Ȏṅċє Ȗƿȏṅ Ѧ Ṭıṃє

Jason

Okay, so maybe Jason seemed like a perfect prince, and maybe he kind of was. But it took a lot of work to be the prince of Olympia that everyone saw. It wasn't as effortless as he tried so hard to make it look like.

Jason was under a lot of pressure, and he hated it. Granted, he was the son of the highest ranking family in the country, so a lot of pressure was kind of something he and his sister Thalia had been born with, and it was safe to say the two of them kind of handled it pretty differently.

Thalia just sort of snapped. She tried to make it ever so obvious that she didn't like any of that princessy bullshit. After five years of only seeing her with black and sometimes multi-colored streaked hair, Jason could barely remember the girl who always kept her blond hair in two braids and wore skirts every other day. It felt kind of weird to remember that Thalia didn't always have all those piercings. There was one on her left eyebrow, one on her lip, nose, five total on her ears, and one on her belly button. Jason wondered how she'd been able to do all that without being punished severely by their parents.

And Jason? He did what he was supposed to. He wore what he was told he was supposed to wear, acted how they say he's supposed to act, did what he was supposedly supposed to do. He didn't want to been seen as a weirdo for being a prince but not acting the part. And that's exactly what he did.

He could be the best actor in drama club, if he was supposed to be in drama. But as a prince, he was supposed to play sports. He did play sports, and was the captain of the joustball team. He did enjoy it, he really did, but he felt really restricted. Jason hated that the fact he was born into a royal bloodline controlled what he could and couldn't do. He was insanely jealous of Thalia's bravery and self-respect, being able to break out of the supposed tos and stereotypical boundaries. Jealous that she could be who she was. And he hated that he didn't have the guts to do it, too.

On top of it all, he hated himself. How he let himself be controlled by the media and his peers and even his parents. How he was too much of a wimp to show who he truly was, what he actually liked, his real personality. He hated how he cried himself to sleep sometimes just fron the sheer stress of everything. He just hated it all, and he just seemed to be at the center of this hate, everything else revolving around him like planets and he was the sun.

Sometimes he felt like it would just be easier to end it, end everything. End the pain and suffering he endured alone behind a closed door, end the pressure he was put under at birth, end the life he didn't want to live.

But that wasn't what a prince was supposed to do.

I swear the chapters I write keep getting shorter. Please forgive my lazy writer phase. Thanks for reading! ~Sab