Chapter Text
Bright flashing lights and a pumping beat erupted around Wilhelm as the large doors to the club opened before him. Immediately, memories of long nights, writhing bodies, hangovers and the blinding flashes of the paparazzis’ cameras flooded his mind, and he had to take a moment to breathe and gather himself as he stepped past the bouncers at the entrance, nodding gently at them as they bowed their head slightly.
He had smiled and waved at the throng of paparazzi standing outside, snapping pictures of him and yelling questions at him as Malin had ushered him in. He knew exactly what they were yearning for, after all he had been aware of his negative image and the rumors that started to make the rounds after his first scandal. It had become even worse after that day he had been betrayed and laid open for the whole country to see. The Party-Prince, the underage drunkard and druggie, the scandalous Crown Prince, buckling under the pressure of his new role, a failure, an embarrassment. He had since turned over a new leaf and redeemed himself in the eyes of the Crown and the public. And still, every single one of these bloodhounds in front of the club was looking for him to mess up, to relapse and give them new ammunition to put in the tabloids, a new raunchy mess they would too eagerly lap up.
He already knew there would be at least one headline tomorrow, speculating once more about his relationship status. There always was on the rare occasion he went out. After all, when the reformed Party-Prince of Sweden attended a birthday party, it had to mean something, right? Come tomorrow, he and Felice would probably be on the phone, laughing at the numerous articles attempting to link the two of them together. These so called journalists would painstakingly analyze every little interaction the vultures had caught on camera over the last 5 years and comb every single social media post they had made since their - partially short - time at Hillerska for any little information they could get.
It was easy to laugh about it with Felice, a moment’s respite before he had to face the wrath of his mother. He knew full well that she would sternly scold him about fueling the rumors again. Just the thought conjured a mental image for him. Her disapproving glare at him “pulling the media’s strings” and making a fool out of them. Her constant reminders that he needed to think about what his behavior would project for the future, if he wanted the public to think of him as a dishonest and deceitful monarch. Her brash warning that he should not let it get out of control, that he needed to think of the future and how far he was willing to let this go. That he had to one day come clean and confess to the whole country that he had tried to fool them if he wasn’t be willing to make a farce of their honored traditions and marry Felice, despite their “incompatibility”. The latter was a thinly veiled insult towards Felice’s upbringing, the fact that she was only marginally of noble birth (through her mother’s side, not her fathers, which was the whole issue) as well as a Person of Color. While his mother wasn’t racist per se, it just wasn’t “appropriate” for a Swedish Crown Prince to marry someone other than a pretty white girl…
Felice would field the exact reverse on her side, with Smysan Ehrencrona badgering her relentlessly about her apparent relationship with Wilhelm, about when they would make it official and go public, when Wilhelm would finally propose, and how amazing and glamorous their wedding would be. Felice would simply smile and tell her mother that she would be the first to know if there were any wedding bells on the horizon for her and Wilhelm. It wasn’t a lie, but Smysan would be lured into a false sense of security, because there would never be a royal wedding for Felice. Instead, she was already planning a quite private affair for herself and Marcus, her long time boyfriend and now fiancé of almost one year. Wilhelm was incredibly happy for his best friend and her beau, and yet… he wished he could have what they had. A love for themselves, private, secret, but whole.
So it was kind of perfect that the press was so hellbent on painting the two of them as secret lovers, really. Felice could look like she was madly in love all she wanted, and Smysan would just… assume. And Wilhelm didn’t have to answer any questions about his bachelor-status or whether there was anyone special in his life at the moment from the press, representatives or his immediate and distant relatives, because if he just said he didn’t want to comment at this moment, everyone would just… assume. No unwanted suitors, no match making attempts, no girls throwing themselves at him, and if there were any, his rejection could be seen as him simply being faithful instead of not interested at all.
As if to prove the validity of this last thought on his racing mind, he could feel someone grabbing clumsily for his arm. It was a fairly drunk girl he vaguely remembered from one of Felice’s fund raisers, or maybe some kind of charity gala. She was currently hanging from his left arm and batted her eyes at him. “Prince Wilhelm, it’s so great to see you again!” she slurred, giggling uncontrollably. “C’mon, dance with me!”
Wilhelm could see Malin step forward to remove the drunk girl from him, but he just shot her a small glance and a slight head shake. He wouldn’t need her for this. Instead, he focused on the girl and tried hard to give her an apologetic smile, wrecking his brain for a name. “I’m very sorry… Lina,” the girl beamed at him, apparently it was the right name his brain had decided to spit out. “But I just arrived and I haven’t said hello to the birthday girl yet…” he trailed off, hoping that the mere mention of Felice would be enough to get her to back off.
“Oh, yeah, of course, I wouldn’t,” a hiccup before she continued “I wouldn’t want to take you away from her. But later maybe?” She batted her eyes again, full of hope and a slight daze stemming from the amount of alcohol she no doubt already had.
Wilhelm smiled softly, pulling in the air with a slight hiss, tilting his head to the side. “I am terribly sorry, Lina, I am sure you are a lovely girl, but I am afraid I just can’t. I hope you understand?” he tried again, groaning inwardly at the pout that formed on her lips. He was sure she thought it looked endearing, but really, it just looked messy and childish.
“I’m sure Felice wouldn’t mind a little dance, Wille…” she groaned, tugging at his arm.
The use of his private nickname, the one reserved for his family and friends, made him bristle, stand up a little taller and he resolutely removed her hand from his arm. “No, Lina, I will not dance with you. You are drunk, so please drink some water and get some fresh air. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
Wilhelm briskly turned to walk away, closely followed by Malin and Joakim, but as he let his eyes roam the club, he froze, stopped dead in his tracks. Across the room, he found a set of brown eyes he had not seen in person for over five years. And just like that, all of a sudden, he felt 16 again, the familiar tightness in his chest making it hard to breathe as Simon looked at him, his face unreadable.
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The last time Wille saw Simon’s eyes had been when he was ushered away by the school’s psychologist on Parents Day, still only a Prince, only second in line to the Swedish throne. He still remembered the exact view from the steps that day when he had looked over his shoulder, Simon’s confused expression, the excited grin from before replaced by a look of worry.
And the day had started so well. They had been excited and giddy, all smiles after the rocky week they had after their first kiss. After the movie night that sparked a secretive kiss on a windowsill in Manor House, Wille had been scared of what he was feeling, of what it would mean to him, to his family, to the crown… and also in a small part to Simon, because Wille was a public figure, and he didn’t want Simon to be pulled into the scandal that would clearly follow if anyone was ever to find out about whatever it was that was going on between them. So he had ended things before they could begin, suffering the following week because Simon didn’t even so much as look at him.
So when Wille had realized that he just couldn’t stay away from Simon, that his heart felt like it was about to shatter because he had hurt him, and that he needed to give Simon the option to decide for himself if he wanted this, he had approached him with a daring plan. A way to get close again, to maybe repeat what they had done and perhaps even go further, far away from prying eyes, a safe space to explore and learn everything he could about the boy who had stolen Wille’s heart away when he had first heard him sing. And Simon’s smile when Wille took back those hurtful words, the open affection and clear reciprocation of at least Wille’s attraction if not the blossoming feelings he was still scared to put words to, had been enough to make Wille yearn for the day he could take the Latino boy into his arms and kiss him senseless.
So on Parents Day, Wille had beamed proudly at Simon when the choir performed the school song and a few of the best songs in their repertoire. Simon’s voice had soared, and Wille wanted to believe that it may have been because of him, even though it was most likely that it was just that Simon was that good. Even August staying behind for the weekend couldn’t lessen their happiness the next day, stolen moments of quiet conversation, planning to stay in Bjärstad with Simon’s family instead, to celebrate Simon and his talent, their own little private refuge for the weekend. Hyper aware of the possibility of being caught just around the corner of the dining room of Forest Ridge, they had not dared to kiss again, but the urge was there, the tension palpable between them as they started walking towards the exit to head towards the grounds. All they wanted was to take a little stroll through the woods and maybe, just maybe steal away somewhere to sneak a few little kisses.
And as Wille was whisked away to hear the worst news of his life, to learn that his whole world had just turned upside down, he had glanced back at the boy he was falling for, the only one he felt he could be somewhat open with, his best friend except for Erik, worry and confusion etched into these beautiful tan features. Wille would not shake that look from his mind for the next 5 years.
When he returned a few weeks later, now as the Crown Prince, Wilhelm had been dreading the moment he met Simon again. He knew he couldn’t be with Simon anymore, couldn’t keep exploring and learning who he was and what he wanted at his own pace. He couldn’t risk the scandal, his image and lineage now more important than ever before. A few weeks ago, he had been the spare, a branch on the family tree that no one would care if it stayed bare, a footnote in the history books, barely worth a mention. But now, he was the future King of Sweden, the future of the Crown and his family. He was the one to carry the legacy. How could he possibly fill the shoes Erik had left behind and be himself?
So Wilhelm had been planning for a few days on what to say to Simon. The Latino had texted him the first two weeks, but he had not yet replied to those messages, hadn’t been able to. He knew exactly what he would have to tell him. It would be a clean break, no more contact, no more kisses or flirting. They had only kissed once, after all, they could just forget it ever happened and go on to live their own lives, separate, no more than strangers. Just two ships passing int he night, crossing paths on the vast oceans for a short moment during one lonely night.
His plans would not come to fruition that day. When the choir performed, Wilhelm was surprised to see it was another boy singing the solos. There was no sign of Simon anywhere in the choir. Wilhelm could barely listen to the song, worrying his lip between his teeth. He was nervous for the other boy. What could possibly have happened for Simon to be pulled from the choir? Much too soon, it was time for him to get up and hold a little speech the palace had prepared for him.
As he stood in front of the whole school, Wilhelm’s eyes were searching the room, worried about Simon despite his earlier resolve to forget about the curly haired angel and bury his feelings deep down in some dark crevasse not even he himself would be able to access. Where was Simon? Had he fallen sick, had something terrible happened? No matter how hard he looked, there was no telltale sign of the dark curls, just the expectant eyes of August, the soft glance of Felice, the lowered eyes of Sara. Sara! She would be able to tell him where Simon was!
Wilhelm got through the speech with trembling hands and quivering voice, abandoning the official pre-written text halfway through, instead opening himself up a little, speaking from his heart about what his brother had meant to him and how it would shape his future. He had felt vulnerable, exposed even, but it just felt right to speak his own mind for once instead of the approved and sterilized version the palace’s PR-Team had come up with. Stella and Fredrika were quietly sobbing as he spoke about wanting to make Sweden proud of their Crown Prince, holding each other close, and Wilhelm had to avert his eyes, feeling strangely like he was invading their privacy, despite knowing that they had always been quite touchy best friends.
After the speeches and performances were over, Sara and Felice had come up to him. Felice gave him another soft hug, making him feel a little safer and less exposed after he had poured out his heart and soul to the student body. “How come Simon didn’t sing today?” Wilhelm mumbled over her shoulder, biting his lip anxiously. Would they know something was up because he asked about Simon? Could they tell just by this that something had happened between them? How would they react to these news? Were they even news to Sara? She was Simon’s sister after all, and they were quite close.
Sara furrowed her brows at his words, tilting her head slightly. “Why would he?”she asked in her usual no-nonsense way of speaking. At the confused look on Wilhelm’s face, she added “He doesn’t go here anymore.”
Wilhelm felt like the ground was pulled from under his feet. He wasn’t sure if he was able to breathe. “What do you mean, he doesn’t go here anymore?” he choked as he took a step back, out of Felice’s comforting embrace, his throat closing up. Simon was gone, all the things Wilhelm had planned to say, to explain, taken away with these few words.
“He moved to Stockholm”, Felice explained, observing Wilhelm’s reaction carefully.
"Stockholm” he croaked, swallowing thickly, feeling dizzy as his hand reached up to rub soothingly over his chest before he caught himself, instead pushing his hair out of his face. His other hand was balled to a fist, trying hard to keep his thumb away from his teeth. After all, it was unbecoming of the Crown Prince to nibble at his fingernails.
“Yeah, it was easier that way for him and Mamá,” Sara piped up, leaning into Felice who wrapped an arm around her friend.
"What about you, though? They just left you here?” Wilhelm sputtered, still trying to piece the information together. Simon was gone. True, he was only two hours away and yet, he was now unreachable for Wilhelm.
“I board now. Stella’s dad is paying.” Sara shrugged, turning to walk away, seemingly done with the conversation.
And all of a sudden, it all made sense to Wilhelm. The puzzle pieces fit perfectly and he kicked himself that he didn’t connect the dots sooner. He should have seen this development coming, he just didn’t expect it so soon. It didn’t make it hurt any less that he had been out of the loop about such an important development, and that Simon hadn’t felt the need to tell him he wouldn’t be here upon his return.
Later that night, when Wilhelm opened his texts with Simon - those worried messages Simon had sent still staring up at him, unreplied to - he had felt bad for a moment, because maybe Simon had wanted to tell him, but had taken his silence as the rejection it had been. Biting his thumb nail, Wilhelm typed out the words he felt were the most important ones, the ones that he had dreaded saying the most “Hey… I need you to delete all our texts… Sorry.”
It had taken about five minutes of anxiety and feeling terrible about the whole ordeal until Wilhelm’s phone had dinged, and there was only one word from Simon, one that tore Wilhelm’s heart apart. “Done.”
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Wilhelm knew he was still staring, and Malin was muttering under her breath to him to please keep moving as she gently pushed her hand against his back. But he simply couldn’t tear his eyes away from the chiseled features and glossy curls framing them so perfectly, Simon’s unreadable gaze still heavy on him. Wilhelm felt like his heart broke all over again and yet… and yet it strangely also felt like it was mending, butterflies starting to take flight as Simon held the eye-contact, raising an eyebrow slightly before he turned away, pulled back into the conversation with Stella and Fredrika who were practically wrapped around each other, sneaking little kisses as Simon laughed at something they said.
Wilhelm couldn’t take looking at it anymore, tearing his eyes away from something he could never have, instead deciding to go searching for his best friend in the crowd. It wasn’t hard to find her, sat on top of some stairs, overlooking the crowd that had gathered to celebrate her 22nd birthday with her. She was currently laughing loudly at something Sara had whispered into her ear.
Wilhelm weaved his way nimbly through the crowd, glad that most people here were familiar enough with etiquette to let him pass unbothered, only greeting him in passing for courtesy sake. He only had to dodge some drunk girls making a grab for his white shirt twice, but thankfully Malin and Joakim were there to make sure they kept their distance. With a deep sigh, Wille let himself drop next to Felice, slumping very unprincely against her as her fingers started to gently play with his hair. “Who knew it would be so exhausting just getting to you?” he whined, twisting to look up at her, giving her a blinding smile. “Happy birthday, bestie!” he murmured, relaxing as she laughed and pushed his hair out of his face.
“Fucking finally, Wille, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up. What held you up for so long?” she teased, making Sara on her other side giggle softly.
At long last, Wille was able to relax a little, giving Sara a smile. “Hey Sara…” he greeted, before turning his attention to Felice again. “Oh, just the usual, meetings that ran a little late, and then my mother who made sure to mention again how I better not do anything that could be interpreted as some grand romantic gesture today…” This prompted more giggles from the two girls, both well aware that Felice was and would never be interested in Wille that way - not anymore, at least.
“Funny you say that…” Felice blubbered, Sara almost toppling over from laughter. Apparently, Wille had missed some information.
“Why, what’s so funny?” he questioned, sitting up a little to look at the two of them.
“Oh, just that my mother was so giddy with excitement about the possibility of a grand gesture, maybe even a proposal, that she actually ordered photographers to the home for tomorrow… I think she’s planning the press release already.”
Wille groaned, leaning his head against Felice’s shoulder. “Oh great… my mother will let me hear about that for sure, especially because Smysan will probably call her first thing in the morning to chat about our future…”
Felice leaned her head against Wille’s, humming softly. “Don’t worry… I’ll keep her off your back. She won’t be calling anyone tomorrow, except maybe her psychiatrist.” At Wille’s questioning glance, she motioned towards the bottom of the stairs, where Marcus came up with two glasses in his hands, beaming up at the trio.
“Marcus is here? In public?” Wille gasped, looking incredulously at Felice. “But.. I thought you wanted…”
“To keep it private?” She interrupted, nodding softly. “Yeah, but things change, and now I can’t wait to rub it in my mom’s face…” she beamed at her fiancé as he handed her a champagne flute, softly mumbling “here, your water, my love..”
It took a moment for Wilhelm’s brain to catch up, but when it did he gasped, sending Sara and Felice who had looked at him expectantly into a new fit of giggles. “Oh my god, are you… seriously? Oh my god, Felice, I’m so happy for you!” he exclaimed, hugging his friend close. “How long have you known? How far along..?”
“We just found out a couple of days ago, apparently I’m a few weeks along,” she smiled softly, shrugging sheepishly. “Believe me, I was dying to tell you, it was so hard to keep my mouth shut until tonight, but I wanted all of you to find out on the same day...”
The next few minutes were filled with Wille congratulating the happy pair and Felice filling him in to the plan for today. Marcus would publicly propose to her, even though they had been secretly engaged for almost a year now. Stella and Fredrika would “leak” the pictures, making sure it got seen by a wide audience and picked up by the news agencies. The previously assumed secret girlfriend of the Crown prince getting engaged to another man would for sure make the headlines.
Felice shot an apologetic look at Wille as he anxiously bit his lip, all of a sudden quiet. “Hey, I know that you have used the rumors as a shield…” she whispered, softly running her hand over his hair. “But you understand that I-“
“No yeah, of course!” he interjected quickly, smiling at her. “You need to do what’s best for the two- well, three of you.” Felice gave him a happy, soft smile. “Seriously, I am absolutely thrilled for you, and I love the plan. Even though that means its back to fighting off all the wanna-be-princesses for me, I guess…”
Felice shot him a soft look, one that Wille hated and loved at the same time. She seemed to look right into his soul, knowing everything about him and yet leaving him space to feel safe, secure in the knowledge that he didn’t ever need to say anything. It was equally terrifying and comforting when she gave him this look. “Or you could finally start to put yourself out there, meet someone, maybe fall in love?” she offered, careful to avoid pronouns as she had ever since that day he came back to Hillerska.
“You know I can’t…” he whispered, his eyes pleading as he looked at her, letting himself be vulnerable for a moment in the safety of their friendship.
“Yes you can!” she answered, grabbing his face in her hands. “Listen, Wille… you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve love, too! You deserve to be happy. Fuck what the Queen has to say about it! Or anyone else, for that matter.”
Wille could feel the anxiety rise in his chest again, biting his lip and avoiding her gaze. Tears were prickling at his eyes, and he quickly closed them to control himself. “You know it’s not that easy…” he pleaded, shaking his head as much as he could in her grip, which wasn’t a lot.
“Wille… you are safe here…” she whispered, giving him a little wink. “Everyone but the eight of us had to turn in their devices… there are no phones and no cameras here. No one will have any proof of what happens in this venue tonight.”
The eight of us… Wille hesitated for a moment. Felice’s “inner circle” were Marcus, Sara, Maddie and himself. Stella and Fredrika were also trusted, and on top of that they were an integral part of the plan to leak Felice’s and Marcus’s engagement, so of course they had been allowed to keep their phones. Including Felice, that made... “Who’s number eight?” he croaked, his voice raspy with pent up anxiety, a small tug in his guts telling him he knew exactly who was the last one allowed his phone.
“Simon, of course!” Felice confirmed laughingly, giving him a knowing look. “You do know he’s here, right? Have you said hello yet?”
Wille groaned, leaning his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “No….. But our eyes met?”
Felice giggled at that. “And why did you not go up to him then? Are you too scared he might realize you have a royal crush on him?”
And oh, if that didn’t hit the nail on the head.
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“Have you seen his latest post?” Wille was lying on his stomach on Felice’s bed in her Stockholm apartment, legs crossed in the air as he scrolled instagram.
“No, what is it?” she shouted back at him as she put on a moisturizing face mask in the bathroom, only sparing a little glance. Wille had to laugh at her half-done face.
“Apparently, he went to the beach today” Wille offered, shaking his phone at her as she stepped closer to take a look.
Felice clicked her tongue, shooting Wille a scandalous gaze. “And here I was expecting a shirtless pic… he does look gorgeous in that lighting, though!” she conceded, returning to her skincare routine.
“He does, doesn’t he?” Wille mumbled, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. The sunlight brought out the colors in his hair beautifully, the curls framing his face and those kissable lips perfectly. His fingers moved across the picture for a moment, using the private moment when no-one was looking at him to stroke the screen where Simon’s cheek was, before tapping and liking the picture and putting away his phone, just in time for Felice to return with her face caked in what looked to be a muddy green facemask, settling in next to him.
“I think he’s shooting the video to his next song, isn’t he?” she asked, looking at Wille with that intense look that made him avert his eyes.
“How would I know?” he huffed defensively, blushing slightly under her gaze.
“Oh come on, Wille…” Felice said softly, making him look up. “We both know you have looked at his official account to check…”
“He’s just teasing the new release, apparently it’s still a few weeks until we get to hear it!” Wille complained, turning over to lie on his back.
“I’m sure it’ll be great, Stella told me it’s another guaranteed hit!” Felice quipped, giggling at Wille’s scandalized look.
“Has she heard it already? That’s so not fair!” he huffed, his phone lying on his chest before he took it in his hand, turned to his side and took a quick snap of himself, uploading it to his own, private instagram account no one but his friends knew about.
Felice couldn’t help but snort at his antics, shaking her head. “You know she has special perks, working as his assistant and co-manager… of course she has heard it, probably before anyone else!” Wille huffed slightly, enjoying the vibration of his friends commenting and liking against his chest. Felice giggled, quickly typing out a comment before putting away her own phone. “I thought you came by to watch horrible movies, not to mope about how you can’t wait to hear that angelic voice again…”
Wille groaned and hid his face in her sheets, feeling how his cheeks burned. “I should have never told you that…” he complained, shooting her a glare that lacked any sort of heat.
“Well, too bad you were too drunk to function and this absolute banger just happened to come on the radio…” she mused, gently patting his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that the Crown-Prince of Sweden is a total fanboy for Simon!”
Wille was about to shoot an answer at her, denying that he was a fanboy, that he was just happy for the success of their schoolmate, when his phone vibrated again. Deciding to check what his friends were writing, he opened instagram back up, taking a quick glance, before almost dropping his phone against his chest that felt ten times tighter all of a sudden.
“Wille… you okay?” Felice waved in his face, clearly worried at his sudden stillness. Wille was sure all the color drained from his cheeks.
“He… he liked the photo…” he murmured, his heart beating fast. “Simon just liked my post!” That had never happened before. At least, not when it was only him in the picture. Simon had only liked group pictures or candid shots from group gatherings in which Wille was not visible. Never a selfie, never just him.
Felice grinned. “Yeah, well, you do look cozy, curled up on my pillow like this. And now move over, before I kick you out of the bed for hogging all the space!”
When Wilhelm opened the post later that night in the car back to the Palace, the like had disappeared, and left a gaping hole in his chest instead.
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Wille was still caught in the memory of that night about three weeks ago when he felt a tug on his hand. Looking up, he saw Felice standing above him, grinning mischievously as she pulled on him. “C’mon Wille, you can’t keep sulking all night. Let’s dance a bit!” she whined.
And how could he deny the birthday girl this wish? Sighing deeply, he got up, shooting Sara an apologetic smile. “Sorry for leaving you like that…” he mumbled, but she just waved them off, turning to Marcus instead to start a passionate discussion about horses.
The dance floor was crowded with the who’s-who of the Swedish high society, at least those that were close in their age. Some of them Wilhelm knew from his almost one year at Hillerska, like Walter and Henry who had been in his year and were dancing closely together now and waving at him, or Vincent who had been two years above him, in the same year as August, and part of the Society. His smile was more tense, clearly embarrassed at what had unfolded at their parties and the consequences it had for the Prince, but trying to pretend those never happened.
However, before he could react to any of his old acquaintances, Felice was pulling him straight across the dance floor, and the brows that had been furrowed in confusion shot up as he realized where she was heading. “Felice, no..” He hissed, biting his lip anxiously and trying to pull his wrist from her vice-like grip. But it was no use, she was steering him straight for the curly back of Simon’s head.
Knowing he couldn't stop the inevitable, Wilhelm allowed himself a moment to take in the man that would probably be the end of him someday. Simon had no business looking so hot in tight black leather pants and a black lace blouse. His shoulders had filled out beautifully, and there was little resemblance to the boy Wille had fallen for during their brief time at Hillerska.
Much too soon, Felice came to a stop and tapped Simon on the shoulder, who turned around and smiled brightly at her. “Felice! Happy birthday!” he exclaimed, enveloping her in a tight hug. Over her shoulder, his eyes found Wilhelm’s, and oh, how Wille could drown in these brown pools.
“Simme, I’m so glad you made it. I almost thought you were going to bail” Felice scolded, eliciting a small chuckle from Simon and Stella.
“Sorry, that’s my fault,” Stella offered, shooting an apologetic glance. “We had to make sure everything was set up correctly, and the video came in way too late… but don’t worry, it’s all taken care off now.”
Felice beamed, nodding happily. “Great! Oh, Stella, Fredrika, could I talk to the two of you for a second?” Wilhelm tried to discretely shoot her a warning look, but she just smiled sweetly as honey, looking between Simon and Wilhelm. “You guys remember each other from Hillerska, right?”
“Yeah, sure!” Simon offered, a challenge in his voice. “How have you been, Your Highness?”
Wilhelm trained his face into a polite smile, resisting the urge to strangle the quickly retreating form of Felice. “Good… Good. Pretty busy at the moment, but I’m sure you know how that is…” he trailed off, knowing how pathetic that sounded and mentally kicking himself for these platitudes. “And please, drop the title, I’d prefer if you called me by my name…” he added with a small head shake, a lump forming in his throat as his hands reached up to push his hair out of his face. He didn’t expect that Simon would return to calling him by his nickname, like he had back at school, but oh, how we wished for it.
Simon looked at him for a moment, chewing on his lip and twitching his fingers. Wilhelm couldn’t help but notice, it had been Simon’s one tell-tale sign that he was nervous when they were… together? Could you call their little, short lived fling in the first year at Hillerska that? But soon enough, Simon nodded, shrugging slightly. “Yeah, sure…” he mumbled, casting a glance around the club.
“So, uhm…” Wilhelm cleared his throat, trying really hard to find something to talk about. “Your new song is dropping soon, right?”
Simon shot him a glance Wilhelm couldn’t quite decipher, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, uhm... In two days, actually. But, you might not have to wait that long…”
Wilhelm could feel a feeling of triumph blossom in his chest. He had made Simon smile even if it was small. That was something he had missed for the last 5 years. “Oh great, I can’t wait to hear it!” he exclaimed, kicking himself in his mind before he heard a soft chuckle falling from Simon’s sinful lips.
“Oh, is that so?” the curly-haired singer teased, looking up at Wilhelm through his lashes, and god, if that didn’t do something to Wille.
“Yeah, of course!” he offered quickly, maybe too quickly. “You know I’ve always loved your singing!” Wilhelm couldn’t help but blush when he realized what he had just uttered, gently clearing his throat. “I mean… I always knew you had a talent, it was just a matter of time until someone else noticed.” He tried for a nonchalant shrug, the memory of Parents Day returning in a flash.
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Wille was still beaming when they filed out of the little church on campus, the parents excitedly talking to their kids after being cooped up and listening to the choir for half an hour. He couldn’t wait to see Simon who would step out a little later with the rest of the choir, and congratulate him on a perfect performance. The words of Simon’s last solo were still stuck in his head, and he could still feel his angelic voice soaring above their heads, filling the interior of the space and his heart with feelings he was slowly learning to accept and embrace.
Walking a little further to evade most of the parents looking to make royal connections, he could see Stella standing to the side with her father, talking to him excitedly. She was grinning widely and gestured enthusiastically, and her father beamed proudly at her as Wille picked up the tail end of their conversation. “… told you he was great!” Stella laughed, looking expectantly to the entrance of the church.
Wille only had a moment to wonder about what was going on before August pulled him away for a photo-op, trying hard to make it seem like they were best friends when really, Wille couldn’t care less about his overbearing, invasive second cousin. He tried to put on a polite smile, for appearances and Erik’s sake. If Erik wanted him to be friends with August, then he would at least try. Soon enough though, he was tired of pretending August said something funny or profound, so he excused himself to head to his room and make a call. He needed to talk to Erik about not coming home for the weekend, after all.
Somehow, he managed to successfully excuse himself from going home, even though Erik had seen right through his flimsy excuses. Wille didn’t really know why he had expected differently, really, Erik knew him better than anyone else, probably. So he had more or less confirmed his crush with his refusal to deny, and a soft blush was spreading across his cheeks as he left his room, his phone still warm in his pocket.
When he returned to join the rest of the student body who was gathering in front of the main building, he was surprised to see Stella and her father engaged in a conversation with Simon and who Wille assumed to be his mother, she had stood with Sara before the church when he had left, after all. Sara was off to the side a little, talking to Felice who’s mother was currently rubbing elbows with a couple of other parents. Probably looking for ways to further her influence and gain power, as his mother would say. For some reason, she wasn’t the biggest fan of Smysan despite their shared time at Hillerska and officially being considered friendly. Wille didn’t understand the reasons, he actually found her quite charming. Sure, he knew she had high expectations of Felice, but that wasn’t so much different from his own family, after all.
Quickly he made his way over to the two girls, a confused eye on the little group formed around Simon. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, nudging Sara gently with his elbow.
She looked up at him, her face graced with a small smile. “Stella’s father wants to take Simon under contract,” she informed him in her usual deadpan tone, and Wille’s confusion must have been obvious on his face because Felice giggled softly.
“Stella’s Dad is a record producer,” she supplied the missing information, smiling as realization dawned on Wille. “Actually, he’s the owner of one of Sweden’s biggest record company. And apparently, Stella told him about this boy in choir who has an amazing voice and would fit perfectly into their roster of artists…”
Wille’s heart soared for his friend at the realization, Simon was in the process of being offered a record contract, Simon with the angelic voice would become a recording artist, become famous, most likely, and earn his money with his music. He would get to travel the world like he had dreamed, would get out of Bjärstad and make a name for himself. Why then was his heart tightening at that thought?
He didn’t have time to dwell on that idea though, because Simon excused himself from the conversation he was in and stumbled over to their group with a dazed grin on his face.
“Hey guys…” he mumbled, wrapping one arm around his sister for support as he blinked, clearly overwhelmed by the developments. Wille wanted to reach out and hold his hands, or hug him, or kiss him...
“Hey, everything alright?” he asked instead, shooting him a encouraging smile.
“Yeah… uhm… Stella’s dad really wants me to sing for his label. He’s gonna talk details with Mamá over dinner, but… I think she might just agree!” he whispered, only loud enough for the group huddled around him to hear. Exhausted, he leaned his head against Sara’s, smiling brightly at Wille, who could feel his heart swoop at the sight.
“Oh my god, congratulations!” Wille really wanted to reach out and pull Simon into a tight hug, but he was strangely aware of eyes on him. Looking around, he found August looking at him, brows furrowed. The hand that had already been on the way to envelop Simon instead only gave the smaller boy a gentle tap on the shoulder before Wille busied it with running through his hair, biting his lips anxiously because he just wanted to touch...
Felice didn’t have the same reservations as he did, she squealed and pulled Simon in a fierce hug, grinning wildly. “This is so amazing! I knew something was up when I heard Stella on her phone, telling her father that he simply had to make it here in time for the choir performance. Apparently, he had some meetings he had to cancel to make it, but now it makes so much sense!” She let him go, grinning at Stella who was making her way over now. “And here we have Hillerska’s very own talent scout!”
Stella grinned, shaking her head. “Thank you, thank you, but I only made sure my dad was here to judge Simon for himself. He’s the one who has the real eye for talent.”
Simon reached over to grab Stella’s hand, squeezing it in gratitude, and she leaned over to give him a one-armed hug. Wille’s heart swelled at the sight, realizing that he wasn’t the only one who knew Simon was special. And now, all of Sweden would get the chance to realize that.
The rest of the day was spent in excited conversation about the record contract, with speculations about what that would mean for Simon and his family, and the eager chatter only died down when they sat down to dinner, shifting the attention towards the other kids and their extracurricular activities. Wille was officially introduced to Simon’s mother, a very pleasant woman with a slight spanish accent. Wille did his best to be on his finest behavior, pulling out all the princely stops to be polite and charming, and apparently, it worked, Linda stopped being as nervous and even started joking with Wille a little. Respectfully, of course.
The mood was great, until Sara had blurted out that Felice didn’t enjoy riding, and she had been taking care of and riding Roussau in her stead. Wille had followed the clearly upset Felice outside to the hallway to comfort her, and only made things worse when she assumed he was making a move on her. The kiss she gave him felt empty, not at all like the kisses he had traded with Simon a few weeks prior. Wille hated seeing Felice hurt when he cleared the miscommunication up, and he kicked himself for always trying to meddle when she left him in the dark hallway, her soft sob echoing in his ears.
And the day only got worse, with August apparently arguing with his mother bad enough that he decided to stay behind as well. This threw a proper wrench in Wille’s plans for the weekend, and he dreaded having to tell Simon in the morning. At the disappointment in his… friend’s face, Wille quickly came up with a solution, hoping with everything he held dear that he had been charming enough for Linda to accept the idea of the Prince of Sweden sleeping over for the weekend. She would be away today, meeting with Stella’s father to discuss the details of the contract, so Wille could probably drop by and spend the afternoon with Simon, and then both he and Simon could ask her together whether he could stay there when she returned in the evening. And maybe they could properly celebrate Simon’s contract, if she decided to accept the offer for him. Wille already had some ideas for a more private celebration, and by the look in Simon’s eyes as he suggested the sleepover in Bjärstad, they were on the same boat.
The continued vibration of his phone only distracted Wille slightly as he suggested taking a walk they would never finish, reality catching up with them in their happy cocoon of obliviousness much too soon.
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Simon’s bright laugh shook Wilhelm out of the memory of that fateful day, swallowing thickly as the grief and loss washed over him again.
“So what you’re trying to say is that the Crown Prince of Sweden is my biggest and truest fan, is that it?” Simon grinned, a teasing look in his eyes.
Wilhelm blushed harder, thinking back with a heavy heart at the day that Simon had liked and then unliked his post three weeks ago. “Of course, from day one! It’s not everyday your best friend from School becomes a superstar on the same level as Mariah Carey and Michael Jackson!” he quipped, grinning as he saw a blush creep up across Simon’s cheeks.
“Oh, stop it, I’m not that big…” Simon protested, but beneath the shy smile, Wille could have sworn he was the shadow of something else flit across his features, something akin to… sadness?
“Excuse me, who was is then that blew up about three months after leaving Hillerska because he opened for Harry fucking Styles?” Wilhelm laughed, raising his eyebrows.
With another flash of sadness flitting over his features and a soft clearing of his throat, Simon looked down, tensing his fingers. “About that… sorry I didn’t tell you I wouldn’t be there when you returned, I just… didn’t know how to start that conversation, after… you know.” He looked up carefully at Wilhelm, gesturing in his general direction.
After what happened to your brother, after you didn’t reply to my messages, after your whole life had just turned upside down… Wilhelm nodded, his hands struggling to not reach out and pull Simon into a hug he had been yearning for every day since they had looked at each other that last time. He buried them in his pockets instead. “Yeah, I… I’m sorry as well. For… you know. And for not reaching out later, I wanted to, but… I didn’t know how. Things were… kind of crazy.” He offered, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I was so excited when your career exploded though, I’m so immensely proud of you…” his voice felt like it was just a whisper, but Simon had heard it if the growing blush on his cheeks was anything to go by.
“Thanks, Wille…” he answered, and oh, how Wilhelm’s heart soared at the nickname. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
Before they could continue this conversation though, Stella climbed up on the stage of the club, tapping the microphone that had been placed on it and commanding everyone’s attention. Simon shot Wilhelm an apologetic look, gesturing to his friend and manager. “I think that’s my cue… but maybe we can talk some more later?” Simon questioned, and Wilhelm thought he saw hope shining in his eyes as he nodded quickly, giving Simon what he hoped was an encouraging smile before the singer disappeared into the backrooms of the club to get ready to go on stage.
“Excuse me, everyone!” Stella spoke into the mic, gesturing greatly. “If I could have your attention and the birthday girl in the front please?” Everyone turned to the stage, making room for Felice to step through who was blushing a little, obviously a little flustered. To everyone else, it looked like she was suprised, but Wilhelm had an idea what would happen now, seeing as Fredrika was already pulling out her phone, trained on Felice’s approaching figure, Marcus just a few steps behind her. “Now, you all may know that Felice and I have been friends since before our first year at Hillerska..” The crowd cheered, giving their confirmation. “As it just happens, that first year at Hillerska was also the opportunity to meet a very special someone, who is here tonight with a not so little surprise…” Wilhelm could feel quite a lot of eyes landing on him, blushing under the attention. But before Stella could continue, or anyone could come to the wrong conclusion, Marcus stepped forward to take the mic from Stella.
“Felice, from the very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special to me…” he said for the whole room to hear, his voice quivering a little. Wilhelm couldn’t keep down his smile, it was adorable how nervous he was, despite them having been engaged for almost a year now. “And I can’t believe that 5 years later, you are still in my life, putting up with me and the horses.” A couple of laughs erupted from those who knew how much Felice had struggled with getting along with Roussau, and how much she had truly despised riding. Felice herself was close to tears, and the whole room waited with baited breath, a collective gasp rippling throughout the space as Marcus got down on one knee, pulling out a small, red box. “And this is why I want to ask you, Felice Ehrencrona, if you will do me the honor and become my wife…” An excited squeal echoed through the room as Felice broke out in tears, nodding happily and kissing Marcus in front of everyone. Across from him, Wilhelm could see Fredrika snapping picture after picture while Stella was filming from the stage, capturing the special moment to provide it to the press later. He knew that he would be on Fredrika’s pictures, in the background, smiling and clapping for his best friend, and he couldn’t be happier about it for once. That would nip any upcoming rumors about him being hurt about this development in the bud real quick.
Maddie quickly took the microphone from the happy couple who was hugging and kissing on the dance floor, and handed it to Stella who thanked her before raising her voice again. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, how about a bit of music? I present to you, Simon Eriksson!”
The crowd erupted in cheers again, and Wilhelm found himself surrounded by a throng of girls, all expressing their condolences and vying for his attention, determined to mend what they assumed was his broken heart. If only they knew…
He kept smiling softly and assuring them he was fine, that he was truly happy for his friend, and that he really just wanted to enjoy the music act, glancing at the stage where Simon was walking out now, waving excitedly to the crowd and hyping them up.
Slowly, the attention shifted away from Wilhelm, and he had never been this thankful that Simon was such a powerhouse on stage. Even if the way he swung his hips for the first song was really not fair…
He started to enjoy the little concert, dancing with Sara, Felice and Maddie, before the mood shifted and Simon sat down on a stool on stage. “Alright, so I think we all need a breather… I have two more songs for you until I take a bit of a break, and these are very special to me. The first one was my very first number 1 hit, and I’ve never told this to anyone, but I wrote it myself about someone I met at school.”
Wilhelm’s heart skipped a beat at these words, finding Simon’s eyes looking straight at him as the first notes to Wille’s favorite song began to play.
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The black car with tinted windows pulled away from Hillerska, the main building slowly retreating in the distance. Wilhelm’s mother was sitting next to him, her face hardened. Wilhelm hadn’t felt so small and insignificant in a while, and yet, he was seething, and rightfully so, if anyone asked him.
It had been less that 40 hours since he had learned about the biggest betrayal of his life, perpetuated by the people he should have been able to trust more than anyone else in the world.
40 hours since Sara had approached him, despite her ongoing grudge against him for how he had treated Simon, and asked him how he could be friends with “such a person”. 40 hours since he had subsequently discovered that his family had been blackmailed, for weeks now, unbeknown to him, and he had learned that someone so incredibly close to him had been responsible for it, even.
38 hours since he had confronted August with this knowledge, had demanded to know the reason for the betrayal and had received none. 38 hours since he had told August he was no longer part of his family, that he was dead to the Crown Prince.
36 hours since the pictures of him had leaked to the public, showing him passed out in a drunken and high stupor, a video of him throwing up, another of him uttering complete nonsense as one of his so-called friends egged him on, telling him he took too many pills and he needed to slow down with the drugs, for the good of the country.
35 hours since his mother had called, in full emergency mode, telling him he would leave Hillerska immediately and receive a private education from now on, that he would issue a statement about how he had struggled to cope with his brother’s passing, that he had hoped that returning to Hillerska and being around his friends would help him heal, but that it didn’t and that he would resume his education in the supportive embrace of his family instead. 35 hours since he had told her it was August, and he had discovered that his mother was aware, had been for weeks. That she had not told him anything about the blackmail and who was behind it, and instead had let him stay close to the one person who single-handedly threatened the monarchy, who had been proven to not deserve his trust and affection.
32 hours since he had cried himself to sleep, feeling utterly alone and yearning for Simon’s embrace and soft lips. 34 hours since he had caught himself wishing Simon had never been discovered and instantly hating himself for that thought. 34 hours since he had put on his favorite song, Simon’s first release, his big debut, the one that had catapulted him into stardom. Wilhelm had hoped it would help him fall asleep.
26 hours since he had startled awake, woken up by a knock on his door. Woken by Felice who was standing in front of him when he opened, a laptop and her phone in her hand, with irrefutable proof of August’s doing. Felice who hadn’t slept a minute since the videos and pictures leaked, to find any hint to who at Hillerska could have done something like that. 26 hours since he let her hug him tight, crying into her shoulder and telling her he would leave soon.
16 hours since he had received the brief about the exact timing of events, the written statement he had to memorize, and had started packing the few of his belongings he had taken with him to Hillerska. 16 hours since he had stood there, considering the string of red LEDs he had taken from his initiation party, and in the end had stuffed them into his suitcase, underneath his favorite hoodie, the one Simon had lent him after rowing practice one day when it had rained super hard and that he had never gotten to return.
1 hour since he had stepped out in the early morning sun, seeing his mother standing in front of him, next to the car that would take him away from the school that held so many memories, good and bad, that had been his one remaining tether to Simon. His mother, who dared to greet him warmly, when she had so clearly decided to protect August, her cousin’s son, instead of her own. 1 hour since he had pushed past her, not even sparing her a glance, and helped Alexander put the suitcases in the trunk, glaring at anyone who dared try to stop him.
1 hour since Felice, Stella, Fredrika and Maddie had stepped out of Manor Hall, making their way over while his mother had a meeting in the headmistress’s office, telling him goodbye, making sure he knew he could always call them and talk if he needed someone. Sara had been absent, appalled at his behavior in the pictures and videos, something Felice had explained to him when Sara had avoided him after the leak. He hadn’t known about Sara’s and Simon’s father, his addiction and how it had affected them both. Hadn’t known that had Simon been here, he would have surely lost him with how he had let himself go. 1 hour since he had sworn to himself to never take drugs again, and avoid drinking alcohol if it was socially acceptable.
Realizing he had another two hours of tense atmosphere with his mother in front of him until they would arrive at Drottningholm Palace, Wilhelm pulled out his headphones, ignoring the indignant huff coming from his mother. As far as he was concerned, he would not speak with her for the foreseeable future. Instead, he navigated to Simon’s spotify page, discovering he had just dropped a new song.
With shaking hands, Wilhelm pressed play, letting the soft piano and Simon’s haunting voice wash over him. The lyrics spoke of longing, of a love never fulfilled, of unrequited feelings. Of loving someone who didn’t want you back, someone you could never have. And Wilhelm felt his heart break all over again. With his words, Simon conjured up the longing that Wilhelm felt for his best friend and first love, and he couldn’t help imagining that Simon was singing like this about him.
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“Du gör mig dum…”
The last note soared through the club, raw and real and absolutely earth-shattering. Wilhelm felt like he couldn’t breathe, there was not enough oxygen in the world to make his lungs function. His eyes were transfixed on the man he had adored all these years, who had just sung his heart out, who was looking at him and oh god, Wilhelm just wanted to go to him, talk to him, pull him close and kiss him, but he was rooted to the spot, terrified of what any of this could mean.
Could he really hope? Did Simon still feel this way about him? Doubt began to settle in his mind. Yes, they had met at school, and they had shared a short-lived infatuation, but in truth, he didn’t know if Simon had even been talking about Hillerska, he went to another school in Stockholm when he moved there, after all. Or maybe he had stayed friends with someone at Hillerska which then developed into more, especially because Sara had stayed enrolled at the boarding school. In truth, Wilhelm could make the biggest fool out of himself if he just assumed, he couldn’t even assume that Simon was speaking about a man.
Yes, Simon had kissed Wille, had held his hand and exchanged longing glances, but he had never come out publicly after his debut, preferring to keep his sexuality and love life private. There had been rumors about Simon dating men, but never confirmed, never caught on camera. For what it was worth, Simon might be bi- or pansexual, queer or even straight with a bi-curious phase. Wilhelm couldn’t be sure about anything.
That was until Simon glanced away, smiling softly and nervously. “And now, I am very proud to present to you, exclusively, the video to my new song that’s dropping in two days. It’s my spin on a latin american classic, and it’s very close to my heart, so I hope you love it… This is El Inconditional” With that, the first notes began to fill the room, and the large screen behind Simon flickered to life. It was Simon, bathed in soft sunlight, walking down a beach. The wind was blowing his long curls as Simon began to sing, accompanying the video with a live version of the song instead of just playing the recorded one.
Ever since their school days, Wilhelm had learned Spanish, partly because his mother insisted on him being a polyglot and speaking as many of the major languages as possible (especially if there were royal families that spoke them officially) and partly to feel closer to Simon and understand even those songs he didn’t sing in swedish or english.
Wilhelm, who now stood there, realizing what was happening in this very moment. He knew the song, it had been a favorite of Sara and by extension Felice for a while, and there was a huge difference between the original and the version he was hearing this moment. Simon had switched the pronouns.
“Tú, el mismo, siempre tú
Amistad, ternura ¿qué sé yo?
Tú, mi sombra has sido tú
La historia de un amor
Que no fue nada
Tú, mi eternamente tú
Un hotel, tu cuerpo y un adiós
Tú, mi oculto amigo tú
Un golpe de pasión
Amor de madrugada”
Wilhelm felt like the rug was being pulled out from underneath him. Simon was coming out. Simon was publicly stating that he was interested in men, that he wasn’t straight. It was a risk, and Simon was taking it, bravely and beautifully, with a song and a romantic music video. A video in which he was staring longingly into the sunset or sunrise, broken up by scenes in black and white, shots of hands being held, of two teenagers in school uniforms running off, one of which had dark, curly hair, and the other blond, generic, vague enough to be anyone to those who didn’t know. But Wilhelm recognized the trail they were running down, it was one he and Simon had often ran with the rowing team, across the campus of Hillerska.
Wilhelm felt the start of a panic attack rise in his throat, watching as the scene shifted again, from present day Simon smelling a white rose, to the boys, one sitting on a windowsill at Hillerska, the other stepping closer and taking his hand. Their faces were not visible, but by the way they were leaning, it was clear what they were doing. And with that, Wilhelm felt like his world crashed down around him.
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It had been an emotional first two weeks for Wille, being thrown into a new school environment, away from his brother, all of his friends, the little comfort of his room at the palace, as impersonal as it had felt. Alone, with only an obnoxious cousin who seemed to enjoy putting him on the spot, overbearing, disruptive, with no sense of boundaries or privacy.
The only true glimmer of hope had been his budding friendship with the non-resident troublemaker, the opinionated and confident Simon. Simon, who didn’t let Vincent’s heckling stop him during the welcoming ceremony, who sang louder and more confident to show what he was capable of, who didn’t back down, who beamed when someone in the crowd cheered him on. Simon, who didn’t shift his views to whatever Wille said, unlike the other boys at school, who didn’t seem to care much that he was a Prince, at least definitely not in a positive way. Who dared to speak to him like he would to anyone else, who treated him utterly normally.
So of course Wille had been drawn to him, developing a connection quickly, finding he trusted him unconditionally and completely. And even if he had been unaware at first, he noticed that he felt more happy when he was around the shorter boy, and the way his insides started to tickle and a hundred butterflies seemed to take flight whenever their eyes met.
So yes, Wille had developed a crush on who was quickly becoming his best friend, some sort of tension building after his initiation party, where they had shared a moment, a glance at lips, pressed close together in hiding from August, his insufferable cousin. Something Wille had not dared to act upon, instead excused himself from the moment, fleeing the situation as his heart had beat fast and hard. Wille was sure Simon had been able to hear it, could have felt it beat out of his chest.
It all had culminated when they had met at the horror movie night, Wille dressed comfortably in a set of cozy pajamas, just like all the other boarders, Simon in his usual t-shirt and flannel combo. They had greeted each other, smiling softly, Wille feeling a bit self-conscious about the stark difference in dress. Next to Simon, he felt absolutely under-dressed. Ultimately, they had sat down together, shoulders and legs pressed together on the floor of the common room at Manor House that was packed with the whole student body coming together.
Wille had been super aware of the points of contact, the warmth that was emanating from his friend, so focused on not letting his crush show that he almost didn’t hear August, Nils and Vincent being their usual dickish selfs, instead focusing on Simon next to him.
After one jump-scare that had sent everyone but the three resident assholes into a flinch, he finally caved, the urge to touch, to feel some kind of connection in the darkness of the room too overwhelming, and Wille had placed a hand on his own knee, the pinky just touching Simon’s knee ever so slightly. Plausible deniability if Simon didn’t take him up on the offer, and inconspicuous enough to not be noticed by anyone else. But an offer nonetheless, one that Simon had taken when he placed his own hand overlapping Wille’s, touching their ring-fingers. Subtle, but clearly intentional. At Wille’s glance over, still cautious, Simon had given him the faintest of smiles, asking for permission. At Simon linking their fingers, Wille hadn’t pulled away, only tightened his own fingers between Simon’s, and Simon’s thumb had started gently caressing Wille’s finger. Wille couldn’t help a smile as the butterflies took flight again, glancing over to see Sara looking at Simon’s and his hands intertwined. All too quickly, Wille was reminded of where they were, of how many people were around and that anybody could notice, could find out that he was attracted to another boy. It would start rumors, rumors that would reach the wrong person, that would begin to circulate in their community, possibly being leaked and then there would be a new scandal, his mother would be disappointed, he wasn’t allowed another scandal, he was supposed to be a role model now….
Panic rising in his chest, he had pulled away and sprung up, leaving the room in a hurry, no doubt making a few of his peers wonder at his strange behavior. But the room was too small, too crowded, too stuffy, he needed air, he needed out. And so he had ran away, downstairs, biting his thumbnail anxiously when his eyes had landed on the plaque on the wall.
“You own the school. You are responsible for its legacy."
Legacy. He hated the word, having been plagued by it his whole life. He had a legacy to uphold and protect, he was part of the royal family, he was responsible for their image and their reputation.
The words didn’t help him calm down in the slightest, even when he rubbed his chest which usually worked wonders. Instead, he had fled to a windowsill, pushing open the window and taking in the cool air in big gulps.
Not even a minute later, Simon had found him, had come after him to check on him. Soft, gentle, kindhearted Simon, who instantly made him calm down, who had approached him like one would a scared animal, almost looking shy as he came closer. Who had asked Wille if he was okay, with the most understanding voice imaginable, and yet, with a waver in his voice, nervous and unsure of how to proceed. Simon had stepped closer after Wille had confirmed that he just needed to get out of the room, that he was fine. The tension was rising even more than before, now that they were away from all the others, aware that there was something between them, something unspoken. His friend had looked at Wille, vulnerable and so, so brave before he had leaned in to peck Wille on the mouth. It was Wille’s very first kiss, and he could feel the butterflies inside him turn into a tornado of fluttering wings at the ghost of a touch. After he hadn’t rejected Simon or reacted negatively (or at all,, honestly), the smaller boy had leaned in for another one, a kiss Wille just about reciprocated as a firework exploded inside him when all of a sudden, a loud noise from the common room had scared them apart, making the anxiety rise in Wille’s chest again. Anyone could step out of that room at any moment, seeing them, catching him as he was kissing a boy.
Panicked, he had started to stammer, trying to convey to Simon that he couldn’t be caught, couldn’t be out in the open. But his words failed him, and Simon had turned away, not understanding Wille, hurt because Wille’s words had sounded like a denial, a rejection, like he didn’t want this, didn’t want Simon when the opposite was true.
With trembling hands, Wille had reached out, grabbing Simon like he had at the initiation party, preventing him from leaving and pulling him back. When he was sure Simon wasn’t leaving, he had buried his hands in his hair, trying again to convey why he was so panicked, but not getting out the words right, only eliciting a huffed sigh from Simon, shutting Wille up. He didn’t believe a word Wille was saying, and neither did Wille himself.
Still, Simon looked hurt, insecure, vulnerable. He had put himself out there, being bold and risking their friendship. And now Wille was here, too scared to open up and let himself be vulnerable in return, instead making a total fool of himself.
All of a sudden, Wille felt like Simon was standing way too far away for his liking. It broke something in him, and without being able to stop himself, he had reached out, grabbed Simon and pulled him closer by his shirt. Simon had resisted slightly, clearly unsure and scared of overstepping a boundary, avoiding Wille’s eyes that were trained on him, and yet, he had followed Wille’s lead, stepping closer, letting Wille pull him so close that they were only mere inches apart. Wille registered the faint head-shake, the pleading look in Simon’s eyes, begging Wille to not play with him, that this shouldn’t be a joke to him. The pure and raw vulnerability between them almost ached as they shared the air between them, their breaths ragged and loud as thunder in Wille’s ear, and finally Wille had leaned up, capturing Simon’s lips gently with his own, kissing him properly. And Simon had returned the kiss, had kissed Wille back who lost himself in the gentle caress of their lips against each other, in Simon’s body so close to himself, Simon’s breath against his cheek.
Far too soon, they had separated, Simon biting his lip and smiling softly, Wille blushing profusely and clearing his throat, rubbing his neck self-consciously. He had hesitated before nodding towards the common room, whispering “We should probably… they might wonder where we went…”, Simon nodding softly and stealing another kiss.
“I’ll go back first, they might think I just went to the bathroom…” he mumbled, biting his lip and shooting Wille a shy smile. “See you in a bit?”
At Wille’s nod, Simon had smiled brighter and turned around to walk away, giving Wille a last glance over his shoulder before returning to the rest of the group, and Wille had stayed in the open window, his fingers pressed to his lips, cherishing the memory of feeling Simon against him, lips pressed against each other, breathing the same air. And he knew there and then that he wouldn’t be able to keep breathing without Simon in his life.
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“Tú, el mismo de ayer
El incondicional
El que no espera nada
Tú, el mismo de ayer
El que no supe amar
No sé por qué
Amigo, tú”
The last notes rang out as the picture of the two boys running down the path at Hillerska morphed into Simon, walking the very same path alone before the screen fading to black. It was accompanied by the loud cheers of the crowd, pulling Wilhelm back into the present. He was still rooted to the spot, staring up at Simon who cleared his throat, not daring to glance at Wilhelm. “Alright, I guess I will take a little break, and then I’ll be back with a couple more songs from my album. See you in a bit!” the singer spoke into the mic, getting up from the stool and leaving the stage in a hurry.
Wilhelm almost expected Simon to come find him in the crowd, was longing so much to touch, to kiss, to hold, but as the minutes passed by, he realized that even if they were in a safe environment, even if no-one could record them, he had not given Simon any indication that his feelings were reciprocated. If anything, Simon had put it all out there, and now it was on Wilhelm to take the next step, to be just as brave as Simon had been over 5 years ago, and today, as well.
Tearing himself away, disregarding whether Malin or Joakim were able to follow and leaving the throng of interested hopefuls behind, he made towards the stage, frantically looking for the tell-tale curls in the crowd. Instead, he found only Stella, in deep discussion with Fredrika, hands entwined. They looked up as he stumbled towards them, breathless in his panic that he might miss Simon, that the singer would disappear from his life like he had after Erik had passed. He couldn’t make the same mistake again, he couldn’t let him slip away and not at least make his feelings known.
“Wille…” Stella murmured, her eyebrows lifted in confusion. “You alright?”
“Yeah… I mean, no…” he stammered, blushing profusely. “Have you seen where Simon went?”
She shot him a glance, the same Felice always gave him, seeing right through his walls and barriers into his soul. She knew. “Yeah… he went to get some fresh air, through there…” she supplied, pointing towards a door.
“Thanks!” Wille quickly huffed, gently squeezing her shoulder and leaving her, barely hearing Fredrika ask “what was that about?” and Stella’s whispered “I’ll tell you later..” Before he could second guess his decision, he had reached the door, pushing it open to reveal a hallway that led to a single door. Behind that, he reached a small landing and a fire-escape overlooking Stockholm, where he found Simon, sitting on a steep staircase leading up to another floor, looking surprised when the door opened and Wille stood in front of him, breathless. The way Simon was sitting, their eyes were at the same level, evening out the playing field.
“Hey…” Wille whispered, scared that any loud noise might shatter the fragile bond between them, that he might scare Simon off and out of his life for good.
“Hey…” the singer replied softly, glancing down, looking just as vulnerable as he had before their first kiss all those years back.
Wille cleared his throat, wincing at the loud noise. “So, uhm… the new song is amazing…” he started, immediately wanting to kick himself until he heard Simon’s soft chuckle. It melted away his anxiety, making him step a little closer.
“I’m… glad you like it.” Simon murmured, finally raising his eyes to look at the Prince that stood before him, and Wille couldn’t help but get lost in the dark pools for a moment.
“Yeah, I… I couldn’t help but notice… parts of the video were filmed at Hillerska, right?” Wille bit his lip, averting his gaze downward, before being unable to resist and look back up at Simon through his eyelashes.
“That would be correct…” Simon confirmed, an unspoken question echoing in his voice, the glimmer of hope in his eyes making them shine ever so slightly more brightly.
“I knew.. I couldn’t stop thinking about that window ever since… couldn’t stop thinking about you after our kiss…” Wille whispered softly, carefully reaching for Simon’s hand to entangle their fingers.
Simon’s breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away his hand, licking his lips instead as if he too remembered that kiss so vividly as if it had just happened. “Is that so?” he murmured, swallowing thickly, and Wille couldn’t speak, only nod. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking about it a lot as well..” Simon confessed, smiling bashfully. Wille’s lips curled in a hopeful grin, and he stepped closer again, standing almost between Simon’s legs in an approximation of their one and only kiss when a careful hand on his chest stopped his movement. “You.. You do know we can’t just… pick things up where we left them… right?” Simon whispered, traces of hurt evident in his eyes.
Wille nodded, his turn to swallow thickly. “Yeah, I… I’m aware… I know I hurt you, back then, and… and I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in your life right now, but… but I’d like to get to know you again, learn everything about the man you have become, if you will let me?” He blinked at Simon, hoping that that would be enough, that Simon would accept his apology.
Simon seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes open and vulnerable, letting Wille into his soul for a moment before he nodded, giving Wille’s hand a small squeeze. “I’d like that… I’d like that a lot.” He whispered, the most precious and blinding smile dancing over his features before he turned serious again. “But… what about your mother? Would she… be okay with that? With us?”
Wille grinned, nodding quickly. “Oh, yes… she’s aware of my… of my interests. I informed her when the rumors about me and Felice started that I had no intentions with her, that we were friends and that she should not automatically expect a daughter-in-law… She was surprised, but made sure to let me know that whatever I decide to do or who I fall in love with, I have her full support, as long as I am conscious of the public opinion…”
Simon laughed brightly at that, shaking his head amused. “Who knew… Prince Wilhelm secretly coming out to the fucking Queen at.. What, age 17?” he mused, a mirthful smile on his lips. “And here I am, taking until I’m 21 to publicly acknowledge my gayness…”
Wille smiled softly. “Shut up, you have been out to your family and friends since before Hillerska, so you’re a few years ahead of me. I haven’t publicly discussed my sexuality, yet….” He murmured, running his thumb across the back of Simon’s hand.
Simon pulled back slightly, a questioning look in his eyes as he searched Wille’s face. “Would you, though?… I mean, after we get to know each other… we wouldn’t need to hide?”
Wille shook his head, smiling softly. “Only if you prefer it that way, but… I definitely want to introduce the country to my significant other at some point.”
Simon smiled softly then, pulling Wille closer by his hand. “How come you haven’t yet? I mean… I’m sure the Prince had quite a few suitors at his beck and call?” he questioned quietly, vulnerability evident in his voice.
“I just haven’t been interested in anyone in that way… not since I was 16 and hopelessly in love with my best friend, at least.” Wille finally confessed, smiling gently. Simon’s breath hitched, and before Wille could react, Simon had closed the gap, those soft lips pressing against Wille’s again. And oh, how Wille had missed them.