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It had finally happened.His Royal Highness, Prince Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor of Wales had finally had one of his worst bad days to date. And it just so happened to be during the Rio fucking Olympics.What didn’t help was that the trip itself was utterly exhausting, with the flight there being over twelve hours long, but Henry was no stranger to keeping himself entertained throughout the trip by reading or journaling. He’d been to so many conferences and grand openings and speeches that he’d found ways to keep his mind occupied; especially since the rest of his family seemed to be nestled in quite easily to their royal positions amidst the crowds.He didn’t mind, though; he would rather observe. Far fewer expectations that way.Henry was told about the August trip about a month in advance like he normally was when it came to royal business. Shaan Srivastava, Henry’s royal equerry and decently close friend within Kensington Palace, always made an effort to tell him about trips as soon as he knew about them.But even with that extra preparation time for such a significant appearance, Henry still felt incredibly unprepared. He had a job to do, and he wasn’t ready in the slightest. And frankly, he was already beginning to struggle for air in a whirlpool of his thoughts, swimming without direction. He knew he wouldn’t last long; only a matter of time until the air ran out.Sitting in one of the royal family’s cars was always suffocating to him. Everyone outside was always staring in, trying to get a glimpse of their prince, the Prince of England’s hearts. People were so enamored with him and his family, and they had been his whole life. And yet, he still hadn’t adjusted to it. Millions of eyes watching his every move since the moment he was born was something he could never grapple with.He stared out the window of the car once they had left the hotel that the royal family had been set in for their trip. Whenever they traveled for events like this, the family was put into a high-end hotel for the time they were in the region and their driver took them wherever they needed to go.Henry didn’t see the point of it all, all the traveling, or why he had to be there for it. He’s been attending events like this his whole life, however, so it was something he had grown up thinking was normal.The entire drive to the arena, Henry ran over the conversation points he practiced in his mind, his rehearsed greetings, answers to any questions that were asked of him; any possible thing that could happen was something that he had spent hours preparing for.It was easier for him to keep up his royal appearance when he could manage to shut his mind off and answer with rehearsed responses, as if it was easier to exist when he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t.Everyone wanted the Prince, that was all.He hadn’t even noticed he had begun to fidget with his identification lanyard he had to wear as he stared out the window, tugging it away from his neck as if it were too tight, until his older brother, Philip, tugged his hand away from it. Henry glanced over at him with confusion and slight anger, only to see his brother rolling his eyes and adjusting his own posture.“Honestly, Henry. Pull yourself together; this is no time for your nonsense. Arthur may have entertained it, but I will not.”To say Henry was furious was an understatement. He rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat to quite dramatically nudge his brother’s shoulder. If one had asked him, he would’ve said it was entirely on accident.“Don’t call him that, he’s your father too. Whether you liked him or not,” Henry sneered at him. His brother had always expressed contempt toward their father; he never understood it. Arthur Fox meant everything to Henry, even in his absence.The rest of the car ride to the event was relatively silent, with occasional ‘don’t touch me’ and ‘shut up’ comments thrown between the two. Despite being blood relatives and growing up in the same household, Philip Mountchristen and Henry Fox could not be more opposite.Once they arrived, Henry’s equerry, Shaan got out of the car before him and opened his door for him. Henry stepped out and adjusted his suit jacket before immediately being blinded by flashes from multiple cameras and deafened by yells from paparazzi telling him where to look. He simply lifted a hand in a sort of wave, flashing a smile before he was ushered inside.Passing through the crowds of guests for events like this was always entertaining. Other royal families, officials, leaders, and competitors’ families from all over the world filed into the massive arena where this night of competition would be held. Upon entering, Henry was forcibly reminded just how disorienting big gatherings of people like this were for him.He could only decipher glimpses of whatever was happening around him as he tried to catch the breath that quickly fleeted from his lungs; blinding, flashing lights, the uproar of hundreds of voices speaking at once, the announcements over the speakers, and suddenly he felt lost. It was like he was a child again, lost within a crowd and desperately searching for his father's hand to hold onto. But he was an adult now, and the hand was gone. He was constantly and painfully aware of the loss of that hand in the dark, seeing as his father had died a little over a year before. So, to calm his nerves the best he could, he did the only thing he could think of.Henry began to graze his fingers over the gold signet ring on his left pinky finger, tracing over the ornate H engraved on it. It was a habit he’d adopted recently, twisting the ring and following over the marks of it. It was a gift from his father, the only thing Arthur Fox could give his son before he passed that wasn’t attached to his own name.Before Henry even had the chance to gather his thoughts, he was being forcefully dragged to the side by the Crown Prince of Wales, unfortunately, his brother Philip. Henry despised how normal Philip appeared to be acting; it was sickening to witness.“What are you doing?”, Philip angrily whispered to him, shooting a quick glare at him before looking around and flashing smiles at people who had noticed their swift departure from the crowd. If there was one thing Philip excelled at, it was putting on a picture-perfect act of normalcy. It drove Henry insane. “You’re off in your own little world, and we need you focused. We’re not here for fun, we’re here for appearances and statements, that is all. And you’re somehow incapable of even doing that!”Henry scoffed at the comments, adjusting his suit jacket and brushing Philip’s hand off of him with a level of disgust that wasn’t really necessary but he felt was appropriate. “I’m doing exactly what’s asked of me. Everything is fine, you’re the one causing distractions here, Pip.” He knew the use of his brother’s childhood nickname was a bit too much by how Philip rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. What he was not prepared for, though, was the response it elicited.“You, Henry, are going to get your act together. Put on a smile, force it if you must, and act like you are having a damned good time. Overcompensate, it’ll make up for the fact that Beatrice has her nose too far in… other affairs to make an appearance.” Philip shrugged as he adjusted the cufflinks on his sleeves to purposely avoid looking at Henry, who was now fuming.Immediately, a million thoughts hit Henry at once, like slamming full speed into a brick wall that he didn’t even see coming. That mention of his sister, Beatrice, had him furious. Philip knew all too well that Beatrice had recently been admitted to a rehabilitation center, and that’s why she hadn’t attended the event. Hell, he was the one who had forced her to get treated in the first place. Philip stood a bit straighter than necessary and adjusted his tie, basically resetting himself, before turning back to Henry with a glare that was a bit too familiar. Henry knew that look. Philip had been sending him that horrible look of judgemental disgust his whole life. He despised how much it got under his skin, leaving him there seething as that single expression filled him with shame, guilt, and most importantly, anger.With the whirlwind of all of these thoughts swarming in his mind, Henry was moving before he had the time to notice. He took a charged step towards Philip, fists balled so tight that his nails dug into his palms, but he didn’t give the pain the faintest amount of attention. He was angry, too angry, and he knew that.As he moved, all those thoughts came rushing faster through his mind. It was Philip who had gotten Bea admitted, not for her sake, but for his own. He cared solely about the royal image; having an addict for a sister simply didn’t fit. Nothing was ever enough for Philip, or anyone else. Henry raised his hand to grab him by the shoulder before stopping when a heavy hand grabbed his wrist, making him turn to face who it belonged to.Shaan took Henry by the wrist and pulled him back slightly, sending a dirty look to Philip who was watching his brother with thinly veiled disgust. Henry paused in surprise from being grabbed in such a way; it was almost as if his status was forgotten and he was just a man arguing with his brother. It was almost refreshing.His equerry cleared his throat as he let go of him, keeping his eyes focused on a clipboard in his hand before glancing between the two brothers with an arched brow. “Your Royal Highnesses, it’s been brought to my attention that there was a slight… dispute between you two. I’m assuming all is well, given that you have some prior responsibilities to attend to. Prince Philip, with all due respect, please refrain from antagonizing your brother. At least, until we return to London.”Henry forced himself to hold back a laugh from how direct Shaan was with Philip as he adjusted his sleeve, using the opportunity to step back and collect his thoughts. He was still furious with his brother, something he would be sure to resolve once they were out of the public eye, but this would have to do for the time being. Glancing around the arena, Henry was suddenly extremely aware again of how many people were there with him, with a few of them sending a look his way in passing from the commotion.There was a brief pause before Shaan outstretched his hand again and placed it on Henry’s shoulder, more gently this time, making him face him head-on as he continued to look over his clipboard. He seemed to be looking for something, another note or discarded fact sheet on a random attendee, but he appeared to find it decently fast seeing that he began nodding and dragging Henry into the crowd.He gave no thought to the fact that he had left Philip; he appeared to be a man on a mission.“Hm… The American presidential candidate and her family should be arriving now. Your Royal Highness, you are to meet them, make a good impression, all of that business, alright?”Henry sighed in disapproval at the instructions and the forced movement but nodded along anyway. He knew he was here to meet people, provide a good impression of the royal family, and make friends, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. As long as he played nice and put on a smile, everything was going to go according to plan. Well, it was supposed to, anyway.He turned to see what he presumed was the American family making his way toward him. There was a tall, blonde woman that Henry recognized as Presidential Candidate Ellen Claremont, followed by the Texas senator and her current husband, Oscar Diaz. The next three people were some that Henry didn’t recognize.There was a young woman who looked as though she was around the same age as himself, around possibly seventeen or eighteen, if not a bit older, chatting with the family as she walked. She seemed to carry herself with a particular air of confidence that closely rivaled the one Henry had pretended to possess, making him wonder exactly how she was able to hold onto it so well when he seemed to be gasping for air as he stood amidst the crowd.Her arm was laced with another girl about her age, seemingly quieter than the group she traveled with; despite that, every time she opened her mouth to say something, the girl beside her broke out into chuckles. Henry was almost jealous of the friendship between the two, until his focus was pulled away rather roughly.The other unrecognized person caught Henry’s eye, and he instantly wished that he hadn’t. In front of him in the crowd stood a young man also appearing to be around his age, with stupidly perfect dark curls that managed to lay across his forehead as if they were expertly placed that very morning. His smile was bright and infectious, as was his laugh when the young women beside him would whisper a small comment to him or nudge his arm, and Henry nearly felt ill. He watched, entranced, as the man’s eyes scanned the scene before himself before landing on Henry.Those eyes, Henry thought, were going to be the death of him.Those warm chocolate-colored eyes, intense and blinding yet simultaneously warm and welcoming, seemed to pull him in, captivate him into staring as long as he could. He got lost in them immediately, surrounded by the light and comfort they provided until he could barely think of anything else.Once Henry was fully submerged, the man finally approached him, still dawning that wildly bright smile, and he was right back on earth again. He knew this would be an issue simply because he could barely keep his eyes away, struggling to ignore just how well the young man’s suit, albeit slightly unbuttoned which Henry also noted, fit against his tan skin. He had even begun to fidget with his ring while lost in his thoughts, but he immediately tore his hands apart and folded them behind his back once he noticed.Thinking it over momentarily, he leaned in slightly closer to Shaan, whispering to him without breaking his gaze on the family.“Shaan, can you… Can you please get rid of him? I can’t do this, not today,” Henry muttered, wringing his hands behind his back as he impatiently waited for a response. He was desperate to get rid of this distraction placed in front of him; he could not risk embarrassing himself or anyone else and damaging his reputation just for some silly teenage fantasy.Either way, it was simply unbecoming of royalty to even think about things like that, and Henry was painfully aware of that harsh truth. So, he opted to nip the issue in the bud altogether.Shaan glanced up from his notes upon hearing the question, taking quick looks between Henry and the young man in question before he eventually managed to piece the situation together. He sighed in exhaustion and folded his clipboard under his arm as he began to massage the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Your Highness, I… hate to inform you that I cannot simply ‘get rid’ of the potential First Son of the United States. If he poses a threat or if there is a serious reason for his removal, then by all means, inform me or other staff.”Henry almost felt silly for asking as he leaned away from Shaan upon hearing his response. Of course, they couldn’t just remove him, there was no justifiable reason to do so besides the fact that he was incredibly distracting to Henry alone. With that, he decided that his only option was to manage it on his own the best he could, which meant putting as much distance between the two of them as possible.Before he could continue his train of thought about his predicament, he was ushered by photographers to stand next to the Presidential Candidate, whom he had not even had the pleasure of meeting yet. He stood at her side with a perfected, almost rigid posture, taking her hand in his own and flashing an incredibly rehearsed smile as the cacophony of voices and camera shutters sounded around them. “Ma’am, what a pleasure it is, truly. Prince Henry; we send our best wishes to your election candidacy from the palace; it is an honor to finally meet you.”The woman opposite him flashed a smile that seemed wildly more genuine than his own which caused a slight pit to settle deep in his stomach. Even her tone of voice, light and uplifting with an obvious Southern inflection, made it seem as though she was truly happy to be there, something Henry couldn’t dream of understanding. “Oh, thank you, Your Royal Highness. It’s so nice to have people be so kind for one of our first official appearances together, it’s certainly been helpful for me and my family.”They stood holding hands next to each other long enough for the photographers to get what they needed, which felt as if it took ages. When they parted, Henry cleared his throat and turned to shake hands with the woman’s husband, resulting in the cameras continuing their incessant clicking and shuttering around them. He stood in his designated space, reciting his lines and keeping his perfected smile as long as he was in front of the camera.During his introduction to the family, he learned that the young woman he saw was June Claremont-Diaz, Ellen’s daughter, and her friend was Nora Holleran, granddaughter of Vice President Mike Holleran. Even while they held hands in front of the photographers, none of their confidence ever wavered, and Henry felt himself filling with unwarranted envy just watching it. The entire family seemed to be happy; each of them had their roles and interlocking relationships with the others. Henry found himself wondering what that must be like.The final member of the family that he had yet to meet seemed to be Ellen’s son, the one with those ridiculously bright eyes and that captivating smile that made Henry’s head swim. It was simply dreadful to witness.As soon as he had reached the young man, he was hit with the most enthusiastic greeting he had ever received from another political figure. Even this man’s voice was enthralling, but that didn’t mean the words it made were the same.“Prince Henry, Your Majesty, what’s up, man? Wow, you make this stuff look so easy; how do you do this all the time? This is my first time being to something like this, and I’m already dizzy trying to remember everyone. Take it easy on me, yeah? Your brother, man, piece of work. He was civil and all, but wow, did he seem ready to leave. You didn’t piss him off, did you? I’m Alex, by the way, Alex Claremont-Diaz.” The young man, apparently named Alex, held his hand out to Henry with an almost too-enthusiastic smile.Alex appeared to ramble as he introduced himself, yet the prince couldn’t quite place if that was due to nerves or just general excitement. He wasn’t ready to admit to himself that he found it endearing either way.Henry watched in admiration at just how effortlessly pretty Alex Claremont-Diaz was, meticulously observing the way his eyelashes seemed to almost… flutter when he blinked. It was obscene, that Alex didn’t even seem to acknowledge his attractiveness. Even if he did, it wasn’t obvious.Catching himself in his thought, however, he reminded himself that he couldn’t be this easily distracted by him. Fixing up his posture yet again, he looked over Alex’s extended hand in feigned disapproval and let out a sigh. He needed to make it seem as though he hated him for no apparent reason, just for both of their reputations. “Yes, I’ve… heard of your mother’s candidacy. And it’s Your Royal Highness.”Henry took his hand and shook it once, nodding in his general direction before turning to face the cameras. He knew he couldn’t even look at him face-to-face when they were this close, it would be too distracting even now.Despite barely even acknowledging him, just the feeling of Alex’s hand in his own was enough to make the prince lose focus entirely. All he could think about was the weight in his hand, the way they fit almost perfectly together, the feeling of Alex’s hand against the ring on his finger; it all flooded through his mind as he stood in place, all he could think about was the presence beside him and it was slowly driving him mad.He tried to envision how Alex managed to obtain the slight calluses over his palms, possibly from writing or playing a sport, but he wiped that thought from his mind as quickly as it came. If he had any chance at getting through this evening with an unscathed social image, the last thing he should’ve been doing was imagining that man as an athlete.He was close enough now to even smell the cologne that he wore, which he managed to recognize immediately as sandalwood. Though he wasn’t entirely sure about the specific brand or bottle, he made a mental note to look for the exact scent once he returned home.Once the photographers nodded, letting them know they had gotten what they needed, Henry tore his hand away rather quickly, still refusing to even look at the man next to him. The thought of holding onto Alex’s hand any longer made him worry that he would refuse to let go at all, so he needed to run while he had the chance.He was terribly aware that Alex had shot him a confused and possibly offended look out of the corner of his eye from how quickly he pulled away from him, but he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him. If he did, he’d get lost in his outrageously immersive eyes, and there were simply too many people nearby watching him for him to let that happen, not again.So, Henry Fox, Prince of Wales, did what he did best. He ran.Well, it was more of a metaphorical act of running, as if he was stuck in his nightmares where he would be sprinting as hard as his legs could allow but he wouldn’t gain any distance. Screaming, panting, begging, desperately attempting to sprint from some mysterious threat looming behind him, something he didn’t even have the privilege of seeing, and yet he could never seem to make any difference in his position. This was one of those moments; running from a threat he couldn’t see, even if he was wide awake.He ducked his head to avoid the temptation of looking at the man beside him and rushed into the crowd, hoping that being swallowed up by the mob of people would give him just the briefest moment of anonymity, of safety. A fleeting pocket of air for a drowning man.Most people noticed that he was in some sort of rush and cleared the way, except for a few individuals who wanted a photo or an autograph with the famous Prince Henry. They weren’t exactly out of line; many wanted documentation of the young and grieving Prince of Wales. Those types of people were the ones that made Henry resent his status, made him sick with something that felt like fierce, burning rage intertwined with a heavy pit of guilt in the lowest part of his stomach. Either way, he ignored them entirely to avoid having to turn them down as he hastened toward the stands.The apparent millions of seats stretched around the arena and slowly filled with guests ready to watch the games begin. Weaving through the crowds the best he could, Henry had finally escaped to his chair and sat down with a level of relief he couldn’t even place. Even despite being lost in the stands, away from his equerry and his brother and those damn eyelashes, he still maintained a perfect posture and stone expression to not raise suspicion. He couldn’t risk letting his composure slip even slightly; he couldn’t imagine the trouble he’d be in if he did.His brother, however, wasn’t anywhere in the stands that Henry could see. Rather, he was still on the main floor, shaking hands and smiling for photos with the remaining crowd that had gathered on the sidelines. He seemed completely in his element as he chatted with other officials, smiling and even chuckling at some points throughout his conversation. It was effortless for him, to fit in. Always has been, seemed that it always will be.Philip appeared to be a survivor, but in reality, he was an escape artist; he had managed to elude the flaming wreckage of their grief seemingly unscathed while leaving his family shrouded and stained by the ashes, refusing to even turn back and gaze upon the smoke. And Henry had vowed to himself, the day he realized his brother merely viewed him as a broken vase in that fire, haphazardly glued back together, shards unfitting and edges ragged, that he would never allow himself to burn on display again.The sound of the text ringtone coming from his phone forcibly tore Henry out of his thoughts. It had made him jump, even while he was in a packed arena surrounded by noises. Fishing the phone out of his pocket, he unlocked it and checked his texts, only to be met by a very enthusiastic message from his best friend, Percy.Percy Okonjo had been his best friend since boarding school, and he knew how to make Henry laugh. Even, and especially, when he didn’t feel like he could anymore. He was even around for Arthur’s passing, while Henry was struggling to allow himself to grieve without staring into a camera, and he stayed. The only person Henry trusted that wasn’t blood, and he stayed.Pez: ‘hey mate, saw u on insta at those games, meet any hot blokes yet? get some numbers for me <3’The text did make him chuckle, he would admit. His mind immediately went to Alex, those captivating eyes, his wide smile, his stupid amount of excitement when he spoke. For a moment, he thought he caught himself smiling at the thought. He cleared his throat and sat up, immediately typing out a quick message to send back.Henry: ‘Nice to hear from you too, Pez, I’m having a truly wonderful time as always, thanks for asking. If I find anyone that I think would catch your eye, you’ll be the first to know.’That flashing line to continue the conversation stared at him for a second before he continued. He knew he could open up to Pez; he trusted him enough to be more vulnerable with him than he did with the majority of his own family. So, he sent another message.Henry: ‘Wish you were here, mate, Pip’s off doing fuck all and I’m already hiding in the stands by myself. I’ll be sure to send you updates when I can.’He sighed and pocketed his phone again. Pez knew almost everything when it came to Henry’s family, even if the crown hated him for it. Henry never cared, though, Pez was worth more to him than the worth of royalty.Teams of rhythmic gymnasts began to set up to compete on the floor of the main arena which finally got him to pay attention, gathering their props and lining up in order of which would perform first and so on. Henry settled back in his seat and let out a relaxed sigh as he continued to fidget with the ring; he had to enjoy the fact that he could finally breathe for the first time since he arrived, finally being on his own. Albeit, momentarily.The sound of hushed chaos beside him was what got his attention first. Henry turned to his left to look down the stands only to be bombarded with the sight of Alex yet again, awkwardly trying to maneuver his long legs to walk down the row of seats past all of the people sitting there. Tripping over people’s feet and bags, apologizing profusely the entire time as he tried to stay standing, Alex glanced up at Henry and flashed that blinding smile, despite actively stepping on a woman’s purse. Of course, this had to be the man that caught Henry’s attention.Henry was truly, madly, deeply in trouble.“Oh, sh- sorry, ma’am, my bad! Ooh, Burberry? I could tell, you have good taste!” Alex nodded as he picked the bag up off the ground, quickly examining it before he handed it back to the woman in her chair with a wink.Henry thought back to their interaction earlier, the way he felt that Alex was unaware of his beauty. He was incorrect about him, but not entirely. Alex was aware of his appearance, but he somehow didn’t come off as vain. He wasn’t using his looks to his advantage; he simply possessed them, which made it even worse that Henry was already deeply obsessed with them.Alex had finally gotten past the labyrinth of obstacles in his way and plopped down beside Henry, who was visibly perplexed. The prince turned to search the nearby seats for the rest of the candidate family, only to find them sat a few rows above them, earning a wave from June and Nora. He examined them in confusion before turning back around, staring at Alex in appalled uncertainty. Why in the world would Alex sit beside him rather than his family, especially during his first appearance?Anxiously rubbing his palms on his knees, Alex stared excitedly at the main arena floor. By the look of him, Henry assumed he was about ready to explode, though he couldn’t exactly read what was happening quite yet. He just opted to ignore it so he wouldn’t get himself into more of a crisis than he was already in.“This is so cool… I’ve never had the chance to see this live and up close like this, just at home. This one’s my favorite, the gymnasts. Do you have a favorite sport here?” Alex turned to the prince, who was glaring false daggers straight ahead of him, pretending to only focus on the athletes. Henry knew he was most likely upsetting the other man by not responding or even acknowledging him, but there was nothing he could do about it; it was for the greater good. To keep Alex safe, even if he wasn’t entirely sure who it was that he was protecting more.As the games started, Alex got increasingly more excited, and Henry got increasingly more agitated. He longed to be anywhere but here; being hounded by cameras and reporters, and the added sting of having to be sat next to possibly the prettiest man he’d ever seen without being able to do anything about it, was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. Torturous, but necessary.Henry finally took the risk of tearing his eyes off the arena floor to gaze over at the man next to him, whom he hadn’t gotten a proper look at since he sat down. Admittedly, he was a bit afraid that Alex would snap at him for being so insolent, even if he had willingly sat next to him.He turned just slightly to catch him out of the corner of his eye, following his movements as Alex watched the teams intently on the floor. He seemed genuinely thrilled to be there, which Henry couldn’t fully understand. To him, this was just another event, until Alex. And to Alex, this meant everything at this moment, until being met with the harsh cold front that was Henry Fox.While sneaking glances over at the man beside him, Henry spotted a rather serious-looking woman with a clipboard that matched Shaan’s making her way over to them. His mind immediately started to spiral, questioning if she was another reporter or possibly even a Secret Service agent of some kind. Maybe someone had noticed him staring at Alex, gotten into his head and read all of the thoughts he had about him. How he thought about his eyes, his hair, those callused and warm hands of his. Or they had gotten ahold of his messages or talked to Pez or Bea, figured out that he was queer and sent someone to escort him out to handle the situation away from the public.He felt his breathing quicken slightly as he balled his hands up into fists in his lap, rubbing his thumb against the side of his ring to give himself a little peace of mind. When he got like this, feeling like his heart was about to implode, the only thing he knew how to do was wait it out and pray for it to be over soon.The woman walked through the aisle as Henry struggled to pull himself together, watching as she stepped over the obstacles in her way with a precision that was, needless to say, incredibly unmatched by Alex previously. She stood in place beside Alex, who still had not even noticed her presence from how focused he was on the competition in front of him. She eventually cleared her throat, finally getting his attention off of the players.“Alex, why are you over here? You’re supposed to be with the rest of the family; it looks bad when you separate. People think something’s wrong.” The woman shook her head as she checked her clipboard before she looked back down at Alex, eyebrow raised in suspicion and slight annoyance. Alex lightly scoffed at a loss for words, which got Henry to look up at the both of them again.“It’s fine, Zahra, I’m just sitting with my friend! You’ve met the Prince, Henry, right?” Alex smiled as he spoke; Henry could tell just by the way that his voice was slightly more elevated and airy. He hated that he could tell the difference in facial expression merely based on his tone. Not that he was focused on it.The woman, who was supposedly named Zahra, perked up her eyebrow slightly higher from the response and leaned a bit to the side to get a better look at Henry, who felt like she was staring directly through him to see what made him tick. Based on that expression alone, he felt she had him already figured out. The most terrifying thing that had happened so far was being read so easily by someone he had never met.She cleared her throat and checked her clipboard again. She seemed oddly fond of that clipboard, clutching it to her chest with an odd proclivity to keep it slightly hidden from passing attendants, but Henry couldn’t judge; so was Shaan. “Fine, I’ve already spoken to his equerry about other business, and he seemed to be sensible enough for all of you. Just… Alex, don’t cause any high-class issues that I have to clean up, and you can sit with whatever little pals you want, deal?”Alex scoffed yet again and rolled his eyes, flippantly waving his hand as he sat back in his seat and crossed his ankle over his knee. To say Henry was appalled at the interaction was an understatement. “Oh, whatever, I won’t do anything! I’m just going to sit here and enjoy the games, promise!”Henry observed the conversation in silent shock. He wasn’t even entirely sure of the woman’s rank, but she appeared to have enough authority to direct orders to the man beside him. Either way, he wouldn’t dare talk to a supposed authority figure this casually, especially in public. Sure, he was acquaintances with Shaan, but he never spoke to him that way outside the walls of Kensington Palace. In front of the public eye, Shaan is his equerry, and that was all.No matter how he felt about it, however, Alex seemed to be able to treat events like this as vacations rather than obligations. Henry may not have understood it, but that wasn’t his job. His job was to mind his business, pretend like he didn’t notice, or even care. So that’s what he was going to do.Zahra stood up a bit straighter and sighed in reluctant agreement. She ended up in this situation quite often, Henry deduced, begrudgingly allowing Alex to do as he pleased as long as he kept himself and the family out of trouble. He couldn’t even blame her; he saw how it was difficult to deny Alex’s charm. “Hm… Fine. I’ll be with the rest of the family, stay out of trouble.”The crowd seemed to split in the aisle as she turned on her heel and walked off to sit with the presidential candidate and her family. Zahra carried the same air of confidence that June possessed, which Henry could also feel emanating from the rest of the family simply by being around them. It was electric, almost nauseating, how well that family played off of each other’s energy. The prince could never imagine experiencing that within his own family.The man beside Henry seemed to relax when Zahra left, noticeably settling into the seat that he was in as he focused back on the games. Henry already had a million questions, all of which would be unanswered. His facade of being the rude, nonconversational, entitled prince was the only thing keeping him from jumping on the opportunity to get to know Alex as deeply as he could, and that was for his own good. If he initiated a friendship, what was stopping him from taking that further? He made a point to not let his mind wander to that; it was best to let hypotheticals remain as such.He got forced out of his own mind by a nudge to his shoulder. He turned to Alex, who was simply beaming. God, that stupid smile.“Sorry about her, that’s Zahra. Been workin’ with Ma for years, she’s been around since I was, like, five. Deputy Chief of Staff or something official. She keeps me out of trouble, for the most part.” Alex shrugged, loosely using his hands as he spoke. Henry found it charming, but he was still unsure as to why Alex was opening up to him even slightly, let alone talking to him in the first place. He just nodded in response; he couldn’t give him much more than that. Not now.Alex sat up slightly in his seat and adjusted his suit jacket despite it being settled against his shoulders nearly perfectly. Henry immediately noticed just how well Alex’s clothes had been tailored, how they hugged him perfectly and sat against his skin as if they were part of him. The sight ate at him, almost made him jealous.He hated that he was envious of a dress shirt.Peripheral vision has never come in handy so well. Henry was able to steal small looks at Alex beside him while remaining as uninterested as he could muster; it was perfect. That was until the American seemed to get bored and began speaking again.“Look, I know this kinda stuff isn’t easy. Events like this, all these people, it’s easy to get overwhelmed.” Alex had sat up now, shifting his body in his seat to face Henry easier, who was still actively pretending to ignore him. He didn’t like where this seemed to be going. “And… I heard about your dad a while back, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I saw some of his old eighties movies, like his James Bond ones, and I always thought he seemed like such a good guy. I haven’t lost someone like that, so I don’t know what it’s like, but I just-”Alex was promptly cut off when Henry snapped his head to face him. He was fuming as soon as he heard the mention of his father. How dare Alex bring Arthur up to him? All of the anxiety, anger, and pain bubbled in his chest; he couldn’t handle this. He knew he couldn’t handle this from the moment he saw Alex, and he was right.He had to get out of there before he lost his footing, before he fell off the cliff he’d been teetering on the edge of for years.His feet were moving before he had the awareness to think about it. The people in his aisle cleared space for him from how much of a rush he was in, and he couldn’t even utter thanks to them for it in his haste. His tie was strangling him, the tag in his dress shirt made him want to claw into his neck to get rid of the itchy texture, his shoes were too tight; he could barely breathe.The stairs of the stands were cleared in an instant as he got to the main floor of the arena, lightheaded and near tears.How embarrassing.All he could think about was his father, and Alex. Damned Alex Claremont-Diaz. He was beginning to wonder if his hatred towards him was still fabricated or if it had a slight validity now. He had to get as far away from him as physically possible.He dodged his way through the crowd to try and escape, occasionally knocking into other people’s shoulders from how distracted he was. Heads turned and aggravated voices spoke up, but he was completely unphased by it. He knew he should’ve been, especially with how he was supposed to be keeping up appearances, but he felt his lungs starting to strain and ache from dwindling air, so he had other things to be concerned with.The collar of his shirt seemed to be tightening by the second. A door. He needed a door.In his rush to get out of the arena, he managed to spot Shaan speaking to another official he didn’t recognize across the crowd. After this many events, all the faces tended to bleed together. He figured he should at least let his equerry know that he was leaving; the last thing he needed was Olympic and royal security thinking he was missing. Too much attention.But then his eyes flashed toward the stands and immediately landed on Alex, distraught and looking side to side as if to locate him. He couldn’t stay any longer; Alex looked as though his seat was on fire, and he would simply light aflame if he didn’t move out of it.Henry seized his phone out of his pocket once again. He decided to simply send Shaan a message to explain why he had disappeared; he couldn’t dream of making it through a crowd like this anyway.He typed out a quick and apologetic message to his equerry as he beelined past the crowd to the main doors. The only thing on his mind was getting out; it was difficult to write out a coherent text with how loud his panic was in his mind.HRH: Shaan, I have decided to return to my hotel given that I have already handled the press. If you require my attendance, feel free to refer to Philip.Putting the pressure entirely on his brother wasn’t a problem for him at all; he didn’t care what he had to say about it. He’s had about enough.Henry immediately pocketed his phone once he was out the doors, grateful for the dispersal of the majority of paparazzi as he rushed out to the car. He was flushed, he knew that, with his hair a bit askew and his hands trembly, but he figured that if he could just make it to the car, this would all stop. If he could just get to the car, this would all be over and he’d reach air, safety, that hand in the crowd.The door was unlocked before he even got there; his driver must’ve seen his urgency. He swung the door open and climbed in, settling into his seat and quickly shutting his door after himself as the press continued to hound him from outside. The incessant flash and overlapping questions were already adding to his oncoming migraine. He instructed the driver to return to the hotel as he sat back in his seat and adjusted his suit jacket. If he could just get to the hotel, this would all be over.Driving back to the hotel was silent. The royal chauffeur was never one for talking, not that he was either. He appreciated the quiet more than he could express; if he had to answer one more question, he was convinced his chest would cave in.As soon as he arrived at his hotel, Henry threw the door open and climbed out of the car, clutching his phone like a lifeline. There were staggered photographers remaining outside of the building; the majority of them had left to get shots of the celebrities attending the games. It seemed as though the instant he shut the door and stepped foot to the concrete of the sidewalk, they flocked to him, each trying to get their signature shot of the heartbroken prince.He pushed himself past them the best he could with curt apologies; all he cared about was getting to his room, and then everything would stop.Getting inside the hotel felt like immediate relief. He raised his hand slightly to greet the person behind the front desk as he made a sharp escape to the elevator.All of the air felt like it had been restricted from his lungs, but in a different way than before. Earlier, it was crowding and claustrophobic, a sharp clawing of pain within his chest that wouldn’t ease up, drawing up blood. Now, however, it felt more like an ache, the remnants of a wound that never healed.He was used to both pains; aching had become a comforting constant. If he could count on nothing else, he knew he could count on suffering.He rushed inside the elevator and immediately pressed the button to his floor. The tie around his neck was strangling him by the second, so he just opted to remove it entirely, loosening it and pulling it over his head before shoving it in his jacket pocket.This was simply ridiculous, he thought, hiding from the paparazzi and pretty American boys like this. He knew he could handle it all if he just ignored that deep pain in his chest, that painful tugging on his ribcage that told him being in public like that was a poor idea. Shutting himself off for appearances should’ve been easy, safe; he knew he could do it, if he were stronger. But he wasn’t, so he couldn’t.The ding indicating that he was on his floor could not come fast enough; he felt his shoulders drop drastically in relief once the tone played inside the elevator. He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders back again to perfect his poster. Even in moments like this, he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him as anything but the perfect prince.He stepped out of the elevator once the two doors glided open. It was almost over, he kept telling himself, it was almost over. If he could just make it to the hotel room, it would all be over.Getting to his hotel room felt like an action sequence from one of his father’s James Bond films, where the hallway walls would close in until the very last second. It was suffocating, even though nothing was changing. He was practically out of breath by the time he reached his door; in hindsight, it was obscene to be so terrified of a place with such deplorable wallpaper.The second he got inside, Henry shut and locked the door behind him. The last thing he needed was someone coming into the room without warning. He dropped his coat on the floor, ripping off his identification lanyard and heedlessly tossing it. He didn’t care where it landed, as long as he wasn’t wearing it.Glancing at the bed, he could tell it wasn’t as comfortable or high-quality as his in his Kensington bedroom, but it would have to do.His shoes landed haphazardly beside the bed once he laid down and kicked them off, settling onto his back against the pillows as he fished his phone out of his pocket once more. If he had to endure an afternoon like that, he needed some support. Despite barely being able to get air in his lungs, he still fixed his hair, adjusting it out of his face.The contacts on his phone were barely interesting; everyone assumed that he had countless celebrities listed but he didn’t have anyone that mattered. Except for Pez. He always had Pez.The phone sat on the pillow beside him as he waited for Pez to answer. He could use his camera, but he didn’t want his friend to see him in this state, even though he’d seen him go through far worse. A small tune played once his call was answered, and he felt a slight weight lift off his chest almost instantly.“Oi, mate, I’ve been waiting for your call for ages! Thought you died or somethin’, how are you, Hazza?” Even though he couldn’t see his face, Henry could hear the smile in Pez’s voice. He could always tell when Pez was flashing that winning smile of his; it was a reluctant result of having that smile win him over for years.“Pez, hi! I just got back from the games, sorry, I didn’t check my phone until now. Honestly, mate, it was right hell. You could not imagine the… type of people there.” Henry let out an exasperated sigh. As soon as he began speaking to Pez, all regality in his voice and manner dissipated. He wasn’t the Prince with Pez; he was just Henry. And of course, ‘Just Henry’s mind had already returned back to Alex. Typical.“Oh, yeah? How so? Did you finally listen to me and find yourself a hot new boyfriend? The games aren’t even over for the day yet, you sure work fast,” Pez laughed, and Henry could tell he wasn’t going to get away from this conversation easily.He sat up and ran his hands through his blonde hair to soothe himself, a gentle action that has always made him feel more grounded. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d done it; he felt a great deal better just having his friend there to talk to. Maybe there was some underlying part of him that still needed appeasing. “Look, I… Not exactly. But there was a certain boy…” he starts slow, unsure how Pez will take it. He did not have to wait long for an answer.A very unceremonious shriek came from his speaker, startling him immediately. His friend was never the best at hiding his emotions; Henry loved it. “Haz, you dog! Oh, tell me everything! What was his name? Where’s he from? Did you get a photo? Shit, how hot is he?”Pez rattled off questions faster than Henry could process, which made him chuckle. “Pezzie, Pezzie, calm down. He was a twat, honestly. Followed me around like a lost puppy then brought up my dad to my face, said he liked his movies or something. Like, how dense do you have to be, really?”He sighed and sat up. Even though he hated Alex for being so rude and brazen to his face, he had to admit that he hadn’t stopped thinking about him since they met. And that was proving to be more and more of an issue by the second. “He was rude and inconsiderate and… Dammit, he did have nice eyes, though, I suppose.”Another shriek. Henry was in for it now. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t lost his hearing ages ago. “Nice eyes?! Hen, you can’t be serious! Oh, now I have to know the bloke’s name, spill!”Henry groaned from the reaction and fell back against his pillows, covering his face with his hands. Despite finally being back on solid ground, he was now being rattled around inside a jar like a trapped bug. By his best mate, no less.“Fine, fine! Alex, his name’s Alex. Claremont-Diaz, the son of that… American senator, I believe. Just Google him or something, I’m sure you’ll find him.”Henry hated to admit it, and he wouldn’t say it to Pez’s face lest his ego inflate more, but he adored moments like this. Being no more than a person speaking to his friend about a boy he fancied, with no other expectations or rules. It was liberating to finally have the chains at least loosened, having a little slack to move with, if only for a moment.The shuffling on the other end of the phone, Henry could assume, was Pez grabbing his phone to follow up on the recommended Google search. He sat in anticipatory silence for a few seconds before his thoughts were cut off by an expressive gasp.“Bloody hell… When you said ‘nice’, I thought you were joking! Please, please tell me he pulled that smile on you. Goodness, Haz, if you don’t grab him, I will!” Pez let out a chuckle of disbelief, proceeding to scroll through his phone. Henry could not believe how fast his friend had turned on him.“Oi, you’re supposed to be on my side!”, he exclaimed like a child losing an argument, glaring at his phone beside him. “Do you forget how cruel he is? Yes, he smiled, but that malice in those puppy eyes of his cannot be disregarded here!”“Your argument’s invalid, mate, especially when the guy you’re hating on looks like that. I’m sorry, but I can’t stand for it.” Henry could hear Pez chuckling as he scrolled through the photos he found. He rolled his eyes; no one else was capable of making him feel so seen despite not even seeing his face. Sometimes, like this time, it was being used against him.Pez continued to search through the images he found before sending a select few to Henry for debriefing. “Look at this one, the one with his curls all unkempt, you’re telling me you hate this guy? Come on, Hazza, that’s just unfair.”“You don’t understand, he was… God, he was rude! He was rude, and he was arrogant, and he had this persona of superiority that his whole family carried; it was suffocating. I know Pip is a lot, but good lord.” He groaned, which promptly transformed into a yawn. With how hectic that day had been, Henry barely noticed the exhaustion taking hold of his body once he exited ‘fight or flight’ mode.He often felt worn out after excursions for the crown; they were all the same, in his defense. Photos, handshakes, false smiles, more photos. All he needed to do was stand there and follow the script, but even that got tiresome after a while. He could only put on an act for so long.Luckily, he no longer had to today.Pez’s voice cut through the lull in conversation upon hearing his yawn, almost immediately picking up on his weariness. “Mate, what time is it in Rio? It’s only three hours difference from London, but I’m sure jet lag is hell, innit? You enjoy your fancy hotel, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And hey, get some info on your ‘arrogant’ new boytoy for me! If you don’t, you know I’ll do it myself!”The playful tilt to Pez’s voice was anything but; Henry knew he was being entirely honest. Either way, he was incredibly grateful to have a friend who understood him so well, who saw through him so easily. It was such an immense relief to not have to act like Prince Henry with him.“Yeah, yeah, I know. These games take ages, I’m glad I only have to be here for a few days of it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, and you’re not stealing my boytoy! Well, not mine, I didn’t mean- Shut up, Percy!” He cut himself off from the uproar of laughter on the other end, joining in on it from the absurdity of the statement.Remembering the last time he had laughed like that was nearly impossible, and all because of his best friend an insufferable American. The amount of trouble he had gotten himself into was not lost on the prince in any sense, he just figured it was a tomorrow issue.“Alright, alright, I’m off to bed. Go on and ogle all the other eligible bachelors at the games, I’ll debrief with you again tomorrow. Thank you, Pez, for… everything.” Even though he knew full well Pez was humble enough to not need thanking, he did it anyway. It went without saying, but he was the only thing tethering Henry to real life all these years. Without him, he’d be lost at sea with no hope of ever returning to land again.“Hush, Hazza, and get that beauty sleep of yours. I’ll talk to you bright and early to make sure those designers of yours don’t put you into anything too heinous. Rest well now, tata, my sweet!” Pez made a dramatic kiss noise over the phone speaker before hanging up, leaving Henry alone in his hotel room with the remnants of a smile still etched on his face. What Henry had done to deserve such a friend, he had no clue.He stood to his feet, stretching his arms up over his head before making his way to his suitcase. No matter how tired he was, never sleeping in his suits was a personal rule that he wouldn’t dare break, even now. Picking out his favorite pajamas, a matching navy blue silk set, Henry shed the suit he had been wearing and folded it beside his suitcase.Once he was dressed again, Henry grabbed a small pouch from his suitcase pocket and ventured to the bathroom. Even while he was out on trips or appearances, his skincare routine was something he stuck to in order to keep some sense of normalcy. Routine and tradition were necessary, at least when he had control over it.He carefully took the time to work through his routine, pinning his hair back out of his face as he meticulously ran through each step. Spending time in silence gave him the opportunity to reflect on the day he had just had. Needless to say, he was exhausted. Fighting with his brother was expected, but everything else that had happened that day was not in his mental schedule. And he hated when things didn’t go according to his expectations.After he had finished his procedure, he returned all of his products into the little bag and made his way back into the main room. Despite whatever time it was, he wasn’t sure, he was properly ready for bed. He placed the bag back into his suitcase and began to dig through all the clothes he packed, eventually digging out a small, fluffy teddy bear that he had hidden underneath everything.Jareth, his tan teddy bear named after Bowie’s character in the movie Labyrinth, had been a gift from his father when he was a child. He had normally kept it locked away in the top of his closet, hidden away from the risk of being found or taken. If it had gotten out that the rebellious teen prince had needed a teddy bear to sleep for over a year, he would never be able to run from that.Clutching the bear to his chest, he shut his suitcase and crawled into bed, peeling back the comforter. He lowered himself onto the mattress again and covered himself almost entirely with the blanket, hiding under it almost as a way to keep himself safe. Disappearing into the darkness under the blanket brought a sense of calm that he had been desperate for.Now, he was finally able to let his guard down fully; no one was around this time to see Henry Fox.The grip he held on his bear tightened slightly as he pulled his knees up to his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t need consolation like this. Clinging to a teddy bear, curled up under his blanket like a scared child; it was no way for a prince to behave. But, in this moment, it was the only thing he could think of to decompress after the day he had.Rude, insolent, cold-hearted Prince Henry knew he was still a scared little boy lost without his family, no matter how hard he tried to puff out his chest and pretend he didn’t need any of it. And he hated it.He yawned as he hugged his bear closer to his chest. Sleep had already started to tug at him, and he was fully ready to give in to it, pulling the blanket down a bit to his shoulders. Once he was properly comfortable, he allowed the soft background noise of the hotel and all its occupants to lull him to sleep. The tension he held in his shoulders dissipated for the first time that afternoon, and Henry Fox had finally been allowed to rest.

June, 2015

Henry had been praying. That’s all he’d been doing these days. All he’d really been allowed to do, the only thing he truly had control over. His days looked identical, monotonous, one after the other.Sit. Watch. Wait. Pray. Repeat.He rarely did it in front of his father, even though Arthur had been a religious man himself. Henry thought it a private matter, something someone keeps to themself. It was something hidden, faith. Like a secret, something he didn’t want anyone to know he had. If they knew he had resorted to something as senseless as his religion, maybe they’d think he was weak, that he’d begun to lose hope. He couldn’t admit that. Not to anyone.He sat in his chair beside his father’s bed, the bright fluorescent hospital lights humming tiresomely above him. He had always hated those lights.With his hands clasped firmly together, he leaned forward in his chair to rest his forearms on the edge of the bed on which his father rested. Arthur had been sleeping, to Henry’s relief. That barely seemed to change these days, however; the man was incapable of doing much more than that.The grip he held on his own hands tightened as he ran his eyes over the man before him, trying to recognize any part of his face. Arthur Fox had never been hard for him to find before, his bright eyes and infectious smile acting as a lighthouse for Henry. But as he lay in that bed, fading away before his son's eyes, there was no resemblance to the man he once was. Only the rotten pieces that had yet to be taken.Henry’s face twisted into an ugly grimace as he white-knuckled his hands, shutting his eyes tight and releasing an exasperated sigh. He’d been here every day, since the beginning. Since his father had allowed him to visit. Sometimes, days were easy. Arthur’s energy would be high, they’d laugh and talk for hours, share an ice cream or watch a shared favorite movie of theirs. Those were the days Henry had hoped that his father would be there on the drive home with him.Then, there were days like this. Days when Henry couldn’t tell the difference between life and death in his father’s face, where it looked as though the big bright light was so close, he could practically see it himself. These days were honest. He knew what was happening; he’d known the minute he heard what was wrong. And yet, he had desperately hoped his father would be able to backpedal, take his foot back from one way out of the door, and return to him in one piece.He knew it was no use, but he prayed anyway.If he was being completely honest with himself, Henry never knew how to pray. He’d attended multiple services and events, watched his family close their eyes and bow their heads as if they were born knowing exactly what they were meant to do. But he’d never understood how. He wasn’t sure if he was meant to be asking for something, whether that be for favors or forgiveness. Regardless of his questions, it was all he had left.His gaze shifted up towards the ceiling, glaring daggers into the styrofoam tile. His hands had begun to tremble; whether from his tight grip or his nerves, he could never tell. Breathing had become a chore, with staggered breaths escaping his lungs and the dull ache of dwindling oxygen settling into his chest. He was used to that pain; he had grown up with it. A constant reminder of how even the smallest of tasks was impossible for him.“I hate you,” Henry muttered to the ceiling above him, almost ashamed as the venom of his words stung the back of his throat. He had never said it out loud, but he wasn’t sure how many more opportunities he’d have left to say it again. It was a juvenile insult, something with no thought while simultaneously holding more emotion than Henry knew he was capable of putting into three words.“I hate you for… for all of this.” He began to ramble more freely, shifting his hands from their fisted grip to a more traditional prayer. If his grandmother had seen him now, she would’ve deemed him blasphemous. But he no longer cared; he had stopped trying to impress an entity he didn’t respect ages ago."For what you did, what you’re doing. You’re taking him away from me with… no further thought, no hesitation. And I will not sit here and beg for your forgiveness, or… your generosity. I know I won’t get any.” He had his head lowered now; he doesn’t remember doing it but it felt right. Almost an act of submission, or defeat. Years after this, when he looked back on this very moment, he still was unable to tell the difference. “But even if I’m only whispering to myself, even if you’re not everything everyone says you are, or you don’t exist at all, this is all I have. So I ask of you, desperately, for… one last conversation. That’s all I need. One final-”Henry was cut off by the sound of the doorknob moving. He immediately sat up ramrod straight, forcing his hands to rest on his knees as if to hide his imaginary conversation. The thought of being caught in that position terrified him to his core, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.His brother, Philip, walked into the room, frowning as his eyes raked over them both. He looked almost disappointed; Henry could never tell what his brother felt these days. Henry kept his emotions under lock and key. He was convinced, however, that his brother had none at all. “Oh, I… I thought he was awake, I heard you talking.”“Odd, I wasn’t saying anything. Any news?” Henry asked. He knew his brother would never believe his lie, he never did, but it was easier than admitting he was talking to himself. Despite the number of times he spoke to his father’s sleeping form, airing secrets he never would portray to listening ears, that was his secret. And despite all that, there were things even his father would never hear him say.“No, they’ve just been saying the same thing they’ve been saying all week. His condition’s worse, worse than we thought, and all they’re focused on is making sure he’s comfortable and happy.” Philip heaved a heavy sigh as he sat in the chair beside Henry, taking his coat off and resting it over the armrest. Philip looked worn, like he hadn’t been sleeping, but if he were upset about their circumstances, he didn’t show it. He never did, and Henry feared he never would.He frowned as he settled into his seat. He knew what that meant: the doctors had all stopped trying. ‘Keep him comfortable’, they had said, ‘that’s all we can do.’ Henry wasn’t stupid. They had stopped trying because they knew he wasn’t getting better. He didn’t know how much time his father had left, but he knew it wasn’t long.They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while; there wasn’t much else to do when it was just the two of them. They would sit, and they would watch, and that was all. If Arthur were awake, they’d speak to him, but he wasn’t, so they didn’t. Henry knew that Philip would occasionally talk to Arthur the way he did when they were alone; after everything, that was his father.“So, what do we do now? If he’s not going to wake up, do we just… leave?” Philip finally spoke up. He kept his eyes trained on his father before turning to his brother beside him. He rarely asked Henry what to do; Philip always had an answer to everything, whether his siblings liked it or not.“I don’t know, Pip. Believe it or not, I’ve never dealt with something like this before. Why don’t you use the infinite wisdom you so righteously wield to get us out of this one, hm?” Henry snapped sarcastically, refusing to look at him as he kept his eyes fixed on the corner of the bed in front of him. His eyes burned; he was exhausted and this certainly wasn’t helping.He had an unnecessary temper, he knew that, but he rarely felt bad for snapping at his brother. Almost every time he’d done so, he deserved it.Philip scoffed and rolled his eyes. Henry was sure he was used to his outbursts, but that didn’t make them any more forceful.“Look, just because you can’t handle yourself doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me. Grow up and face this like an adult, Henry.” Philip’s words cut deep; they always did. The prince wasn’t very talkative, but when he was, his words burned and left nasty scars. Maybe that’s where Henry picked it up from.“An adult? Like you? Honestly, Pippy, you and I both know I’d rather jump off the roof of Kensington than be anything like you.” He scoffed, as if that were obvious. It was a bit far, his comment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.Philip scowled at the use of the nickname, something Henry would use when he was purposefully trying to anger his brother. He knew Philip hated it; it was something their parents came up with when he was young. That made it even more impactful.His brother had said worse things to him over the years, things that kept him awake at night, staring into the darkness, wondering if they were true. He had decided that they all were; it made it easier to deal with if he took it all at face value.Silence settled over the room once more, but instead of it being empty and hollow, like a quiet that needed to be filled, it was hostile. One small sound felt as though it would send the entire room into disarray and upheaval. Both brothers sat in their respective seats, seething in their own ways. Henry had his hands gripping his knees like a lifeline, while Philip’s were folded in his lap as if nothing were wrong. It was infuriating.The silence was finally broken after what felt like hours by the sound of coughing coming from Arthur in the hospital bed. Henry immediately looked up, dragging his chair to his father’s bedside and carefully taking his hands in his own.“Dad? Dad, it’s Henry. I’m here, it’s okay,” he rambled as he gripped his hands, holding his breath in anticipation as he kept his eyes locked on his father’s trembling form. Henry’s used to seeing his father sick and weak by now; he had been for months, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t terrifying each time. He examined Arthur’s slightly jaundiced hands, watching how they twitched and trembled in his own.Philip sat up in his chair yet stayed back against the wall the whole time. Henry noticed his brother’s distance, and it infuriated him to his core, but he had better things to worry about. He kept his focus on Arthur, very carefully holding the button on the side of the hospital bed to help his father sit up.Arthur sat up once the bed was adjusted, gripping Henry’s hands as he took a second to examine him. “My boy… You look scared; did I worry you?” His voice was harsh and grainy, and it was clear he was exhausted by the slow pace of his words. It only made his son worry further.“No, it’s okay. I’m fine, Dad, don’t worry about me. How are you feeling?” Henry immediately sat up and cleared his throat to make himself look calm. The last thing he wanted his father to do was worry about him; he wanted him to use whatever energy he had on his recovery.His dad sighed as he reached up with his shaky hand and rested it on Henry’s cheek. The familiar feeling of his father's hand on his face sent a small wave of calmness through him. Despite the callouses and the thinness of his hands, it was still his father. Or, whatever was left of him.“Henry, son, you worry too much. The darkness under your eyes rivals mine, and that’s never good. You need to rest; you’ve been here for far too long. Let your mum handle me; I’m sure she’ll have a few… choice words for you about wearing yourself too thin.” Arthur traced his thumb over his cheek as he spoke, and Henry was nearly driven to tears. Even through terrifying illness, even while losing himself piece by piece, his father was always the one person who knew him better than anyone else.Watching his father waste away in front of him had been terrifying. The beginning weight and appetite loss, the horrific stomach pain that had Arthur doubling over even on good days, the endless days he spent asleep due to the fatigue. He had been sick for months, but Henry never expected it would come to this. From the first time the word ‘cancer’ echoed around his mind, he felt a hole settle into his chest, and every day, it tore wider and wider until it began to consume him.The waiting and the droning days had made him sick to his stomach at first, made him lock himself away in bathrooms for hours on end regularly just from the fear. His throat had gone raw from the crying and the sickness in a matter of days; he’d gone pale and quiet and cold as soon as he had known something was wrong. After a while, it had all gone numb, but there was always that lingering fear in the back of his mind.No matter how adamantly he denied it, there was that sureness, that logic that knew without a doubt that Arthur would never come home. He would never be Arthur Fox again.He merely sighed as he relaxed into his father’s hand. “Mum’s worried sick too, y’know. So is Bea, they should both be on their way here. And Pip… Well, you know Pip.”A raspy chuckle echoed from Arthur’s chest as they both turned towards Philip, who sat up and adjusted his jacket from the new attention. “I’m here, isn’t that enough? The only one who’s been here more often than me is Henry, and he’s here constantly. It’s impossible to be more involved than him; Henry Mountchristen, ever the tryhard. No wonder you’re his favorite.”Henry felt his blood run cold instantly. His heart stopped dead in his chest, his breathing going along with it. The hands that were holding Arthur’s lost their grip as he returned them both to his lap, keeping his eyes locked on his brother. Words caught in his throat, nearly choking him as they dug into his esophagus and brought up the taste of blood on his tongue. He felt as though he’d had shattered glass forced down his throat.He gripped the fabric of his slacks in his fists, taking a deep breath to keep himself level-headed and calm. It didn’t work; it never did. There was no way he was going to take this.The chair had flipped before he knew what was happening. He had climbed over it in his haste, but he wouldn’t even realize that just yet. Henry lunged at his brother, grabbing him by the front of his suit as Philip tried to shove him off. The lack of press that their mother had insisted on had never been more handy.He swung as soon as he grabbed him, his fist colliding heavily with Philip’s cheekbone. Henry had gotten into one or two fights before and he could hold his own relatively easily, what with his polo and yachting strength, but whatever strength he had, Philip had already polished it.Philip had him on the ground in seconds, positioning himself over his legs so Henry couldn’t move. It was one thing to be overshadowed by his brother, but physically being unable to move was a separate problem entirely. He writhed under him to try and free himself as he beat his fists on his chest to try and knock him off.He moved fast, but his brother thought faster. Philip grabbed his wrists with an unexpected force and pinned them to Henry’s chest, locking them over each other so he could hold them with one hand as the other reached to his own cheek to feel over the now-forming bruise.“Let me go! Get off me, Philip, let me go!”, he pleaded as he tried to get free, groaning at his failed attempts.“I will once you’re calm; I’m not going to risk you swinging at me again, Henry.” Philip tightened his grip on Henry’s wrists, and he just slumped under his grasp in defeat as he attempted to catch his breath. He felt weak, small, and still furious, like a toddler who knew no other way to express anger other than crying or throwing things across the room. It was very rarely that he had chosen the latter, but sometimes he felt it necessary.After a few seconds, the grip on Henry’s wrists loosened, and he took the opportunity to finally knock his brother off of him. Philip landed back against the wall as Henry sat up and rolled his wrists. He noticed his now tipped-over chair and carefully sat it upright. Both boys returned to their seats, with Henry’s focus pulling back to his father.“Sorry, dad, he just… God, he’s insufferable,” Henry explained, taking Arthur’s hands again. His father looked tired, more tired than normal, but he tried not to focus on that too much. He knew simple things exhausted him, so there was no reason to panic just yet.Arthur looked up at him as if to respond before descending into another coughing fit. A thin layer of sweat had coated his face, and that panic Henry had told himself was unreasonable had started to come back in full force. His father doubled over slightly with the force of his coughs as his machines all began to beep, and before he knew it, Philip was on his feet and out the door. Coward.“Dad? Dad, hey, it’s me, stay with me, come on,” he began to ramble once again; he had always hated how he did that when he didn’t know what to say. Years from now, he’d wonder if this was what had made him so quiet in the future.He stood to his feet and carefully adjusted Arthur onto his back, positioning the bed to have him more sat up than before. The coughing had slowly subdued, and his father looked as though he was swimming in and out of consciousness as he leaned back against the bed. Henry knew that wasn’t what it was, but it was the only thing he could make himself believe. Doctors had begun to flood the room from the alarm of his monitors, but Henry’s focus hadn’t waivered. It never did with Arthur.“Henry, my boy, focus…” Arthur choked out, taking Henry’s hand again and giving it a weak squeeze. The lack of strength in the action nearly tore his heart in two. “I never thought I’d be doing this so soon. Listen, you are… so, so strong, believe me. And don’t you dare let… anyone take that, you hear? No one, not Pip or your grandmother, not… not the press, not even you. Don’t keep that… beautiful heart of yours locked away in those walls. Find me in Orion, I’ll be there. I always will be.”“Wh-What?”, he stuttered, sitting up in his chair as he grips his hand tighter than he probably should. “Don’t talk like that, don’t, just… Just wait, they’re gonna help, right? You’re going to be just fine, Dad, I promise.” Henry watched with panic as the doctors rushed around his father, starting to do whatever they possibly could to keep him stable. He felt himself being dragged back down into that harsh water he was constantly trying to tread, the surface quickly fading from view as he struggled to get back to safety.Arthur had crashed a few times before, but something was different this time. This time, it felt as though his father knew something he didn’t. He knew this time was worse than the others, something he wouldn’t be able to come back from.Arthur’s face went slack. His jaw fell open, his hands fell from Henry’s grasp, and the high-pitched beepings rang out above all else amidst the hustle of the hospital staff. And Henry? Henry felt like he had finally hit the deepest point of the water.He wasn’t sure who grabbed him first. Somehow, he got to his feet and he’s dragged out of the room as his view of his father is shrouded by doctors and nurses rushing to figure out what’s happened. Once he was in the hallway, the door slammed in his face. He still had yet to catch his breath, let alone process what was happening, before he was pushed to sit into a chair in the hallway, eyes still locked on the door in front of him.Philip stood over him, finally letting go of his arm once he was sat before standing beside his chair. Henry wasn’t sure where he had come from or how long he’d been gone, but his thought process was cut off by the sight of his mother and his sister rushing up to him from the hallway.“What’s going on? Henry, is everything alright?” His older sister, Beatrice, sat down in the chair beside him and took his hand, gripping it tightly as their mother rushed into the hospital room. “Philip met us at the door and dragged us up here; he said you two fought and he wanted to give you time. What’s wrong with Dad?”Henry was pale white, trembling, locked in place. He didn’t respond; he felt as though he’d pass out if he attempted to speak. Everything sounded like television static; it was all unintelligible nonsense blending together. The last face his father had made was plastered in his mind. He tried standing to follow his mother back into the hospital room, but Bea gripped his arm and held him firmly to his seat as if to keep him from completely shattering in the hospital hallway. Henry hadn’t been able to pull his eyes from the door, but he knew the exact worried expression that must’ve been plastered over his sister’s face, having seen it far too many times over the past few months. “Hold on, Hen, stay for a moment. Something’s off… Just stay.”He rigidly settled into his seat regardless, barely processing the words she spoke. The hustle of the doctors eventually dragged to a halt and a faint, long beep rang out from behind the door, causing him to sit up in his chair to focus more on any sounds he could catch. He raced to come up with what that could mean: a pause of relief, a new discovery, shock. Whatever it was, Henry felt sick at the thought. His mind lingered on the worst, wondering if this was truly the last of it all, but he repelled that thought instantly. No matter what happened, he and his father couldn’t possibly be done, surely not so soon.His mother’s screaming was all the confirmation he needed.He was painfully, regrettably, sickeningly incorrect.The next few seconds were a blur. He was unsure when Philip’s hand had made its way to his shoulder, but it felt as though he was holding him in place in his chair. Whether that was to keep him grounded or to keep him from flipping over more furniture, he never knew. The screams never stopped, only transformed. Sobs, pleas, begs, all in his mother’s wretched tone. Her words echoed in his brain, nonsensical prayers never to be answered. It drove him mad.Bea was crumpled in the seat beside him, her body wracking with sobs as she hugged her arms around herself seemingly like she was trying to keep herself together. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening; his sister was destroyed and his brother was stoic. Trying to gauge the situation’s severity at this point was beyond impossible; he needed answers.A doctor he recognized as someone who worked on his father stepped out of the room, looking as though he had just been hit in the face. Henry watched his mouth move, could see his hands and his body language conveying something, but he couldn’t hear him. He blinked and the doctor’s face turned to a blurry mess, his words coming through as muffled nonsense. Confused, he turned to his sister, but she had the same incomprehensible fuzz over her face, muddled sobs echoing around the hallway all around him, consuming him. Then it hit him.He wasn’t here again, in the hospital on that day; this was a dream. Stuck in a memory, forever unchanging. And he needed to get out.

August 2016

Henry sprung awake in a mess of sweat and heavy breaths. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, struggling to remember where or when he was and how he had gotten there. Brazil, Olympics, hotel room, bed. Step by step, he walked himself back to reality, back to where he was meant to be. Right. Arthur was gone. His mother was gone, his sister disappearing along with her. And his brother, ever the nuisance, was right where he’d always been: on top.Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Henry sat up against the headboard and leaned his head back. His chest still heaved with residual panic; whenever he woke up from such a dream, it took him ages to come back to himself. Almost as if he was still halfway in it, stuck without an escape, frozen. Either way, he had to get up.Sitting up was a task; his body felt ten times heavier than it should. Whether that was from exhaustion or nerves, he couldn’t know. Once he heaved himself to his feet, he picked up the teddy bear that had been discarded to the floor in his fit and set it against his pillow. Despite rarely sleeping with it now, it was still deeply important to him, so it deserved to have a safe spot on the bed. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his bag, heading to the bathroom before pausing in place from an attempted turn of the doorknob. Of course, something new.He huffed and set his bag back down in its place, heading over to the door. He figured it was his brother coming to berate him for leaving the event early, but something about the turning of the knob rather than a knock confused him. Unlocking it, he held his hand to the knob just in case, securing it shut.“Pip, if you’re here to lecture, please, do it through the door. Neither of us wishes to deal with the other, so just get it over with.” Henry spoke through the door, only to be met with brief silence.“Your Majesty? What are you doing in my room?”Henry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, lost on who could be on the other side of the door. Who would call him an incorrect title? And who was trying to get into his room? It couldn’t be…Oh.
Oh.
He swung the door open, a perplexed grimace etched into his features. Just as he assumed, Alex. Outside his door, trying to get into his room. Even claiming it was his, the nerve. To his surprise, Alex seemed just as bewildered as he was. “Alex. You must be lost; this is my room.”The man in front of him scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a step back and glancing down the hall as if seeing if anyone else was watching them. His hair was mussed from a long day, his tie loosened and his jacket undone. Henry tried not to give it too much focus. “No, they gave me a card and everything; this is my room. Look, here.” Alex fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulling out his room key and examining it before looking around the hallway. “See, this is… What room number is this?”“Room 406. What does your card say, hm?”, Henry asked, reaching for the card in Alex’s hand before the other man stepped away from him and held the card closer to his chest.“Nothing. Enjoy your night, Your Majesty.” Alex rolled his eyes, looking slightly sheepish despite the attitude, as if he realized a mistake he had made. He turned to leave, and Henry stepped back into his room.“Your Royal Highness thanks you for your visit,” Henry corrected sarcastically, moving to shut the door before a large hand slammed against it and pushed it open.Alex stood directly in front of him, face slightly scrunched in anger as he kept the door pushed open. “What’s your problem? You’ve been a dick since you saw me; are you just an asshole or do you have some kind of vendetta against me, huh?”Henry stumbled back a step from the sudden noise against the door, slowly growing red from embarrassment and anger. “I don’t know what you mean. This event is a very busy few days; maybe it’s time you got back to your own room. And it’s Your Highness, for future reference.”A low, indignant groan sounded from Alex’s throat, and Henry decided it was yet another thing he wasn’t going to be thinking about. That list seemed to be ever-growing, he noticed.“Oh, so you really are just a jerk. God, no wonder you left early; no one could tolerate you long enough to keep you around. Stay the hell away from me, Your Highness, I wouldn’t want to get in your way. Have a great fucking night.” Alex let go of the door, letting it fall behind him as he stormed off down the hallway, leaving Henry in his wake before he had the chance to respond.The prince opened the door just slightly after a few seconds to peer down the hallway, but the other boy was gone. And Henry was alone. Just as it had always been. As it always will be.