Fluffy Phan One-Shots

"Will you be my Prince?"

"Happy Birthday Prince Philip!" The crowd of one hundred people sang and cheered as Prince Philip Lester blew the candles out on his three foot high birthday cake. The decorations consisted of white and light blue pearls and sprayed- but edible- gold. 

He was turning twelve. A good age for a Prince. This age started the tips and lessons on being a king. He only had about ten years left until he became one- considering how old his father was. He had the same amount of time to find the perfect wife. The one who'd be his queen.

Hundreds of people sat around the young Prince. The other young princes and princesses mingled with the other rich children. The rich Nobles chatted and gossiped about the same hurtful things. They danced and laughed loudly.

Phil couldn't help but notice how the party was never really his. There were people here to celebrate, of course, but not a single one them actually cared that it was his birthday. Most were here to get their daughters to marry Nobles and Princes. Some of them were just here for the free wine being served.

Although Phil was surrounded by all these people, he still felt so alone. He didn't truly know a single person here. The only reason his own mother and father had him was to pass the royal blood.

As he sat there watching and observing, the Prince, for the first time, realized how much he hated having royal blood. Everyone here was rude and snobbish. They all had the same attitudes as his own parents. The kids around him weren't enjoying themselves either. All the girls were being forced to "act ladylike" while all the men were forced into suits and told to "keep their chins up and their chests puffed out". They were all told the same thing. "Make a good impression, don't embarrass us."

Upon sitting here, all Phil wanted to do was scream at all these people to get out. The only thing he really wanted to do was go play some game in his room, but he never could. Phil didn't get the point of hundreds of luxurious toys and other things bought for him. He was never allowed to play. He was always told to act royally. If he begged he was told that he wasn't being thankful for the life he was given.

Which, in truth, maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was being selfish. Maybe he should be thankful that all these people had shown up for his birthday, it might've been for their own benefit, but people still brought him hundreds of gifts.

What Phil didn't know, on the border of his kingdom sat a small cottage, so small it was practically a shack. The boy in there also had his birthday today. He was a few years younger, he was turning eight.

The thing about this boys birthday, there was no cake. In fact, there was no party. There were no glorious gifts and definitely no one trying to marry him. This boy carried no title other than boy or peasant or scum, it depended on the mood his parents had been that day. He was born as Daniel Howell, but he hadn't been called that in seven years. The year his father lost his job.

The boy didn't spend his day blowing out candles and being wished "Happy Birthday", he was walking around the whole kingdom on the extremely warm afternoon. He was selling chocolate, his mother's homemade recipe. People rarely bought some, though. They either had so much money they made fun of the boy instead of helping, or they just didn't want to buy chocolate from a dirty boy wearing torn up clothing.

The boy walked around, starving. He could eat chocolate, that is, if he wanted to get beaten by his father. The only money they had was the money the boy made, making chocolate was too expensive for the boy to get to eat- or, so his mother constantly said. He would go home, but even if there was food sitting on the table he wouldn't get to eat. His food only came as a reward from selling at least three bars of chocolate. If he went home now, his mother wouldn't let him eat. The boy was too respectful to even try to steal food.

"How much?" A woman holding hands with a young girl walked up to the boy.
"£2 for a bar," The boy's voice was raspy from the lack of talking mixed with the lack of water.
"I'll take two," She smiled and handed him the money. The boy only had one more to go and he'd get dinner. The boy grew excited. He hadn't gotten to eat at the table for three days. His stomach growled, he surged on.

As the skies darkened, the boy's hope shattered. He realized what had happened. He let his hopes get the best of him. Now, he didn't sell another chocolate bar and wouldn't get dinner for the fourth night in a row. He slumped, tears threatened to fall.

He walked towards home. It was time to face his mother and father. Once he got to the door, he paused. He looked beyond the small house and saw the woods. Would mother and father even notice if he never came home? He thought to himself. They treated him like rubbish anyway.

He took a deep breath and didn't open the door. He kept walking. He walked into the woods. He wandered around. The woods were dark, making every step he took feel dangerous. He heard a snap in the branches, and then a few more. He watched as animals appeared.

For a second, he felt terrified. He thought they would trample him over. The boy felt like even here he didn't belong, until the deer walked up to him. The boy warily extended his arm. The deers head fell to his touch. He pet the deer and watched its loving eyes. Maybe he did belong.

The loud chatter between the animals was loud, but it sounded happy. For once, the boy felt happy. So, he decided, this was his new home.

He ignored the oncoming snap, thinking it was just another animal to greet him. That was, until he was met by a boy coming out of the thick branches. A boy with raven black hair and the most blue eyes he'd ever seen.

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Thank you Axellnicorn for the idea of this chapter!