The media liked to display them as a supporting family that carried each other through thick and thin, but they were far from any type of contentment. Going to events and dinners or anywhere that required they be together were where the fake smiles were worn and meaningless words were spoken. At the end of the day, the joy dissipated, and the cold hearts emerged once again. He was starved of affection, physical affection and pure validation he craved almost constantly nowadays. He'd run into the first pair of arms that didn't reject his charm for a quick fix, wild night and raging hangover the very next morning because he needed to feel that someone wanted him even if their desire was masked by dollar signs and their lips were only ever hungry for the fame that dripped from his tongue.
That made him much more of a slut than any cheap hooker, but all the magazines ever called him was a bachelor. He hated the irony. The last he'd slept with a woman was less than a week ago, and if he really wanted to he could have had a girl every night, but it grew tiresome to have to cut ties with the desperate ones looking for permanence. Pete didn't do permanent or clingy or anyone who wanted anything more than a one-night stand. It was too dangerous to open himself up for something more when they were bound to crush his heart and stomp all over the remains because no one could truly love Pete, the Pete behind the whole royalty facade he'd been forced to put on since he was old enough to think for himself.
Everyone was in love with the material things about him, and he would be damned if he allowed for someone to tell him they loved him and never really mean it. Sometimes he wished he could leave this miserable life done up in glamour like golden-crest ribbons on a romanticized lie, so he could have a shot at something real. But what else did Pete have besides this? He'd never done anything with himself, never understood what he wanted in his future. His family had aimed to train him to be a royal and nothing else, and even then Pete seemed to fail at that task alone.
He was rich and adored and celebrated for simply being born into the right line of blood, so why wasn't he happy? What more could he want? Pete thought he was selfish for having things a majority of the world didn't have and still feeling like he didn't belong, like there was something he was missing. The prince stared at himself in the full-length mirror on his bedroom wall, adjusting the boutineer in his pocket square and tightening his pearl white bow tie, but he himself was encased in this emptiness he couldn't shake.
The attire Gerard had picked out for him earlier somehow made it seem as though he cared about being there with its crisp, ironed, old-fashioned appeal. If he was being honest, he didn't even know what the ball was for or why his parents had put so much effort into this night. Perhaps it had been disclosed to him at one time, but he must've been lost in a daydream or not cared at all to listen. His lips curved into a smile secretly laced in despair as he practiced how he'd greet the guests. The facial had done wonders for his skin, and he was practically glowing underneath the chandelier on the ceiling.
He reminded himself to thank Gerard later for partially saving his ass and morphing the bruises into faint marks that was easily concealed with a little foundation. Of course the publicity of the accident had to have put a damper on the event by now, but Pete believed if he worked his allure he could have everyone become putty in his hands by the end of the night. He heard a timid knock on the door, and a maid entered to tell him he was being summoned into the west courtyard. A gentle gust of cool wind blew past Pete whilst he went out into the enclosed area of well-kept greenery and quality marble statues created by the finest artists in the country. One lone figure was positioned with his back toward Pete and his arms crossed behind him, looking out at the roses fresh with droplets of water scattered across their healthy petals.
Pete noticed how the sun's dying rays, drowning from below the horizon, shined in long sharp strips over the flowers that seemed to dance in the dimming light. The person was dressed in his formal tux for the evening. His hair was smoothed back, a blanket of white snow upon his head. He turned around and stared Pete square in the eye in an attempt to intimidate him, but the king could never get through to his son so easily anymore.
"Do I even need to give you the whole 'we're disappointed in you' bit?" he spoke, "You could have been seriously hurt or worse."
"But I wasn't."
His father's fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, and he sighed heavily.
"It's not about you tarnishing the reputation your mother and I work so hard to uphold. We dealt with the law and paid off some of the media to not release those accident pictures. Your actions have led to deadlier outcomes, and frankly, Peter, we're afraid of what could happen to you if you keep this up. What is it that you want from us? We've tried everything to raise you right, and yet, you act as though you haven't learned a single thing."
"You mean the nannies raised me. You and Mom were too occupied with keeping our faces relevant."
"Don't do this right now. This is an issue that needs to be dealt with whether you like it or not. Do you understand how important this ball is tonight?"
"No. They're never as important as you lead them on to be," Pete replied, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his gaze fall on the roses again.
The king approached him and put a firm hand on his shoulder. Pete didn't meet his stare in fear that he would crumble.
"Your mother and I have been discussing this with each other since your last incident a few months ago. We've reached out to our neighboring nations and reflected on our futures as allies. You have to understand that your recklessness has a direct affect on our country and will only doom us once I step down from the throne. In an effort to salvage what respect we have left, we arranged for this ball in order for you to meet a bevy of potential suitresses."
Pete's brows furrowed at the reveal of their plan, and he met his father's unwavering eyes in confusion.
"Now before you get riled up this is the only option we have left, son. You're a few years shy of thirty and have yet to settle down with anyone, instead, sleeping around like a dog in heat. A marriage could patch up your mistakes and prove to the world that you're a much more responsible individual that is ready to take the crown for the benefit of the people. Depending on the princess you choose, you may very well bring two countries closer together in harmony and peace. Now haven't you ever wished for the undying love of a single woman rather than the fleeting romance of a stranger?"
He didn't know what to say in response to the words that had been spoken. They made his heart drop to his stomach and swish around in a sea of hopelessness, and Pete couldn't grasp the proposition being held out to him on a silver platter of deceit. His parents were cornering him and planning his future without his consent. The idea of being tied down for the rest of his life just to please his family sickened him.
He was appalled that his father was even attempting to convince him of something so obviously devious.
"Oh suck a dick, Dad," he spat, shrugging off the other's touch and turning on his heel.
The king was quick to catch up to this son's pace and follow him back inside the palace. He grabbed his wrist and spun him back to face him again.
"This isn't a choice."
"Bullshit. I'm an adult. You can't make me do something I don't want to do."
"Really? If you're an adult can you handle us cutting off your allowance and barring you from your inheritance?"
Pete narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening in frustration. He searched his father's face for any sign of weakness. Then he cracked an arrogant smirk when he yanked his arm back to his side.
"You wouldn't do it," he sneared, "You and Mom don't have the heart to throw me out in cold like that."
"Believe me, Pete, we have thought deeply about this matter, and we will take difficult measures if it means the risk of our reputation. We love you and only want you to succeed in life. This is the one thing that will ensure that. Please don't make us have to shun you for what you brought onto this family."
"You two can go fuck yourselves."
The prince could feel his cheeks grow hot and his eyes blur from tears that threatened to fall as he rushed past the staff putting the last touches on everything for the ball and went up the steps into his bedroom. He leaned over his balcony and released a shuddered breath into the night once he knew he was alone and away from the man he couldn't stand to look at for another second. These violent thoughts swirled inside his head, and for a moment, he considered leaning over the railing by a few more inches and seeing what would happen if he didn't stop gravity from finishing the job. He didn't know if he could do it- be out on his own with no support.
Pete was aware of his lack of an education past high school and the backlash he'd receive from the general public if he was disowned by the royal family. It would be an impossible challenge to land on his feet and build himself a comfortable life without any job prospects or respect. He wanted to believe he could survive, but he supposed he screwed up his chances the second he concluded he was better off in sleazy bars and tattoo shops rather than at church service or luncheons. As much as Pete hated to admit it, he had to attend the ball, and that was final. He was repulsed at the future of marriage with one of the princesses yet to arrive, someone he could never love claiming to be his other half and dragging him down in a spirtless relationship, but his father had been right.
This wasn't a choice.
His parents must have believed that the right woman could change Pete on a path for the better if they shoved him in that direction. In reality, they were setting him up for tribulation by giving him no other options. He'd have to just suck it up and go along with it all no matter how much he felt like diving forward into the ground below him.
"You have every right to be upset."
Pete had been so lost in his own head that he hadn't heard his assistant come in and walk up behind him.
Gerard was cautious in his movements and gave the young prince his own space by standing at the balcony doorway.
"Did my parents send you up here to convince me?"
"No. I came on my own accord after I heard what happened."
"Did you already know?"
"I'm afraid so. Your parents inform me of anything concerning you, and I wasn't allowed to disclose it. I'm sorry."
"It's fine, Gerard. You don't need to give me a whole motivational speech about why this would be good for me and the country. My father did that already, but he also threatened me, so it's a bit contradictory."
His assistant walked up beside him and propped his elbows up on the railing. The two men stared out at the estate and listened to the voices belonging to the guests trickling into the palace. Pete ruffled the strands of bleached blond hair he'd dyed as an impulsive act of rebellion but kept for stylistic reasons, though the color was now fading and revealed his natural black roots.
"I trust that you'll do well and pick a good future queen," Gerard spoke, "And hopefully fall in love with her in the process."
"I doubt I will, but I don't have much of a say in whether I want to or not anyway."
"You'll be okay. This isn't the worst thing that could have ever happened to you."
"Guess you're right, but I really fucked everything up, didn't I? I probably deserve this."
"You can't blame yourself for how you were brought up. I know how terribly neglectful your parents can be sometimes, and you've made countless mistakes that are hard to forgive as a result of that. But when everything feels like it's falling apart you just have to take a step back and admit that you're an asshole and move on with better choices in mind."
Pete nodded and stood upright off the railing, smoothing out his tuxedo and taking a deep breath.
"I think we both know that I'm incapable of making smart decisions," he chuckled lightly.
"Doesn't mean you can't try and say you did."
The prince smiled at that and walked towards his bedroom door with his assistant in tow, slightly more hopeful than he'd been just a moment ago.