"Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up
These are the best days of our lives
The only thing that matters is just following your heart
And eventually, you'll finally get it right"
— The Ataris
Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I remember. While popstar Rufus Spencer stayed in the kingdom of Verastoria for a truly enveloping romance, Prince Vincent set out on a 10-month world tour with 90 Percent Ninja, a pop-punk band experiencing a much-deserved meteoric rise.
This brings us to the evening of Friday, September 27, 2024 at the historic Balfe Theater, Verastoria's largest indoor performance venue, where 1,945 fanatics screamed at the top of their lungs as their favorite band closed their set with a performance of the radio-dominating single "Douchebag". After hitting the final chord, everyone in the audience cheered as loud as they could, desperately demanding an encore. The drummer, bassist, and rhythm guitarist walked off the darkened stage as their front-man traded his signature Fender Stratocaster for a vintage Taylor Custom #32 Grand Auditorium Acoustic Guitar. The crowd grew louder, knowing now their wish was being granted.
Then, a follow spot illuminated the right side of the stage, where the front-man's Royal doppelganger walked out, getting the crowd to roar so loud that the surface of the stage actually vibrated. The Prince carried a cajon, a rectangular box drum—extremely common for stripped-down, acoustic renditions of popular tracks.
"Alright, alright," the popstar said, getting the audience prepared for a surprise performance. "As y'all probably know, this is the last stop on our world tour. It's been totally insane—all of the travel and the throngs of fans—but, it's also been unbelievably gratifying. It's because of people like you that we are able to do what we do. So, in appreciation, we'd like to play you a little something. The Prince and I have been collaborating via Zoom and we put this together, just for you."
The Prince placed his cajon on the orange "X" center-stage and sat down on top of the drum. He then positioned the boom of the mic stand so he could play and sing at the same time. "We're going to do something that 90 Percent Ninja has never done before," The Prince said with a toothy grin. "We're going to play a love song."
"We hope you like it," the front-man said. "It's called 'Wait For It' and it goes a little like this..."
A simple, three-chord melody was played on the acoustic guitar while an equally simple cadence was played on the cajon, with accents on two and four. After 16 bars, the lyrics started to freely flow, captivating the crowd.
"Cold hands, warm hearts
And I can't tell your legs apart from mine
They're intertwined
Can I rewind tonight
And play it over slower?
Because I made the mistake
Not to appreciate
The finer details of your face
And I cannot
Forget the way that you taste
Or the days that we waste
Or the dreams that we chase
Or the smile that I effortlessly
Put on your face
Or the place that we kissed
Did I swing and miss?
Or is this what we've been waiting for?
What we've been waiting for
Small steps, deep breaths
I hope that you never forget
This bliss, I am speechless
Did you witness
My heart beating out of its chest?
Because I made the mistake
Or forgetting to take
A deeper breath so I don't shake
Can I rewind tonight
And play it over slower?"
After a reprise of the chorus, which had some beautiful vocal harmonies, the song came to a close. The Prince and the popstar looked out into the crowd, marveling at the hundreds of bright, shiny lights, emanating from countless cell phones, swaying back and forth like little, dancing stars.
"Thank you so much, Verastoria!" The Prince shouted. "We love you!"
And with that, The Prince and the popstar walked off-stage, immediately approached by a lanky roadie named Barret.
"That was fantastic!" he exclaimed, handing each of them a Fiji water bottle. "Your Highness, I had no idea you were so talented."
"Actually, I'm Rufus," the well-groomed cajon player replied as he pointed to the dressed-down front-man. "That's The Prince."
"Wait a second—are you joking?" Barret asked, completely confused. "Who have I been touring with all this time?"
"That would be me," Prince Vincent said, placing his acoustic guitar on a multi-guitar stand rack. "All this time, you were traveling with royalty. Pretty crazy, am I right?"
Barret stood with his mouth agape, spectacularly stupefied. "I—I—I don't—"
"Relax, Barret," Rufus said calmly, patting him firmly on the back. "We managed to fool the whole world, with the exception of a select few. Trust me, you're not alone."
"Boys! We have no time to dawdle," a blue-eyed brunette called out, making her way down the stairs which led up to the catwalk. "Let's go—chop, chop!"
"She didn't happen to cut you any slack while you were on the road, did she?" Rufus asked.
"Yeah, because Savannah is so well-known for her easy-going temperament," Vincent replied sarcastically.
"Did she at least lighten up when y'all played Paris?" Rufus wondered. "That city brings her this strange kind of solace. Every time we've visited, she's just—well—she's at peace there."
"I did notice that," Vincent replied as he thought it over. "She was rather calm during our time there." The Prince then grabbed his canvas satchel, which was placed on top of a stack of black road cases, protecting various pieces of performance equipment. "Okay, I'm good to go. Are you ready?"
Rufus tightened the straps of his bug-out bag. "Yes, sir—off to The Palace!"
They soon met up with Savannah and quickly zipped through the east side of the kingdom, making their way to The Palace, where a handful of the staff awaited their arrival, standing on the steps of the main arched entrance.
"Welcome home, Your Highness," a silver-haired chambermaid said, slightly bowing her head. "Ms. Gunnerson asked me to tell you to meet her in the scullery."
"The 'scullery'?" Rufus asked.
"The kitchen," Vincent clarified. "You didn't spend much time here, did you?"
"When you have The Island of Misfit Toys as an option, all of the other choices kinda pale in comparison," Rufus replied.
"You really don't have to justify your actions to me," Vincent said as he patted Rufus' shoulder. "The Treehouse is a wondrous place. I'd take it over The Palace any day of the week."
"Amen," Rufus said, smiling.
"So, tell me—how's The Crew?" The Prince asked.
"Well, as you can imagine, Henry is still—ya know—Henry."
"Not at all that surprising."
"And I swear, Samuel amazes me on a daily basis. He absorbs things so fast; it'll leave you dizzy. He reads a book a day, and not just novels and memoirs, but complete textbooks. Last week, I saw him polish off an introduction to geometry. When I asked him about it, he told me that he was—and I quote—'fascinated with the implementation of logic to spatial reasoning'. I think he could even give you a run for your money."
"Wow, that's truly astonishing. His scans did come back clean, correct?"
"Yeah, they did. But, the doctors are mystified by his elevated brain function. They've never seen anything like it."
"Well, I've always thought Samuel to be special."
"That, he most certainly is."
Vincent cleared his throat as they walked down the main corridor of The Palace. "And Ava? How have the two of you been doing?"
Rufus grinned at the mere mention of her name. "It's been really wonderful, Vincent. She's just—just—God, I can't even put it into words. She really does mean the world to me. There have been nights where we just lie on the beach, wrapped in each other's arms as we look up at the stars. It feels like the perfect fairy tale."
"Have you talked about what you're going to do once you leave?"
Rufus rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, we've been in a little denial. I don't think either of us are ready for what's inevitable."
As the pair neared the kitchen, they could hear the distinct melody of Queen's stellar smash, "Fat Bottomed Girls". Once they crossed the threshold, they found Quinn and all the members of The Crew—the small, but spritely Samuel, the heavy-handed Henry, and the adorably affable Ava—dancing around on the black-and-white tiled flooring while they collectively cooked up something with a tantalizing, mouth-watering aroma.
"Good evening, Your Highness," Quinn greeted as she stirred a boiling pot of farfalle pasta. "And to you, Mr. Spencer. Why don't you two grab those sausage links on the table and chop them up into medallions?" She spun in place as Freddie Mercury sang out, "Heap, big woman, you made a bad boy out of me!"
As Rufus and Vincent made their way around either side of the prep island, Henry continued to slice thin strips of onion while he bobbed his head and tapped his foot.
"Hello, gentlemen," he said in his usual monotone manner. "I swear, I'm not crying. I just have sensitive eyes." Nevertheless, he pressed on while The Prince and the popstar stifled their laughs as they came to the far end of the island, where Samuel was cutting up a basket of mushrooms.
"Salutations," Samuel said, looking up at the identical, friendly faces. "I do hope your encore went swimmingly. We all made an early exit; we thought it would be nice to put together a home-cooked meal for you."
While Vincent stood awestruck by the incredibly sophisticated syntax of the youthful Samuel, Ava pranced in a circle, singing into a ladle, only briefly stopping to plant a quick kiss on Rufus' cheek. "The serrated knives are in the butcher's block, next to the cutting board," she said as she returned to the skillet of melting butter on one of the spider burners. "We need those sausages in the pan in ten minutes, boys."
"What exactly are we making?" Rufus asked, trying to put the ingredients together in his head.
"We call it 'MOB Pasta'," Henry replied as he started quickly cutting some red and yellow bell peppers Julienne. "Mushrooms, onions, and bell peppers, sautéed then flash-fried in a wok with farfalle pasta and sausage. You finish it off with a little extra virgin olive oil and you get a truly amazing dish."
"My God, that sounds brilliant," Vincent said, breathing in deeply.
Everyone in the kitchen continued to bounce around to the driving beat and soon, supper was served.
After scarfing down an incredibly satisfying meal, Rufus, Vincent, and The Crew made the trek out to the marvelous Island of Misfit Toys. As Vincent approached The Treehouse, he finally felt the feeling of home. Henry built a small bonfire in the center of the clearing and everyone gathered around as The Prince recounted his experiences with 90 Percent Ninja on the world tour. He told his stories with rich, vivid detail as everyone around the fire listened intently, laughing until their sides hurt from the pure zaniness of certain situations. In one instance, Vincent elaborated on the memory of speeding down a Slip 'n Slide coated with Jello and set up in the hallway of The Park Hyatt in Sydney, Australia. He spoke of the insane groupies that followed the band throughout their entire South American leg of the tour, cornering him in a green room, wearing nothing but strategically placed dollops of Cool Whip. Everything from crowd-surfing in Tokyo to almost catching a burst of flame from the pyrotechnics in Moscow—Vincent told them all of it into the wee hours of the morning.
As the bonfire burned down to ash, Vincent, Henry, and Samuel called it quits, heading up to their respective quarters, while Rufus and Ava walked down to their favorite spot on the beach, holding hands ever-so tightly.
"When's your flight, darling?" Ava asked, not really wanting the truth.
Rufus looked down at his smartwatch and shook his head. "I've got to be at the airport in an hour. I'm cutting it a little close, but I think mother will understand if I'm a little late."
Ava scoffed. "Your mother? I highly doubt that."
"Well, consider it 'wishful thinking'," Rufus replied as he cracked the smile that Ava couldn't get enough of.
"And you're sure you can't extend this masquerade for just a little bit longer?"
Rufus sighed. "I have auditions fast approaching and Vincent has his added responsibilities in the kingdom. We have to switch back. He can't do everything I can do and I certainly can't do everything he can do. It has to be this way, sweetheart."
Ava looked down at her Chuck Taylors, deflated. "So, this is goodbye then."
"No," Rufus said firmly. "Absolutely not. This is 'until we meet again'." He pulled her in for a soft, yet deep kiss.
After a moment of bliss, Ava suddenly pulled away. "But, what about the distance? It's going to be unbearable."
"At first, yes, it's going to feel like that, but I know in my heart, blindly, that we're strong enough to survive it." He then gave her one last kiss as the sun began to rise. He squeezed her hand three times and smiled, just before turning to one of the beached kayaks. He pushed it into the water, unable to look back because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, if he caught just one more glimpse, he would never leave.
And then, nothing but silence filled the growing void as he paddled away, leaving a piece of his soul on the island he grew to love.
YOU ARE READING
The Prince & The Popstar
General FictionA twisted fairy tale with a little bite. When popstar Rufus Spencer meets his doppelganger, Prince Vincent of Verastoria, he's offered the chance to escape his exhausting life by switching places with the prince, who grew up incredibly sheltere...
