Prideland

Chapter 2- Spencer

"You can't stay in there forever," said a voice as a brown hand with white splotches once again rapped the wooden door. Esmerelda tapped her golden heeled foot with yellow crossed straps angrily on the carpet, crossing her arms and sending a scowl to the locked door. "Yes I can- leave me alone"! A muffled and teary teenage boy replied from inside his room.

The woman rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly and her rapping knocks turned into pounds. "Spencer"! She shouted until the door finally swung open, revealing a brown-haired boy with dark eye bags, his eyes were bloodshot with tears. "What?" He asked, his voice croaking. The woman instantly stepped back, concern written all over her face. "Sweetie are you alright? I'm sorry I had no idea you were in such bad shape. Mom and I thought that leaving you by yourself would give you some time to-and I just yelled- Spencer I'm so sorry." The woman stepped forward, embracing her son in a warm hug and rubbing his back gently. "Have you tried getting some fresh air? Perhaps a break from your research and talked to someone about your findings?"

Spencer sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. "I'm not sure who wants to hear about some stupid plan to find The Seven besides you and Mom, and I'm pretty sure you only listen to it because you feel bad for me." He shrugged, about to turn around when he paused, his memory an empty chalkboard that was now filled with words. "Do you think Leaf's place is still open? Their schedule changes now because of the Equinox celebration...and they used to love theories and myths" He was met with an over-enthusiastic smile by his mother who was now rubbing his shoulders excitedly. "Only one way to find out! Get your coat!"

The Clove was a family-owned spice and herb shop that Spencer's best friend Leaf, an elf, inherited after their father ran off with his secretary and their mother disowned them and then proceeded to hang herself and Leaf's twelve siblings for Leaf's coming out. She would've been at the foot of a prison sentence for such an act if Leaf didn't step in for her in front of Spencer, saying that he would pay off her sentence by working for the kingdom and paying back the burial costs. It was elven tradition for the dead to be incinerated and their ashes spread across the sacred cost, Leaf demanding the burial process ended in them being banished and Prideland being their only home. In a way, Spencer was glad of their unfair circumstances since he now had a friend and an excuse to miss Psychical Therapy.

The silent atmosphere of Prideland curled around Spencer's muddy boots, turning the pastel city into a foggy chowder. His breath tightened in his throat as he noticed everyone's stares and whispers, their eyes following him like cameras burning into his head. Next to his glamorous and glittering mother, who glided silently across the walkway, making heads turn with her vitiligo skin that was as soft as fresh sheets, her pressed curly ombré hair with flaxen highlights that floated along her shoulders with every movement, and her caramel eyes that could either be kind and nurturing or dark and mysterious depending on what mood she was in, Spencer felt like a disgusting, furry rat. He might as well have stringy whiskers and a pink tail next to his bushy eyebrows and an excuse for the start of a goatee. Perhaps he should join that weird boy that lives in the sewers and wears an artifactual gas mask.

The chatting citizens seemed to break eye contact from their conversation and go jaw-dropping silent as the Queen walked by, some sending waves and smiles, others more curious about who she was and why- if she was royalty, was associating herself with the citizens, and so kindly too- instead of sitting on a gold throne and being hand-fed grapes from a silver platter.

"It's not polite to stare." Esmeralda kindly remarked to a small child, her voice dripping with honey as she handed the girl a cherry-flavored taffy from her dress pocket, holding it out to the child with grace in her chipped fingernail polish. "I'm aware my skin is lovely," the woman started as the young girl hesitantly took the treat, twisting the wrapper around her small fingers. "But it's not always polite to gawk at those who are lovely, especially when the rest of the world may see them as, well- not so lovely. I'm sure you meant no harm, but it could be seen as the wrong impression, so next time- compliment my lovely skin instead of simply gazing at it, I don't bite"! She lightly laughed, patting the girl's springy hair and watching with a sad smile as the child excitedly nodded and skipped away. Spencer watched with a feeling of dread as he so badly wished to have his mother's confidence and ability to talk to others without tripping over his words or nervously picking at his skin while not being able to maintain eye contact. His only hope was marrying a regal that knew the throne at the back of his or her hand. He didn't have to love them, only gain their affection.