Main Summary: A few years ago, Roman had gone around the world to find his wayward twin brother. Now, he hardly let Remus leave his side. To get away from his brother's pity, Remus visits a strip club, expecting a few hours of freedom, but finds muc...
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Remus Prince was the unluckiest bastard in the whole world.
Okay, yeah, that was a total lie, given that he was a) not at all an actual bastard; b) living in a duplex that his parents bought for him and his twin brother for getting into college, despite never finishing; c) having his bills paid by them until he "got back on his feet;" and, oh yeah, let's not forget that d) he had a fucking trust fund. And on top of all that bullshit, his parents were, by most measured standards, disgustingly supportive of not only Roman's life and decisions, but his, too.
Remus came out as gay? All the Pride merch his little heart desired.
Roman came out as trans, gay, and was in a poly relationship? Instant acceptance, a binder, and automatic plus-twos to all family events.
Remus dropped out of college? "We support your decisions, honey. You do what's best for you."
Roman decided to go into acting without their financial support? "We're so proud of you, son, both of you, and we're always here if you need us."
You get the idea. Even if they weren't actually always around, they were willing to pay for anything either he or Roman wanted or needed.
Remus was acting out and doing badly in school? They got him a private tutor.
Suddenly, when provided with a well-compensated educator who actually let him explore whatever and however he wanted, his learning increased exponentially! Wow, what a miracle! Seems as if, when there was a problem, you could just throw money at it.
Remus hadn't been stupid, just under stimulated. He didn't do the homework his teachers gave him, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it. It was the principle of the thing, really; Remus didn't like being told what to do or how to think, not by people who thought they were better or had some kind of authority over him.
The private tutors had helped. So of course he was constantly made aware of the sheer scope of privilege一and money一he had at his disposal. So was Roman, who had been a straight-up bully in middle school一or so Remus had heard一up until he met Patton and Virgil in high school and learned firsthand from them about how to be a decent person. Meanwhile, Remus was diving into advanced economics and philosophy and all sorts of other topics that made him realize just how fucked up the country they called home was. Their parents didn't bat an eye when Remus declared he was going to take down the corrupt government and install a kangaroo court of justice and equality. They just smiled fondly and asked him if he had a plan to escape prison afterwards before going back to whatever it was they cared about more at the time. (Of course he had an escape plan.)
And as long as he had a plan "for his future", they didn't care. They never cared much.
He didn't hate his family. He knew they accepted him unconditionally. He knew they "cared" in their own way. He loved them right back, truly he did. It was just hard to say. Hard to believe, too, sometimes. Most times. All the time, really, what with how he was: intrusive thoughts, no brain-to-mouth filter, impulsivity and chaos out the ass. They were his family. They had to love him. Or at least his twin had to.
