What Now? (A Young Royals fanfic) [unfinished]

bedroom

Wilhelm's pov:
The ongoing droning of voices in the meeting almost put Wilhelm to sleep. He would much rather be anywhere else in the world than in this meeting. It had only been a week since school had gotten out for the winter holidays but he couldn't even count on his hands anymore the amount of meetings he'd been pushed into since. His parents and the other official looking people there usually ignored him, but they would sometimes ask him his opinion on something, which he'd usually give a half-assed answer to.

What was usually on his mind during the meetings wasn't the current economic state of Sweden or any of that other shit. It was a certain curly haired choir soloist filling up every corner and crevice. The only person who had ever cared about him besides Erik. But now they were both gone.

He focused on every detail of the boy. The curve of his nose, his messy curls, the exact shade of brown that his beautiful eyes were. He thought that if he analyzed every detail of Simon over and over again, it would help him cling to the hope that he would be able to fix this mess and get him back.

"Wilhelm. Wilhelm!" a voice said.

"Hm?" He lifted his head. He wasn't expecting anyone to notice him during this meeting.

"Mr. Brundsgörn asked your opinion on gas prices." his moms said.

"Oh uhm-"

"You weren't paying attention, were you?" her mouth set into a grim line.

"I was, I swear!," that was a lie, " I was just analyzing. I personally feel as if they're too high. They're more than-" he rambled off some random stuff and when the others in the room nodded he felt as if it was satisfactory.

•••

Wilhelm's room really has no trace of him in it. No posters, not many knickknacks. The walls were a dull yellow, his bedding was the same fancy pattern he had used since he was small. He had been meaning to put some personal touches in his room, he really had been. But he'd been saying that for 2 years now.

In a way his room symbolized his life. It was his, but it wasn't really HIS. He lived in it, he slept in it but there was nothing personal about it. His life was his, but he rarely got to control it the way he would've liked to. If he had it his way, he would be a movie director when he was older, not King of Sweden. If he had it his way, he would still be dating Simon. They could go in public together without the press following them everywhere. If he had it his way, he would have a brother who wasn't dead and parents who were affectionate.

Wilhelm went into his room, with its royals charm but none of his personal touches, and opened his closet. He changed out of the meeting clothes and into pajama pants and a graphic t-shirt. He slumped onto his bed and subconsciously went to Instagram and onto Simon's profile. Nothing new had been uploaded, but he still scrolled through it anyways.  

Thirty minutes had passed and it was now 9:45. Those meetings always got over late, but he didn't realize he'd been scrolling for 30 minutes. He decided to put his phone away and try to sleep. Although he knew he would be up until 1am per usual, it was nice to still try. Tomorrow was the Christmas Eve Gala, and he knew he had to look presentable for that otherwise his mother might as well disown him. Though with how dark his eye bags were, he wasn't sure that 1 night's sleep would get rid of them.

•••

word count: 630