Work Text:
There’s a hole, in my soul
I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it
And there’s a hole, in my soul
Can you fill it? Can you fill it?
Flaws by Bastille
Henry is staring blankly at a bulleted list in his hands. Alex Claremont-Diaz’s fact sheet to be precise, hastily put together by The White House Staff to prepare him to play Best Friend to the First Son role most convincingly.
The irony of the whole situation is glaring, infuriating. It is ridiculous, Henry reflects, how much energy he spends trying to keep a low profile on his obsession with Alex Claremont-Diaz, the poster boy for so-called American Freedom.
Ah, who is he kidding? Henry probably knows most, if not all, of the facts on this sheet... Because no matter how much he tells himself to stay the fuck away, sleepless nights are long and too frequent for his liking, and Alex does raise more than enough hype as the First Son in the public eye. So there’s plenty of information to not indulge in: a Wikipedia article, @fsotus Twitter and Instagram accounts, YouTube videos, tons of yellow press scoops (with pictures), an old issue of Vogue magazine that features them both: it seems every single one of Alex’s public appearances since the Rio Olympics has been thoroughly documented by the media.
“Rio Olympics...” Henry sighs heavily, hand over his eyes; it’s where it all began, really, this inexplicable fascination with Alex. But it’s a well hidden secret, precariously guarded even from his closest people. Bea doesn’t know, Pez only suspects - he once walked in on Henry daydreaming with a tabloid in his hands: Alex, with June and Nora, dark-skinned and starry-eyed, waiting to get into some NY club. Alex in the picture is laughing with his head thrown back, white teeth sparkling, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes - not a care in the world... Such outgoing exuberance unnerves Henry... He will never be that free...
“But I stay down with my demons.” With another deep sigh, Henry brings himself back to the present. He takes a sip of his thankfully still-hot tea, sets it back down on the counter. He does need to make sure he knows those facts for tomorrow’s public appearances.
Alex Claremont-Diaz Fact Sheet
- Grew up in Austin, Texas. Father: Senator Oscar Diaz, Mother: President Ellen Claremont, both members of Democratic party. Divorced.
What’s it like being a half-mexican democrat in Texas? Henry’s mind demands context, and so he makes a mental note to brush up on his knowledge of American political demographics.
- Older sister, June Claremont-Diaz: Journalism degree from UT, currently lives in the White House.
- Fluent in Spanish
- Attended public high school in Austin: AP course load, top grades. Valedictorian. Lacrosse team
- Education: Enrolled in last year of undergrad degree in Government, Georgetown University. Honor Roll student
- Career goals: Congress before 30, or in his own words, “become the youngest elected congressman in modern history”
Henry stares at this statement in sheer horror. He cannot comprehend why anyone would willingly choose such a public career, the dirt of politics. Is Alex really that naïve to think he can make enough of a difference as an elected official? How awful, Henry thinks, to aspire to spend your life under the scrutiny of people’s judgemental eyes... He’s sure he would give up his public status in a heartbeat.
- Most admired public figure: 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama
- White House Trio: Alex, June and Nora Holleran: a mathematical genius, a brief ex-girlfriend and the only currently known friend
- Favorite books: Harry Potter series by JKR and anything on American Government
I need to ask him which one, Henry makes another mental note. Although he does seem to remember Alex mentioning PoA in one of his interviews... I bet he’s a bloody Gryffindor, if the incident at his brother’s wedding is anything to go by. How compatible with his Ravenclaw soul, Henry slips into dreamland again... He’s a goddamn Sirius to my Remus, for fuck’s sake...Why is this happening to me?!? Frustration running high, Henry takes another gulp of his tea and continues with the list.
- Music : anything from Nina Simone to Alexander Hamilton musical and Kid Cudi
- Hobbies: watching bad movies with Nora (see White House Trio), club dancing and causing international scandals by making an impertinent asshole of himself
Henry chokes on the tea... Who the fuck wrote this list??? He absolutely has to find out which genius is behind his near death experience.
- Random, mostly unhelpful facts: thinks himself highly intelligent, the smartest person in any room even, yet does the stupidest fucking things all the fucking time. Never-fucking-ever knows when to shut up (hence the need for this goddamn list)
- It stands unknown if he ever sleeps since he can be spotted drinking coffee at all hours of day and night
- Might have a budding drinking problem, as you, Your Royal Highness, had the privilege of witnessing first hand
- Must always have a freezer stocked full of Helados ice cream
- Allergies: dust, Tide detergent, shutting up (the latter cannot be stressed enough)
“Well,” Henry thinks, “this list is turning out to be much more fun than originally anticipated.”
Regardless of the overt sarcasm of the writer’s tone, it is still a pretty dry list of facts, albeit real facts, it seems. Unlike some stuff on Henry’s list (he can’t help the exasperated eye roll at the thought). HRH Prince Henry is expected to keep up appearances, a respectful facade of a royal heir. Everything on his fact sheet had to be pre-approved by the royal PR team: the result is so very sterile and dry that it is almost not about him at all, Henry reflects with sadness.
The honest to God thing is, Henry would gladly give up every privilege he has to be an average British subject, with no fame, no money or influence. He aches at the thought of having the freedom to be himself, to write poetry and anthologies of queer landmarks in British history, to travel unnoticed, to date and love whomever he wants. Openly. Without hiding. Without wearing this perpetual mask...
Yet, if he’s absolutely honest with himself, he knows he could use the media’s attention to his advantage and try to make a difference in the world, do something that matters. After all, his celebrity status pretty much guarantees that his cause will be heard. So Henry visits children in the cancer ward and spends his time with them. To his surprise and elation, he discovers that he doesn’t have to pretend with them, ever, and so he gives fully of himself, freely, happily, and discovers it to be a very rewarding vocation.
Then there’s Pez, of course. His flamboyant confidence is bright enough to hide Henry, and powerful enough to do something truly meaningful. Pez Okonjo successfully diverts spotlight from HRH Prince Henry and so they work on shelters for homeless queer youth all over the world, and no one bats an eye... If only he had the courage to come out, if he only he could shake off the crippling chains of his royal obligations, he could do so, so much more!
The tea has gone cold. The fact sheet still lies in front of him but Henry doesn’t see it anymore, he’s lost deep in his unhappy thoughts. It seems as though any self-reflection brings him back to Alex lately. Alex... He’s brilliant and fierce and brash and reckless and painfully beautiful. Henry is irrevocably drawn to him. Alex, with all of his ridiculous flaws upon his sleeves and not ashamed, while Henry has always had to bury his own deep beneath the ground...
He has to change his playlist, Henry cringes at himself. He’s becoming unbearably sappy.
The kitchen door creaks slightly and suddenly Pez is in front of him, wearing a black hat and a purple poncho with golden buttons. His eyes fall on the sheet of paper in front of Henry, and he arches an amused brow. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Why does he hate me so much, Pez?” Henry throws his arms in the air. “What did I ever do to him?”
“It’s unrequited love, darling,” Pez sings to some random tune and winks. “You do know there’s just one step from love to hate, don’t ya?”
“Oh dear Lord,” Henry facepalms in startled embarrassment. “I think David needs to be taken for a walk. Immediately.” Anything is a good excuse to run away from Pez’s helpful suggestions.
- Personal life: currently single