Young Royals: What...now?

Rules.

Simon

Simon arrived at the coffee shop at 8:50, and Felice was already sitting at a table, reading a book, and sipping her coffee- a frappuccino, he guessed from the looks of it, frothy on top with a light caramel-colored liquid below.

"Hey," Simon said as he slung his bag onto the chair opposite her. "Let me go get something, and I'll be right there."

She gave him a quick smile and a nod. "Sure!"

He was thankful for the line at the register. It gave him a few more moments to practice this conversation in his head. She was definitely going to ask him what he had been thinking, and he would respond – wait, how was he going to respond? That he was drunk? No, because he wasn't. He had been with his mom, for goodness' sakes. That he was hyped on endorphins and just made a mistake? That was the easiest-to-explain version, probably. Endorphins make people do stupid stuff, right?

As his luck would have it, the cashier was especially efficient this morning, giving him way less time to rehearse than he had anticipated.

"What would you like today?"

"Um, a chai tea latte, extra foam, large," he answered in a practiced voice. He had been ordering coffee at this spot for years, and he always got the exact same thing. Creature of habit, his friends always said.

What else would she ask? If they were getting back together. She would definitely ask that. And how would he respond? No way in hell? Ooh, or he could just say talk to Wilhelm. The ball was in his court anyways.

Again, the service was coffeehouse miracle levels of fast today, and he had returned to their table within 5 minutes. Damn them.

"So...how was last night?" Felice asked, with an almost maniacal grin on her face. He could tell that she was loving this.

"Ha ha, Felice," he replied, giving her a pointed look which wiped the near-crazed expression off of her face. "It was...fine." He sipped the foam off the top of his latte, delicately using his tongue to wipe off the extra froth from his upper lip.

"Looked like you were having quite the party, the two of you," she remarked, her chin resting on her propped-up palm.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping me?" he chided her, letting loose some of his pent-up frustration at the entire situation he had found himself in.

"Yes. Sorry. Help," she replied, lacing her fingers together on the table as if she were a therapist. "So, how did you feel about the situation you found yourself in last evening, young man?"

Simon laughed, rolling his eyes and throwing his palm onto his face. "I mean, it was great. Everything I could have asked for. It just, you know, can't last. I guess I'm glad I had it, but it doesn't change anything."

"Go on," said Felice in a professorial tone.

"Felice!" he snapped as she fell into a heap of giggles.

"Ok, sorry. Help. But seriously, you don't think this changes anything?" she asked, coaxing him to the answer that she obviously was hoping for.

"I don't think so. Yes, we have chemistry, but that's nothing new. I'm not going to sneak around in dark corners to be with him. He needs to figure his shit out. And when he does, I'll be here, but I'm not gonna lower myself to that level."

"But Simon, you have to understand," Felice protested. "That's just how it's done in this circle. You can date people for years before letting it go public, because the media will crush a new relationship like a tin can. The royal families typically don't let on to the media until the couple is about to be engaged, for Christ's sakes! It lets the couple figure out if they're a good fit before the media craze."