Monday, November 7th:
It was all a blur. In a few weeks, his whole life was completely fucked up. Being yanked out of school, forced to give an apology on TV while sitting with his family, and now touring around his brother's old school. All over a stupid fucking fight.
"I can't take three years here, Erik," Wille sighed, glancing around the tiny room like it was a prison cell.
Erik smirked, flicking a school brochure at him. "Do what the first years do and what the third years tell you. "
"You mean what August tells me. He's so annoying."
Erik scoffed. "He is family. You can trust him, he's like a brother."
Wille threw the brochure on the floor. "Who the hell can live like this for three fucking years?"
"It's not about you," Erik sighed. "Everything you do reflects back on our family. It's time to stop being so selfish. It's not that hard. You have to be able to keep up appearances-"
A knock on the door had them both glancing up. They both knew what that meant.
Erik slowly stood, stretching out his arms. Wille stepped into his embrace. He'd always loved Erik's hugs, feeling completely enveloped. Safe.
"We'll be seeing each other soon," Erik said, pulling back.
Wille half-jokingly whined and wrestled with him, trying to get him to stay longer.
But too soon, Prince Erik was back, his posture straight and proud. "The faster you adapt, the easier your life will be."
With that, he strode down the hall, trailed by his guard, without a goodbye.
Wille felt more alone than ever. Abandoned.
...
"Hi. Can I sit with you?" Wille paused by his second cousin, at the end of the long dining table.
"Sorry, but the first years sit down there," August said, tilting his head towards the far end of the room.
Wille repressed a sigh. "OK," he said, walking behind his chair.
But as he passed, August reached out, grabbing his arm. "You know, I think we can make an exception. The Crown Prince did ask me to watch over you, and I hardly do that if you sit so far away."
Before Wille could object, August stood and had the boys on one side of the table shifting to leave an empty chair open beside his. He hoped his face didn't appear too flushed with embarrassment, feeling everyone watching this.
It was exactly the special treatment he loathed. He would have much rather sat with the boys his age than be singled out. He just wanted to be treated like a normal student.
"Um, how do meals work here," he asked August, trying to feel less awkward.
August loved it, explaining all the traditions of the house. Third year boys sitting near them chipped in with their own comments.
"After dinner, we have workies, and after that there's free time-"
"Where most of us relax and play games in the common room, and August runs a full marathon," Vincent interjected with a smirk.
"Or does a thousand burpees," added Nils.
August just grinned back at them. "This is our year to have the best rowing team ever. Everyone should be training for at least an hour each day."
The meal went by fine, with Wille mostly quiet, getting used to the routines and trying to remember everyone's names. He was happy to escape to his room and crawl in his small single bed afterwards, exhausted.
...
Thursday, November 10th
After a few meals, it all became part of his daily routine. Sitting with his cousin and the third years, listening to their inane chatter. Thinking to himself, Just one year, and these wankers will be gone...
"Did you hear what that little socce boy said in their civics class?" Johan commented, filling his water glass from a pitcher. "He was complaining how tax evasion was worse than welfare cheats and implied the monarchy were the biggest welfare receivers!!"
August nudged Wille's shoulder. "That's so ridiculous! Your family devotes their whole lives into serving others. It's not like you have a choice about it either...you have to follow traditions."
Wille nodded along at first, but then looked up when he noticed he wasn't being judged for who he is, for once. These guys have similar lives, trying to follow in their families' footsteps, feeling the same pressure to do well. They all have busy, distant parents.
Nils leaned closer to Wille. "So, what happened at your old school? Were you kicked out for fighting?"
It had been a couple weeks now, the bruise on his cheekbone mostly faded. It felt like so long ago, with so many changes in his life since then.
Shrugging a shoulder, Wille met Nils' dark eyes. "It started out like any party. Drank a bit, but I wasn't drunk or anything. It was too crowded, for sure, and some assholes decided to take about fifty photos of me. I tried to leave, and it ended up with some shoving. I'm sure you saw that part in the videos."
"And your friends didn't help you? Tell those wankers to fuck off?" Johan asked, his eyes wide with shock. He'd probably never been in a fight his whole life.
August draped his arm along the back of Wille's chair. "They weren't your kind of people."
The conversation went on to other things, but Wille thought back to that fateful night. Where had his friends been when it was happening? Or afterwards? It showed they really didn't give a fuck about him. Not really.
...
Monday,November 14th
"Wille on the table! Wille on the table!" It felt like everyone was thumping on the table, the silverware clinking.
Flushing, Wille eventually stood, and climbed on to his chair, just like a few other students had before him. "This is ridiculous," he said, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
"It was with Felice, wasn't it?"
Wille wasn't even sure who had said it, but he couldn't deny it. "Look, I just went outside for some fresh air, and suddenly she was there. Passing me a bottle of water-"
"Yeah, but how was it?"
Shaking his head, Wille flashed through his foggy memories from that night. "I was pretty drunk-"
"Oh, come on!"
Wille knew he had to give them something, or they'd never let him off that damn chair. "What can I say? She a very beautiful girl."
That encouraged some hooting and more comments.
"That's enough, get down," August said, urging Wille to climb down. "Anyone else? Any other dick that's been sucked?"
"I never said-" Wille shook his head, looking around. But all the teenage boys were just smirking at him.
"August is just pissed because she wouldn't give him the time of day," Vincent said softly to him, grinning.
...
Later on, Felice caught up to him. "Heading off to math class?"
"Um, yeah," Wille said.
"Did you have much of a hangover Saturday?" she asked with a flirty smile.
Wille shook his head. "Not too bad. The water you gave me helped."
"Um, are you going to horror movie night on Friday? At the Manor House?"
Wille could totally see where this was going. She was being very obvious that she was interested. Felice, one of the most popular girls in the school. But she was very nice, and very pretty. It was easy to just smile back at her, and say he'd be there.
...
"Come on, come on, please," Felice sighed, pulling on the horse's halter.
"Do you want me to help?" Wille said, edging closer to the thoroughbred. He gently rubbed a hand over the velvety softness of his muzzle, smiling as the horse nudged against him, likely wanting a treat.
Wille stroked along his neck, stepping closer to press his cheek against the horse. The warmth and the familiar smell soothed him, reminding him of many days spent around the stables in his early years. Often with Erik, mucking out the stalls, grooming the horses, and racing them across the grassy fields.
"You are a natural," Felice said, stepping closer, and running her hand over Rousseau's side.
He could tell she was a bit tense, and wordlessly guided her hand, showing her the best places to pet and scratch, laughing together when Rousseau tilted his head towards her when she hit a good spot. "You are too," he said softly.
She was standing close to him, and looked up at him with a pleased smile at his comment. It was easy to lean a bit closer, letting their lips touch.
Felice returned the kiss, their first sober one. It felt nice, sweet.
He pulled back with a smile. "Come on. I'll help you get him out to the riding hall."
"Can you stay?" Felice asked, grabbing her riding helmet and following him out of the stall.
Once she had her helmet strapped on, he handed her the lead. "Just for a bit. I have rowing practice to get to."
"My brother wants to get on the rowing team as well," a girl nearby said, joining them as they enter the riding arena.
Felice smiled at her. "Wille, do you know Sara? She's in our year."
Wille glanced her way, and the girl looked familiar against the blur of all the new people he's been around lately. "What's your brother's name?"
Placing the steps near the tall horse, Sara held Rousseau's bridle as Felice mounted him and settled in to the saddle, passing her the reins. Felice nodded at them and nudged the horse into a quick walk around the perimeter.
Sara picked up the steps and tucked them out of the way against a wall. "His name is Simon. He's younger than me but acts like an overprotective, older brother most of the time."
"My brother is similar, but actually older than I am," Wille replied, and felt a familiar ache of homesickness from thinking about him.
Sara was quiet, watching him as he watches Felice in her lesson. "It helps, doesn't it. Being around animals. You seem more relaxed here."
It wasn't that surprising that someone he just met was making such a personal observation about him. All part of the fun of being in his prominent family. People thinking they know him from all the media coverage.
He nodded at her. "Animals don't judge you, or act fake."
She smiled, and then stepped away as Felice rode towards them.
Felice handed her a cellphone. "Sara, be a dear and take a picture of Wille with me and Rousseau."
Wille tried not to roll his eyes as he stepped close to Rousseau, holding his bridle while Sara moved back to get a picture, Felice still in the saddle. The picture would likely be on her Insta account within an hour.
He waved goodbye to the girls after that, and headed out at a jog towards the lake.
...
The water on the lake was calm, the glow of the waning sunlight reflecting over it as a guy in a neon yellow t-shirt aligned his boat against the dock.
"Hey, socialist boy! You could become a great coxswain," August said in his cocky way. "It's well-suited for smaller people."
Wille, who was stacking some oars in a pile, found the comment patronizing, and could tell the guy isn't impressed either.
Grabbing an armful of gear, August walked up the hill.
"Climb out. I'll carry the boat back with you," Wille offered, squatting down to hold the boat still. "I'm Wilhelm."
"Simon," the boy replied, as he stood in the dock.
They reached down, and hoisted the boat up together. It was not that heavy, but very long, and they both chuckled when Wille almost lost his grip.
"Your sister is Sara, right? I just met her in the stable," Wille commented, as they stored the equipment in the boat house.
Simon gave a half smile. "She practically lives there." He glanced past Wille, his smile disappearing. "See you later," he murmured, and ran off.
Leaning against doorway, Wille watched as Simon stopped in front of August. He was too far away to hear what they are saying, but it didn't seem friendly. More confrontational. Was he telling August off for calling him 'Socialist Boy'?
Wille found the idea of that oddly satisfying. The spoiled boys at this school rarely get normal people calling them on their shit.
...
-A/N: Thanks for giving this fic a try! This is my first fic for this fandom, so please be gentle with me if I screw anything up.
-I have completed a rough draft and will likely be posting at least one chapter a week. I'm thinking about 15 chapters, covering events up to the end of Season 2. The story moves along fast since I'm just doing it from Wille's POV.
-Title: The fic is very loosely inspired by the old movie 'Sliding Doors'. Gwnyth Paltrow's character leaves work earlier than normal, takes the subway home, and catches her boyfriend cheating on her. In another possibly of her life, she just misses her train, and takes the next one. The small delay means that she doesn't catch her boyfriend in the act. The film flips back and forth between the two ways her life goes from then on. This fic is an alternate universe to canon, based on a few small changes that happen along the way.
The title also comes from the old saying "When God closes a door, he opens a window."
-Felice & Wille: Please don't worry too much about them being involved. It won't last long.