My Demons (Book 1)

Chapter 11: The Prince Can't Dance.

EDITED

Alex's p.o.v

There's going to be a fucking ball! If I'd have known that, I wouldn't have ever thought about being King. A ball. I snorted, what a stupid idea! Why would someone even come up with the idea of people having to dance in public or be rejected and scarred for the rest of their lives, because the humiliation and embarrassment from being in an awful social situation nearly killed them!

I put my head in my hands. Why me? Beside me Phil looked tense. His eyes glared at the empty bottle of Coke on the floor. He looked like he was going to murder it. We both sat there, deep in thought, until Phil broke the silence.

"Who are you going with?" He asked, his eyes fixed on the ground. Did the carpet look fascinating?

"I don't know yet, I haven't really given it any thought yet, but I don't want to go rea-"

"Not turning up would be a social disaster, but not showing up with a date would kill your chances of being King entirely!" He spat, looking at me now. "I know how to look good in public. How to act. What to say. It's easy...you just need some coaching first." Phil smiled, a glint of humour in his eyes.

"No." I said stubbornly. He was not going to give me lessons on how to be popular. No. It wasn't going to happen. Nope. He could beg all he wanted, but I wouldn't give in.

"Please Alex," He begged, looking at me with those big puppy eyes. Don't do it! I closed my eyes. Never!

***

We entered a vacant room, which had a bouncy, wooden floor. Phil told me it would be perfect for dance lessons. Ok, ok...I know I said I would never give in, but you should of seen his eyes. He had been pestering me for ten minutes before I caved in. In my defence, I did need all the help I could get to become King. Even if it meant spending an hour of torture with Phil.

"First things first, attitude. You need to be less tense and stubborn. The people want a King who is strict, but reasonable. Serious, yet fun. You get me?" He asked as I nodded my head slowly. "Approach me." He ordered. What?

I walked up to him and stood in front of him. He smacked his forehead. What had I done?

"No no no. Start again! You need to walk with confidence and authority like Damon. You have to stroll into a room and own it!" He half-shouted passionately. Phil really knew what he was talking about.

I wondered over to him with my head bowed down, looking up to make eye contact occasionally. His smile faded when I tripped over my shoelace. Ouch, I thought as I tied it tightly. Stupid converse, always wanting me to trip up and make myself look like a fool.

"You did good, just always make eye contact and hold your head high. Tripping up or over is not advised either."

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at him. Bet he couldn't do all of this on the first try, he probably made himself look like an idiot on more than one occasions.

Sighing, I stared at him never leaving his gaze. I walked with confidence by lifting my chin into the air and looking down upon him. He began clapping and cheering. I furrowed my brow.

"I'm not going to do that all night, it feels weird and uncomfortable."

"Who cares? You want to be King right? Then do what I tell you to...ok now from the top." He commanded, making me repeat the same exercise again and again until he was happy with ny posture, eye contact, walk, height and confidence.

I groaned loudly, when will this end?

Phil's p.o.v

We had been training for the majority of the day yesterday. I taught him how to: start a conversation with girls, enter with style, tell good jokes, keep people interested and most importantly, how royalty should act.