You Fucked Up A Perfectly Good Trolling, Is What You Did!

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Look At Him! He's Got Anxiety!

If Prince Rowan was being cheesy, he would say his destiny began when he was exactly two years old. Another troll was born that day, and he was Rowan's true love. A twist of fate, he'd say, that they shared the same hatchday. His sisters would snort and coo at him, and his brothers-in-law would gag and make smooching noises from behind his back. His husband, however, would roll his eyes and smile with his crooked little smile, and Rowan would glace to the side to spot his son doing the same, always just like his dad.

A young Rowan of 18 would have gagged and made a face just like his to-be brothers-in-law, though. He had not always loved the leader of Brozone. He hadn't even liked him. They weren't friends, and had only met a small handful of times, mostly because his young sister, Viva, was a fan of the band. She got backstage a few times mostly thanks to royal privilege, and as a good elder brother, he accompanied her. Not that she would stick with a chaperone anyway, with how much she loved following the third brother, Clay, around. Rowan was stuck with the eldest two, mostly, as the youngest was usually in his own little world, chattering at nearby small critters. The second brother, Spruce, was usually being pressured to do more crunches. Usually they were all getting pressured. By the eldest.

John Dory.

He wasn't necessarily mean, or rude. He was just demanding. And oppressive. He was friendly and smiling, but there was obsession underneath it. Always saying "perfect" this, and "perfect" that. What kind of elder brother forces his siblings into boxes just to do some legendary Perfect Harmony? Why all this need for perfection at all? How did he even get the idea in his head?

Prince Rowan supposed it didn't really matter, in the end. It's not like they were friends. And it's not like he would ever like the guy enough to stand being in the same room long enough to do any of the bonding necessary to get into his psyche. Sure, fine, he still liked seeing John. John was pretty. He was beautiful, with his big blue eyes, and his teal hair always brushed just right, and his gorgeous voice. But it still didn't matter, because he was kind of a dick.

But fate tends to have little mercy. It was a day like any other; Rowan was grudgingly walking in the market with his father, being taught economics in preparation for taking the role of King one day. He felt great pressure of his own at the idea. He could barely bring hope to himself, let alone all the other trolls, most of whom were more hopeful than him most days. He could never really understand the strength or stubbornness it took to smile every day when life was a waking nightmare. He was exhausted by it every time he had to throw on a fake one to comfort the villagers around him. Being Prince was exhausting in general. He closed his eyes for a moment, begging the gods for patience as his father prattled on about buying power while Viva happily took notes in glitter pen. He would never understand her ability to pay attention to this stuff. Actually, never mind. She was doodling.

Distracted by her nonsensical artwork, he walked right into an unsuspecting troll who was carrying a large bag of groceries. The troll stumbled and dropped the bag, various food items rolling out in disarray, and hit the ground somewhat hard. Rowan course corrected swiftly and crouched to help him, noticing slightly late that the troll he had unceremoniously knocked to the ground in the middle of the market was John Dory. He started grabbing wrapped food as John gathered his bearings, then, without acknowledging Rowan at all, he seemed to panic and start picking up his items at breakneck pace with shaking hands. The prince thought he saw scrapes on the band leader's palms, but it was a fleeting sight before John Dory was standing again with all his things in hand.

The anxiety seeping off him was almost unbearable. His tail twitched almost more than his hands did. Rowan almost asked if he was alright, but thought better of it. He would probably just take it out on his younger brothers anyway, the prince thought with distaste.

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