like until they’ve been in that position. Even I don’t know what it’s like. I have experience in Parliament—and you have experience in… Well.” He tilted his head to the side and offered Alex a smile. “But you know what it’s like living a normal life. Your band, your friends, your boyfriend, all without the stress of…” He put his fingers together. “But I suppose you’re right. You have been thinking about it since Queen Louisa entered your life. And I’m sure you’ve considered all the angles, all the benefits and especially the repercussions. You must have had plenty of time to do that, I imagine. After all, you’ve had a month and a half—why, that’s practically a lifetime to consider this. It’s not like you’ve only been given a week or two to make this decision.”

Alex tightened his arms around his chest. “Mr. Covington—“

“Caleb, please.”

“Caleb, I really must be getting ready. I will see you at the ball, all right?”

Caleb nodded. “Of course. You must excuse me, sometimes I forget myself.”

“It’s no worry,” Alex said, even though he could have been rude because no one but himself and Caleb were around. Manners were so deeply ingrained in him by that point that it just… happened.

“Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

Willie, wonderful Willie, calls within two minutes.

“Hello?” Alex answers.

“What happened?” Willie asks.

Alex sucks in a breath that gets caught in his throat. It turns into a sob. “Why did I think I could do this? I’m not—I’m not cut out for this. I wasn’t born to be a prince. I don’t know why I said I would be in the first place, that—that’s so stupid, Willie, do you realize how stupid that is?”

“No,” Willie says, and then, away from the speaker, thanks someone. Alex hears a car door slam and an engine start. “No, I don’t Alex, because I think it’s a great idea.”

“Where’s the great idea?”

Willie hums. “Hidden behind a wall of anxiety.”

“Oh, cute,” Alex scoffs. “Anxiety saves lives, you know. There are times when your body is telling you something is wrong because it is.”

“Anxiety also keeps lives from being lived. Your body isn’t telling you this is wrong, your body is telling you this is dangerous. And you believe it. You didn’t believe it last night when you weren’t anxious, Alex, and that tells me that you want to do this.”

“I want to do this?” Alex scoffs. “Willie, you don’t even know what you want to do with your life and you’ve got it so much more figured out than I do. And here I am deciding to sign my life away at sixteen to a country that I’ve never been to. A country that could choose to reject me at first sight. A country that I knew nothing about a month and a half ago.”

“A country that you love,” Willie reminds him.

“How can I love it when I’ve only known it for a month?”

“Because you’ve met its queen, and you love her heart and her hopes for the future. Because you’ve met its Prime Minister and you love his ideas and his plans for the future. Because you’ve seen its people and you love them—for all that they stand for and all that they are, and because they are good people and they deserve a good leader, and that’s what you will be.”

Alex doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. He does love Beasiga, but it feels impossible that he does even with all the reasons that Willie just explained. He’s never even been there. Los Angeles is all Alex has known and Beasiga is 1.5% of Los Angeles’ population and Los Angeles is nearly three and half times the size of Beasiga. And Alex likes Los Angeles because it’s easy to disappear and everyone is so busy they don’t have time to notice you. Alex has only experienced Beasiga through stories and media, but he knows it’s not like Los Angeles over there. People say hi when they pass you on the street, they help you if you’re struggling to carry something too heavy, and they don’t let you fade into the background. He—he likes that, but it also terrifies him.

The silence stretches on over the phone, occasionally interrupted by Willie’s turn signal or the honking of another car, but after a few minutes, Willie breaks it. “You’re wrong, you know. I do know what I want to do with my life.”

… That’s a new development. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Be Prince Consort to Beasiga’s King,” he says without missing a beat. Alex’s heart skips a beat. “Spend my days helping you help make Beasiga, and the world, a better place. Continue to help move Beasiga forward.”

“Willie…” Alex sighs. He’s torn on being ecstatic and worried at hearing that. “You’re just being—“

“Don’t say I’m just being impulsive,” Willie cuts him off, “because I have been thinking about this since the night you first told me you were a prince. I’ve known I loved you for a long time, Alex, and I’ve been thinking about what this would mean for me since the beginning. I’ve done my research, I’ve thought it through, I’ve sat on it. I’m not just jumping at it first chance.”

Caleb’s words come back to him. He seems just the type for that, your William. No. No he doesn’t. Willie is an active mind, an active body, an active soul. He’s not meant to sit still next to Alex. “Don’t you think you deserve more than that? That if you choose that, you’ll wake up one day and regret it?”

“No,” Willie says, voice confident. “I was never going to make a career out of skateboarding or dance, and it’s not like I can’t still do those in Beasiga. If I’m doing a psych degree in college I’ll maybe look at being a therapist? And who knows, maybe part of helping move Beasiga forward is allowing me to have my own career path separate from my consort duties.”

“What if that doesn’t work? If you’re stuck being a consort without your own career?”

“Being a therapist is just an idea right now,” Willie reminds him. Alex can hear the casual tone of his voice, and it tells Alex that it really is just an idea, that it isn’t something Willie has his heart set on. Still, Alex wants that for him. “I have no idea if I actually want to pursue it or not. But if I do and it ends up not working out, then I’ll still have skateboarding. I’ll still have dance. I’ll still have the ability to make an impact in the world, make differences in peoples days and lives, work with charities, leave my mark. It’s not like I’ll be sitting bored every day. Consorts may have less to do but they don’t have nothing to do. And I can make up my own things to do. Move Beasiga forward. And… I’ll still have you.”

“… And you’re willing to do that for me?”

“I mean, it’s not just for you, it’d be for me, and even in part for Beasiga too, but… yeah.” It’s so simple for Willie to admit that. To say that he’d move to another country, adapt to a different culture, and learn the ins and outs of the country so he could properly advise Alex on how to properly rule that country. Willie’s always made comments—‘I told you, I’d do anything for you’—but Alex had never realized how literal he was being. But, well. If Alex is being honest, he’ll do almost anything for Willie, too. He knows there are things that both he and Willie would draw the line at, but neither he nor Willie would ever dream of asking the other of those things. Like Willie asking Alex to quit the band or Alex asking Willie to give up skateboarding. But Willie moving to Beasiga and serving as Prince Consort along side Alex? Is apparently something Willie will readily do. “If it’ll make you feel better, after you accept your place as Prince we can start talking to Louisa about changing the consort’s duties, so when the time comes, if I want to pursue a career, I’ll have that choice.”

“That… would actually make me feel better,” Alex admits.

“Then tomorrow, after your speech today accepting your place as Prince, we’ll discuss it with Louisa and see what she thinks. Good?”

“Good,” Alex says. Then—“hey. Wait. I still don’t—I still can’t—who said I was going to accept being prince?”

“All right, hit me,” Willie says, and then Alex does—words spilling out of him so quickly that he loses track of what he’s saying. Willie doesn’t though. He listens to Alex patiently and talks him through all of his fears, all of his anxieties. He reminds him of the reasons that, just yesterday, he decided he wanted to be Beasiga’s Prince. Willie listens as Alex questions those exact reasons, and then answers them himself without any input from Willie until it’s entirely a one-sided conversation and Willie is just along for the ride. When Alex comes to the conclusion he still wants to be Prince, Willie asks him how he feels about that, and listens to Alex stammer through half-finished sentences that don’t make sense. And when Alex calms down again, Willie is there to ask Alex if he’s okay, ask him how he can help, ask him if there’s anything he needs.

“No,” Alex shakes his head. “No, I… I’m okay. I think I really, actually am.”

“Okay,” Willie says, accepting his word easily. “All right, I’m turning on your street, come let me inside.”

“You—you’re here?”

“Where else did you think I was going?” Willie demands sounding slightly offended. “Of course I am. I’m gonna get rid of your driver and then we’ll drive to the Ball together, all right? Come unlock the door and start getting ready. I’ll be in in a minute. Where’s your room?”

“Take the stairs, go down the hall and it’s the one on the right.”

“All right. See you in a few.”

Alex does as he’s told and by the time he’s in his dress pants and slipping his button up over his arms, Willie steps into his room. Alex watches as Willie turns and shuts the door even though they’re home alone, and then walks over to him. He takes his place in front of Alex who is straightening his shirt on his shoulders and starting to button it up. They stare at each other, silent. Willie nods, murmurs, “you’re okay.”

Alex buttons up the last button of his shirt and tucks it into his pants. “Yeah,” he says. He reaches to his bed for his vest and slides it over his shoulders. He starts to button it up but Willie’s hands knock his away and take over. Alex watches him with careful eyes. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out,” he says. He does up one, two, three buttons then smooths his hand down from Alex’s chest to his stomach. “I’m just… I’m kind of pissed at myself that I didn’t think of this. I should have expected this. I know you. It took you so long to decide; you didn’t have enough time to be sure of your decision. I should have known you were going to doubt yourself. You just… you were so sure of yourself last night. I didn’t think—”

“Hey,” Alex frowns, dipping his head down to look in Willie’s eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him about Caleb, not right now, not before the ball. He’ll tell him tomorrow, but right now, he needs Willie, and Willie would be livid if he learned about Caleb. “It’s not like this is on you. Even if you had thought if it, there isn’t anything you could have done—“

“I could have been here,” Willie argues, gripping the suit vest and pulling Alex closer. “I wouldn’t have had to talk you through it from my car. You wouldn’t have had to be alone.”

Alex sighs and reaches a hand up to Willie’s jaw so he can bring Willie’s face up to his. He presses their lips together and feels Willie melt against his front. Alex pulls away and lets Willie fall into him. “You were there when I needed you and that’s all that I needed. I mean, you’re going off to college next year anyway; I’m going to need to learn to survive without you at some point. I can’t depend on you for everything, and I really can’t depend on you to predict when something is going to go wrong and wait for you to fix it for me.”

“But if I can—“

“Willie,” Alex says, and then kisses him again. “You’re the reason I’m in this suit right now ready to go tell a whole ass group of people that I’ve decided I’m going to rule a whole other ass group of people in a few years. You’ve done absolutely everything you can.” Then he pulls away from Willie’s hold, eyes widening. “Shit. Shit. My speech.” He looks at the clock on his bedside table. 5:13 “I’m supposed to be giving a speech in seventeen minutes, fuck!”

“I texted Julie when I got here. She’s finding someone so she can tell Louisa what’s going on,” Willie tells him in a calm voice. “She might have already, okay? Get your jacket and tie on, get your shoes on, and I’ll go call her for an update.”

“Okay,” Alex breathes, and does exactly as Willie says.

When he emerges from his room three minutes later, Willie is standing by his front door with his hands in his pockets. He looks up, takes a hand from his pocket, and holds up a thumb and pinky at Alex telling him right away to relax. “We’re good, dude. Speech is at 6:30 now. It’s still a drive though, and we’ve gotta take Melrose to avoid 10 so we don’t hit rush hour on the highway, but it’s still gonna be shitty so we’ve gotta go now.”

What should be a twenty-minute drive ends up taking nearly an hour, so they spend the time devising a plan to talk to his grandmother about Willie’s hypothetical consort duties the next day. Willie starts telling Alex that they can wait, but Alex tells him no. If Willie is committing to Alex to this degree, then Alex wants to make sure that there won’t be any doors shut in Willie’s future. If Willie wants to be a therapist, he’s going to be a fucking therapist. Alex is sure his grandma will help them make it happen. She’s asked Willie what his plans for college are; yet she’s also made implications that he would be the one standing by Alex’s side if Alex were to be King. Why would she do that if she thought Willie would just be a piece at Alex’s side?

When they get to the consulate, Willie pulls them around back and down a driveway that Alex has never taken note of before. When Willie notices his confusion he says, “the press and guests are all… mingling in the halls.”

Alex snorts. “Did you just say mingling?”

“Yeah,” Willie grins. “It’s what Alden said on the phone. Now it’s all I can think of.”

They enter through the caterer’s entrance into a hall that Alex has never been down and Alden is there waiting for them. He greets them both and then leads the way through the hall, down another, and then another, until Alex can see his grandmother, John, and a few other people waiting at the end of the hall they turn into. He feels relief wash through him and, when his grandmother turns to look at him, he can see that same relief run through her as well.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes out when they reach them. She steps forward and collects Alex into a hug, and then Willie, too. “Thank you, Willie, for sending Julie to inform me of what was going on.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “I’m just glad it all worked out.”

“What on earth happened?” she demands, looking to Alex.

“Uh, minor crisis. Just… clearing my head, you know.” Next to him, Willie snorts.

“Clearing your head?” she asks.

“Uh… yes?”

She rolls her eyes and tosses her hands up in exasperation. “Well I hope your head clearing worked, because we go on in five minutes. Did you make a decision?”

His eyes flick to Willie. “Yeah. I did.”

“… do I get to know this decision?”

“You know? I waited sixteen years to find out I was a prince. You can wait five more minutes to find out whether I’m staying a prince.”

“Harsh,” Willie murmurs, but reaches forward to hook his pinky with Alex’s.

His grandmother looks down at their hands. She looks back up at Alex and shakes her head with a frown, but the effect is ruined a moment later when she breaks into laughter. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that one.”

They fall into casual conversation after that, his grandmother talking about Tasha and how she’d been asking about Willie today and admitted that he had beautiful hair that she wanted to mess around with. Alex laughs at that and Willie does too, but he notices his boyfriend’s face is several shades darker that it had been moments ago. John talks about how they had to remove two reporters for getting in a physical altercation, and seems gleeful while discussing it. Alden is all too interested in listening to the story, and is crestfallen when, in the middle of it, someone comes to retrieve them for the speech. They’re led down the hallway and as they go, the murmurings of voices grow. Alex can feel himself grow more and more tense realizing that he’s going to be under their gazes soon. Willie uses his pinky to drag Alex’s hand up, and then twists their hands in midair until their fingers are twined together.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers.

His voice catches the attention of Alex’s grandmother who turns around and sees the look on Alex’s face. She relaxes her shoulders and reaches out, tapping her hands gently to his cheeks. “My dear, you will do wonderfully. I will be right up there with you, all right?” He nods. “Good. Now, I must go introduce you. You have a few minutes to prepare.” She turns to Willie. “Remind him how spectacular he is, will you?”

“On it.”

And then she’s gone.

“Hey,” Willie says, and Alex looks at him with wide eyes. “Hey. You with me?” He nods. “Good. Okay, so—you’re anxious right now because you’re about to give a speech and you think they’re going to be judging you for your speech, right? But those people out there are just out there to hear you step into your role as Prince. Alex, this is a good thing. Those people out there will be excited. They’re here to listen to you speak, not to judge you.”

“What if my speech sucks so bad they can’t help but judge me?” Alex asks.

“It won’t.”

“But what if.”

“Then fuck it—you had a bad speech. Everyone has bad performances. You’ve messed beats up during performances with the band and you don’t let those get to you, you brush them off and are ready to play the next gig. You remember when I was in tenth grade and kicked my shoe off into the audience during a performance and then kept slipping on the stage on my sock? It happened, it couldn’t be helped, we moved on. I moved on. If—and that’s a big if—you suck today, you’ll move on too, I promise, okay? I promise. And I’ll help you move on.” Willie leans up on his toes and kisses Alex. “You can do this, Alex. You know you can do this.”

Alex looks down at Willie and sees sincere, brown eyes staring up at him. He drags Willie in for a hug and just… just holds him. Willie returns the hug and pushes his face into Alex’s shoulder and they simply exist together surrounded by each other in a little bubble. He uses Willie’s breathing, working to match his own to it so he doesn’t start to get worked up again. Willie’s fingers are curled into his upper back and the pressure is just enough to ground him, just enough to keep him here and not somewhere far away in his mind where it really is just the two of them.

The bubble is popped a few minutes later when Alden returns to escort Alex to the makeshift stage. He’s reluctant as he pulls away from Willie, and Willie and Alden both know it, but the important thing is that he manages it. He nods at Alden and they start towards the stage, Willie at his side, right up until they reach the entrance to the hall. “I love you,” he whispers, and then stops in his tracks, leaving Alex to twirl around in surprise. He laughs, shooing Alex towards the stage. “Go.” Alex turns, casts a look back at Willie, and then walks forward.

As Alex steps out from the back hall and feels the weight of a room full of eyes fall on him, a fire roars to life in his gut, flaring up through his throat and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Spots dance in his vision during his walk to his grandmother, but he takes a moment to think about his breathing, takes a moment to draw in a deep, full breath, filling his lungs with air, and the spots recede little by little. When he reaches his grandmother, they’re all but gone. She smiles at him and extends an arm out, sweeping her hand out to motion to the crowd, and Alex looks out. The fire burns hotter and he looks back to his grandmother. “You have the floor,” she says, and then retreats back several feet away. He wants to reach out, bring her back, cling on to her for support, but he can’t. He steps up behind the podium and looks back to the hallway he’d just come from and meets Willie’s eyes. Willie smiles at him and gives him and encouraging nod. Alex turns back to the crowd, where every eye is focused on him. He thinks: everyone is looking at him because he’s here to speak, not to judge him. He swallows, glances back at Willie once more, and quells the flame to the best of his ability.

“Hi, uh, I’m Alex. You… probably… all know that since my grandma just introduced me. Sorry. I—uh, kinda wish I had my drums, heh,” Alex laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m, uh, no good with being in the spotlight, or, uh, attention in general, um, not unless I’m behind my drums. Or… uh… it’s really more me being with my band…” He looks out at the crowd and is pleasantly surprised when he finds Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s eyes right in the front, and Flynn standing next to them. They’re all wearing radiant smiles and directing them towards Alex, and the flame recedes further down his throat on its own, and he feels himself relax back into his shoes. “Which, thankfully for me, they’re the best band ever and they’re here with me today, so, uh, no fainting or vomiting for me today. Oh—I didn’t need to add that, did I? O… kay. Uh. Anyways. Uh, I’m sure most of you know me, or at least of me, if you’re here. I’m Queen Louisa’s grandson, and Prince Frederick’s son. If you didn’t know this, yeah, neither did I a month and a half ago. Heh. I was shocked too. But, yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. Hopefully you will too.

“Uh, so. Beasiga is celebrating its three hundred and sixth formation day today. For one of the first times, the reigning monarch is not in the country to celebrate with the citizens. Instead, she is here, in the Beasiga consulate in Los Angeles, California, United States of America, with all of us. And she is here because of me.” He looks over to where his grandmother is standing off to the side, her hands folded over her midriff and her shoulders set tall and proud. The fire subsides further. She smiles at him, a motion for him to continue. “Um, my grandmother came at the end of October to meet me and begin teaching me the ins and outs of Beasiga and what it meant to be a prince and what it would later mean to be a king. She dedicated her time here to me not for me, but for Beasiga. Uh, and she did it in hopes that I would become the person she envisioned me to be, in hopes that I would step up, accept my claim to the throne, and rule Beasiga justly and fairly, exactly as she has been teaching me to do.

“What she didn’t expect to come across when she got here was a sixteen year old kid with anxiety who immediately ran away from the idea of being a prince. And I do mean that literally. I, uh. I ran out of the consulate after she told me I would be Prince and had to have my friend come pick me up.” The crowd laughs, some with humor, some unsure, and Alex smiles. Alex turns to look back at the hallway where Willie is still tucked away. He smiles at him and Willie smiles back. It’s only embers left in his gut, now. “Hm. Anyway. Yeah, so, uh, she didn’t expect that, but it’s what she got, and she helped turn that kid with anxiety into the kid who… still very much has anxiety, but can stand up here speaking with all of you. Yes, it’s still terrifying, but it’s not debilitating anymore. And she also gave me a choice. To use everything she gave me to rule Beasiga, or to use it in some other facet of life.” He draws in a deep breath. “I chose to use it elsewhere. I was never cut out to be a prince. I never in a million years dreamed that I could.

“But—could. Could is a word that is used to indicate possibility. Thanks for the vocab help, Google. So… Would it even be possible for me to rule Beasiga? I don’t know. I didn’t know. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t know if it was possible, or if I was able. Able. Be able to. The question became can I? I doubted myself, and I started asking myself that question a lot more often. And then I started asking other people. Their answers varied. Most were encouraging which wasn’t helpful because it’s not like someone’s going to tell you that you’re going to suck at ruling a country, right? Yeah, no. I surround myself with kind people, but sometimes, kind people don’t tell you what you need to hear. But then—there’s one person. I asked him, I went, ‘do you think I can?’ And he said, ‘man, I don’t know. I just care about whether or not you’re willing.’” Alex says, pausing for a long moment. “So, it became a matter of whether I was willing, which was a much, much easier question to answer. Because, well, yeah. I am willing.

“I’m willing to study Beasigan history, politics, government, culture, and anything and everything else there is to know about Beasiga to know the country as best I can. I’m willing to grow myself as a person and conquer fears that once held me hostage to know myself as best I can. I’m willing to put aside my fears and confront uncertainty to find a place for myself in this world. But I’m also willing to dedicate myself to Beasiga through the good times and the bad. I’m also willing to work at finding ways of moving Beasiga forward, at leading Beasiga into even better times than it is already in, which of course will be a challenge, as my grandmother is quite the Queen. And most importantly, I’m also willing to choose the people of Beasiga over myself.

“I prematurely chose to use the skills my grandma gave me in a different walk of life. But today and every day moving forward I will choose to use them for the country and people of Beasiga.” There’s a whoop out in the crowd that Alex can identify as Reggie’s and he can’t stop himself from grinning at his friend. However, the cheer from Reggie starts the rest of the crowd, and now the rest of them are cheering and clapping as well. Alex watches, waiting for them to quiet down. When they do, he looks over to his grandmother and smiles. It’s easier than he could have ever imagined to say, “Moving forward, I will be Alexander Charles Taylor Mercer, Prince of Beasiga.”

Once more, cheers rise from the crowd in front of him. His grandmother walks up beside him and he steps out from behind the podium to meet her. She surprises him when she pulls him in to a hug in front of all these people, but he returns it without any hesitance.

When she pulls away, there’s a man waiting beside them, a royal purple and white mantle held in his arms. His grandmother takes it from the man and turns to Alex. He leans down so she can drape it over his shoulders. It weighs heavy on his shoulders and while he’s leaning down next to her he mutters, “do I have to wear this thing often?”

“Just for the next few minutes. Then you won’t see it again until your coronation.”

“Oh, thank god.”

His grandmother laughs and he stands back up, standing beside her with his shoulders tall and proud. The audience is still cheering—he can pick out Luke, Reggie, Julie, and Flynn’s voices in particular—and there are cameras flashing as news reporters get photographs for their articles. There’s a loud whooping from off to the side, separate from the crowd, and Alex looks over to see Willie cupping his hands around his mouth, cheering. He laughs, beaming at his boyfriend who returns the expression right back, and Alex feels on top of the world.

Dinner is served in the ballroom after that, which sends a wave of guilt through Alex as he knows the kitchens plan meals down to the minute, and his delay must have thrown them off horribly. Even so, the food is wonderful and Alex gets to sit with Willie, his band, and Flynn—or, sorry, his “honored guests.” His grandmother is sat at the table next to him with John, Alden, another commercial attaché, and Jeffry and Daniel. She sends him looks every few minutes, especially when Luke or Reggie get too loud, but they’re never bad, merely amused.

After dinner he’s passed from reporter to reporter while the tables and chairs are cleared out of the ballroom and the floor is swept. Alex imagines that it’s going to take forever, but to his surprise it only takes about fifteen minutes between all the staff working. So he only gets to talk to about five reporters, each for about three minutes, and then he’s being taken back to the hall so he can enter with his grandmother separately.

The music playing is an even tempo, one that Alex has become accustomed to dancing to over the past month and a half. When he and his grandmother enter together, right away his eyes begin searching for Willie. He can’t find him even by the time they reach the center of the room, so he releases her hand and leaves her to go off dancing with whoever has approached her and begins walking circles. He has a flash of anxiety that Willie might have left—maybe Willie didn’t want to be seen with Alex as a couple in front of so many cameras? Or even he knew Alex’s dad was here, maybe he didn’t want to upset the man? Or maybe he realized—

The crowd parts to the left of Alex and Willie steps out. Alex’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels the smile take over his face, sees Willie match it.

They approach each other slowly, not hesitantly, just taking their time to look at each other, which Alex feels like he hasn’t done yet. Willie is in a maroon suit with grey accents and a white under shirt. It’s not fitted to him—not the way that Alex’s is, the way Alex’s almost hugs him. Willie’s is a bit big, a bit baggy, but still fits him well enough that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t staring. His hair is down, falling over his shoulders and coming to rest right above where his ribs begin, and Alex reaches out to grab a piece of the end of his hair, twirling it on his finger. “You look good,” he says.

“Just noticing?”

“Do you forget I was having my crisis earlier?”

Willie grins. “Right, the minor one.”

“Very minor, it all turned out okay in the end.”

“Good to hear.”

Alex drops the strand of hair he’s holding and steps back, bowing deliberately. Willie smiles and copies him. They straighten up and step into each other’s arms, relaxing into their holds.

“They’re taking pictures of us,” Willie murmurs and Alex can hear the clicking of the cameras too. “Everyone is going to know by tomorrow.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want anyone to feel like I was hiding this from them,” he says. “And I certainly don’t want to hide you.” He presses his lips against Willie’s forehead and sighs. He tips his head forward so his nose is pressed against Willie’s hairline. “Just think,” he whispers, and his voice is barely audible to even the two of them over the music. “Tomorrow plenty of people all over the world are going to see these pictures and realize how fucking in love with you I am.”

Willie pulls away from Alex and stares up at him with bright eyes full of… full of so much. Full of trust, full of care, full of respect, full of warmth, full of acceptance, full of want. “I’m gone on you,” Willie says, reaching up and dragging Alex’s head down for a kiss. Alex goes, and they keep it chaste and appropriate for the venue, but. It was needed.

When they pull apart, Alex pulls Willie closer to him again and Willie buries his face in Alex’s shoulder as they abandon all pretenses of the traditional ballroom dance and decide to simply sway together. Alex holds Willie and looks up, looking around the room to find nearly every eye on them. The eyes of his friends, his family, the press, diplomatic leaders from around the world, and his new country’s government leaders are all on him and Willie. They just saw them kiss. He laughs and thinks, with a sense of déjà vu, yeah, he’d stare at whoever was kissing Willie too.