“As always, with Mum and Dad,” Charlotte replied, though it was said with a fond smile- their parents weren’t exactly known for keeping the prince and princess in the loop about things, nor were they known for their super rational decision making: the crown spot being the prime example of it- but she loved them dearly.
The comment made Charlotte stand up a little taller, proud for a moment of their reputation, but their shoulders quickly sagged again. “They’re worried, Sutter. We all are,” Charlotte said with a frown. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she added.
He was used to it by now. Used to his parents thinking in the moment instead of planning ahead. It worked for them - and in a lot of ways - it worked for Sutter too. The anxiety of the future got to the prince. He couldn’t handle the pressure of what his future held - the sheer possibility of him taking the throne. Drinking and taking a step back was the easiest way to cope with the royal burden.
Sutter had always figured his parents wanted to keep him close after the kidnapping. Couldn’t bear to see him gone for years after all the time they already lost. It was though, bittersweet being home without his sister. He needed her. To ground him when he strayed so far from himself. “I’d reckon you got used to worrying about me at this point.” Adding a quick shot at himself. A usual deflection tactic he picked up many years ago. “I’m glad to be here. I felt like I was missing out on all the fun.”
The light through the small crack of the curtains found their way to Tegan. Waking him up from the drug filled slumber he had fallen in to last night. The prince had taught himself to virtually ignore the effects of a hangover. But there was no hiding from this. After new years, after the memories of Sloan so harshly flooded his brain - his head felt like it was splitting open. He groaned, as he sat up against the bed frame once again. Specks of the leftover pills still smeared across the mirror on the floor beside him. Tegan couldn’t be bothered to carry on with today. New Years Day. In second place for the worst day of the year. The one-two punch to his emotional gut.
Dried blood stuck to his upper lip, Tegan smeared his hand across his face. The motion so subtle, but enough to make his stomach churn. He felt awful on a nuclear level. Wanted nothing more than to dive back into the bottle and drink this day away along with yesterday. Unfortunately for him. There was nothing left. Nothing but discarded bottles once filled with the precious liquids that kept him afloat. If he wanted the pain in his head to ever go away, he needed to get up from his place. The act sure to make him hurl. Instead he stayed on the floor, in nothing but his briefs, fighting the urge to break down in tears.
The knock of the door didn’t phase him. He stared forward, in his trance. “Go away!” His voice, groggy and low. Void of the darkness he was festering.
Daria at first glance seemed to have everything going for her. A perfect put-together princess with a successful side hustle in being one of the world's most elite models. And even after further inspection, that image was still in tact to any passing commoner or even fellow royals. What just about everyone other than her close family didn't know - was that this bubbly overly joyous deposition she always wore wasn't always the case for the Scottish princess. For a majority of Daria's life - she was riddled with immense anxiety. From as early as eight years old she began having panic attacks. Most seemed to be entirely random. Not triggered by any single event - but from a general worry-filled nature that followed Daria around. She wasn't like her siblings. Wasn't meant for politics. Plight of being the youngest. Everything that was taught to her seemed to go right over her head and that only frustrated her more, sparking the attacks to happen - setting her back to square one. It wasn't until Daria's eighteenth birthday - when she was picked to do a cover story in Scotland's top magazine that she found where she truly belonged. Fashion - She was a near overnight success. International photographers wanted to shoot her. Award winning designers wanted to dress her. She had finally found something she was good at and, for the first time, she knew exactly what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. With her newfound passion - the panic attacks eased down. She wasn't anxious as much now that she found her place. She was finally able to settle. Until Daria got the call. Now two years into her modeling career, happier than ever.
It was a simple voicemail. Her father stating that she must return home right away. Daria was in Sydney, in the middle of a fitting when she saw the phone light up. Her mind went everywhere and yet nowhere all at once. She had never received such messages like this. Anything important went to Lachlan or Lucille, not her. With no other information, she was hit with panic. Daria had not been home in months. In any other situation, she would have been over the moon to see her family. Though, once she was sat down and told the news. Her heart sank and her first panic attack in over a year struck. This one, one of the worst in her life.
Lachlan was captured while serving in Iran. Daria had wasted all this time away from home instead of being with him. And now it might be too late to get any of that time back. Daria remained in Edinburgh until Lachlan was brought home safely. The entire time she was a ball of anxiety. Stressed out to the point of not being able to leave her room without her heart beginning to race. Once she was reunited with her brother, she vowed to make sure they never spent too long apart again. It became a principal of the princess. No matter how busy she became in her career, she would make sure to fly home to see her family.
Now in Thailand, Daria began planning as much activities to do with her siblings as possible. The first item on the docket was fencing. Daria had always wanted to learn how to fence ever since she had met a rather stunning french fencer during Paris Fashion Week a few years back. She had gone all out for the occasion. She ordered a pink jacket and pant combo and donned a french braid to match. Picking up the foil, she eyed over her brother, holding the sword out. "You ready, brother? Ready to get schooled?"
Even after what was now a few months, Thailand was, well…still Thailand. It was warm, it was humid, and fresh sea air filled Eden’s lungs with every breath she took. And yet, something was changing….maybe? The transition into winter was the only tangible explanation the duchess had for the inexplicable feeling which seemed to surround and permeate her since…well, she didn’t quite know when. The inevitable ‘rainy season’, as it seemed to be called, should have stirred a certain dread within her, what with the wind and storms that the island was sure to face in the coming months, but this mystery feeling wasn’t heavy or cold or confining. It was light, warm, free, hopeful.
Eden had shoved aside any and all ponderings that morning, while she arguably over-prepared to make the trek of about three minutes (tops) across the palace to Jesse’s suite. The ever-charming prince had deigned to call the friendly get-together a tea 'date’ from the moment they’d made their plans, which was equally as on-brand for the Swede as it would be wounding to Eden’s rather fragile heart, if she allowed herself to dwell on it. She did not. And so, instead of being wounded, Eden was simply excited. Any chance to spend time with Jesse was one the duchess looked forward to, and the promise of spending time with him alone never failed to have her losing sleep out of giddiness. The previous night being no exception.
Jesse would have tea of his own in his rooms, no doubt, but Eden knew that coffee was his default…and that had her questioning the variety he possessed. The simple solution was to bring along a sampling of her own collection—pared down from the one she had back home, but ultimately, not by much—but simple solutions and Eden Galatas didn’t often jive with one another. Thus, instead of one or two teas…or four, or five…Eden left her suite with a tote bag full of twelve different teas. Then, in her excitement to get to Jesse’s door, she nearly forgot to stop by the kitchens to pick up the batch of pastries she’d asked the very witchy-looking, very scary chef to make for her—a request which had taken Eden a solid three days to work up the courage to make. But, alas, with her bag full of tea, her plastic-wrapped plate full of pastries, and her awareness of anything she might’ve actually forgotten lost to the aether, Eden finally came to a halt in front of Jesse’s door.
It took a bit longer than expected for Eden to hear any sign of life on the other side after she had knocked, but just as she was beginning to feel worry creep in, she heard the tell-tale click of the handle turning. The smile which greeted her was as dazzling as ever, but the requisite evaporation of breath from her lungs stopped itself short this time. There was something different about Jesse’s face. Something not quite right—enough so that Eden barely felt the sting of the endearment he used in greeting her. Her hazel eyes scanned over his features over the course of a fleeting second, noting firstly that they were as breathtaking as ever, but secondly, that the smile he wore was far less effortless than it always seemed. As if instead of merely flipping it on with a switch, he was having to manually crank the generator which powered it. She tried not to let on her suspicion right away, instead playfully narrowing her eyes in response to his words as she stepped past him into his sitting area. But once she was there, she set down the plate on the coffee table, and turned to face the prince with a much-softened expression.
“No use trying to hide from me, J.” she began, tilting her head towards the couch. “Have a seat.”
The feeling of crying was so foreign for the Swede. He hated it. The way his nose stuffed up, the edges of his eyes red and itchy, and the dizzying feeling in the back of his head. It was not a feeling he could ever get used to. It was a rarity for the prince to ever come across such an issue that would warrant tearing up over. As through out his whole life, Jesse never had to come face to face with any of his issues. All would get money thrown at it until it went away.
Maja loved her son. Maybe a little too much. She refused for him to ever lose sleep over any conflict. Maja was a star no matter where she went. She could walk in to a room of a fifty people who had never met her before, and within minutes have all of them queueing up to for a chance to talk to her. Jesse idolized his mother and the way she seemed to tackle everything so effortlessly. He liked to think he was like her in every way. But not completely. In thirty five years of life - Jesse had never seen his mother cry. And he knew that day would probably never come. Maja would never shed a single tear over the deadbeat, worthless man Jesse called a father. Even if she did marry and have his child, she knew her worth. Which was far above weeping over a man.
His instinct was, of course, to hide any evidence of the hurt he was feeling. The weight of his father's absence felt uncomfortable on his skin. Made him want to hop in the shower to rinse himself of this whole ordeal. He might not be able to wash his feelings away. But some tea with his favorite person might just be the thing he needed to get over this dramatic moment of his. He was happy to let Eden in, closing the door behind her. He let out a relieved breath. Under the impression that he got away with masking his hurt from her. But no. Eden Galatas was too good a friend to not see the insincerity of his smile. Jesse should have known. She proved time and time again to be far too good for him. He truly didn't deserve her.
"Nothing gets past you, Blomma." He admitted, accepting defeat. No need in trying to fight it. Jesse was just pleased that he put in enough effort to stop the tears in their deviled tracks. Eden meant the world to Jesse. She was the most sincere and loving person he had ever met. And with the highest of bars he had set for himself, Eden somehow still found a way to make Jesse a better man in such a short time of knowing one another. All that said, there was a line he had drawn fiercely in the sand, and refused to cross with the duchess. That was crying in front of her. The thought alone made his skin crawl. It was not how the Strömbergs conducted themselves. "It's - Well, it's nothing. Honestly."
He walked over to Eden. The smile still plastered on his face, even though Eden had seen right through it. "I tried to call my father - he didn't pick up. It's nothing new. I really shouldn't have been surprised. But I - oh, I don't know - part of me thought he would want to speak to me now that i'm the crown. See how things were going...That doesn't seem to be the case." He shrugged his shoulders and waved the thoughts away with a spare hand. "It's silly, really. I'll be fine. I am fine."
Content Warnings: Alcoholism, Drug Use, Abuse Mention, Victim Blaming, Blood, Death
New Years Eve 2121, 11:51pm
While everyone was staggered together, toasting flutes of expensive champagne, and popping party poppers to ring in the new year - Tegan was far from all the action. A rarity for the prince who made an effort to be around as much chaos as he could get his hands on. Not tonight. Not on New Years Eve. Not on the anniversary of the worst night of Tegan’s life.
Instead of indulging in the open bar and finding someone to kiss as 2122 began - Tegan was in his room alone. Sat in front of his bed, back leaning against the frame, he tipped his head back as the remaining few drops of the potent gin that once filled the glass bottle fell past his lips. He dropped the bottle and let it roll past the discarded clothes and mess that filled his floor. It wasn’t working, the alcohol alone couldn’t fight off the demons that haunted him. He couldn’t escape his sister’s memory. She was a pain in Tegan’s ass. The two rarely got along in the eighteen years they shared together. If ever. But after seven years without his sister, Tegan would do just about anything to see his sister again. To not have to relive her last night every time he tried to sleep. A never ending reminder of Tegan’s worst fuck up in an extensive history of astronomical fuck ups.
The weight was too much for Tegan to bear. His attempts to mask all the hurt with drowning all his sorrows were unsuccessful. His eyes began to well up. He couldn’t fight it and soon tears began to fall. The fireworks boomed outside the window of Tegan’s darkened room. Colors flooded the space, beaming off Tegan’s tear stained face. Wiping them away wasn’t worth the effort. More were bound to fall. He needed to be numb. Clear his mind until he could convince himself he had always been an only child.
His hands fumbled through the scraps that surrounded him until he found the small baggie of multicolored tablets. He had stashed these in his suitcase - knowing he would need a harder high to get through New Year’s. He gripped his Amex card, which served him no real use here, crushing the pills until they were powder - forming them into five neat lines. One down. His vision blurry from the gin - he kept going. Two. Three. Four - his nostrils numb, cut up from the jagged pill edges tearing his sensitive skin. Not that it stopped the prince. Five down. Nothing left. The fireworks were over. Just silence to ring in the new year. Tegan once again left alone. He fell over on his side and pulled his knees to his chest. The tears had ceased all thanks to the chemical compounds of an Oxycontin - Percocet cocktail coursing through his veins. Drops of blood from Tegan’s torn up nose danced to the floor. Tegan was far too numb to even notice the pain. Instead he drifted into a dazed sleep. Hoping the nightmares of New Year’s past wouldn’t come back to haunt him.
New Years Eve 2114, 11:25pm
Once the prince heard the news that his parents would be away for the New Year - Tegan knew exactly what he had to do. The all out rager he had dreamed of throwing in the royal palace for years was finally going to come to fruition. He invited just about anyone he knew. Royals, models, and celebrities alike flew to The Southern Island of New Zealand and packed into the huge estate in Wellington. Not too long after the initial guests started to arrive, strangers found their way to the home as well. Regular old civilians with no social cred found the many posts of the party and decided to shoot their shot to attend the party of the year. Tegan wasn’t picky. And would never turn the great people of New Zealand away. Even if they, in just under an hour, found a way to trash his home. In fact - In Tegan’s mind - the wreckage was a huge plus. It was what his parents deserved after years of torment at Tegan's expense.
Bottles and discarded cups riddled the floor. People were running wet and naked through the halls from skinny dipping in the pool. Portraits of generations of Campbells were defaced and stained. A group of models were in the kitchen doing lines of coke off what Tegan was half sure was an urn of some kind. It was bliss. Everything Tegan wanted tonight to be.
The master of debutary himself was currently being surrounded by a small crowd of people he had never met before tonight. Most shirtless from a really competitive strip poker game that happened earlier. Tegan was a little too busy showing a very attractive attendee a personal and private tour of his bedroom, that he unfortunately missed out on the game. He was on his knees a beer bong hovering over his head.
“This one’s for the king!” He shouted - the crowd mimicked as Tegan wrapped his lips around the tube and prepared for the waterfall of beer coming his way. This was not his first rodeo in the art of chugging beer. He would even go so far to admit he was a professional at the act. “For the king! For the King!” The irony was not lost on Tegan, like it was to all the commoners chanting. He took a can and a half’s worth, before tapping out. The remnants from the funnel splashing out and on to his chest. The buttoned shirt he was wearing; half done up.
“TEGAN CAMPBELL!” The voice was shrill, nails on an old rickety chalkboard. An easily discernible quality of the Crown Princess. Tegan knew what was to come.
He plastered on mock fear. Looking up at the others who were enjoying themselves mere moments before. “Oh shit, mates. She got out…” He looked back in horror as he lifted himself to his feet. “She’s coming for us. Run! Go now! It’s too late for me, but you can save yourselves!” The assorted group laughed as they played along. Turning down the hall and sprinting away. “Tell my story!” He screamed after them. Once they turned the corner, Tegan sighed as reality hit him. Well, it was a fun night while it lasted.
Tegan turned and flashed his sister a big happy grin. He held his arms out as he met her half way, The two in the center of the second floor landing, looking over the main foyer. “Sloaney Baloney! There you are!” Tegan turned to the crowd of people on the first floor. “Guys look! It’s your royal highness, out of her lair to grant us with her presence! What an honor.” The drunken attendees cheered the air, red solo cups in hand. “How are the flying monkeys, by the way? Taking good care of them, I hope?”
The princess rolled her eyes, arms crossed across her chest. “Oh - I’m a witch. So clever, Tegan. Hilarious.” She was clearly not amused. But that only made Tegan want to pester her more. “If i’m the wicked witch - what does that make you? Part scarecrow, part tin man? - No heart and no brains?”
“Ouch Sloaney.” He replied, mocking hurt with a hand to his chest. Part of him was actually impressed with the quick witted comeback. She was picking up on Tegan’s skills. “It’s a damn shame houses just don’t get dropped on evil sisters like they used to.”
The mild annoyance in Sloan turned to genuine frustration. A terrifying turn that Tegan knew to spot in his whole family. “Tegan, enough of th- god, it's so loud out here. I can’t even hear myself think! Can we please go somewhere private?”
“Fine.” Tegan complied, rolling his eyes, as the siblings crossed the hall to one of the many parlors in the mansion they called home. One of them felt far more at home in this space than the other. Except for tonight. When Tegan turned the place that harbored so much of his trauma into his own personal playground. Pushing Sloan out of her comfort zone for once. It was beautiful. All Tegan could hope for - was that even with all the alcohol coursing through his veins, he’d be able to always remember this night.
The room was a wreck. A bra was hanging over the piano, a few condom wrappers on the floor beside it. And the couch cushions were stained with something Tegan did not wish to determine. The Campbell’s Royal Estate had seemingly over a couple of hours turned into a frat house. But by some sort of miracle, there wasn’t anyone in the room. No audience present for Tegan to get the third degree from his sister.
New Years Eve 2114, 11:44pm
Tegan closed the door behind them. He held his face in his hands and then lifted them to run his fingers through his beer dampened hair. “What do you want, Sloaney Baloney? Wanted to get a little more torture in before the new year?”
“Don’t Sloaney Baloney me. You know I hate that ridiculous nickname. And if anyone is torturing anyone tonight. It’s you - ruining my night.” She was frustrated, clearly, but not at full Sloan rage capacity. There was still time. “The second mum and dad are gone, you go and throw this shit?! What is actually wrong with you, Tegan?”
Tegan nodded along, half listening to her drone on and on. Nothing new. “God, Sloan, please just relax. For once, have a little fun, won’t you? We can go back out there - I can get you a joint, someone to give you a much needed orgasm and you feel much better, eh?”
“You’re disgusting, Tegan. Can we please, for once, have a normal conversation. And for you to not turn everything into one big joke? Can you just do that?” She pleaded. Her eyes read just how upset she was.
Tegan just laughed, picking up a half empty bottle of vodka that was on top of a side table next to the door. He took a much needed swig. The conversation at hand was killing his buzz. “Where is the fun in that?”
“That’s the thing, Tegan. There isn't any. Life isn’t all parties and slacking off. Sometimes you need to put your big boy parents on and act like the adult you are.” Sloan closed the distance and took the bottle. “You think you’re so cool. The playboy prince - so down to earth. Well - your highness, the only thing you are is a joke. Those fools out there. All those delinquents wrecking the home we grew up in. They don’t care about you. They’re not friends, Tegan. You’re a fucking pathetic laughing stock and I pray to fucking god mum and dad finally disown you over this.”
The truth was Sloan was right. Tegan knew that. Knew that all the alcohol, sex, and partying were merely temporary placeholders to fill the emptiness he perpetually felt. That no one liked him. Not really. It was all a distraction. A distraction he really wanted to get back to. At least out there he didn’t have to face his demons head first.
“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?” Sloan continued. The rage was building fast. The train was roaring out of the station and Tegan was tied to the tracks with no escape. “You see me as this villain. The big bad wolf come to blow your coke filled house down. And I'm sick of it. Sick of being the bad guy. When it’s you. It’s always been you! You fuck up time and time again. Act like the mistake that you are and I'm left to pick up the pieces. I’m so fucking sick of it Tegan! I’m done!”
She was belligerent. No tears in her eyes. The Campbells were trained very young to never show weakness like that. Fury was the more favorable emotion to misery. Tegan could never fit that mold. There was too much sadness in him. He couldn’t fight it away like his parents and Sloan could. That’s when the drinking began. He couldn’t numb himself without the chemical help. “Must be really difficult being the favorite, Sloan. I’m so sorry mum and dad love you more. Hell - love you at all.”
“Don’t put that on me. You knew what you were doing. The same way you know what you’re doing now. Can’t play with matches and get upset when you burn your fingers. ”
“Cut the shit, Sloan.” The numbness was gone. He couldn’t fight it off. As much as he refused to admit it. He was a Campbell. The rage was there. “I was a fucking kid. A miserable, lonely kid who needed real affection and care - not to be slammed into a wall for cursing at the dinner table.” The mood shifted. Tegan never spoke of the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father. The big family secret that everyone knew about. Just chose to ignore. “Who cares if I want to drink all night and sleep with whoever I want. Maybe after all the shit I suffered, it’s what I fucking deserve.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then it happened. Tears filled Sloan’s eyes. Nothing fell out yet. The liquid stuck in place. In eighteen years, Tegan had never seen his sister cry. “I tried. I fucking tried to help you, Tegan.” She gripped her shoulder with the hand that wasn’t tightly stuck to the bottle, comforting herself, as she spoke. “I pleaded for him to go easier on you. I thought it was some phase. That you were acting out as the spare. But you never grew out of it, Tegan. You got older and got worse. There’s only so much I can do. How am I supposed to help you if you won’t help yourself?! Huh?! What was I supposed to do? You push and push and then snap at me because I was treated differently. Well whose fault is that?”
“Whose fault? Whose fucking fault?! Are you seriously trying to blame me?”
“What should have I done? Tell me, Tegan. Would it really have been better if it was me too? If dad hated us both? If mum was so afraid to face her reality, she refused to even look at me?!” Sloan and Tegan were in each other’s face now. Close to two decades of fights, none ever seemed to get this personal. Tegan never let it get there. Always laughed it off before it hurt too much. “That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? For me to be just as miserable as you are. It makes you so sick to know you’re the only one struggling.” Hysterical, she was waving the bottle around as she spoke. “But no. I fucking refuse to let you drag me down with you. Face it, Tegan. We’re not the same. We will never be.”
“Good. The last thing I’d ever want to be is Sloan Campbell. A stuck up, ass kissing, selfish, hateful, bitch!”
The sound of shattered glass played out first. The bottle falling from Sloan’s hand and the quarter of vodka left splashing onto their feet. Neither had time to react. Before all the pieces fell dormant, Sloan’s now empty hand came up and slapped it’s way across Tegan’s cheek. The family ring the princess wore on her pointer finger cutting the top of Tegan’s lip. Sloan gasped and covered her mouth with the weapon she just unleashed. He froze in place, taking his own hand to his now bleeding lip. He looked down at his sister. In shock. “Tegan - I-I’m so sorry…I didn’t - I didn’t mean to…I-”
New Years Eve 2114, 11:58pm
Tegan stormed out of the room. He just wanted to get back to the party and forget this little run in with his sister. The sting of his lip not being numbed enough. A familiar issue Tegan had forced himself to get accustomed to. Hard to ignore the pain of his reality, when the marks on his skin didn’t go away.
“Tegan - wait!” Sloan shouted, as she followed behind her brother. She was visibly upset, finally letting the tears that were building up out.
“Leave me alone, Sloan!” Sloan had quickly caught up with Tegan. She reached out to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks, the anger built up past the point of no return. Tegan was also highly skilled in masking his feelings. His method was to bury it all under alcohol and fake charm until his real self felt like the fake version. But at this moment, there was no facade left to put on. “Don’t fucking touch me!” He snapped. Tegan never snapped. Always played it cool. But he had no remorse left for Sloan - after how low she stepped.
Shrugging her hand off his shoulder, Tegan turned around quickly on his heels and threw his arms out to push Sloan away. All the frustration of years of abuse at his father’s hands bubbled to the surface and he couldn’t fight it back anymore. He used more force than he thought he was capable of.
Sloan stumbled back. Her socks slipping on the expensive marble floors of the palace. She slid, her head colliding with the banister, her body going limp and then falling down the stairs. Streaks of red were left behind on each gaudy white step. The sound that echoed through the foyer as her body hit the end of the staircase was like nothing a horror movie could ever conjure up. It was horrifying. The view of a battered Sloan being the only thing to top the obscenity of it all.
There was a brief moment of pause. Just a few seconds. The music that was once blaring cut and anyone that was in ear shot gathered in a crowd around the princess’ lifeless body. Once Tegan came to, He sprinted down the steps. Stepping through the mess until he got to the ground floor. He sat on the bottom step and picked Sloan’s top half, holding her close. The view was much more gruesome up close. There was no coming back from this. Tegan knew. Everyone onlooking knew. Not with all the blood that was surrounding the two Campbells. “Sloan….Sloan stop - please. Say something.” He had to try. Say something, anything to fill the deafening silence of shock. “Sloaney…this isn’t fucking funny…” He shook her shoulders, dead eyes staring wide and bloodshot up at Tegan. His tears fell and dripped down her pale face. “Fuck - Fuck - no! Fuck - this can’t be fucking happening!”
‘Three! Two! One!’ The rest of the house that was spared from seeing the horror show cheered and count-downed the new year. Fireworks began booming outside the window. Colors flared across Tegan and Sloan. “This is my fault. This is all my fault.” He chanted over and over, rocking back and forth. No one went to him. No one tried to calm him down. They all remained still, watching Tegan’s meltdown. Boom after boom echoing behind Tegan’s pleas.
The next few hours all went by around Tegan. People were corralled and forced to sign papers before being able to leave. The house was cleaned - all remnants of the party lost to the criminal conspiracy that was being built. Even when Sloan’s body was taken from him, he remained holding his arms out. Still rocking in place. Lawyers, advisors, and eventually the authorities tried to speak to Tegan. But he was frozen. In a trance. Covered in blood, unable to even make a sound. He wasn’t even sure he was blinking or breathing. All he could see was Sloan falling down the steps. Over and over.
It felt unreal. A horrific nightmare that only Tegan’s twisted mind could have come up with. Except it was all real. Everything was in Tegan’s hands now. A fate that felt like a harsher punishment than Sloan was given. It should have been Tegan. He should be the one in the body bag, being rolled outside. Not Sloan. Not the best and only person who could do this horrible job. The worst thing about Sloan was that she was always right. Tegan was a fuck up. A wildfire that took everyone down with him. He made his bed and now all there was left to do was sleep in it.
Her eyes narrowed at the prince as he seemed to focus more on the maid who was hearing the whole fiasco rather than her and what she was requesting of him. She should have known. He’d always been the one to follow all of the rules and letting someone in on the fact that Kendall had hurt her so badly was not allowed, at least not in his precious father’s eyes. “Do you really think I care right now?” Instead of her voice becoming shrill like it usually did when she was upset there was terribly quiet danger lurking in her words. The last thing he needed to worry about was the maid. Then again, Noemi didn’t really want her own business out there either…at least more of her business anyway.
It was rich. The fact that he had spent all of that time ignoring her when everything had first happened, making her believe that she was nothing, and now he wouldn’t abide by her simple request because he needed to get something off of his chest. Why did it always seem like it was about what he wanted? Normally, she would sit back and give everything she had to another to make them feel comfortable. Normally, she would be just fine letting someone walk all over her. But this…this was too much. She was so angry with the whole situation that she wasn’t willing to honor his request and Noemi felt her body turning to walk away despite her heart screaming at her to stay.
She could hear his apology, her steps becoming more hesitant as he continued, but she wasn’t stopping. At least not until he’d uttered the one thing she had always wanted to hear from him…from anybody really. Love. It was what she fought for her whole life, it was the thing she craved most in this world, and now she was hearing it from someone who had torn her to pieces years ago. The princess stopped in her tracks after catching the present tense of the word before he’d corrected himself and she suddenly felt like she could breath again as she kept her back to him.
Moments passed as she tried to figure out what to do, what she was feeling in that moment. Had she loved Kendall? Of course, she had loved him with all of her heart. Did she still love him? There would always be a part of her that did. But she couldn’t get passed everything he’d put her through. At least not in that moment. “That’s not fair.” She wasn’t even sure if he’d heard her. The words had been low with the disbelief at what he’d just said. She turned back to Kendall and studied him, looking for any sign that he was trying to save face by misleading her. “If you loved me…why wouldn’t you even talk to me, Kendall? You just kept ignoring me…”
He watched as the maid in question left the large room they were in. “I know - I know, I just think it’s best we have this discussion in private.” He was once again internally kicking himself for how he was coming off. He didn't want to make this apology about him. It was already long overdo. This whole situation was meant to give the princess closure. It shouldn't be about Kendall and what he personally needed to get out of this whole apology. Which was merely the satisfaction of getting the words that were trapped in him, finally out. But the years of secrecy were so deeply ingrained in to him, he couldn't bypass it - even for her sake.
He had to say something. He had to finally be brave and speak his mind. For once, he couldn't hide behind the cowardice that was instilled in him from his father - but nothing could prepare him for the way Noemi was looking at him. This was what he wanted to say for over a decade. Had prepared the speech over and over again in the mirror until it was so ingrained in his memory that a day wouldn't go by where it wasn't the last thing he thought about before falling asleep and the first thing he thought about in the morning. And maybe he didn't get the words just right went it actually came to speaking to Noemi in person. But the idea of what he was trying to convey was there. As hurtful as it was.
Noemi deserved to walk off. As much as Ken needed to get this off his chest. She shouldn't have to go through the pain of reliving what was most likely the worst day of her life just so some man she used to feel for could give himself a pat on the back. Noemi deserved to leave this matter behind her and never have to face the man who made her do this again. And on the other hand, Kendall deserved to lose Noemi in the process. He needed to get over the idea that there could be any future between the two of them. Not after what he did. Not after years of refusing to reach out. He didn't deserve that relationship. Not with Noemi. Not with anyone.
The silence that once again loomed between them when Noemi stopped in her tracks was enough to once again make Kendall's heart reset in his chest. It was a slip up, yes, but it was true. Kendall still did love Noemi. He never stopped loving her. He never could find the words to confess his feelings to the princess while they were together. Another regret Kendall harbored over the years. "I did love you. You meant everything to me, Noemi. I know it doesn't seem like it. And that's all my fault. But it's true." The words hurt to even utter. It felt like a nightmare. Exactly how he expected this conversation to go, but still a cold handed slap to the face in reality. "I was afraid. I didn't want my dad to find out. And I couldn't face it. I - What I did. Talking to you only made me hate myself more."
She stiffened as the hands went over her eyes, and let out a frightened squeak that was rather unbecoming of a future queen- but then she heard a voice, with an accent identical to her own, and whirled around to see Sutter. “Well, in that case, I’m leaving,” Charlotte said with a scoff, maintaining the facade only for a moment before throwing their arms around their brother and pulling him in for a hug.
“Hi! Did I know you would be here?” she asked, holding him at arms’ length with hands on his shoulders, allowing herself to fret over him for just a moment before letting go. “I can’t believe Mum and Dad finally got around to sending you off, I thought it’d never happen.”
As soon as she turned around, he lit up. He really did miss his sister. Contrary to what it might look like on the outside looking in. He held onto her tightly as she hugged him. There might always be the elephant in the room that was the crown spot looming in the room wherever the two went, but Sutter had developed a nifty coping mechanism to avoid that pressure. The excessive drinking being a healthy coping skill was a whole other issue the Hanover's avoided altogether. "Doubt it." Sutter knew his parents a little too well by now. "Have to keep us on our toes, right?"
"You're more important, Char. They know you will be on your best behavior." He admitted with a slight laugh. It was a hard truth to swallow. But Sutter was used to it by now. "You would think after the whole 'being kidnapped' thing they would be worried about my safety. But guess not." He was joking, for the most part.
Ausra’d been enjoying Thailand since they’d gotten there. Sure, it was a little warm for her taste, but the beach was so nice and she’d yet to meet someone she didn’t like. Then again, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d met someone she didn’t like, whether in Thailand, Russia, or anywhere else in the world.
Picking a chair by happenstance she sat down next to someone in the diningroom, glass of wine in hand. “Even when it’s raining here it’s still so pretty, I can’t believe it,” she said with a grin at the other. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved Russia, but it’s so gorgeous here. This is my first time this far south, you know? And I think after we get out of here I’m going to have to visit again. Maybe and annual vacation.”
Kendall had been out of it for the past few weeks. After seeing Noemi - those feelings for the princess resurfacing and forcing him to relive the worst time in his life on repeat until he had buried himself so deep in a guilt filled hole, he couldn't get out no matter how hard he tried. His mind was always elsewhere as he went by with his days. Sometimes finding himself disassociating fully - his head lost in thought on what to do next.
Tonight at dinner was yet another instance of that. He was off in his own little world. The food in front of him not touched despite dinner being served almost twenty minutes ago. He saw Ausra sit next to him, watched as she went off on her tangent. He looked around the table to see if she could possibly be talking to someone else - but they were the only ones around. Ken imagining he didn't give off the energy of being good company at the moment. "Yeah...it is really nice here. Sorry - I didn't realize you were - never mind, it's not important. I think an annual vacation sounds like a good idea.”
It finally felt like Izsak’s life was going in the right direction. He met a boy. A real breathing human who actually found him attractive. The two went on three dates including Halloween. Izsak didn’t take dressing up too seriously. Throwing on some cat ears on to his usual black hoodie and jeans get up. But for the first time in forever, he enjoyed Halloween. He had no worries about the candy and desserts that were lining the tables. He wasn’t in his head about how he looked. All his focus was on Kostya and how happy he made him feel.
It still didn’t feel real that he even knew who he was. Let alone ask thar he would ask to go back to Izsak’s room. Which Izsak happily agreed to. He had seen enough rom-coms in his life to know what the third date meant. He liked Kostya. And Kostya liked him back. It was that simple. Izsak wasn’t going to let his anxiety stop him from finally losing the virginity he’d been holding so tightly on. He had built up the moment in his head a million times over. Thought about Cameron and how the plan had been to lose it to him before it was revealed he wasn’t even real. It wasn’t exactly what he thought it would be. Not the perfect romantic night he dreamed about. But it was perfect for what is was.
Waking up to the sun rays rising into his room, the pleasant memories of last night filled his head. Thinking about Kostya’s hands, lips, and much more all over him might have been the best possible way to awake at this too early of an hour. Since he started working out every day. A coping mechanism he enacted after the leak reset all his body image issues. The issues weren’t entirely gone, but he was getting there. Kostya helping immensely with that. He sat up, the body of the much taller man lying next to him. Izsak couldn’t remember the last time he was this happy. He refused to let himself overthink this. Today, while he basked in the beauty that was Kostya, he refused to let the intrusive thoughts get to him. “Morning.”
Jesse didn't talk much with his biological father. He didn't talk much with any of the men that at one point called themselves his father. But with the holidays quickly approaching, Jesse knew he had to try to at least reach out to the man. Christmas, father's day, and Jesse's birthday being the three chances he gave his father to actually make an attempt to be a dad. More often than not, the Swedish business magnet didn't even answer the phone when Jesse called. A few days later Jesse receiving some sort of text or e-mail apologizing for not being available and some short sentiment on how 'proud' he was of the boy. Ending the whole ordeal with paying Jesse some large amount to buy his affection. Which worked when Jesse was young. Now? It was just sad. The money was a pointless gift when the man's bank account rivaled the national treasury of a small country's. He didn't want cash or a new car. All he wanted was to have some sort of relationship with his father.
He prepared himself for disappointment once again. Standing on his balcony, one of the few places he had service, he made sure to triple check his math with the differing time zones and call at an appropriate time for the man to hopefully pick up. No luck. He waited a few minutes, called again. No answer again. Another break. Third time is not the charm, as the man once again didn't pick up. Defeated, Jesse gave up. Didn't even bother leaving a message. Not like he would listen to it anyway.
Walking back into the room, Jesse threw his phone onto the bed. He knew he was maybe a little too old to be waiting for Daddy to return his call. But Jesse couldn't help it. He, for once, wanted to have that man to man talk like in the movies. Get advice from someone other than his mother, who approved of Jesse no matter what he did. His father hadn't even spoken to him since he's been crowned. Not even so much as a text. He was to be king someday. He was completely lost. About to run the country he loved so much, married to someone he might not even love. It was a huge blip on the nearly easy road he had been going on since he was born.
The frustration caught up with him suddenly. As he stared at the phone amongst the sheets. Still a dark screen, he felt his eyes begin to well up. It wasn't very often Jesse cried. He rarely had a reason to. And honestly, the feeling in itself felt foolish. He much rather live his life worry and care free. As the first tear fell down his cheek, he quickly wiped it away. Annoyed with himself for letting it get this bad. Crying over his father who was only doing exactly as Jesse expected him to be, was just not worth the effort. He shouldn't care this much if his father wants nothing to do with him. It wasn't like the man was ever really a presence in his life. He was merely a sperm donor, not a father. Not to Jesse at least. And yet he couldn't shake the disappointment from his head. He wanted to so badly to have that connection. And it broke his heart that he would never get it.
Two measly tears now had escaped. Despite how much Jesse was trying to fight it. Then, the kick while he was already down - he heard the knock of the door. It was Thursday. Jesse had invited Eden over to have tea on Thursday. Shit. He had completely forgot. Time going by at a different rate so far from society. But it was Eden. Sweet, perfect Eden. He couldn't just cancel. Not now. The duchess was too innocent to say no to. She was a beaming, shining light and Jesse would forever be grateful to have the woman in his life. She didn't deserve to have to deal with his grumpy ass today.
So Jesse composed himself. Quickly wiping his tear stained cheeks dry and hoping it wasn't too noticeable, as he made his way over to the door. He took a deep breath and painted on the charming smile the duchess was used to, before opening the door. "Eden! My love! Don't think I forgot about our tea date!"
Unfortunately the time had once again come. Time to pay rent. Which meant Belle, the usually happy-go-lucky book shop owner would have to pay the grumpy recluse she had for a landlord a visit. Sure, in the year 2021 - she could probably set up an automatic payment option. But Belle had always been a fan of in-person interactions more. Since after high school, Belle had made a point to become the outgoing people person she always wanted to be. Which she was proud to say had finally come to fruition. The once shy oddball girl had to make up for years of isolating herself growing up.
She wasn't ready to throw in the towel with Adam just yet. So she left the shop early in the morning and rode her bike down to Adam's place. She had once again put off on learning how to drive another month. Maybe two. Preferring her bike and the fresh air to a car any day. Belle took the papers, neatly folded into a pink envelope, from the basket of her bike and walked up to the door of the mansion. An eye sore in such a nice town like Sleepy Hollow if you asked Belle - but she doubted Adam cared too much about her opinion. She rang the doorbell and waited, fiddling with the ends of her hair to keep herself busy.
Sutter being sent to Thailand was a last ditch effort from his parents to clean his act up. He was given strict instructions to behave and make all of Australia proud while he was away. Which only made matters worse. As if the pressure of his perfection obsessed parents literally pitting him up against his sister for a job he didn't even want wasn't the real reason he needed to drown his worries with the bottle. Any sort of bottle would do. At this point, Sutter wasn't really picky. Whatever could get him to calm his nerves and forget he was ever deemed a prince. His sister, at least, would help lessen the blow of having to pick up his whole life and move for who knew how long. They might not be the closest siblings - they had their parents to thank for that - but Sutter did look up to Charlotte. He genuinely felt it would be for the best if she were to be crowned. She deserved to be queen. Way more than he ever could.
Sutter wasn't sure if Charlotte was even told he would be arriving. It was very sudden. The king and queen giving Sutter a day to pack his things, without a choice in the matter. He threw his bags in his room, not even taking the time to check the space out and went looking for his sister or anyone he knew. Eventually he saw Charlotte and knew what he had to do. He snuck his way around the room so not to be spotted before the reveal. He got behind her, placing his hands over her eyes. "Did you hear? They are just letting any bloke in here now."
“Role of a Lifetime” - From Bare: A Pop Opera / “boys” - andrew muccitelli / “Pink Light” - MUNA
Ethan grew up in Camden - a poor area of London. He was raised by a single mother as his father, an alcoholic and gambler, was in and out of jail his whole life.
Ethan played sports all through out school. Being part of the Rugby and Football team - left Ethan to be in with the “popular” crowd. Going to house parties and staying up talking about the fit girls in school, Ethan never felt comfortable enough to come out to his friends. He was terrified how’d they accept someone so close to them being gay. So he remained in the closet. Slept with girls to keep up his straight boy image and finally broke away once he graduated.
A guard to English Royals; he’s loyal to the family and has worked for them for years.
After a couple of months of working as a bodyguard to the English heirs, Ethan and the prince, Thomas started to date behind closed doors. Thomas not out yet. They had to hide their relationship as it grew more and more serious. All from the fear of public shame of a gay prince dating a commoner like Ethan.
After Mia’s kidnappings the Adley monarch’s safety concerns grew. They sent Ethan to Russia to watch over Thomas and Mia. And Ethan happily complied. That short month being the longest time he had been away from Thomas.
The two continued to date in secret while in Russia. The only person aware of their affair being Mia - who found out after Ethan accidentally let on he was seeing Thomas.
Right before the royals were sent to Russia, Ethan and his sister, Alex, found out their mother had developed pancreatic cancer. Ethan kept a secret for the entirety of his stay in Russia. Working as many as shifts as he could to send money home and support his struggling family.
After about two years - Ethan’s mother passed away. Ethan was completely broken. Confessed everything to Thomas and left on a plane that night back to Heathrow.
He stayed in England for a couple of months - planning with his sister on how they would live with their mother gone.
Eventually he heard the news that the royals were being moved from Russia to Thailand. After enough mourning and saving up enough funds to pay off his childhood home - Ethan decided to leave for Thailand.
It was hard being away from Thomas for so long. Right now - all he needs is his boyfriend.
"favorite crime" - olivia rodrigio / “could cry just thinkin about you” - troye sivan / “bullseye” - charli adams
Triggers: Eating Disorder
Izsak is the youngest of the Hungarian monarch. With his two sisters always in line and prepped to someday take the throne - Izsak was the natural black sheep of the family.
Izsak always looked up to his sister’s. He thought the world of them. But sometimes - it felt like the feelings weren’t mutual. Especially with Sarika.
A lonely kid, Izsak spent most of his time stowed away in his room. Over analyzing himself in the mirror. Comparing himself to all the other royals in the world. Where there was no competition. He was the worse off by far.
These insecurities began manifesting itself in his eating habits. Izsak started skipping meals here and there - liking the effects - he escalated to skipping whole days of eating entirely. He was shedding weight quick. But no one in the castle made note of it. They didn’t even notice. Which was not much of a shock to the prince and only fueled him to keep going.
Izsak didn’t usually spend too much time online. Too many good looking celebrities flaunting their perfect bodies for him. But on an off day he managed to see a dm sent his way. His name was Cameron. He had snuck into the prince’s inbox and was immediately started fanning the boy with compliments. They became quick friends. Talking nearly every moment of every day. Cameron made Izsak feel special. While they were talking, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Izsak wasn’t insecure. He was happy. He’d do anything to continue feeling like this
Eventually their friendship bloomed into a relationship. All still online. It was almost always Cameron who would convince Izsak to send a nude photo or to call him up for a phone sex session. Even once over video call. Despite Izsak’s hangups with it, he never said no. He willingly played along because he loved Cameron and would do anything for him. Even take pictures of his naked body that he hated so much.
What Izsak didn’t know was that Cameron wasn’t real. Just a ploy by the rebels to humiliate the Hungarian royal family. After a full year of dating, Izsak awoke to the news that his whole relationship. Every little detail, message, picture, call, and video he sent to Cameron was splayed on the internet for the whole world to see. And everyone did see it. In just a couple of hours - it was the most clicked on link in Europe. It felt like there wasn’t a person on earth who hadn’t seen all of Izsak’s nudes.
Izsak felt his heart sink. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Himself - naked - posing in the mirror. He was sick to his stomach. And if the embarrassing nature of his naked body wasn’t enough. The document also had screenshots of all of Izsak and Cameron’s text chats. Conversations Izsak thought were in confidence. In them - he sometimes spoke about his family. Complained about feeling left out so often. Talked about how ungrateful his sister was to turn down the throne. And plenty more peaks behind the Vari family curtain.
When Izsak was with Cameron - he was in recovery. He was starting to eat more - feel more comfortable in his skin. But none of that was real. It was a lie - which left Izsak to revert back to his bad habits - double down on them as some sort of punishment for ever thinking he could have been good enough for someone like Cameron.
Eventually The Vari’s decided to send Izsak to Russia along with Sarika and Magdalena. Although he was in a different country - nothing changed much while Izsak was in Russia. He mostly stayed stowed away in his room avoiding everyone. Heading to Thailand should be a chance to put himself out there more - but Izsak still wasn’t sure he was comfortable enough yet.
She hadn’t noticed the man as he dealt with the mental tug of war in his head, Noemi busy speaking with one of the maids who had been trying to tidy up the room she’d just happened to be in. What had started as polite conversation had eventually turned into the princess giving the other girl the bracelet she’d been wearing and the two had been admiring it on the maid’s wrist when she’d heard the voice, one she hadn’t heard for years. His very presence made Noemi’s blood run cold, the girl refusing to lift her head up and fix her gaze on him as her mind started to instantly race with everything she had ever want to scream at him.
And at the same time as her anger started to flare up and the despair of the situation she had thought she’d left behind started to quickly eat away at her soul Noemi couldn’t help but feel that little dip in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Kendall. God, she hated it. She hated how he still had some sort of hold on her after all of this time, after everything he had put her through, after what he’d made her do while alone and terrified. Her hands, still on the maid’s wrist as the other girl looked up at the prince, started to shake. He had some nerve, truly. This man was incredibly ballsy.
“After what you put me through that’s what you have to say to me?”
She truly couldn’t believe that this moment was happening. As the maid stood to leave, clearly knowing this moment was not going to end well, Noemi finally looked up into those eyes she used to get lost in knowing that she still could potentially do so. He’d been her first love, the person she had thought she’d spend the rest of her life with, that was a hard thing to let go of no matter what had ended things between them. But no, even though there had been a slight chance that she would just fall back into old habits, she still felt every ounce of the emotion he had caused and it seemed to flood her as soon as their eyes met.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to cry and tell the world what he’d done to her but Noemi swallowed all of that back somehow as she stood to her feet. “I’m only going to say this once: Stay away from me, Kendall.” Each word was a struggle to get out, her throat tightening around every syllable while she strained to keep her composure. They were in public and she’d already made a fool of herself at the after party, she didn’t need to do so again. “Just stay away, please.”
There were plenty of better words the prince could have gone with. ‘I’m sorry’ 'I never should have done that to you.’ 'I wish I was there for you’ being some of the highlights of the list. But no. Kendall decided to comment on how good she looked. Which was true yes. He still was in awe of her when he saw her. Noted how incredibly beautiful she was and how incredibly lucky he was for someone like Noemi to ever give him the time of day. A fact she surely regretted doing every day. But that should have been the last thing for the prince to say out loud. He couldn’t get anything of note out. All the right words getting stuck on his tongue. He didn’t know how to start. Didn’t know what to say. So he said that. Bad choice.
“Right. I just didn’t want to…” He tried to form the words. But was failing miserably. “…We - Shouldn’t we not say - You know - in front of…” His eyes falling to the poor maid caught in the middle of their drama. Luckily she seemed so uncomfortable, she got up and excused herself in time to save Kendall from coming off as an dismissive asshole. More than he already was that is.
He was in a state of panic now. His heart starting to ache with each passing beat. He’d accept a heart attack right about now. It would be easier than having to talk about the biggest regret of his life. Something that he tried to day in and day out to forget ever happened. But couldn’t no matter how often his father demanded he do. He understood Noemi fully. He could barely look himself in the mirror after everything that happened. He was ashamed, haunted for how he could be so heartless. He wasn’t his father. He wasn’t cutthroat. Or he thought he wasn’t. But now - seeing how crushed Noemi was. How much anger he caused just by being around her - he never felt more like his dad. Kendall could try to blame the king for it all. Try to tell himself that he had no choice but to abide in his father’s wicked wishes. But that just wasn’t the case. He sat back and let it happened. Didn’t go to be with Noemi while she had to deal with the aftermath of Kendall’s naivety. Noemi had every right to hate him. He hated himself too.
“I will leave you alone. I promise after this you won’t have to hear my voice ever again. But I just need to get this off my chest.” He took a deep breath. Holding himself back from crying. A skill he learned after a lifetime of being ridiculed for tearing up. Had to be the manliest of mans to serve in politics. “I fucked up. What I did. What you had to do. It was irredeemable and I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. Just know. - I am so sorry for how it ended.” Should have ended it there. Should have just turned around and walked away. Let Noemi have some peace. “I love - loved you. I was a coward. And - And a day doesn’t go by where I don’t regret it. You deserved so much better.”
Kendall knew this day was bound to come eventually. He couldn’t hide from his past forever. The skeletons in his closet had to eventually fall out. What he did, all the shitty things he said, ate away at his psyche. He was supposed to forget what happened. Forget her. But instead, it only festered in the back of his head and haunted him more and more as time went on. He couldn’t just move on. How could he? He wasn’t ruthless like his father. Wasn’t compliant like his mother. He was weak. That’s what got him in this situation in the first place. If only he had the courage to stand up for himself - who knew where in life he’d be? He could be married. He could be a dad. He could be happy. But no, he had to hide behind his dad. But he wasn’t here now. Kendall finally had the freedom to make his own decisions.
Butterflies began to fill his stomach as soon as he saw her across the room. The same butterflies he felt all those other times he found himself running into Noemi. The only difference now was that his father was thousands of miles away. He couldn’t force Kendall to deny his true feelings for the princess. He had no excuse in ignoring her here. Who knew how long the royals were bound to stay in Thailand? They were already in Russia for two years. The exes couldn’t avoid each other or the elephant always in the room with them if they were living on the same island.
If Kendall ever wanted to get rid of the guilt and move on, he needed to start with an apology. And there was no better time than the present. ‘Or maybe next time would be better? Tomorrow might be a nicer day. Then I can do it while it’s sunny.’ He decided in his head, turning on his heels and heading towards the door. His hand reaching out for the handle and then falling to his side. ‘Fuck it’. He needed to get it over with. Noemi was always going to hate him. Rightfully so. He just needed to pull the band-aid off and go on from there. He turned back and shook out his hands, walking across the room to the princess. His heart pounding in his chest, unsure how he would get the words out as he approached the woman he was once (still is) in love with and offered her a nervous smile. “It’s nice to see you here.” ‘Really? That’s what you came up with? After all this time? Such a tool.’ He cursed at himself. “You look good.”
