Chapter Text
Everything was a blur.
Simon’s breathing quickened. He couldn’t hear properly, there was a low buzz in his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was the low murmur from the crowd all around them, or a rush of blood to his head.
Wilhelm had turned back to the podium and finished his speech. The moment between them had passed, and now everything was derailing. People clapped awkwardly, looking around disconcerted.
Simon’s legs felt like jelly. Behind him, Felice put a hand on his back to steady him.
He saw Lilja come up to the podium and say something. He saw the guests getting up, confused; he saw the teachers ushering the students inside, and he was unavoidably caught in the current of people going up the stairs. He wasn’t moving on his own accord, paralyzed with fear and dread; Felice had to grab his hand and pull him along.
He looked around, his eyes searching for Wilhelm. He spotted him in the distance, sitting with his family, surrounded by security.
Once back inside the school, it was just commotion. The students were confused, amused, annoyed or ecstatic, chattering animatedly as the teachers fruitlessly tried to keep them under control.
Simon felt faint. He only realized that Felice was talking to him when she put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry?”
“Are you okay?” She repeated, her voice still muffled in his ears.
He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. His mouth felt dry. He felt sick.
Suddenly everyone went quiet, and there was a chorus of muttered greetings and everyone bowed. He looked up, confused, to find the Queen standing there, at the door, with Prince Ludvig. And Wilhelm.
Simon forgot everything else and looked at Wilhelm, begging him silently to look back.
Wilhelm seemed to be searching the crowd. For him? Simon nearly blurted out his name to get his attention. But someone else’s gaze unexpectedly met his own.
Queen Kristina was looking directly at him.
Simon’s instinct was to hide behind Felice, his hand clutching the hem of her blazer.
Lilja ushered the kids off to their dorms. He stared around confused, when he felt someone tugging at his hand.
Wilhelm had materialized beside him. Without a word, he pulled him along, darting through the crowd of students, Simon’s feet barely able to keep up.
They were back in the coat room, Wilhelm closing the door.
“Wille, what did you do?” Simon asked when he found his voice again. It still sounded a bit dim in his own ears, but at least he felt that he could think better, breathe better now that they were out of the crowd. “Why did you do that?” He repeated.
Wilhelm didn’t say anything; he had gone pale, lips parted and eyes very wide, taking very quick and shallow breaths. The only sound coming out of him was the slight wheezing of his breath. Simon realized this was a full panic attack.
“Shit, it’s okay, Wille, you’re safe,” Simon said, his voice trembling. Wilhelm bent over like he was about to be sick. Simon grabbed his arm, and put his other hand on Wilhelm’s chest. “Look at me, Wille. Look at me. It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, I’m not leaving, okay? This will be over in a moment. Just look at me,” Simon said, trying to calm his own voice. Wilhelm’s fear-stricken eyes met his.
“Feel my hand on your chest, and focus on how your breathing moves my hand. I’ll breathe with you, okay? We’ll do it together,” he continued. Wilhelm nodded, covering Simon’s hand with his own, clutching it to his chest, as he followed Simon’s soothing instructions to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth.
“Do you want to sit down? Do you want to go somewhere else?” Simon asked. Wilhelm shook his head, but he put his back flat agains the wall and slid down slowly, still holding on to Simon’s hand on his chest, until he was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him. Simon knelt beside him at the same time.
Wilhelm’s breathing slowed down little by little.
“Is that better?” Simon asked, getting a little nod in response. “You scared me,” he added with a small smile.
“I’m sorry,” Wilhelm said under his breath, looking embarrassed, his grip on Simon’s hand loosening a bit.
Simon was going to say something else, when the door opened. Jan-Olof’s frumpy face looked down at them.
“Crown Prince, the Queen requests your presence in the Headmistress’ office right away,” he announced, disregarding Simon or whatever he perceived was going on in the coat room at that moment. Simon almost wanted to scream at him.
Wilhelm gestured for him to wait; he focused on his breathing again, feeling Simon’s hand on his chest, squeezing it lightly. He took a deep inhale through his nose and let out one last long breath through his mouth, and nodded, as if to say he was okay now.
“Okay, let’s go,” he muttered. They stood up together, slowly. Wilhelm steadied himself with one hand on the wall.
Resigned, they followed Jan-Olof, grasping each other’s hands like they were holding on to dear life.
—
“Will you excuse us, Simon? We need to have a private conversation,” the Queen said as soon as they entered the room.
Simon was holding on to Wilhelm’s hand so tightly that he was sure he was cutting the circulation to his fingers. And he was shivering, like he had stepped into a cold environment. Neither of them moved or spoke.
Headmistress Lilja approached them and said something to Simon that he couldn’t quite process and led him outside. He glanced back at Wilhelm’s tense face before Lilja closed the door.
“Are you alright, Simon?” She asked. “Do you want me to call your mother?”
Simon didn’t reply. He needed to sit, his legs felt like jelly again, so he leaned against the wall and slid down it, pulling his knees to his chest.
It felt like hours passed before the door opened again and the Queen stepped out, telling Lilja that Wilhelm would be accompanying them back to Stockholm. Simon felt the Queen’s gaze pass over him as she walked away. He sat there, motionless; it felt like his insides had been removed.
Wilhelm was leaving.
Again.
He looked up to find Wilhelm standing beside him, looking mournful. Wilhelm held a hand out to him, and Simon took it, sure that he wouldn’t be able to stand up without help. He got to his feet, and Wilhelm enveloped him in a tight hug. Simon clung to him, trembling hands clutching at his back. Then Wilhelm took his hand and, glancing once at his mother, led Simon away. Simon didn’t look back at all. He knew that the only two people following them at a distance were Wilhelm’s bodyguards.
They didn’t say anything the entire way until they were in Wilhelm’s dorm room. Wilhelm closed the door, leaning against it, like he needed a moment to collect himself. Simon stood beside the sink, gripping the edge for support.
Wilhelm started moving about the room; he pulled a duffel bag and a backpack out of the closet and placed them on the bed, then walked around picking things up and packing them; clothes, shoes, his toothbrush, his laptop, a couple of notebooks, his phone charger. He then peeled off his Hillerska uniform and changed into a pair of jeans, a polo shirt and a wool sweater over it.
The whole time he was packing and changing his clothes, he talked, but his voice sounded quiet, like he was trying to stay calm.
“I’m sorry I did that without telling you first. I just… I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t say anymore lies. I knew she’d demand I go back to Stockholm with them. I’m only packing to make them think that I will stay for however long they want me to stay, but I’m not staying. There will likely be a meeting with the Royal Court this afternoon, as soon as we get back, and they’ll want to put out a statement explaining what happened, and I’ll be in that meeting. And as soon as it’s over I’m coming back. They want me to assume my role as Crown Prince and make me give speeches, then they’re going to have to also include me in the meetings and listen to me. I’m done with the Royal Court just telling me what to do. I’m done with them thinking that they can convince me to do whatever they want me to do. I’m not denying anything this time. And they can’t make me, because it’s out there already, it’s everywhere. They’re just going to have to go with it. If they’re smart, they’ll support me, they’ll support us… Simon? Simon, please don’t cry.”
Simon’s knuckles were white from how hard he gripped the sink. Hot tears filled his eyes, but he hadn’t felt them spilling down his cheeks. Wilhelm was in front of him, holding Simon’s face in his hands, and Simon swallowed hard, unable to speak.
“Simon, please believe me when I tell you that it’s going to be okay,” Wilhelm whispered, caressing Simon’s cheek tenderly. Simon felt like he would break into a million pieces.
“It’s happening again…” he choked out. Wilhelm shook his head vigorously.
“No, it’s not. I’m not letting it.”
“It is. They’re gonna make you do an interview again or… or something…” Simon said, his voice hitching, because he was trying not to sob. He hated himself for how weak and miserable he sounded. He hated himself for being so stupid to let this happen to him again, to let himself think that he had any choice in this matter. He hated himself for letting himself get hurt like this again.
Wilhelm shook his head. “They can’t. It’s everywhere now. That’s why I did it. I made it seem like it was my decision to lie. I got them off the hook. And they can’t make me take it back,” he assured Simon. But Simon also shook his head slowly, eyes still streaming.
”They are… you’re just going to leave and I’m… I’m gonna be wondering what’s happening… and then… you’re just going to… they’ll… you’ll take it back… again…”
Wilhelm pulled him into a hug again. “I’m not taking anything back,” he said gently. “I promise.”
“Wille, they’re gonna make you deny everything,” Simon said. He sounded bitter and angry. His hands were trembling at his sides.
“No, they’re not. They can’t. And even if they could, I won’t.”
“Yes, you are!”
“Look at me,” Wilhelm said, as he cupped Simon’s face again. His eyes were filled with tears too. “I won’t. I swear I won’t. I’m so sorry that I did before, you have no idea how much I regret it. But I was scared that time. I’m still scared, but fuck… I love you. And to know that you love me too… I’m not letting them take that away from me. I’m not letting them take me away from you.”
Simon nodded, wiping his cheeks. He didn’t know how to feel or what to think at this moment. They were taking Wilhelm away, again, and leaving Simon in the dark, again. He believed Wilhelm, he trusted him now, but he also knew there were forces beyond his comprehension working behind Wilhelm, and that they could do anything, so why would they not be able to destroy everything that they had, no matter how hard they tried to protect it…?
He clutched at Wilhelm’s arms. Wilhelm was nearly dragged out of Hillerska once already; and this time he was going willingly.
“And what if they… they could not let you come back… could they?”
Wilhelm scoffed. “I don’t care what they let me do or not. I’ll come back, even if I have to climb out my window and hitchhike all the way back here.”
“Wille…” Simon whispered. Wilhelm took his hands, interlacing their fingers, and looked earnestly into Simon’s eyes.
“I promise, I swear to you, I’m coming back.”
Simon touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s and closed his eyes.
“I’m scared,” he said.
“I’m scared too. But I love you, I know that much.”
“I love you too.”
Wilhelm kissed him, and Simon wrapped his arms around him, clinging to him, like he would fall apart if he didn’t. They kissed so desperately, wanting to absorb as much of each other as they could, to make time slow down. They kissed more desperately than two days before, when they thought it might be the last time they could ever be together. To Simon, right now, this was no different. He might never see Wilhelm again, for all he knew. He might never get to kiss him again.
So when Wilhelm pulled away, Simon chased his lips for another kiss, cupping his face. Wilhelm was crying too, he could taste their tears in his lips.
They stopped, breathing heavily. Wilhelm pressed his forehead to Simon’s.
“I’m sorry that I have to go. But I’m gonna go there and put an end to this. I don’t know what’s going to happen, they might tell me that I won’t be the Crown Prince anymore, they might want to put fucking August up to it instead. I don’t give a fuck. Then it won’t have been my choice, and I wouldn’t be letting Erik down… I doubt they would do it, I doubt they’d risk the bad rep, but… I don’t care. I choose you. I choose whatever I need to be with you.”
Simon embraced him again, nuzzling his neck. He should have felt happy to hear those words. But Wilhelm was leaving, so he could only feel fear and heartbreak right now.
Wilhelm tried to pull away. “I have to go… Simon, I have to go…”
Simon shook his head, gripping him tighter. “No… Don’t go.”
“Please, Simon… if I don’t leave now, I never will.”
Simon let him go. Wilhelm turned to the sink and splashed his face with cold water and dried off. He handed Simon the towel, before going to grab his bags. Simon looked in the mirror; his eyes and nose were redder than Wilhelm’s. He wiped his nose with a tissue and then splashed his face with cold water too, which did little to fix anything. He dried himself off, and Wilhelm planted a quick kiss on his lips.
“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his hand and heading out the door. Malin and Joakim, waiting on the other side, followed them.
They stopped in the main hall. Through the open door, Simon could see the cars waiting for Wilhelm outside.
“Will you call me when you get there?” Simon asked, resigned.
“I promise. I’ll call you all the time. I’ll keep you up to date. And you call me if you want to talk,” Wilhelm replied, offering him a feeble smile. “I’ll see you soon.”
“You better,” Simon said. He didn’t want to let go of Wilhelm’s hand. “I love you,” he added in a whisper. Wilhelm smiled, like those words had revived him.
“I love you too,” he replied. Then the smile faded, and he closed his eyes, like he was mustering every ounce of willpower he had to walk away. Without another look at Simon, he turned quickly and walked out the door.
The first car drove away, and Wilhelm got into the second car with his bodyguards. As they drove out, Simon noticed the group of reporters and photographers in the distance, outside the school gates, waiting for the cars to come around the bend and down the road. Camera flashes went off like strobe lights, voices shouting unintelligibly as the people chased after them trying to catch a glimpse of the passengers, before the cars sped away, down the road.
Simon started trembling again. With despair, with rage, with every emotion bubbling to the surface. He wanted to scream, smash things, throw himself against a wall. He hated everything, he was angry at everyone. He hated the Queen and Jan-Olof and the Royal Court. He hated August for destroying everything and Sara for double-crossing him. He hated Marcus for judging him. And he hated everyone at the school, the teachers, the students, the guests and the media at the jubilee; they all just sat there watching as if this were pure entertainment, as if they weren’t real people. As if it weren’t his life.
Then the cars disappeared from view, and he was just sad. He felt lost and lonely, like he had been set adrift.
He had no idea how long he stood there.
“Simon.”
Simon turned around. Felice stood at the threshold of the Manor house dining hall; she had changed out of her uniform and now wore jeans and trainers and a blue knit sweater, her coat hanging in her arms.
“Are you okay?” She asked, approaching him. Simon just shrugged. Did he look like he was okay? But he didn’t say that, he didn’t want to be rude. He got the feeling that Felice had sought him out to check on him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.
Simon looked in the distance again, as if to convince himself that the cars were gone, before giving her a half-hearted nod.
—
“I don’t know when he’s coming back, or if he’s even going to be allowed back,” Simon finished, summarizing what happened and what he and Wilhelm had talked about. He and Felice sat outside, in one of the stone benches, watching as a crew of workers dismantled the jubilee set up. All the guests, photographers, camera people and security guards were gone.
“I’m so sorry, Simon. You must be so frustrated,” Felice said, looking sympathetic. “For what it’s worth, I do think that you can trust Wilhelm. He’s changed a lot. And he really loves you. I mean he really, really loves you like crazy.”
Simon nodded. “I know,” he said meekly, staring down at his hands.
“I still can’t believe he did that. It was bold and… romantic,” Felice said with a small smile. “And I think he might be right. It’s out there. I don’t know if you’ve checked social media, but it’s everywhere. And it’s been less than an hour! They won’t be able to cover this or make him deny it. It would be insane.”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t think we can ever be sure with the Royal Court, or with Wilhelm’s mother.”
“I guess your right. But I think at least you can be sure that Wilhelm won’t let them force him to do anything. I don’t think he would have done something so crazy if he weren’t sure that he can put up a fight.”
He rubbed his face, tired. “That’s the thing, why does it have to be a fight? From the beginning it’s been just obstacle after obstacle, it’s exhausting.”
Felice put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“I just… I just want to be with him… I almost wish I didn’t want him so bad… but I do,” he whispered, on the verge of tears again.
“In that case, the only question is, is it worth it? All the exhaustion, the obstacles?”
Simon let out a deep exhale. But as he thought of Wilhelm, of kissing Wilhelm, of the feeling of Wilhelm’s hands on him, like his entire body was set on fire, of his smell, his voice, the way he looked at Simon like he was the most beautiful thing in the universe, the way Simon felt safe and loved in his embrace, the way that the world around them melted away when he was with Wilhelm… there was a pleasant warmth in his chest. “Yes,” he said in a sad whisper, without hesitation.
Felice smiled. “Well, now you’re just making me envious,” she joked, and Simon chuckled. “I hope one day I find someone to love as much as you love each other.”
He gave her a genuine smile. He had always been wary of Felice, despite her friendship with Sara; he was aware that she used to have a crush on Wilhelm (maybe she still did), and then hearing about that kiss… But knowing what he knew now, that Felice was Wilhelm’s friend and support system, that she tried to help them both… It was nice to have someone else on their side, someone else that he might trust.
“Do you feel better?” She asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “You?”
Her smile vanished, and she was lost in thought. “Sara moved out,” she said.
Simon’s smile disappeared too. He looked down at his hands. “When?”
“This morning, I guess. I slept in another room, I was so angry at her. When I got back to our dorm, her stuff was gone.”
Simon bit his lip. He wished he didn’t have to think about that, not with everything else he was dealing with.
“She probably went back home,” he said.
“Do you think so?”
“Where else would she go?” Simon said, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. He thought he knew his sister. But it was like she had become this whole other person right in front of him, and he hadn’t even realized it.
After he had always been so protective of her, even when he was the younger sibling, for her to stab him in the back like this… Was Sara getting back at him for Micke? Or did she really choose August, of all people, over her own brother?
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The last thing he wanted right now was to talk to her. It was too soon, he had other things in his mind, and nothing she said would help.
Maybe the only other person who understood what he felt right this instant was Felice. Felice who was probably Sara’s best friend, who actually chose Sara over August, who welcomed Sara into her dorm room and into her group of friends, who had been protective of her in Manor house when Simon couldn’t, and who obviously felt as betrayed by Sara now.
It made Simon wonder if Sara had actually cared about Felice at all, or if she had only wanted to be friends with her for the clout, to have access to her horse, to get special treatment. He never thought he’d feel bad for a rich girl like Felice, who was beautiful and popular and had everything, but he did.
“I feel so stupid,” Felice mumbled. Her eyes welled up with tears and her cheeks reddened.
“Don’t,” he said. “She tricked all of us. Especially me.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I can’t even imagine how you must feel about this. But I’m so angry at her, and you’re the only person I can talk to about this,” Felice said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to. It’s just… even though I’m mad, I’m still sort of worried about her… I kind of want to know if she’s okay.”
Simon’s eyes stung, but he refused to cry anymore. He just wanted to go home, get there in time for when Wilhelm called. But, if Sara might be home… He dreaded going home, he didn’t want to see her and possibly have to listen to her try to apologize, try to explain herself.
And how would she explain to their mother why she was suddenly moving back home?
However, he also wanted to know where Sara was, and if she was okay. As angry as he was at her, he now knew that she felt bad enough about it to move out of Manor house. Which meant that she was somewhere out there, feeling bad about herself.
“I guess I’ll go home. I’ll let you know if Sara is there. Call me if you hear from her first, please,” he said, standing up, swaying on the spot. He felt drained. Felice stood up as well.
“Everything is going to be okay. I know it,” she said, offering a small smile.
—
Simon walked back into the hall, hands in his pockets.
A part of him wanted to stay right there, hoping against hope that Wilhelm would be back. He told himself he would feel better once he got home, once he had spoken to Wilhelm. It had only been an hour, so he was only halfway to Stockholm by now.
The school was oddly deserted, there were no staff, no students walking around. The only noise around were the crews in the back still loading pieces of the jubilee setup into trucks.
Simon headed toward the gate, looked up and froze.
A large group of people stood just outside the gate. At least three dozens of them with cameras with massive lenses, video cameras, microphones and voice recorders.
These were the same reporters that had been chasing after the cars when the Queen and Wilhelm left. But now it looked like there were twice as many. Or maybe there were paparazzi there too? Had they been there this entire time? Waiting for whom?
Simon blanched. Some of them had spotted him and were calling out his name, and then all of them turned to him. Cameras started clicking and flashing at him.
They were waiting for him.
He stood there, hesitant, glancing over his shoulder, contemplating running back in the building. But what would he do then? Tell the headmistress? What could she do? Should he call his mother? How would he explain the horde of photographers waiting for him?
He just wanted to go home.
His mouth felt dry, his palms sweaty. He’d simply walk past them and ignore them, and get to the bus stop. Easy. No big deal.
Simon took a deep breath and started walking to the gate again, keeping his head down.
Do not make eye contact, do not speak, do not look scared, do not run, he told himself as he approached them. They surrounded him.
“SIMON!”
“SIMON!”
“SIMON, OVER HERE!”
“SIMON, HOW LONG HAVE YOU AND THE CROWN PRINCE BEEN TOGETHER?”
“DID THE CROWN PRINCE GO TO STOCKHOLM? WHY DIDN’T YOU GO WITH HIM?”
“OVER HERE, SIMON!”
“SIMON!”
“DID YOU KNOW THAT THE CROWN PRINCE WOULD SAY THAT IN HIS SPEECH?”
“SIMON, LOOK HERE!”
“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WITH THE CROWN PRINCE?”
“SIMON, DO YOU KNOW WHO TOOK THE VIDEO OF YOU AND THE CROWN PRINCE?”
“SIMON!”
“SIMON!”
Simon walked at a steady fast pace, resisting the urge to run. He looked straight ahead, his head slightly bowed, holding one hand up to shield his eyes from the flashes. It was difficult to see where he was going when reporters and photographers jogged alongside him or in front of him, shoving microphones and recorders into his face, shouting at him, and snapping photo after photo of him from every angle. The white light of the flashes blinded him; spots appeared before his eyes.
They weren’t touching him, but they were so close that he felt like he was asphyxiating, like they were crushing him.
He made it to the bus stop; as if by providence the bus was just rolling to a stop next to it. He climbed on, whilst the cameras and the shouting voices continued to chase him. To his relief, none of them followed him onto the bus.
His hands were trembling so much that he dropped his phone when he tried to show his bus pass to the driver. He crumpled into the nearest seat, crouching so that they couldn’t see him from outside. The bus was empty except for an elderly couple near the front, and a young woman in the back wearing headphones, who merely glanced at him then looked out the window again.
His heart was beating fast and hard, his breath coming out in shallow, wheezy gasps. He felt dizzy; his ears were ringing again.
“Hey, you okay?” the bus driver asked. Simon nodded when he should have shaken his head. He should have asked for help. Instead he lay down across the two seats, willing himself to calm down, his head hitting the wall, the bump between the seats digging into his back and his legs hanging awkwardly into the aisle.
Calm down, calm down, he told himself, feeling he might be sick. Why was he able to help Wilhelm earlier when he was having a panic attack, but he couldn’t help himself?
As if he had summoned him with his mind, the phone clutched in his hand started buzzing and vibrating. Simon tried to steady his breathing and his hands before pressing the answer button.
“Hey,” he said. His voice sounded strange.
“Hi,” Wilhelm replied, breathless. Simon felt relief wash over him.
“Are you… are you already in Stockholm?” Simon asked, his ears no longer ringing. He remained horizontal, just in case.
“No, we’re only halfway there, but I couldn’t wait to call you. I… I wanted to hear your voice. Are you home already?”
Simon smiled to himself. The dizziness disappeared. “No, I stayed a bit longer, I ran into Felice, and we were talking.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Apparently Sara moved out, so I’m guessing she’s at home.”
“Oh… does that… I mean… are you okay with that?”
Simon shrugged, even though Wilhelm couldn’t see him. “I don’t know, I guess I’ll find out when I get there. I’m on the bus now.”
“Okay, well, text me when you get there, please. I’ll call as soon as I get to Stockholm, but if you want to talk, call me.”
“Okay, I will.”
“Is everything else okay? Are you okay?” Wilhelm asked.
“Um,” Simon hesitated. “Yeah, sure.”
“It’s just that… you sound… tense.”
“Oh, I’m just tired,” Simon replied. He wasn’t about to tell Wilhelm that he’d just had a panic attack, didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. The reporters and photographers stayed behind, so he didn’t have to worry about them.
“Okay, yeah, me too. I need loads of coffee, and I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” Wilhelm said.
“You have to eat, silly,” Simon said, smiling when he heard Wilhelm chuckle. “I love you,” he added after a beat.
“I love you too,” Wilhelm said. “I miss you. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Simon hung up and immediately felt sad again. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before slowly and carefully sitting up. He looked out the window; one more stop and he’d be home.
He would get home, change his clothes, eat something and collapse on his bed until Wilhelm called him. He’d likely have to explain to his mother what happened, since she would have probably seen something on the news or social media already.
Linda had no idea he had broken things off with Marcus, she had no idea about him and Wilhelm, and she would have absolutely no context for what happened during the jubilee. On top of that, if Sara went home, Linda would be confused about that too.
The bus arrived at his stop. Simon got off and walked down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, gripping his phone like a lifeline.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw cars, at least six or seven of them, screeching to a halt behind the bus that was just pulling away from the bus stop. The cars parked in a line on the curb, and men with cameras jumped out and dashed down the sidewalk after him.
The photographers had followed him.
Simon felt a cold sweat, panicking again, trying to think what to do, as he slowly and hesitantly continued on the route he usually followed to get home. If he walked home, they would know where he lived.
Maybe they already knew. After all, a reporter had shown up at his door last year (not even a local one); maybe someone who knew him shared his address on social media, or maybe that reporter asked around. But the fallout of the sex video had been one thing. Now this, a speech by the Crown Prince going viral, carried a lot more interest. So of course it wasn’t just one random reporter now.
What should he do? He still didn’t want them to follow him all the way home, snapping pictures. He thought of going into a shop along the way, calling Rosh and Ayub to come pick him up, to make a dash for it, to get them off his back. But he didn’t want to get his friends involved in this. He simply wanted to get home. He felt ill; he didn’t want to be ill in front of cameras.
He thought of all this as the photographers caught up with him, cameras in his face again. He bowed his head, trying to shield his eyes with one hand, looking as stoic and as calm as possible. He walked faster without running. He couldn’t run anyway; some of the men would get right in front of him, walking backwards taking photo after photo of him or recording video. The men behind the cameras all kept calling his name, a few of them asking questions or saying other things.
“SIMON!”
“SIMON, OVER HERE!”
“GIVE US A SMILE!”
“LOOK HERE, SIMON!”
“SIMON, ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH THE PRINCE?”
“WHAT DOES THE QUEEN THINK OF THIS?”
“SIMON, LOOK HERE!”
“SIMON, GIVE US A SMILE!”
Simon almost tripped when his foot caught on the foot of one of them. The man didn’t even apologize.
“Are you- are you going to keep following me?” He asked feebly, knowing he shouldn’t have spoken to them, knowing he shouldn’t have acknowledged them. None of them replied, just kept doing what they were doing. He walked on.
People on the street, standing outside shops and restaurants or walking by, gawked at the sudden spectacle. Simon couldn’t really see the people, see if he recognized anyone, if anyone recognized him. The people just watched, stared in fascination, probably pulled out a phone to record, to upload for everyone to see.
He entered his neighborhood and made his way to his house. The photographers followed him all the way to his front door, shouting more desperately and unintelligibly at him. Simon fumbled with the key in the door, cursing to himself. He yanked the door open and closed as fast as he could, stumbling backward in the entrance. The cacophony of voices stayed on the other side.
“Simon, ¿qué está pasando? ¿Quiénes son?”
Linda appeared from the kitchen. She looked out the large window in the dining area, staring in shock at the photographers clustered outside. They saw her and started snapping pictures of her. Simon dashed to the window and yanked the blinds down. He was breathing hard, his heart was hammering in his chest, his ears buzzing again. He started walking around the house, closing all the windows and drawing curtains and blinds. He couldn’t do anything about the front door window. Linda followed him.
“Simon, ¿qué pasa? ¿Por qué hay fotógrafos fuera de la casa? What’s happening?”
“What’s going on?” Sara asked, hurrying out of her room, coming face to face with Simon. She blanched at the sight of him, and Simon scowled at her for a second before going into her room and closing the curtains. He continued to walk around doing this until every window was blocked somehow. He grabbed a pillowcase from the dryer and a roll of masking tape and taped the pillowcase over the front door window. The house was pretty dark by the time he finished.
His mother followed him to his room, as he glanced outside quickly, parting the curtains of the window beside his bed to look outside. The curtains and blinds in his room were almost always closed, a habit he acquired after the video.
“Simon, please, tell me what’s going on,” Linda begged him. Simon put a hand over his mouth, to contain a sob. He crawled onto his bed, finally letting go and sobbing into the pillow. He thought he couldn’t cry anymore, but new hot tears soaked into the sheets; his throat felt raw, his chest tight and painful.
He felt his mother’s hands on his shoulders.
“Mi amor, ¿qué sucede? Me estás asustando…” she asked in a gentle voice. He felt her sit on the edge of his bed. “Please, you can tell me anything. But talk to me, please, you’re scaring me.”
It took Simon a moment to be able to stop, to regain his breath and calm down. He sat up, feeling like a rag doll, his limbs weak, leaning his body into hers for support. He looked into his mother’s big concerned eyes.
And then he told her. He told her everything he could. He had to leave out the issue with August and with Sara, but he told her about everything else. He went as far back as his failed attempt at trying to get over Wilhelm by dating Marcus, how hard it was for him to be broken up, how Wilhelm eventually gave him space, and how much they wanted to get back together; he told her about the kiss at the ball, about the song, and Jan-Olof; he told her about Wilhelm saying that he would willingly give up his role as Crown Prince if it meant that they could be together, if Simon would have him; he told her about breaking things off with Marcus, and how he told Wilhelm that he was okay with being together in secret until they were eighteen; he told her about Wilhelm’s speech, and how it was everywhere now; he told her about the Queen making Wilhelm go back to Stockholm, and how Wilhelm promised that he wouldn’t deny anything this time and promised to be back as soon as possible; and he told her how the photographers had been there waiting for him outside Hillerska and followed him home, and he hadn’t known what to do.
Linda was stunned, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. She cradled her son in her arms, rubbing his back to soothe him.
“Ay, hijo…” she muttered. “What can we do? Should we call the police? To make them go away?”
“I don’t know…”
“Todo va a estar bien, mi amor. I’ll call the police if they don’t go away soon, and it’ll be okay. But…” she stroked his cheek, her eyes watering. “You should have told me. You should have told me what you were going through. I didn’t know how hard it was for you, I didn’t know how you felt.”
Simon leaned into her touch. “I’m sorry. I wanted to move on, I wanted so bad to get over Wille… and you were so excited about me and Marcus-”
Linda grimaced. “Ay, Simon, of course I was excited, because I thought you were happy. I don’t care who you are with, as long as you are happy. Yo solo quiero que tú seas feliz, mi amor…”
He wiped his face. “That’s the thing. I’m not exactly happy right now… I love Wille, and he loves me, but… everything is messed up right now. And I don’t know if we’re ever going to be actually happy together…”
“Well… every relationship has challenges…” Linda said. “I know it’s hard, and you’ve been through a lot, but… if you really love each other, only you can decide whether it’s worth it or not. Whether you can make each other happy, eventually.”
“It feels like it’s more up to the Royal Court,” Simon said flatly.
Linda continued to stroke his back and cheek, telling him he should have called her before leaving Hillerska, that she would have come to pick him up, instead of him having to walk through photographers on his way home.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to come home,” he sniffed, wiping his nose with a tissue. “I think they would have found out where I live, anyway.”
“Have you told Wille about it?”
Simon shook his head. His head hurt, from all the stress and crying. “I don’t want him to worry. They’ll go away eventually.”
Linda stared at him, unsure. “If they don’t, I think you should tell him. Maybe he knows what to do, or someone from the Royal Court can help.”
He scoffed. The Royal Court would be too busy trying to brainwash Wilhelm.
Linda sighed. “I feel like you kids don’t tell me anything anymore, like you don’t want my help at all. I know you’re getting older and you can handle yourselves, but I am still your mother and I worry about you, it’s my right as your mother to worry about you two,” she said. “Sara didn’t call me either, I would have come pick her up, instead of her carrying her luggage all by herself in the bus.”
Simon closed his eyes. He knew the conversation would turn to Sara. His headache pulsated. Linda looked concerned.
“Simon, do you know why your sister came back? She said she doesn’t fit in at Manor house, that she was way in over her head, but she also said that she wants to go back to Marieberg. I was sad when she moved out and I’m glad that she’s back, but… to leave Hillerska completely and go back to her old school? I thought that was the last thing she wanted. But she won’t explain more.”
Simon looked down at his lap. “She can do whatever she wants, she’s an adult now,” he muttered, his tone bitter.
Linda leaned forward, trying to get him to look at her. “Did something happen between you?”
Simon shrugged. “You should ask her about that. She’s responsible for her decisions.”
“Simon, por favor.”
“Mamá, no quiero hablar de eso. If you want to know, ask her. I don’t have to explain anything for her.”
With a loud huff, Linda stood up. “Bueno, está bien,” she said. “I know you’re overwhelmed right now, and I thought you both would be at Hillerska for lunch, so I didn’t make anything. Would you like me to fix you something to eat?”
Simon leaned his back against the wall. “Thanks, but no. I feel too ill. I have a headache.”
Linda promised to get him something for that, and offered him a cup of tea. He smiled and gave a tiny nod.
Linda gave him an encouraging smile and caressed his face. “Todo va a estar bien, mi amor. Eres fuerte, Simon.”
She left, closing the door. Simon took off his jacket, leaving it at the foot of the bed, and curled up into fetal position.
You’re strong, Simon, she always told him. He was strong most of the time. But today he was a weak mess; he hated himself for it.
He still had Wilhelm’s orange sweater stashed under his pillow. Without even thinking about it, he pulled it out and buried his face in it, inhaling the lingering scent. It still smelled faintly like Wilhelm, but he yearned for the real thing. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that Wilhelm was beside him, curled up into him like they had been the morning before, waking up in each other’s arms again.
He cursed himself when he started crying again, knowing that he would get tears and snot on the sweater, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wept into the soft fabric, until he was completely drained.
When Linda came back in quietly with a steaming cup of chamomile tea, Simon was asleep, eyelashes still moist from unshed tears.
—
Simon woke up to his phone buzzing. His head felt like it was about to explode.
The only light in the room was from the fish tank. There was a lukewarm cup of chamomile tea, a glass of water and a paracetamol pill on his bedside table. He squinted when he turned on the bedside lamp, and reached for the water and pill, gulping them down.
His phone buzzed again. He fished it out of the jacket pocket.
He had 127 messages. Simon groaned and quickly scrolled though the list, reading the previews. He ignored most of them, from people he disliked or hadn’t talked to in a long time, who clearly came out of the woodwork when Wilhelm’s speech had gone viral. There was one from Sara, which she sent during the jubilee; the preview only said ‘I’m sorry, Simon’. He ignored it too.
There were a dozen from Rosh and Ayub each. There were also messages from Wilhelm. “Shit,” Simon said, opening them.
- 11:46 - Hey, are you not home yet, or maybe you forget to text me?
- 11:47 - It’s okay if you forgot. I just want to know you’re okay. Text me when you see this, please.
- 12:29 - I’m almost in Stockholm now. I’ll call you, but now I’m thinking maybe you fell asleep? Not surprised, I slept most of the rest of the way.
- 12:31 - Let me know when you see this, so I can call you. I don’t want to wake you up if you are sleeping.
Simon cursed again and quickly typed a reply:
- 12:40 - Sorry, yes, I fell asleep. I just saw this. I’m sorry. You can call me.
He checked the messages from Rosh and Ayub. Apparently they had seen the videos of the speech on social media. They were asking if he was okay. Before he could type an answer, he had an incoming video call from Wilhelm.
Simon jumped up and checked himself in the mirror; he looked awful. Nothing he could do about that now.
He pressed the answer button. Wilhelm’s face popped up on his screen.
“Hi,” he said, smiling. Seeing him, even through a screen, was like a balm. Wilhelm’s face lit up too.
“Hi, I literally just walked into my room,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I was just tired. I had a headache and fell asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t text.”
“No, it’s fine. Do you feel better?”
“Yeah, it was all the crying, I guess… How are you?”
Wilhelm had stopped walking around his room and sat down on the bed. “Um… well, the Royal Court is meeting without me. My mum told me to go to my room, like she didn’t want to deal with me right now. I didn’t argue with her, because she’ll have to have me in the meeting later, anyway, but right now I doubt she’ll listen to me, she’s too upset.”
“Oh,” Simon said, scratching his head. “But… what if she never asks you to be in the meeting?”
“She’ll give in, once she calms down. She’s always wanted me to participate, since I became the Crown Prince. She can’t shut me out now just because she’s mad at me.”
Simon bit his lip. He didn’t want to say what he feared: that Wilhelm wasn’t really taken to Stockholm to participate in the Royal Court meetings, but to be available to make a statement of their choice, to do another interview denying everything.
But he trusted Wilhelm. Even though he felt scared.
“Is everything okay?” Wilhelm asked, watching him.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Simon said. He wasn’t lying, he felt better now that he had slept a bit, and got to see Wilhelm. “You?”
“I have a headache too, I haven’t eaten anything, and I lost my appetite,” Wilhelm made a face. “It’s being here, it’s her, the way she just dismissed me like that.”
“Please eat something, and coffee doesn’t count.”
“I’ll try.”
Simon paced around his room venting about Sara, the conversation with Felice, and his mother asking him questions about it.
“I don’t have to explain anything for her. She’s such a coward,” he said bitterly. He stopped and sat cross-legged on his bed, leaning against the wall. “I’m so mad. I don’t understand why she… whatever the reason, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her.”
Wilhelm looked thoughtful. “Just take it easy. Give it time.”
Simon scoffed. “Time? I’m guessing you were never betrayed by your brother.”
Wilhelm’s gaze dropped to his hands. Simon grimaced, wanting to kick himself. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” Wilhelm replied, even thought he looked dismayed. “I get that you’re hurt, and you have every right to be angry at her… but she’s still your sister.”
“I know,” Simon wrinkled his nose. “Okay, I’m gonna change my clothes. I fell asleep in my uniform.”
“And I’m gonna get some coffee- I mean, food.”
“Me too. I haven’t eaten anything either.”
“Uh-huh, and how come you call me out about skipping meals when you’re doing the same?” Wilhelm asked, feigning indignation. Simon smiled wryly.
“Because I only skipped lunch, but you have barely eaten anything in two days. It’s like you’re on a hunger strike.”
Wilhelm stuck his tongue out at him, before smiling. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Simon said, smiling bigger. He felt a thrill every time they said ‘I love you’, even if it was only over a call.
“Call me if you want to talk, no matter the time.”
“You too.” Simon paused. “Hey, um… thanks for not leaving me alone this time.”
Wilhelm gave him a sad smile. “It’s what I should have done the first time.”
“I don’t care anymore. I’m glad this time you did.”
—
The photographers hadn’t left. In fact they had multiplied.
The house remained dark. Linda peeked through the large window; the neighbors had called asking why there were over fifty people with cameras standing around the area. At least they weren’t at their front door anymore. Linda decided to call the police.
Simon went back to his room and texted Felice that Sara was home, to which she simply replied with the upside-down smiling emoji and a ‘thank you’. Then he texted Rosh and Ayub, telling them that he was okay, all things considered.
Less than a minute later his phone buzzed; Rosh and Ayub popped up on split-screen when he answered.
“Hey, bro. How are you feeling?” Ayub greeted him.
“You want us to come over so you can vent?” Rosh asked. “Ayub and I can stop for ice cream on our way.”
“Don’t come over,” Simon blurted out.
“Why not?” She asked.
Simon rubbed his face, exhausted. “There are… there’s a shit ton of photographers outside my house.”
“What?” Rosh exclaimed.
“What?” Ayub echoed. “You mean like paparazzi?”
“Simon, what the fuck? Is it because of the speech?” Rosh asked.
Simon told them the whole story. As he talked, he saw Ayub put his phone down and start looking for something on his computer.
“I thought about calling you guys for help, but I was tired and felt ill and I just wanted to come home, so I just kept walking.”
Ayub’s mouth fell open. “Fuck, there are paparazzi pictures of you all over Insta and Twitter.”
Simon instantly felt ill again. “What?” Ayub flipped his phone camera to show them his computer screen; multiple Instagram accounts had posted or reposted photos and video clips of him walking in his Hillerska uniform, his hand shielding his face. Some of them were taken from further away, but some were clearly taken inches from his face.
“Shit,” he muttered. He didn’t know what he was expecting; of course all those thousands of photos from every angle that the photographers had taken would end up somewhere, but he guessed he didn’t expected them to be everywhere so soon. The photos were as invasive and unflattering as they had felt.
“There’s captions. ‘Simon Eriksson returns home alone after bombshell statement from Crown Prince boyfriend’. Shit, man, that’s really your front door! ‘Crown Prince’s boyfriend Simon Eriksson takes the bus back home after the Royal Family returns to Stockholm’. This is fucked up.”
“This has to be a violation of your rights or something!” Rosh stated. “Have you told Wille?”
“No, I don’t want him to worry. He has other things in his mind,” Simon said, sitting on his bed. Rosh frowned.
“Fuck that, Simon! Come on! You have to tell him. This is his fault!”
“It’s not his fault!” Simon snapped, his voice louder than he intended. “It’s the fucking paparazzi’s fault. Why the fuck do they have to harass me at my own house?”
“But this is because of his speech! If he hadn’t done that, this wouldn’t be happening!” Rosh retorted.
“Rosh, fucking stop! Stop shitting on Wille! You’re not helping!” Simon shouted, getting angry.
Rosh fell silent. Ayub’s camera flipped back to selfie-mode, his expression uncomfortable. Simon’s shoulders slumped.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry for yelling. I’m just so… ugh, this is so stressful. I hate everything. I feel trapped.”
“I’m sorry too,” Rosh said, looking bitter. “You’re right, it’s not his fault. But I still think you should tell him. He’s going to find out anyway, the pictures are everywhere. And how are you ever going to leave your house if the paparazzi don’t go away? Are they just going to follow you everywhere, and you just have to pretend like you don’t see them? Is this gonna be your life now?”
“Shit, I hope not,” Simon muttered. “You’re right, I should tell him.”
“Maybe he can get security people or something to come over and make them go away, or at least protect you,” Ayub suggested.
“Yeah, Simon, you have to take this seriously. What if they get violent or something, to try to get you to react? They do that, you know. You need protection. We don’t want to have to worry about you. Right?” Rosh said.
Ayub nodded. “Absolutely. That must have been really scary, and I’m guessing it’s not going to get better.”
“My mum is already calling the police,” Simon said.
“Okay but still, tell Wille. He’d probably like to know if something’s going on,” Rosh said, adopting a gentler tone. “And next time call us if you need rescuing. Maybe this whole thing could have been avoided.”
“Yeah, bro. We could have had a whole speed chase-style getaway from the paparazzi. Like Lady Di.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “You know she died trying to get away from paparazzi, right?”
“Oh yeah, bad example,” Ayub said.
“Nah, that was the British monarchy that took her out, wasn’t it? They wanted her dead,” Rosh pointed out.
“Seriously, Rosh? I’m gonna hang up now.”
“I’m telling ya!” Rosh exclaimed.
“Bye Simme!” Ayub said, waving through the screen, before Simon hung up.
—
Simon woke up, startled by the vibration of his phone on his stomach. He fell asleep again shortly after talking to Rosh and Ayub.
It was getting dark. He sat up and looked blearily at the screen. As soon as he answered, Wilhelm’s face popped up.
“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse. Wilhelm looked distressed.
“Why are there paparazzi pictures of you all over social media?!” he asked. Simon dropped his head back, frustrated.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Simon, it looks like they’re right in your face! When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Simon rubbed his eyes. “I was going to tell you… I’m sorry… they were waiting for me outside of school… they followed me to the bus stop, I didn’t know what to do,” he groaned. “They just kept yelling questions and shoving cameras in my face and I just wanted to go home. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t look at them at all. But they followed me, right to my front door.”
Wilhelm’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape. “They followed you home? Simon, when you said you were on the bus on your way home, you didn’t mention you had just been harassed by paparazzi. And when I called you after I got to Stockholm and you were already home, you still… Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I panicked… I didn’t want you to worry… And I thought they would go away…” he admitted, embarrassed.
“Of course I fucking worry! I- they- wait, are they still there?!”
Simon felt tears welling up in his eyes. He nodded.
“How many?”
“I don’t know… about fifty, apparently?”
Wilhelm’s eyes were big as golfballs.
“FUCK!”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t get away from them. I tried.”
“Simon, it’s not that they got you on camera, that’s not why I’m… it’s the fact that you were alone, and they were… they followed you. That’s not safe. You shouldn’t be harassed like that.” He was upset and horrified. “I’m so sorry. Fuck! This is my fault!”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is, I should have thought of this. I should have known that this could happen. And I could have prevented this, gotten someone to drive you home or… I was so caught up on… Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Wille, don’t. Please. I walked into them. I saw them, and I still kept going. I should have gone to the headmistress or something.”
”Well, yeah, but…” Wilhelm was sullen. “Yeah… you should have asked for help, or called me right away, but… still, I should have thought of this, and I should have made sure you didn’t have to go through that. I’m so sorry, Simon.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Can we just agree to be equally sorry?”
At least that got a smile out of Wilhelm. Simon admitted that the whole experience was a bit traumatizing, but he still didn’t tell Wilhelm about suffering a full panic attack in the bus. Wilhelm was horrified and said that it sounded like a horror film.
“My mum called the police. I have no idea if they’re on their way or if they’re already here.”
“Okay, let me know if the police get there,” Wilhelm said. “I’m going to talk to mum about it, see if we can send a security detail over to you. It’s the least we could do. We need to make sure they leave you alone. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”
“Okay, I love you.”
“I love you too. Don’t worry, I’ll sort this out. Please stay safe.”
—
On TV, the story was making the rounds on local, national and even international news programs.
Simon had ventured out of his room to grab a sandwich and sit in front of the TV in the living room. It was time to brave the coverage beyond social media; he’d already been on a downward spiral in his room, seeing every single paparazzi picture repeatedly, stills from the sex video and the speech video, and even photos that had been taken from his Instagram before he made his profile private; TikTok and Youtube videos of people analyzing Wilhelm’s speech and decrying the violation of their privacy; and tweet after tweet that caused the hashtag #CrownPrinceWilhelm to trend globally.
Sara was in her room, her door closed. Linda was in her room too, still on the phone either with the police or with neighbors; it seemed the police had come by whilst Simon slept, but said that there was not much they could do, since the photographers were not doing anything wrong, so she was going to try to file a report on the paparazzi pictures of Simon, considering he was still a minor.
Simon sat by himself, flipping through the channels. Journalists were reporting live from outside Drottningholm palace, talking about the events since Wilhelm’s speech; every once in a while the same video reel would cycle through as news anchors spoke over it: edits from social media of the different angles captured by the few Hillerska students who recorded the speech, a short clip from the sex video (not surprising), footage of the cars carrying the Royal Family away from Hillerska, clips and pictures of Simon as he exited Hillerska, and videos of the paparazzi following him.
”Shit,” he muttered under his breath through a mouthful of sandwich.
“… celebration was cut short, and the Crown Prince returned to Drottningholm Palace here in Stockholm around midday today with the Queen and Prince Consort. No official Royal House statement has been issued as of yet, but the Office of Communications is expected to make a public statement some time tomorrow…” said a man in one channel. Simon switched to the next.
“… said that he had lied last year when he denied being in the video, because it had been a private moment that had been made public, but now decided to come clean about it…” a woman in the other channel was saying. Simon switched again.
“… assume that he is, or at least was, involved with the other boy who appears in the video, Simon Eriksson, a classmate at Hillerska…” a man in the other channel was saying over the paparazzi pictures and video of him.
Simon muted the TV. Rosh and Ayub were in the group chat asking him if he had talked to Wilhelm, or if the paparazzi had left.
He nearly dropped his phone when it started buzzing. Wilhelm’s disappointed face popped up on his screen.
“Hi,” Simon still greeted him with a smile.
“Hey,” Wilhelm said. He was lying in bed. “I’m sorry, I talked to my mum and… she says there’s nothing she can do.”
Simon knew that was probably going to be the answer, but his stomach still sank. “Oh, okay…”
“She says that security details are only for Royal family members,” Wilhelm explained, frowning. “I know she can actually do something, I know special security can be requested for other people, but she won’t do it. When I said that I could go to your house and my security guards might make the photographers go away, she… she shouted at me that I was not going anywhere. Maybe I am being held hostage,” he added bitterly. “I tried requesting the security detail myself, but the Royal Court says that my mum has the final word in the matter. I asked Malin and Joakim if they could go back to Bjärstad and protect you if I requested it, but they said that they’re not allowed to protect anyone else but me, and that orders would have to come from the Royal Court.”
Simon should have known. The Queen and the Royal Court didn’t like him, they didn’t like that he had anything to do with Wilhelm. They wouldn’t do anything that meant attracting attention to the fact that they were together.
Were they together? They had barely been reunited for a whole day when they had been wrenched apart again.
“It’s okay, Wille. Thank you for trying. It’ll be fine, I’m sure they’ll go away at some point, and things will calm down.”
“Did the police at least come?”
“Yeah, but but they said that they can’t do much, since photographers are not disrupting public order, or blocking traffic, or trespassing on private property, or doing anything wrong. My mum is still talking to them.”
Wilhelm rubbed his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Simon offered a small smile.
“Don’t worry. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Maybe tomorrow they will all be gone.”
“Yeah, maybe… I just really wish I could help you… I wish my mum cared at least a little…”
“I understand if she can’t do anything-”
“No, Simon, it’s not that she can’t do anything, she won’t, because she doesn’t care. She doesn’t even care about me, so sure, why would she care about you?”
“She does care about you, Wille.”
“I doubt it.”
“Your mum loves you,” Simon said, because that was the thing he should say in this moment, but he honestly didn’t know. Did the Queen love her son? She was his mother, of course she loved him… didn’t she?
“Wow, if this is how she shows me love, I’d hate to be disliked by her,” Wilhelm chuckled mirthlessly. His eyes were glistening with tears. “You should have seen the way she looked at me. She treated me like I was hysterical. I wasn’t. Sure, I was anxious and urgent, but I asked politely, I said I was concerned about your safety… and she still turned me away, like I was asking, demanding something too big,” he scoffed. “It’s like she wants to teach me a lesson. She said ‘what did you expect to happen’ like I should just suck it up and deal with it. And she… she calls you ‘that boy’, like she doesn’t know your name. Like she refuses to say it.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you get caught in our fucking drama. I hate this. I hate everything.”
“It’s okay… don’t stress about it. Maybe it’s too soon. Like you said, maybe she needs time,” Simon said, unsure. Wilhelm let out a deep sigh and sat up on his bed. He propped his head up on his elbow, his hand half-covering his face.
“We’re both trapped,” he mumbled into his hand. “I guess I wouldn’t mind being trapped if at least we were together.”
“I agree,” Simon hummed. “I wish you could be here.”
“Me too, but I have to be here to attend the Royal Court meetings. Oh, wait, I’m not even doing that,” Wilhelm said sardonically, rolling his eyes. “If anything I wish you were here with me, I should have smuggled you in the trunk of the car.”
Simon chuckled. “For a two hour drive? Is that how you would treat your boyfriend?”
Wilhelm’s face lit up, and Simon felt his cheeks warm. He couldn’t remember if they had ever referred to each other as ‘boyfriends’. They hadn’t talked about it, but it felt pretty natural all of a sudden. It was thrilling on the one hand, and sad on the other, that the first time he was aware of using the word, it was in this situation, far from each other. But he couldn’t help smiling at Wilhelm’s reaction.
“If it were up to me, we wouldn’t even be here or there. We’d be somewhere far away, somewhere nice and warm, just you and me,” Wilhelm said. Simon smiled bigger, forgetting momentarily that that was a pipe dream.
“That sounds nice,” he said anyway. Wilhelm smiled, then looked to the side of the screen. Someone was talking to him.
“I have to go, my dad’s here,” he said after a pause. “I will be back soon, no matter what.”
“I hope so.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Simon shut off the call, feeling a bit better. About sixty new messages came in while he was on the phone. Simon groaned; he started blocking people and deleting message threads.
He came across Sara’s message again and deleted it. Whatever she had to say to him, whatever lame explanation and apology she wanted to offer him, she could very well come out of her room and say it to his face.
—
Simon barely slept that night. He kept hearing things, being hyper-aware of any noise, and thinking that someone was trying to get inside the house. Whenever he managed to almost fall asleep, he’d have lucid dreams; Wilhelm laying next to him in bed, waking up next to each other, but then he’d become aware that it wasn’t real, it was just a memory, and he’d wake up and he’d be alone. He tried using the sweater to trick his mind, to pretend that Wilhelm was there, but he was too restless and anxious, so it didn’t work. Tired and frustrated, he cried himself to sleep for a measly hour of actual rest. When he woke up, it wasn’t light out yet, so he just lay in bed staring up at the ceiling.
—
In the morning, the photographers were still around. Their numbers had dwindled during the night; the few that remained overnight had slept in cars parked in the distance, according to one of the neighbors. But they all came back.
Linda called the school to inform them that Simon and Sara would miss class that day, and the clinic to excuse herself from work, refusing to leave them alone. Their names and their house were plastered all over the news, so lying and saying they were all sick was out of the question. Instead she explained that there were ‘circumstances beyond their control that didn’t allow them to leave the house for the day’, which was a vague way of saying that paparazzi kept them under siege at home.
Simon felt sorry that his mother had to miss work. However, he didn’t feel sorry about not staying home alone with Sara; he also didn’t lament not going to school and being scrutinized by his classmates and possibly having to put up with a lot of questions, to which he didn’t even know the answers. Besides, Wilhelm wouldn’t be there.
Sara came out of her room to put her empty bowl of oatmeal in the kitchen sink and promptly went back inside. Simon had barely seen her since yesterday, and she hadn’t spoken another word in his presence since; as far as he knew she had barely left her room.
Simon spent most of the day in bed, dozing off, occasionally watching the news and going through social media. Reporters were interviewing people in the growing crowd outside of Drottningholm palace; LGBTQ+ groups gathered with signs and rainbow flags, asking if the Royal Court were hiding Wilhelm for coming out, and demanding that both he and Simon should be protected. On Twitter, people were questioning if the Swedish monarchy would ever accept a queer crown prince.
Simon stared at the live feed from Stockholm, wondering where in Drottningholm palace could Wilhelm be. Somewhere inside that massive building there was a sad prince sitting alone in his room.
Felice texted him later; she had seen the paparazzi pictures on social media, but hadn’t realized it was so bad that he couldn’t leave his house. Simon told her that it was much like the video all over again.
- 8:40 - Wilhelm says he feels like a hostage in his house too, Simon texted.
- 8:42 - Yeah, I know… we texted a bit this morning and he said the same thing, Felice replied.
- 8:45 - Things will probably calm down once the Royal House issues a statement, she added.
That did not appease him; he worried what that statement, whenever it finally came out, would say.
Wilhelm called him later, to tell him that he had been bypassed for the morning meeting as well.
“I told Jan-Olof that I want to be in the meetings, but I’m not going until my mum asks me herself to come. And she hasn’t,” he stated dejectedly. He looked just as tired as Simon; his eyes were puffy, with dark circles underneath. “She doesn’t care that I’m not at the meeting, she doesn’t want me there. So what’s the point? She won’t listen even if I’m there. But if I go to the meeting uninvited or just leave and go back to Hillerska, either way she’ll claim that I’m proving her right, that I haven’t changed, that I’m still impulsive and temperamental and incapable of controlling my emotions. It’s not fair, because she’s the one being temperamental right now.”
Simon felt sick. How long was this going to go on for?
“Wille, what if they put out a statement without your consent? What if they claim that it’s from you?”
“They won’t. If they put out anything that I didn’t approve, I’ll just go live on social media and make my own statement. There are people protesting outside the palace, saying that they think I’m being hidden away because the Royal Court wants to deny that I’m queer,” Wilhelm said. “They need me. It’s just a matter of time for her to realize that they can’t make this go away. Not without me,” Wilhelm reassured him. It sounded like he was also trying to reassure himself.
Simon told him about his restless night, and Wilhelm admitted that he too barely slept that night.
“I had a nightmare,” he said. “I came back to Bjärstad, and I went to your house to find you, but you were gone. So were Linda and Sara, and all your stuff. The house was empty. And I knew that you had been taken, but I didn’t know where or by whom, and I didn’t know what to do. I had the horrible feeling that I would never see you again. Then August appeared, and he said something like ‘yeah, that’s been taken care of’, like he was behind it, and I was about to hit him, but there was an invisible… thing protecting him. And then it was dark and I was alone, and I walked back to Hillerska but I had to go through the forest, and someone or something was chasing me… and then I woke up. And I couldn’t go back to sleep at all.”
Like Simon, Wilhelm spent most of the day in bed. He had started writing a journal, a suggestion from Boris, which he joked would be useful when he wrote his memoirs in the future and had to look back at the worst episodes of his life. Simon asked him about his therapy sessions with Boris, and Wilhelm’s face turned pink as he told him as much as he could; how and why he started going, and how it was working out so far; it wasn’t just because his mother asked him to go, because Wilhelm himself knew that he had to deal with his anxiety and anger, before they exploded in his face. And he couldn’t work those issues out on his own.
“I mean, you saw me, I felt so sick that I had to leave in the middle of class and throw up in my room, I held a gun to August’s head, and I had a panic attack after the speech. All in one weekend. I’m a nutcase,” Wilhelm gave a self-deprecating chuckle.
“You’re not a nutcase,” Simon reassured him. “You simply didn’t know how to deal with these things, how to talk about them.”
“And everything about last year… I just got worse,” Wilhelm said sadly. “But I don’t want to feel sick and anxious and angry all the time anymore.”
“And you shouldn’t. I’m glad you finally did something about it.”
“I still have a way to go, but… I’m glad I did too,” Wilhelm said, smiling. “You know, if it hadn’t been for you and Boris, I maybe wouldn’t have dared to do that. At the jubilee, I mean.”
Simon felt something warm but painful in his chest. He wanted to kiss and hug Wilhelm, and it hurt that he couldn’t, that they were so far apart. He felt an overwhelming longing in his whole body.
Wilhelm went quiet for a long moment.
“Was it a mistake? To change the speech? I mean, to do it in front of everybody? Should I not have done that?” He asked, looking suddenly lost. Simon breathed deeply.
“I think it’s pointless to think about that, because you can’t undo it, but well, Felice thought it was romantic, and I agree,” he chuckled, blushing a little, making Wilhelm smile. “I also think that, when you follow your heart, you can’t make mistakes.”
He gazed at Wilhelm through the screen. “But I really meant it, Wille, that we could be together in secret. I just want to be with you. I hadn’t realized how complicated it can be, but… being with you in any form is definitely better than not being with you at all.”
Wilhelm smiled sadly. “I agree. But… I realized I didn’t want that for us: for one thing, who’s to say that my mother would have kept that promise? I think she hoped that something might happen before we turn eighteen that would change things, like you getting tired of being a secret. And I think she still hopes that I will eventually ‘grow out of it’, that this is just a phase.” He looked hurt. “Also, you don’t deserve to be a secret. I don’t want that, I don’t want us to be secret.”
Simon raised an eyebrow and smiled. “So you shouted it from the rooftops. Or rather a podium, into a microphone, in front of a crowd and cameras,” he said. Wilhelm blushed.
“Just that one time,” he retorted, then became serious again. “That wasn’t so much for dramatic purposes, but to make sure that no one can pretend like it didn’t happen. It’s not that I want the world knowing every detail about us, I don’t want to be public about our relationship and for people to watch like it’s entertainment. But it’s not fair that others get to just be themselves, and I have to hide…? I don’t want to hide. I don’t want us to be a secret, and I don’t want us to be in the spotlight… I just want us to be… us.”
Simon wanted to kiss him so bad it hurt. “I want that too,” he said, his voice breaking a little.
—
Around midday, they were on video call again. Wilhelm had texted Farima asking her about the progress of the meeting, wanting to know when he could go back to Hillerska.
“My mum told Farima to tell me that I could go home whenever I please,” he scoffed. “Then what was the point of bringing me here? I’m this close to leaving for real. But I bet if I do, she’ll use that against me somehow, she’ll claim that I don’t care about my role as Crown Prince. But if I don’t leave, then I’m just trapped here waiting for them to decide stuff for me. Either way I’m fucked.”
“What are you gonna do, then?” Simon asked. He was stretched across the floor of his bedroom staring up at Wilhelm in his phone.
“I don’t know… I kind of want to barge into the meeting. But I really hoped that she would ask me to come, that she would talk to me… But I don’t think she wants to… she won’t listen to me, it’s like she can’t even look at me…”
Simon wished he could cheer him up. Wilhelm promised that he ate a bit of soup for lunch, but confessed that that was about it.
“That’s okay, I don’t have much appetite either,” Simon replied.
—
Linda tried coddling him a little. She came into his room and sat beside him on the bed and stroked his curls.
“Mi amor, ¿quieres algo? ¿Sodita, galletitas, juguito…?” she offered in a sweet voice, much like she had when Simon was cooped up at home when the video was leaked, and when he found out about the interview with Wilhelm denying the video. It was an unpleasant reminder.
That wasn’t going to happen this time, he told himself. Wilhelm wouldn’t do that again. Not after everything they had gone through. Not after getting another chance.
“No, gracias,” he replied in a tired voice. “I’m just going to bed soon.”
Linda worried about them not being able to leave the house again tomorrow, wondering how long this would go on. She talked to herself aloud, pondering the different options that she could try: a lawyer, a local government official, social services, anything.
“¿Y cómo está Wille?” She asked.
Simon glanced at his phone. They had been talking on the phone all day, texting, calling each other, seeing each other by video call; but the more they tried to stay in touch, the harder it was for Simon to ignore the distance, the circumstances keeping them apart. And he knew how hard it was for Wilhelm too. He just wanted to reach through the screen and hold him, feel him.
”I’m worried about him,” Simon muttered. “He’s under a lot of pressure. And he’s all alone. I don’t know what to do. I wish I could help him. I wish I could… make it all go away.”
“Yo sé, mi amor,” Linda said, petting his hair tenderly. Simon started crying, letting himself be comforted by his mother.
—
Simon had lost track of time, but he was sure it was much earlier than he thought. Still, he and Wilhelm were both in their respective beds, falling asleep on the phone. They were exhausted, despite not doing anything all day, just coping with the stress and the uncertainty.
“I’m so tired. I just want to sleep, and wake up and for all of this to be over,” Wilhelm mumbled into the pillow. He was lying on his side, his phone propped on another pillow. Simon lay on his side as well, mirroring Wilhelm, to pretend that they were on the same bed, side by side, looking at each other. His phone rested against the side of his bedside table. He had the red light on.
“I have a plan,” he announced with a mischievous smile, “to rescue you: Rosh and Ayub create a distraction, and I sneak out of the house and steal a photographer’s car, and drive to Stockholm. I don’t know how to drive though, but I’ll figure it out. I pick you up and we run off to Spain. I speak Spanish, so we’ll be fine. You become a truffle hunter and I work as a flamenco singer. Or we open a tapas bar. When we’re older, we’ll have a vineyard. You will probably have to go by Guillermo, though, which is the Spanish version of your name.”
Wilhelm laughed. They stared at each other through heavy-lidded eyes, fighting to stay awake.
“I’m coming back tomorrow, no matter what,” Wilhelm said, talking slowly and quietly. “I want to come home. I don’t want to be here anymore… And I just want to see you, I just want to be with you…” He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “I’m just worried that, if I leave, it’s going to make it worse… I don’t know what to do about the Royal Court, and I don’t know what to do about the photographers outside your house… What if everything blows up when I leave? What if they try to drag me out of Hillerska again?”
“In that case, I steal Jan-Olof’s car and we go to Spain,” Simon joked. Wilhelm chuckled again, but quickly became sad again.
“This was an absolute waste of time… She makes me come here, and then she doesn’t even want to see me. Does she even give a shit about me? I don’t know what I was expecting… I don’t know what I was hoping for…”
Simon didn’t say anything. Wilhelm didn’t want his boyfriend reassuring him that his mother loved him, he just wanted to vent. If anything, he needed his mother to reassure him that she loved him, that she did care about him. Simon couldn’t do that for her. All he could do was listen right now.
Wilhelm’s eyes glistened in the dim light. “I know I said that they support me… that’s what my mum told me, at least, but… I don’t think she does. I think my dad’s a bit more okay with it, we haven’t really talked about it, but it feels like maybe he is. But my mum… if she says she supports me coming out, it might just be to protect the Crown’s image, but… I think she wishes that I wasn’t queer…”
A tear slid out of his eyes and ran across the bridge of his nose. Simon felt his throat tightening and his eyes becoming misty.
“I always felt like she loved Erik more… he was everything that she wanted, or at least what she needed him to be. And I was this… this kid she had to put up with, because she needed to have a spare… I know that we often clash because of how I am and because of how she is, so it’s always been difficult for us to get along, but she’s my mother and I love her, and I need her… but when Erik… when I became Crown Prince, it was… like a chore for her, to try to guide me into the role, knowing that I would never be as perfect as Erik…” He gulped, more tears sliding out of his eyes and onto the pillow. “So for me to turn out to be queer, I think that’s the last drop for her… I get that maybe it’s hard for her, but… she acts like I’m inconveniencing her, like I’m doing this on purpose to… upset her or something… and for her to make August my backup, knowing what he did to me, to us, knowing what he’s like… it’s like she’s trying to punish me…”
He closed his eyes, and a shuddering breath escaped him. “I know it was hard for her to lose Erik, because… fuck… it was hard for me too… but… I was kind of hoping that some of her… affection for him, would transfer to me somewhat, make things at least a bit different between us… I’m the only son she has left, you know, but… I think that maybe she only loves me because she’s my mother, and she kind of has to love me, but beyond that…”
Simon wiped his own eyes with the back of his hand, although his pillow was already soaked with tears.
He had always wanted Wilhelm to be honest with him; he realized that Wilhelm had likely never been this candid about his feelings, because of his upbringing. But listening to him now made it more evident why it had always been so hard for him to be honest about his feelings; because it was probably not cathartic at all. It was simply coming face to face with them, but not being able to change anything.
More than anything, he hoped that Wilhelm was wrong.
Simon couldn’t imagine growing up like that, feeling like Linda loved Sara more than him, feeling like his older sister’s spare and nothing more. And he didn’t want to imagine what it would be like for Linda not to love him, not accept him as he was.
Maybe Linda simply had more time to adjust, since Simon had been out longer; or maybe it was just harder for Wilhelm’s mum because of what it meant for the monarchy. Or maybe Wilhelm was wrong, maybe his mother did love him, no matter what, and she simply didn’t show it very effectively. The fact of the matter was that Wilhelm grew up feeling unloved.
It wasn’t fair.
Simon fought to stay awake, staring at Wilhelm’s face. Wilhelm had already drifted off to sleep.
“I love you,” he whispered, even if Wilhelm didn’t hear him or say it back. He cried softly to himself, watching Wilhelm’s sleeping face, until he finally dozed off too.
—
When Simon woke up, the screen of his phone was black. It was eleven at night. He reached for the phone; the call had been ended by Wilhelm around four hours earlier, about an hour after they had both fallen asleep.
He checked his messages. Surely enough, he had messages from Wilhelm. He read them and smiled.
- 7:17 - My mum just woke me up to talk. I’ll call you in the morning. I love you
- 9:15 - Hey, we’ll talk in the morning, but it went better than I expected.
- 9:16 - Minou will contact your mum about security escorting you to school tomorrow, so be ready.
- 9:18 - I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I think everything is going to be okay.
- 9:18 - I’ll talk to you after the meeting in the morning. I love you. *heart emoji*
—
In the morning, Linda got a call from Minou, that lady in the Royal Court, to let her know the names of the security personnel that would come by the Eriksson house to pick up Simon, the time, the make and model of the car, etc.
Simon’s stomach was in knots in the morning. Linda looked equally nervous as she made breakfast, which Simon was too nauseated to eat, so she put some fruit and yogurt in his backpack for later.
Sara was refusing to go to school that day, so Linda was arguing with her in her room when the car arrived. Through the closed blinds and curtains he could still see the bursts of white light from the camera flashes, and he heard voices telling the photographers to back off. The doorbell rang.
Linda rushed out of Sara’s room, exasperated, saying in very fast Spanish that Sara was refusing to go to school and that maybe he could convince her to come with him in the car. She called out to the people outside that she was coming.
“Mamá, she can do whatever she wants, it’s not my problem right now,” Simon said. Linda threw up her arms.
“I don’t know what’s going on between you two, or why you both refuse to tell me about it, but I sincerely hope you work it out. You can’t be mad at each other forever. You’re supposed to support each other.”
Simon rolled his eyes and put on his purple hoodie and slung on his backpack. Under different circumstances he would have been sardonic, but he didn’t have time for Sara’s shit right now. He was jittery and stressed; he was about to step out of his home, into a strange car, surrounded by strangers, and possibly be sieged by a horde of photographers again. He started to sweat and shiver at the mere thought of it. His palms were clammy. Maybe he was traumatized.
His mother put on a brave smile and pulled him into a hug. “Mi amor, please call me if you need me,” she said. “Please talk to the headmistress if you need anything. Just… be safe, okay? Te quiero.”
“Yo también te quiero,” he said.
Linda opened the door, and a large blond man in a dark suit stepped right in front of them, presumably to hide them from view of the photographers. Two other people in suits, a dark-skinned man and a dark-haired white woman, were by the car, which was blocking the path to the house, and were keeping the photographers at bay.
“Mr. Eriksson,” the man greeted him stoically, and Simon nodded in response. The man introduced himself as Kurt, showed them his ID and informed Linda that they would contact her when Simon arrived at Hillerska safely. He instructed her to close the door as soon as they left, then told Simon to put his hood up and to follow his instructions.
Simon was breathing hard as he stepped out. Kurt put a hand on his shoulder and led him toward the black car with dark tinted windows. Camera flashes went off in rapid succession, but he kept his head down, and Kurt kept his other hand up in front of Simon’s face, to shield him and block the cameras. He heard the photographers yelling questions, but he was focused on Kurt.
It felt like it took forever to reach the car, but suddenly Kurt was guiding him into the backseat door. The woman slid into the backseat beside Simon, while the men got in the front. Simon wondered how Kurt would be able to drive with all the flashing lights, but the windows of the car were so dark that it didn’t bother them. He kept his hood up, just in case, looking down, trying to calm down. His hands trembled in his lap, but as they drove away, and the photographers fruitlessly chased after them, he felt better.
Wilhelm texted him at that instant. Simon looked at his phone and smiled despite feeling ill.
- 8:01 - I’m officially in the Royal Court meeting. Hope everything went well. Text me when you get to school. I love you.
—
He should have known that people at school would be weird.
Headmistress Lilja was waiting for him when he arrived, mollycoddling him, asking if he was okay, saying that her door is always open and that he can always ask for her help with anything and so on.
Unfortunately many saw him arrive in a black, tinted windows car and escorted by security and welcomed and fussed at by the headmistress, so it spread through the school like a wildfire.
Felice seemed to be the only one who wasn’t weird, although she did hug him when she met him outside their first class; it was still a bit odd being so friendly with her. But at least it was someone to talk to, someone who knew the whole story.
Especially when Sara showed up. Simon was sure she had managed to convince Linda to let her stay at home, but there she was. She must have left the house as soon as the car drew all of the photographers away, and caught the bus in time.
Sara walked past them into the classroom, head down, eyes averted, as if trying to get by unnoticed. Simon glared at her for a moment, then ignored her. Felice looked annoyed. “Do you want to sit together?” She asked, and he nodded immediately.
Their classmates had no chill, however. Everyone stared when he came in, and either greeted him or turned to whisper to each other. He clenched his jaw as he took his seat next to Felice. He glanced over at Sara; she sat next to Alexander, who also looked mildly unwell upon Simon’s arrival.
“Hey, you’re back!” Henry exclaimed, patting Simon on the back. Simon waved his hand, his smile tight, but the interaction didn’t end there. Everyone nonchalantly crowded around him in a sort of huddle.
“We heard you were abducted by the monarchy,” Henry said. Stella smacked him on the back of the head.
“Yes, that’s exactly what happened,” Simon responded dryly.
“Wait, really?” Henry asked, mildly shocked. Simon shot him a look, and everyone rolled their eyes. Stella smacked him again.
“Why are you so dumb? He’s obviously being sarcastic, and also you saw the paparazzi pictures and the videos of his house surrounded by them,” Walter said.
Henry shrugged. “I thought maybe that was before he was abducted. So Wille wasn’t with you?”
“Wille is in Stockholm, dumbass,” Stella quipped from behind them.
“When is he coming back?” Lukas asked.
“Is he coming back?” Walter asked skeptically.
“Is he okay? Are you okay?” Madison asked, the only one who sounded actually concerned.
“So are you guys a couple now?” Fredrika quipped enthusiastically.
“Fredrika, don’t ask personal questions,” Felice snapped.
“I’m just curious. I mean, what Wille said is all over the Internet, but what did he even mean? What does it mean for you and him?”
“It’s still none of our business,” Felice said.
Simon wished he had stayed home. His eyes drifted to Sara again. It was strange not talking to her.
He wished Wilhelm were there. He was finally included in a Royal Court meeting, so he probably wouldn’t hear from him for a while, and it was both nerve-wracking and disheartening.
He felt odd, adrift.
—
Simon knew that people were talking about him, about Wilhelm, about him and Wilhelm. Surely they had been talking about them since Sunday and by now should be sick of them and moving on to the next thing. But now that he was back, the fire was rekindled; people stared at him wherever he went, people would be talking about it and becoming quiet when they saw him, some people were uncharacteristically nice and polite to him.
In the library he overheard a group of second year boys and girls murmuring in the next aisle, unaware that he was within earshot.
“… not put out a statement yet, what do you think that means?”
“It’s like he went mental. What was up with that speech?”
“And is he even coming back? That other kid, Simon, is back.”
“Did you see the photos? What the fuck? They followed him to his house and just parked there for two days? Fucking creepy.”
“I saw him arrive today in a black car surrounded by security.”
“Wait, what? They escort him now? What does that mean?”
“It might mean that that speech was way a bigger deal than we thought, then.”
“So what are they, like a couple now? When did that even happen?”
“Excellent question. I thought they only hooked up that once. Which by the way, getting caught on video… that sucks.”
“But how is that even going to work? Them being a couple, I mean.”
“That’s what they’re saying in the news and on Twitter. Is the monarchy even going to accept the Crown Prince marrying a boy?”
“Marrying? They’re babies! I seriously doubt they’re thinking about that right now. ”
“Well the monarchy probably has to think about everything, including that.”
“It’s ridiculous. If they‘re even together at all, and I’m guessing maybe they are then, then it’s been a very short time.”
“A few months, surely, we just didn’t know about it.”
“But that’s nothing! Anything could change at any time, they’re only kids.”
“I know, right? What do they even know about relationships?”
“Oh, says the weathered and experienced adult.”
“Fuck off, Sanna.”
Simon left the library quietly. At least they weren’t saying anything mean. But hearing people gossiping about him and Wilhelm was unsettling.
He headed to the Forest Ridge dining hall for lunch and paused to let someone else through, then looked up. It was August.
How he had failed to recognize the lanky third year towering over him was beyond him, but obviously August was lost in his own thoughts and failed to notice him too.
Whatever his face was doing, Simon guessed his expression was unfriendly enough to make August look away. The older boy awkwardly gestured for him to go first. Simon didn’t move, so August hesitated before ambling into the dining hall.
Simon felt his face grow hot, his jaw tense, and his stomach flip. The events from Saturday came flooding back; the way that August had looked so smug at him, before Wilhelm made him kneel and held him at gunpoint, the sound of the gunshot in the air echoing through the field, Wilhelm shouting, and Sara’s miserable voice…
He started trembling with rage.
“Hey,” a voice interrupted his spiraling. Simon looked up at Nils, who stood in front of him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?” Simon said flatly.
“You look like you’re about to snap.”
“I’m fine.”
“Look, I get it, these past couple of days must have been tough. And people won’t let it go. It’s probably a lot.”
Simon frowned at him. Past couple of days? People really didn’t know, they literally had no idea, that it had now been months of hell, from the night the video appeared everywhere, to Wilhelm denying it, to breaking up, to spending all of winter break not being able to stop thinking about Wilhelm, to seeing him again in January and trying to get over him and failing fantastically, to almost getting back together only for August to sabotage everything, to Sara… This was only the continuation of all of that. But he wasn’t about to explain it to one of August’s friends.
“No, you don’t get it,” Simon simply stated, walking past Nils into the dining hall.
—
His phone buzzed with an incoming text message during lunch. Simon stopped playing with his food and read it. A huge smile split his face.
- 12:30 - I’m coming back later today‼! Do you think you could stay at Hillerska until I get back? I really want to be able to tell you everything in person. We can drive you home afterwards.
- 12:32 - It’s okay if you can’t. Although I’ll probably go nuts if I don’t get to see you soon. *meltdown emoji*
Simon felt a jolt of electricity go through his body.
- 12:33 - YES. Of course I’ll stay. *heart emoji* I can’t wait to see you too.
- 12:33 - *heart emoji* *heart emoji*, Wilhelm replied.
His focus really went out the window, thinking about seeing Wilhelm at the end of the day. He was still uneasy, though. Wilhelm’s text made it sound like he had good news, but Simon didn’t want to get his hopes up. He told Felice the news and she reassured him, saying she had a good feeling about it.
The rest of the day felt insufferably long. Someone must have overheard him and Felice talking, and by his last class, most people had already heard that Wilhelm was coming back, so he kept getting asked about it. The only thing that kept him going were Wilhelm’s little updates throughout the day: the meeting is almost over! I’m going to my room to pack as fast as I can‼ I’m almost done packing… I finished packing‼! I’m heading downstairs to say goodbye to my parents… All punctuated with a flurry of heart emojis. His corniness was endearing.
After his last class, he headed to the library for some peace and quiet, to kill time while he waited for Wilhelm. He walked past the picnic tables. Sara had been sitting by herself at one of them and stood up when she spotted him. His smile faded.
“Hey,” she said, sounding breathless, even though she had been sitting down. Like she had been psyching herself up to approach him, and yet she could barely hold his gaze. Simon stared at her.
“I need to talk to you,” she added.
He was quiet. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something, anything. But he just stared at her.
“Simon?” Sara said tentatively. “I… please?”
“I’m waiting. Talk.”
His voice was sharp, impatient. She bit her lip and pushed her hair nervously behind her ear.
“Well… I… I think we should probably talk at home,” she stammered.
“I’m not going home,” he responded. She looked flummoxed.
“What?”
“Didn’t you hear? Wille’s getting back today, so I’m gonna stay here and wait for him.”
“Oh.”
“So I guess whatever you have to say will have to wait.”
She shuffled from one foot to the other.
“It’s… it’s important,” she mumbled.
“Is it? I’m not sure if we agree on what is important anymore,” he sneered. “For example, I thought I was important to you.”
Her lower lip trembled, and huge tears welled up in her eyes.
“Simon, please,” she said softly. He felt his own eyes begin to fill with hot angry tears.
Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Not now, he told himself. Instead he gave a loud sigh and his shoulders slumped.
“Do you remember when you told me to stop giving people a chance?” He asked, glaring at her through narrowed eyes, even when her face was wet with tears, even when she looked miserable. “Thanks for the advice,” he managed to get out, his voice breaking.
A couple of second years walked past them, staring not very subtly. Simon looked away, unnerved.
“Simon…” she begged. Simon shook his head. Not now. Not right now.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said flatly, walking away, before she could get a chance to see him cry.
—
It felt like time slowed down. Simon was alone in the library, staring at the texts from Wilhelm.
- 4:05 - I’m on my way! *confetti emoji*
- 4:06 - We’re gonna stop on the way to get food. We can skip the dining hall and eat in my room and talk. What are you in the mood for?
Simon wasn’t in the mood for anything, he felt a little sick again after his encounter with Sara.
He had texted his mum to let her know that he was staying, and she informed him that the photographers had mostly vanished, after he left for school; only one or two lingered, probably hoping to capture him when he was supposed to return home.
He felt overall sick about everything, about the photographers, about the news and social media incessantly talking about him and Wilhelm, about people gossiping about them around every corner, about Sara, about August, about the Royal Court, about not knowing what was going to happen now.
All he wanted was to be with Wilhelm. All he wanted was for everyone to leave them alone, let them be.
- 4:10 - I don’t know. Whatever you like, I’m good, he texted in response.
There was a beat, and Wilhelm wrote back.
- 4:12 - Is everything okay?
No, everything was not okay. He hadn’t slept well, he was tired and nauseated.
Everything felt too big and tumultuous and he didn’t know how to deal with any of it. He felt anxious and scared and lonely and lost.
But then he remembered Wilhelm at the podium, the way he looked back at Simon and smiled. And Simon smiled to himself.
- 4:13 - Just hurry up and get here‼! *heart emoji*
He wasn’t keeping a secret from Wilhelm. Because every time he felt like things were not okay, he just needed to remember that they loved each other, and that made him hopeful, that no matter how bad things could get, everything would be okay in the end, as long as they had each other.
- 4:13 - *heart emoji* *heart emoji* *heart emoji* *heart emoji* *heart emoji* Wilhelm replied.
Simon chuckled to himself as he plugged his headphones into his phone and put on a music playlist. The library was deserted and quiet enough that he might be able to nap if he really tried. So he set an alarm to wake him up in two hours, then folded his arms on the table and laid his head on them.
If it was going to feel like forever before Wilhelm got there, he might as well try to sleep.
—
The school was deserted. Simon walked around the halls, the classrooms, the library, the grounds, but found no one. There was absolutely nobody around, no students, no teachers, no staff… he was all alone…
He walked to the main door, looking for Wilhelm, because he knew he should have been there by now. For whatever reason he kept going, right out of the main door and through the gate, and all the way down the road, past the bus stop… To his relief, there were no photographers waiting for him, but he felt like he was being watched…
He kept walking, not knowing where he was going, feeling, hoping that somewhere along the way he would meet Wilhelm. And as he went, a feeling of dread filled him, like he was lost. He couldn’t recognize anything around him, it was forest all around, and he didn’t know where he would end up, or how he would be able to find his way again…
Deep down he knew that whoever was watching him was behind it, someone who wanted to make sure that he got lost and remained lost.
He trembled, with cold, with fear, he didn’t know for sure. Despite feeling tired and scared, he kept going.
Somehow he was back at Hillerska again. He walked through the gate, and saw him. Wilhelm was standing near the entrance, looking around for him. Simon smiled in relief and called his name, but Wilhelm didn’t hear him. Simon tried calling him again, and again, but to no avail. He walked toward him but got nowhere near. He started running, but it was like he was running on mud, unable to propel himself forward. And Wilhelm kept looking for him, unable to see him…
He was breathing hard and fast, terrified, and there was a ringing in his ear, like he was having a panic attack…
—
Simon woke up with a start, breathing hard. The ringing in his ears was the alarm that had gone off in his headphones. His neck hurt from falling asleep hunched over the table. He turned off the alarm and looked around. The library was still empty.
He groaned, frustrated and in pain. With trepidation, he looked through his text messages. There was a message from Wilhelm twenty minutes earlier saying he was almost to Linköping, where he hoped to get good food, and promising it wouldn’t take long.
Simon sighed with relief, and then his chest tightened and he felt like crying. He was weary from feeling tense, stressed and bracing for the worst. Why was he always bracing for the worst?
It wasn’t just the events of the past days, or even from that year; it wasn’t even just what had happened since the video had appeared everywhere. It was everything that had happened since Wilhelm had appeared in his life.
He had been fine, adjusting to a new school despite how different he was from the elite kids in his class, realizing that he would always be treated like an outsider. But he was fine with that; he had his family, his friends, he got to sing in choir and be really good at it. And then the prince of Sweden arrived and everything changed.
He wondered how different things would have been for him if he hadn’t looked into the crowd to find the sour prince suddenly looking up at him and smiling.
Never in a million years would he have thought that things would take such a turn, that so many people would want to have a say in it or get in the way, and that he would feel his world crumbling around him. All because he had the audacity and poor judgement to fall head over heels for a member of the royal family.
What did it say about him that his world seemed to crumble to pieces for another boy? Was he betraying himself, ignoring his self worth by needing someone else so badly?
No, he didn’t need Wilhelm, he wanted him. He wanted to be with Wilhelm.
And he was done trying to deny it, deny himself what he wanted.
He was putting himself first. He was listening to his heart.
And when a person follows their heart, they can’t make mistakes.
Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his backpack and coat from his locker and left the library.
It was colder now. Most people were heading to their respective dining halls to have dinner. He saw Felice with Madison, Stella and Fredrika, wearing their coats, heading back from somewhere. Felice waved at him and he waved back. Fredrika and Stella whispered something to each other, and Madison rolled her eyes at them. They disappeared into the main building.
Simon thought about waiting inside, in the warmth, but he dreaded running into August again. He dreaded running into anyone at all. He couldn’t deal with people asking him questions anymore, people obviously whispering about him, people watching him expectantly, knowing he was waiting for Wilhelm, knowing that at any moment Wilhelm would arrive and they might get to witness something between them.
So he stayed outside, in the cold, leaning against the wall. Henry and Walter passed him and asked if he was coming for dinner. He merely shook his head and stared into the distance, and tried not to think about anyone else.
The cold seeped into him, numbing him slightly. His chest felt tight, his whole body felt tense. He always felt that way lately.
And then he saw headlights in the distance, from a car coming down the road to Hillerska. It had to be Wilhelm, he was sure of it.
As the car drew nearer, it was like being in a boat adrift for a long time and finally spotting a lighthouse in the distance, knowing that he would soon reach shore.
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and knew it was Wilhelm texting him that he was almost there, and he smiled to himself.
But he didn’t move, not until the car had driven through the gates and into the driveway, and Malin and Joakim had stepped out and opened the door for Wilhelm. He didn’t move until he was there, right in front of him, for fear that he would try to move and find himself unable to propel himself forward, like in his dream. Because what if this was still a dream?
So Simon watched motionless, holding his breath, as Wilhelm came to stand in front of him with a huge smile on his face.
“Hey,” Wilhelm said in a breathy low voice, eyes sparkling.
“Hey,” Simon replied, his voice trembling, and reached out to touch his arm, like he needed to make sure he was real. Wilhelm, no longer able to contain himself, pulled Simon into a hug, and Simon allowed himself to hug him back, to believe that this was real.
“You okay? Wilhelm asked into his shoulder.
“I am now,” Simon whispered, melting into Wilhelm’s embrace, feeling the tension ebbing away, feeling suddenly so overwhelmed with relief and joy, this was real, this was happening, Wilhelm was back in his arms, and tears welled up in his eyes. They were happy tears this time. He breathed deeply, breathing in Wilhelm’s scent. He didn’t have to imagine him there with him anymore.
“Me too,” Wilhelm responded, his voice thick. He sniffled and rubbed Simon’s arms. “You’re so cold! How long were you waiting out here? You should have waited inside!”
Simon didn’t respond. He didn’t mind the cold. He just kept hugging Wilhelm, feeling Wilhelm hold him tighter too. The last time they had hugged, Simon felt like he was falling apart; now it felt like he had finally been put back together.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Wilhelm pulled back a little, to look at Simon. Their faces were wet with tears equally. Simon nodded, a shaky breath escaping his lips.
“I’m just… glad you’re back.”
Wilhelm chuckled. “Were you worried that maybe I wouldn’t?”
“To be honest, yeah.”
“It’s okay. I had my doubts too, for a bit. But I promised I would come back no matter what. I’m not breaking any more promises,” he said with a trembling exhale and a smile. “I am glad I didn’t have to hitchhike all the way here, though,” he joked, putting an arm around Simon’s shoulder and leading him inside.
Malin and Joakim followed, carrying Wilhelm’s bags and about four brown paper bags. He asked them to take the bags to his dorm, and that he and Simon would be there in a moment.
They walked by the doorway to the Forest Ridge dining hall and heard a cacophony of greetings, the boys probably expecting them to come in. Wilhelm simply waved at them, almost dismissively, and Simon only caught August’s ill expression for a split second as they passed. There were other people around, people who were loitering in the hall, clearly waiting around, to casually say hi to the Crown Prince and welcome him back, before being on their way.
“Come here one second,” Wilhelm said, leading him into the coat room and closing the door quietly. Simon looked at him, confused.
“What is it?”
“I just…” Wilhelm said, before tentatively approaching Simon, like he was going to kiss him. Simon smiled, and he met him halfway. He had been yearning so bad to kiss Wilhelm again; the tension from his body ebbed away, feeling all the air escape him, feeling the warmth of Wilhelm’s lips, the warmth from his arms as they wrapped around each other again.
“Your face is cold,” Wilhelm said, rubbing his nose tenderly against Simon’s. Simon chuckled.
”Why are we hiding in the coat room?” He whispered. Wilhelm made a face.
“Because I know people are watching,” he said, to Simon’s dismay.
“Oh,” he breathed, feeling apprehensive again. “I… I thought we didn’t have to hide anymore…”
Wilhelm smiled. “We don’t. But I wanted to do that without anyone staring at us,” he explained. “I don’t care if people know about us. In fact, I know people are imagining what we’re doing in here right now. But that doesn’t mean they get to watch.”
Simon beamed at him. “I get it.”
Wilhelm took his hand, his cold hands into his. “It’s not a secret anymore. But it’s still private.”
“I like that.”
Wilhelm leaned down again, touching his forehead to Simon’s. They both closed their eyes and stayed like that, holding each other. Wilhelm captured his lips for another kiss. Simon melted into it, his whole body becoming lighter.
He no longer felt lost or lonely or adrift. He felt like he was home.
“Can you stay the night?” Wilhelm whispered against his lips. Simon opened his eyes and looked at him, making Wilhelm blush.
“You don’t have to, I could very well have Malin or Joakim drive you home, or I can come with, when you’re ready to go home,” Wilhelm stammered. “I just thought that, after we talk, maybe we could… make up for the lost time?”
Simon felt himself blush too. “How?” He asked, trying not to smile. Wilhelm shrugged his shoulders, suddenly coy.
“Um, just… however we want. Wherever the mood takes us.”
Simon chuckled, nuzzling his face into Wilhelm’s neck.
“Okay, I’ll stay” he whispered, before pulling back. Wilhelm let out a sigh and grinned, and started talking fast and excitedly.
“I have so much to tell you. I think I bought us enough food. There’s this place in Linköping, it’s a little Japanese comfort food restaurant. Do you like soba noodles? I also brought takoyaki, an assortment of tempura, and what looks like lychee soda or something. And they have these purple cookies that are apparently made of ube, which I have never tried before but sounds amazing. I hope you’re not allergic to anything. If we like it, we should go there sometime, it’s small and cozy and they have so many other things in the menu. Come on, let’s go to my room,” he said, taking Simon’s hand and leading him out.