all the world's a stage // prinxiety ✔

♡ 54 - roman ♡

Roman pulled off his costume. He didn't want to let Virgil know what was on his mind, but now he had no choice because Virgil wouldn't be able to answer him comfortably.

"Are you okay?" Virgil whispered, getting as loud as he could muster.

Roman realized he'd been staring with a frown at the vanity for an extended amount of time. "Yep." He wasn't just looking at the vanity.

He was looking at the picture of him being held by his father.

"Roman," the teenager croaked out.

"You know what day it is in three days?" Roman asked quietly.

Virgil shook his head.

"September 11th." He turned to Virgil, who was gesturing towards him to come closer.

"You'll be okay," Virgil whispered. "I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

♡

Three days later, it was September 11th, 2019. Roman groaned as he woke up that morning, pretending not to know what day it was.

The door to the condo opened and Remy came in with two frappuccinos. "Here," he said, giving one to Roman. "And here." He handed him a bag with the Starbucks logo on it. Inside were cake pops, two cookies, and a chocolate filled croissant. "If you want to visit your dad, I might be able to go with you again. But I'm meeting with Connor and Aimee today so I'll be free after 3. I thought these would make up for it a little. I know you like going in the morning because barely anyone goes in the morning."

They chatted for a while before Remy had to leave for a writing session with the band.

Roman gratefully ate what Remy had bought for him.

It would have completely cheered him up most days, but today was a different day. The day. And it sucked because this was the day everyone was posting about the day on social media. So the day was the day that he avoided social media every year to stop hearing about the day because he'd already been thinking about the day on days it wasn't the day.

About an hour and a half later, he decided to go for a drive. Getting into his red car, he buckled his seatbelt and headed out. He figured he would go to Virgil's to say hi and go back quickly.

He made it to Virgil's apartment building, where he pressed Virgil's number and waited for him to come down the stairs wearing sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt.

"You're up so early," Virgil said, yawning.

"It's 11 am."

"Exactly. Oh, and my voice is back, so that's cool. Anyway, what's up?"

"Just driving around to... relax."

"Is something wrong?"

"Remember how three days ago I told you that... y'know."

Realization hit Virgil like a truck. "Oh my God, Roman." He kissed him. "We can drive around together if you want. We could stop at À La Mode or Pinkberry or something? As long as you're not alone. I just need a couple minutes to get changed and brush my teeth."

"Oh, uh, sure. Yes!"

Virgil rushed up to his apartment, and less than ten minutes later, he was rushing back down, shoving his keys into one pocket and his phone and wallet into another.

While they were driving, something was off.

Virgil didn't question it. It was a rough day for Roman, he knew.

When Roman bumped into a traffic cone and didn't realize until he ran it over, Virgil was even more concerned. "Uh, Ro? I can drive if you can't right now. Like, I get it."

"I'm good," Roman said, staring at the road ahead.

The next few minutes went completely fine and Virgil screamed when another three traffic cones were knocked down because of Roman.

"Roman!" he yelled. "Don't do this! I have my license on me and I can drive." He attempted to pull Roman's strong hands off the steering wheel.

But he wasn't strong enough to hold back the unexpected swerve, and before he knew it, he heard a deafening screech and there was a loud crash in the middle of them and two other cars in the street.

One of the drivers had a phone in hand and the other was clearly high.

Virgil screamed loudly at the wreckage of the front of the car. The glass had entirely shattered, but Virgil was okay, as the other cars had only hit the front and the driver's side.

The driver's side.

Roman.

"Shit!" He pulled an unconscious Roman from the seat. There was a large purple bruise forming on his forehead where he hit it when he had surged forward.

Shaking, he dialed 911, and it felt like forever before they came. He flipped off the two cars who were involved in the crash and his breath picked up as he talked.

He had always hated phone calls with people he didn't know.

But this was something else.

What if this was Declan all over again?

He couldn't go through it twice.

He shouldn't have gone through it once.

It felt like a stab in the stomach as a white ambulance truck with a deafening siren headed towards them and picked up Roman, letting Virgil sit in the back of the truck.

He was still reeling from it all. He could barely look at Roman, who looked beat up and sickly on the stretcher with two workers talking quietly by him.

He's not going to die.

He'll be okay.

Everything will be alright.

Those words didn't work with Declan.

Why would they work now?

"Roman... Get up," he whispered desperately. "Shit."