make it easy | young royals ✓

eighteen

August

I examine my bare reflection in the mirror, my eyes inching over the spread and folds of my skin, scrutinising the details. My gaze roams relentlessly, my throat closes up, and frustration floods in. My appearance constantly dissatisfy me, and today, it's no different. I wonder how many hours of sweat pooling up the crooks of my neck, and the songs on my workout playlist running out will fix me. They never make me feel any different, but worse, the more I look.

As I ease into an even pace for my morning run, I think ahead for the upcoming day. The classes will be breezy, and I'm planning to spend an hour or two researching universities after dinner. Taking over my dad's company without redeeming qualifications will make taking me seriously a laughing matter, and maybe spending a few years in Stockholm will be good for me.

With the burden of Wilhelm's publicity stunt off my shoulders, I find the days brighter and full of promises. As his threats loom in the back of my mind, I'm finally severing together efforts to lessen whatever he has prepared. I doubt it's anything major, but the hatred burning in his eyes is something I know to tiptoe around. With the media's newfound faith in the crown prince, I find my influence in the monarchy declining immediately.

Still, I'm surprised by how much I stopped caring about becoming part of the family. With my future on a bumpy path ahead, I have more things to look forward to and work towards. Ultimately, who cares about the crown and honours? It's not like I haven't ruined my chances of both.

In the hallway, I'm walking to my second class when I just happen to glance through a science classroom, seeing Felice and Wilhelm standing by a bench, heads together in conversation. I immediately veer into the doorway, keeping out of sight, cranking the door open slightly to catch their words.

"-but are you sure that's going to work?" I hear Wilhelm say.

A shuffle of paper. "I got all this evidence, texts, pictures, and even videos if they asked."

"How the hell-"

"Don't underestimate me."

He laughs, and my mind works hard to decipher what they're saying.

"When should we do this?" Felice questions, and I gently inch the door more open, not caring how I'm probably appearing crazy to other people walking past the classroom.

The pause hangs in the air, and for a moment, I think I'm caught. Wilhelm's voice resumes a few seconds later. "Maybe we can make it a Christmas present."

"He'll love it." Felice claps her hands together, and I imagine her face twisting in a cheery smile. The beads of sweat feel cold on my forehead, and I realise I've been holding my breath. They're speaking of some presents for his boyfriend or something, that's what I assume, probably some weird, tacky photobook. My heart slows, and I'm about to leave when my name is mentioned.

"Oh, August, he'll finally feel what it's like to lose everything."

I clasp my books closer to my chest with an unsteady hardness.

Wilhelm continues. "Honestly, if it weren't for you, I would've never thought about this."

"He deserves it," Felice rebuttals, and there's a searing emptiness in the pit of my stomach. Hearing her words spoken with no remorse or sympathy shocks me, and despite our history, I never imagine her thinking of me in that way.

"Are we bad people?"

I anticipate the answer. "No."

"We aren't justice warriors either," Wilhelm acknowledges. I half want to throw open the door and confront both of them, the other half wanting to keep listening. I decide on the latter, considering my next course of action.

"Guess not," Felice replies sharply. "Do you still want to do this?"

There's another silence. "He's been surprisingly nice to me lately."

"So? He's pretending."

The frustration ignites in my body, and I want to barge in, defending my case. I've been looking out for my cousin in hopes of repaying the damage of what I've done, and giving him my school notes, offering tutor sessions, and promoting him to prestigious positions on the rowing team is on behalf of my courtesy.

"What if he actually changed, and we just decided to ruin his whole life."

"Oh, he's full of privilege and money, I'm sure it's not going to be that bad."

Money? Wilhelm knows fully well how I'm struggling to pay for my tuition, but he doesn't bring it up. Instead, he's thinking about himself like usual. "What if we get in trouble?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, this is kind of risky, and I'm finally in a good place again."

Felice sounds annoyed. "Fine, let's just forget it then. You change your mind every three seconds, Wille! You were just telling me about how good of an idea this is."

"What if Simon hears about what we did..."

"Wouldn't he be happy?"

"He despises August, but even he wouldn't think he deserves this," Wilhelm corrects her.

"What's the worst that's going to happen?"

"I just don't want him to think of me in that way," he says quietly.

"You're doing this for him too, you know?"

The bell rings, signalling the end of break, and jerking me out of my trance. I quickly dart into the stream of students, making my way to my next class, my mind racing at a million miles per hour at the conversation I just overheard.

They're planning to kick me out of my last year at Hillerska.

It's a wonder I thought highly of either of them, thinking they are different. At least I'm self-aware of my ill actions, but they decide to paint themselves as diligent heroes. The way they're plotting my demise is like planning a class assignment, thinking they're simply doing the greater good and service. I seldom have let such anger invigorate me, but I'm gripping the pen so hard in my hand that it leaves marks on my skin.

I catch up to Wilhelm as I'm walking back to the dorms, and he gives me a small smile, his hair flopping around his face from his bouncy strides.

"How are you doing?" I master a smile, but there are a million things I want to say and confront him about.

I guess he's becoming used to my niceness because he seems to be at ease in my presence. "I forgot how much I suck at chemistry."

"Do you want some help?"

"I think I'm alright, but thanks."

"Listen, my friends and I have decided to-" I nudge him in almost a suggestion, "-re-invite you to the secret society."

Wilhelm's eyes light up. "Oh, really?"

"We have a meeting on Thursday if you're up for it."

"I don't know..." he seems to consider, "I got a lot of stuff going on right now."

"Come on, man, it's only one night. You pledge to us, remember? Don't let us down."

Wilhelm wavers. "Okay, Thursday."

"Okay," and I grin.

Thursday night, in the dingy abandoned warehouse, I have shots lined up on the long stretch of the table. The pills are neatly arranged, and we play cards till the darkness has completely settled. I smile with genuine joy at Wilhelm's carelessness as the substances enter his body, and the camera I set up in the corner of the room captures his wrongdoings. An unsettling glee settles in my chest as I watch his plan going up in flames, and I throw my head back in another wave of laughter as he stumbles into a table, knocking the contents of the surface onto the floor.

Only a fool will try to fight fire with fire.