Queens

1.2: Tyler

1.2: Tyler

I wake up snuggling with Josh on the couch. A dim morning glow makes its way through the thick, three hundred year old drapes. As I blink my eyes open, I see Ashley passed out on another couch, Ella and Melanie sprawled on a pull-out bed, and Mar slumped in a chair, scrolling through a feed on her phone. Once my eyes open, I realize that I won't be able to go back to sleep, so I get up and tiptoe quietly out of the room. The servants have placed cotton pajamas on the table directly outside for us, so I slip on some joggers and a white tee shirt. We all have a wardrobe at each other's castles, since we stay over so much. It's nice to feel the familiar softness of the clothing, which juxtaposes the stiff tux I was forced into last night.

I make my way to the dining room, where workers are hurrying around, setting the table and preparing for the King (Marina's dad), who's also an early riser. When they see me, they turn and nod respectfully. I give a smile and walk through the first three formal dining rooms, and finally reach the modern one. It's a smaller room, closed off from the others (god forbid someone sees that the Royals are normal people!) but it contains a regular wood table, stainless steel silverware, and some potted plants. Y'know, normal people stuff.

I guess what's not normal is the staff that approaches me, asking what I want for breakfast. I order some pancakes, and open my phone to wait for the others to arrive. Knowing my friends, it'll take a long while. I scroll through my Twitter feed, looking at the barrage of pictures from last night. I see the good ones, of us smiling and eating, and then I see the bad ones. These are the real ones that show we're less than Royals, which is something we're never supposed to do. Ashley looks blatantly drunk, Josh is more interested in me than Ash, Mar having a meltdown, and Mel frowning. Ella is nowhere to be seen, which raises even more questions and conspiracies.

Just a normal post-party morning. This is the worst part-- knowing that you'll have to go through countless PR meetings, cleaning up your reputation, and for what? More rumors? It all seems so pointless.

Of course it's pointless. When has being a Royal ever had a point? It would be much easier to just quit now before you mess up. That way they'll remember you as a good little boy and a hero, instead of the lunatic that you really are.

He usually makes his appearance in the
morning, when I'm groggy and unable to fight back properly.  And so my day begins.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

A/N
Dear Reader,
It's J! I'll be writing Tyler, Josh, and Ella from now on, so here's your first taste!
Love,
J
PS. What's the first thing you'd do if you were a Royal?