Wilhelm
Wilhelm and Simon walked out of the club hand in hand at 2am laughing and singing "Smooth" by Santana with Wilhelm reenacting Simon's on-stage moves, and Felice following behind, engrossed in her cellphone. Malin and David kept a respectable distance to give the trio at least a modicum of privacy.
Simon laughed at the terrible impersonation. "Next year, we're doing a duet. You and me."
Wilhelm grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, cool. I'm in. What are we going to call ourselves? Crown Slay?"
Simon looked at Wilhelm with a glint in his eyes. "Sovereign Shredders?"
Wilhelm laughed, "Electric Kings?"
"I like it!" replied Simon with a chuckle. "Electric Kings it is. For next year."
"On it. I'll be working on a song."
"You better. I'm not doing that again. That was work," replied Simon, swinging Wilhelm's hand lightly as they sauntered along.
"Ok, my house is that way," Simon announced as they hit a fork in the road, interrupting the lazy, carefree mood. "I'll see you later?"
"Yeah, later."
As Wilhelm walked to the car parked a street away (he had asked the bodyguards to not pull it up to the club, no need to make that kind of exit), he looked at Felice as she gave him a teasing glance.
"What?!" said Wilhelm.
"Oh, you know what. Fine, for today, enjoy it. But tomorrow, you've got some explaining to do, young man."
Wilhelm looked down and grinned as he sauntered along, crossing his feet as he moved, his eyes glistening.
"Tomorrow is another day."
Felice rolled her eyes and smirked, "Technically not, but sure. Go with that."
--
Wilhelm got back to his dorm room, his ears ringing from the aftereffects of the club. He looked at his cellphone. 2:47am.
The next thing he knew, sun was pouring through his window.
He sat up in bed as the memories of what had happened the night before flooded in.
Fuck, he thought.
He looked at his phone. 1 new message from Simon.
Simon: We need to talk.
His heart began to beat out of his chest, and his breath quickened. His felt a ringing in his head that no amount of counting could erase. He fell into child's pose on his bed, but the ringing was too much to handle. He started counting, 1, 2, 3, breathe. 1, 2, 3, breathe.
He looked down at his cellphone. Was 9:30 too early to call Dr. Nilsson on a Sunday? He needed to talk to someone, right then. Every second, he recalled more and more of the evening, and his thoughts began to spin out of control.
He scrolled through his phone, grateful that the counselor had put his phone number in Wilhelm's contacts before he had left for Erik's funeral.
As he pushed 'Call', he thought for a quick second, What is wrong with me?
"Hello?" answered Dr. Nilsson.
"Hi, Dr. Nilsson?" responded Wilhelm, haltingly. He already regretted the call as he heard the counselor's kids yelling, 'Who's that?' in the distance.
"Is that you, Wilhelm?" Wilhelm heard a door open and shut, and then the background noise became muffled.
"Yeah, um, I'm so sorry to call you at home. I wouldn't have called you if it weren't an emergency," said Wilhelm, his voice cracking.
"It's all right, son. It's all right." he answered, concern creeping into his usually-steady voice.
"Um, I was hoping, um, I-I need to talk to someone, but only if it's not too much trouble...But i-if it is, that's okay...I'll be fine...no need to worry...I'm fine..." Wilhelm rambled, his words becoming more and more indistinct by the second.
"Wilhelm, I'm getting in my car now. Listen, I only live 10 minutes away. Do you want me to meet you at the residences, or in my office? If you want to stay on the phone while I drive, I can put you on bluetooth. Wilhelm, do you hear me?"
Wilhelm's eyes filled with tears, "Uh, your office is fine. And I'm okay. The bodyguards will be with me anyways. I'll get dressed and see you in a few minutes."
"Ok, son. Breath, ok? It's going to be okay. Breath," replied Dr. Nilsson, trying to sound calm that he was obviously flustered.
--
Fifteen minutes later, Wilhelm had dressed and walked to the student support wing on campus. When he arrived, Dr. Nilsson was already there, dressed in jeans, an old sweatshirt, and a distressed baseball cap that said "Pura Vida- Costa Rica" on the side with a logo of palm trees and a toucan.
As he walked in, Dr. Nilsson took him in a long embrace.
"There, there, boy," murmured Mr. Nilsson, as he patted Wilhelm's back.
Wilhelm sank into Dr. Nilsson shoulder, "I don't know what to do." The counselor put his arm around him and guided him to a seat.
Wilhelm and Dr. Nilsson finally sat down in their respective chairs, Dr. Nilsson holding his thermos of coffee, probably from the drive over, Wilhelm reasoned, given that the coffee maker was not plugged in.
Dr. Nilsson just sat there, legs crossed, sipping his coffee while Wilhelm pulled himself together. By this point in their relationship, the therapist knew that it took Wilhelm a bit of time to think through what he wanted to say.
Wilhelm started, "I kissed him."
"Oh," Dr. Nilsson replied.
"And I told him I loved him," Wilhelm continued.
The counselor knitted his eyebrows. "Oh."
"Yeah," said Wilhelm, supporting his elbows on his knees and pressing his hands into his forehead. "I don't know why, I don't know how. It's just, I saw him on stage at the club, and he just looked so good, and I just thought 'I need to be with him,' and I actually used the whole Crown Prince-thing to get backstage, which I never do...you know, use the prince thing, but I just had to hug him, and I...things just got away from me."
"And what did he do?" asked the counselor. Wilhelm looked up at the man. He looked confused, probably wondering what could have possibly gone on at a club that the Crown Prince could have attended.
"He said he loved me back...What do I do?"
Dr. Nilsson, perplexed, thought for a moment and then stated, "Wilhelm, I can see this is hard for you, and you know I'm there for you. I'm just...um...this sounds like a good thing?"
Wilhelm groaned, "Yeah, you're right. But, I never really told you how it all ended, you know, before. That might explain why this is so bad."
"Would you like to tell me? Maybe then we can talk about what to do about all this."
"Ok, so, basically, when I had the press release saying that I wasn't in a relationship and that I wasn't the one in the video, which, I think, we can both agree was a lie..."
Dr. Nilsson grinned slightly, nodding. "Ahem."
"Right, Simon was..."
"Angry, you mentioned it before," reassured the therapist.
"No, worse. Disappointed. Hurt. It was like I had kicked a puppy. And one of things he said was that he refused to be anyone's secret. That he wasn't going to sneak around and be with me if I couldn't be true to myself."
"Ah," nodded Dr. Nilsson. "And now..."
"And now, I didn't do anything to change the situation. Realistically, everyone at school and my parents know that we slept together. I mean, come on. It was so obviously him, and it was so obviously my room. But the public? I literally lied to the public, and he all but said I had to come out publicly for us to be together."
"He did?"
"Not in those words. But, anywhere we go, people will see us. And no one will think we're just friends hanging out, I promise. I can't ride the bus without pictures being taken of me. Now imagine that I'm seen out with the guy who I was allegedly in a sex tape with. A video that got leaked from within this school. Nowhere is safe. "
"I see," replied Mr. Nilsson, his eyes crinkling slightly.
"So, what should I do?" responded Wilhelm.
"What do you think you should do?"
Wilhelm slumped into the armchair.
"Can we not therapize? Can't you just tell me what to do?"
Dr. Nilsson looked at him hard for a long time. "Wilhelm, you know, that's not really what I do. I'm happy to support you finding your own answers, but I can't do that work for you..."
Wilhelm threw his head back to where he was facing the ceiling. "Yeah, but everyone else has parents, an older brother, a favorite aunt, grandparents who they can ask advice from. What am I going to do, call up the Queen? You know as well as I do that she doesn't have the time or the temperament to deal with her teenage son's problems."
He continued, "I used to have Erik. When he...you know...I went to August, since Erik had told me he was safe and, well, you know how that ended. I have no one, Mr. Nilsson. No one. So can you please just help me? Please?"
Wilhelm's eyes looked pleadingly at the counselor, whose face had visibly paled. He held his hands out to Wilhelm, and, holding Wilhelm's hands said, "Today, just today, I will throw out the rule book."
Mr. Nilsson started out, "Here's what I would say to my own son. And it's going to sound harsh and possibly not very teacher-like.
"Wilhelm, you are strong; you are kind; you have a sense of humor. But you have been conditioned to believe that you and your family matter more than anyone else. And that is not your fault. Your family told you that; society told you that; your schools have signaled that to you since you were in preschool. I see how even teachers at this school show preference for you, and I know you do, too. I've also seen you call people out for how they treat you, but, when it benefits you, you often turn a blind eye to the special treatment.
"And, of course you do. Who wouldn't? I'm not blaming you for it. But, you, Wilhelm, are not just the personification of a monarchy. You are a human being, with your own identity, with thoughts, feelings, emotions. And you have been told for too long that you are not, that instead you are the bearer of a nation's legacy, have you not?
He paused, not really waiting for a response.
"Hear this. You are not more important than anyone else, nor is your family. But, you are just as important as anyone else. Do you hear me? You are just as important. And you have to live for you, not for your family or for its legacy. Consider this. What's the worst thing that could happen?"
Wilhelm gaped at Dr. Nilsson, his eyes wide with shock. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. Except Simon.
"Hm?" probed the counselor.
Wilhelm, realizing he hadn't given an answer, took a moment to pause. "Oh, um, well, the monarchy could fall? There's literally no one left to take over but me. It's not like the British monarchy where there's a line. It's just me."
"So?" urged Mr. Nilsson.
"I mean, that's my family's legacy. That would mean the end of hundreds of years of history would be on me."
"So?"
"I mean, I mean, it's the history of Sweden, the legacy of nation. We uphold the traditions of the nation."
"And no one else could possibly continue Swedish tradition? We couldn't appoint a minister for that?" asked Mr. Nilsson, eyebrows raised.
"What are you saying, that the monarchy doesn't matter?" Wilhelm pulled himself up from his slouched position, jaw locked and body tense.
"I'm not saying it doesn't matter. However, realistically, the vast majority of countries don't have a monarchy, and they're doing just fine. The French don't have a monarchy, but can't we say their traditions have held up through the test of time? But your life, Wilhelm, your life? You will never get that back. Do you want to be the legacy of a monarchy whose job it is to 'uphold tradition', or do you want to live? Because it seems to me you are sacrificing your identity, who you are, for something that we can all live without. That's what I think."
The counselor hesitated, but then continued on.
"And I think, for the first time, you have someone in your life who absolutely doesn't care about who you represent, what your family represents. And that has been hard to cope with. He doesn't care about the legacy of the monarchy. But he cares about you. And you've been so wound up in how to serve the monarchy but also answer the call of your hormones (sorry Wilhelm, but it's true), that you've forgotten how to treat him with the respect that he deserves. And he is demanding that respect, but, you know, he has hormones, too. And sometimes it's hard to stand up for what you deserve when you so desperately crave someone, and especially at 2 o'clock in the morning. And that is why you are in my office at 10am on a Sunday morning."
The counselor looked up to Wilhelm's shocked expression. He didn't know what to say. But he knew the counselor had nailed it. And it hurt.
"Um. Okay." Wilhelm stood up, grabbing his coat, to leave.
"Sit," commanded the counselor.
"No, it's okay. I'm going to go, um, reflect on all this."
"Sit."
Wilhelm looked at the chair and then at the serious look on Mr. Nilsson's face. Weighing his options, he sat back down.
"What is your gut reaction?" asked Mr. Nilsson, knitting his fingers together as he relaxed into his chair.
Wilhelm exhaled and fell back against the armchair. "That, um, that...you're right."
"And how does that feel?"
"Um, shitty? And like impossible? And scary?"
"Good."
"Good?" repeated Wilhelm, his eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean 'good'?"
"If you weren't terrified right now, I'd honestly be more worried for you. And if you didn't feel, shitty, for lack of a better word, it'd mean that you were more lost than I had thought. And no, it's not impossible, but you cannot be passive anymore. You have to stand up to all those who hold you back from living your own truth."
Wilhelm looked at the counselor fixedly.
"So, what do I do? Do I come out?"
"That, I truly cannot give you the answer to, as much as I'd love to. That has to come from in here," he said, pointing to his chest.
With that, Wilhelm, picked up his coat from the armchair he had rested it on a few minutes before.
He looked at Dr. Nilsson, and for a moment took in the bizarreness of this scene. A school counselor, on a Sunday in an old Pura Vida baseball cap, giving advice to the Crown Prince about the overthrowing of the Swedish monarchy. He laughed inwardly. The man had guts, you had to give him that.
"Um, thanks, Dr. Nilsson, for coming out today. I, uh, really appreciate it. I know you didn't have to do this."
"No problem, son. Go back to your room, think about our conversation, and I'll see you for our Monday appointment, all right?"
"See you then," he said, as he headed out the door. "And thanks, again. Please apologize to your family for me."
D. Nilsson waved his hand like it didn't matter. "Have a...reflective weekend, Wilhelm."
And with that, Wilhelm closed the door and trudged back to his dorm ready to hole up and process all the truth that had just been handed to him. And then, he had to answer Simon's text...