Work Text:
No More
And the lies they will hurt you
No more
Human kindness desert you
No more
Let’s start a revolution
December 23rd
“Felice, I-” His voice is hesitant, questioning. As though he isn’t sure about calling at all, leaving a voicemail especially.
“Felice, I’m sorry. I made a mistake. Many mistakes, so many. But this one was huge. You don’t know, at least I don’t think you do. And I shouldn’t be telling you, I just don’t have-” Rushed, stumbling, scared. She hasn’t heard his voice this way before.
“You know, I always thought it was her that ruined my life. Drove my father to – to… then spent the money that was left, that was meant for me, rushed off with some idiot… didn’t even choose wisely, left me hanging and alone. Alone in that cold, dark place. Just with our maids and some gardeners. Just the housekeeper in the end. It was her, I was so sure that it was her. And now –” His speech is slurred, obviously drunk or high. She often felt like he sounded snappy before, speaking a little too loud and fast. But now, it is the exact opposite. The words aren’t clear, it isn’t clear where one ends and the next one begins.
“I actually want you to know... I didn’t go after you because of the money. Maybe I should have. It’s what my father tried with my mother, but my grandpa saw right through that. I should have tried the same, maybe that would be the only chance for my… Well, but I didn’t. I was truly and honestly obsessed with you. Yes, unhealthy but… it is real.” She can hear that he was crying, but she can’t even imagine real tears in his eyes. She tries, but can’t come up with a visual in her head of him this way.
“It’s been me, that’s ruined my life. Just me. No one else.”
Her voice mail beeps. No more new messages. Watching her mother make finishing touches to the decoration of a huge Christmas tree in the entrance hall, snapping at some poor worker. She bites her lower lip and texts him: “I know what you did, I found out and told Wille. You really have to deal with this on your own, please stop calling me.”
December 24th
His knuckles grip the back of the bench in front of him. He is swimming in new waters and clings to this piece of wood like a lifeboat. Bjärstad’s little church is filled with entirely different people today than he has ever seen in here before. Honestly, a kind of people that he has rarely ever met before. Seen in the streets maybe, but not met. He sees Simon’s thugs a few rows in front of him, nervously chattering, wiggling their legs, laughing. And a head of dark brown hair that he would rather not think about at all. Two actually, one must be the mother.
Everyone else is here in groups, families, friends. They talk across the benches, recognize each other, hug and smile all the time. Everyone has these little creases around their eyes, as if they are waiting for something together, as if they are sharing a secret. Maybe there is a plot to kill him, the only single visitor today and maybe it is just the effect of Christmas Eve. Maybe the secret is that they will all leave to a small and warm living room, with a crooked tree, haphazardly decorated with all hands in the family getting in the way. They are probably keeping from him that they will be eating a simple meal with just some candles on the table, bickering the whole time. That’s what they are not telling him. That they will be eating the desert on the couch, opening their belts for comfort before the first present is even fished from under the tree. He knows. He can see the crinkled eyes, the quiet smiles. Joy and anticipation, that’s their big secret.
He can see fingers cramping around a makeshift stage curtain in the front, eyes peeking through the curtain. Then the hand around the curtain moves, rips it open and reveals a small choir. No school uniforms, everyone wears their own clothing. Most of them with jackets on because it’s freezing. And Simon opens again, crystal clear and loud this time. He looks down, can’t risk meeting his eyes. Still, it feels like Simon’s eyes are on him. How could they not be? He sticks out here, he has intruded on their joy and his dark black essence is seeping all over the place.
He leaves the church as fast as possible and waits, half hidden towards the side. He begins to think he has missed them, but then they come out as well. Sara, her mother, his two friends and him.
“Simon?” He rasps. “Can we talk?”
The mother seems upset, ready to fend off any stranger asking about her son. That’s probably become an everyday problem these past few weeks. But his two friends recognize him and they must think it’s about the drugs, because they reassure her. And Simon might even think the same as he hurries towards him with a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes.
“What do you want?”
“I’ve got your money. For the pills and the booze.” August gets a ton of bills from his pocket, warm in his hands because he has been clenching them, making sure they are still there.
“I thought you were broke.” Simon’s face and his words haven’t softened, but his voice has. This visit is useful for him at least.
“I am. I sold some art. Just take the money.”
Simon nods, meets his eyes in a numb stare and crumples the money into his own pocket. Clenching his fist around it just as August had. He turns around, not saying goodbye and ready to return to his group of joy.
“It was me.” August has waited a second too long, Simon already has his back towards him.
“What?” A complete lack of understanding. Simon can’t even start to think about the only logical thing that this could mean. He turns around.
“I did it. I saw you, filmed you. Or rather filmed you and then saw you. I honestly just thought he had found some girl, wanted to tease him with it later and – well, I did it. I released the video.” He is breathless. Can barely get the words out.
“August – what? Why?”
“You didn’t know? Felice… told me she found out. So, I thought everyone would know.”
Simon is quiet. Staring at him with empty eyes. “No… I didn’t know. Why?”
“Wille - Wilhelm even paid for my tuition. Before obviously. He threw my being broke in my face and then he just… did that. Without even mentioning it. And now he knows what I did. The queen found out before him I think, because she buried it. Called me about it, all professional and cold.” Maybe this is the right place for August’s confession.
Wille knew. “But – why?”
Now it’s August’s turn for an empty stare. At the ground and then back up again. “I don’t know. Because I wanted to. But mostly because I could.”
“Because you could?” There is nothing but disbelief in Simon’s voice. You ruined my life because you could.
“You know, when you watch a car accident or someone falling or some bad news that have nothing to do with you. It’s horrible, but mostly you just want to know how it all plays out.”
“But you didn’t watch. You did it.” Now the anger has returned to Simon’s face.
“I’m sorry. I really am, I don’t know what-”
Simon shakes his head. “No. No, I can’t. I’m leaving.”
He retreats, leaves August to himself and joins back into the circle of his family.
August can hear their hushed little exchange. What was that about? – It doesn’t matter. – Simon, what… – Can we just go home?
And then they go. Home where joy is waiting.
Simon loves Christmas, usually. Their singing, dancing, the tree, making Christmas dinner together. Everything. But this year it feels grey. And above all, he waits all the time to finally be alone. Waits for being able to write this in the privacy of his own room: “August did it. And you knew, but didn’t tell me.” Waits for the excitement, the stutter in his chest while staring at the chat looking for dots to indicate he is writing on the other end.
But Simon is already asleep when the replies are coming, phone still clutched in his hand.
“Yes, I know. Fuck August!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you or if it would help.”
“I found out from Felice, she played detective and found something from the photos on his Instagram. Doesn’t really matter how.”
“It doesn’t really matter anyway. My mother knew already. And did nothing, not even tell me.”
“I think… if I knew that he did and that my mother didn’t tell me or act on it. I think I wouldn’t have betrayed you. And we would still have each other.”
“Shit. I shouldn’t have sent that. Doesn’t change anything. Maybe even then I would have been too scared.”
December 25th
“You have every right to be scared. Fuck August.”
It’s Christmas Morning and both of them are lying in bed crying. Wilhelm with his hand on his galloping heart. Simon with his hand pressed on his eyes as if he could press his tears back in, back in, take him back.
Sara,
I don’t really know how we left things. I know it was Felice who told Wilhelm. I don’t understand exactly what you’re getting at or why you want to move into Hillerska full-time. But I’ve called some people and there definitely is an opportunity here. As a senior student, I have written a character reference and asked one of the teachers, Strindberg, to write a letter of recommendation. He really likes me and is popular with the school board.
I have attached some files for a scholarship you should fill out. Your ADHD and Asperger’s will really help your case, maybe you could get a letter from a therapist of yours as well.
I think the chances are high, if you still want to go through with it.
I’m sorry.
August
Sara blinks. What the hell did she just read? How did August know her mail address?
December 26th
“No, mother. You cannot be serious. You invited him? You even –” A pause and no response of the queen. And then Wilhelm muttering: “Why am I surprised, why do I even ask?”
His eyes go out of focus, staring at everyone and no one in particular.
“Wille? Wilhelm?” Wilhelm is ripped out of the vast nothingness he has been swimming in in his mind.
“Really? I don’t want to talk to you.” The nerve of August.
“Please, let’s just go outside a bit. I don’t really want to be here either. At least it’s quiet outside.” August was speaking softly.
“You always loved the Royal Family Christmas Dinner at the palace.”
“Family… not this year.” That makes Wilhelm look August straight in the eye for the first time.
“Okay, I guess, let’s go outside.”
They find a bench, sit down and Wilhelm continues to stare straight ahead. He doesn’t notice how August tries and fails to start talking multiple times.
“I’m bisexual.” August’s voice is higher than usual
“What the fuck, what are you getting at?”
“I… nothing. I just wanted you to know. I think that’s why Erik told you to trust me. He knew about you, didn’t he? Well, he knew about me. I had a huge crush on him, actually, in my first year. I was pretty obvious about it. Obvious to him, at least.” One huge jumble of words.
“He was your cousin!” Now Wilhelm can’t stay in the void, he has to react.
“Yeah. Just a crush. Nothing ever happened. And your brother wasn’t into guys as far as I know.”
“Yeah… I think so, too. Why are you telling me?”
“I don’t know. I felt like you deserved to know my secret. Nothing compared to the shit I have been putting you through.”
Wilhelm doesn’t respond, his thoughts are racing.
August rambles on. “I have never been loved back. As far as I know, not as much as I have loved people. Distant parents, you must know about that. Simon seems to love you back, though.”
Wilhelm shifts, is facing August now. “You think so?” It comes out of his mouth faster than he can stop himself.
December 27th
Wilhelm doesn’t get out of bed the next day. Malin checks on him a few times to make sure he is still there. Whether she thinks he will drown himself in the ensuite or sneak away, he has no idea. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he does the only thing he can bring up the energy to do. Text Simon.
“I saw August yesterday”
Simon’s response comes quick. “Where?”
“Royal Family Christmas Dinner”
“Oh okay. And was he being August-y?”
“Not really. Told me he was bisexual. I deserve to know his secret or something. If anything, you deserve to know it, too.”
“Wtf?! …kind of fits though.”
“Yeah, I don’t know, I don’t believe in gaydar. At least if August should have been on mine, I don’t have one.”
Texting Wilhelm feels right to Simon in the moment. But afterwards, when the little high, the fluttering is over, he doesn’t know how to survive the rest of the day. The images in his head are the most painful part. And the physical memory. He looks at his fish, he feels Wille behind him, kissing his neck, asking meaningless details about his life, soaking up Simon’s essence and hugging him in exactly the right way. Simon wants to cry but can’t.
December 28th
Most of this day is much like the last one with Wilhelm trying to get swallowed whole by his bed. Only when it has been dark outside for hours already, he decides to get up. Doesn’t shower, puts on some clothes on the top of a pile and asks Malin to drive him. He needs to breathe and in the dark, he might get away with being outside.
He makes Malin stop and park the car in some random street he has never seen before but that looks like a thousand other streets in town. He wanders, stops, breathes deeply, jogs for a few hundred meters and falls back into a stroll again. He ends up in front of a small grocery shop 15 minutes before closing time. He feels himself steering towards the glass door as though he is controlled by someone else. Besides him and Malin, the only other people in the store are a cashier and a 20-something woman with a six-pack under her arm. She is switching between staring at him and the half-empty shelf with chips, contemplating. He goes from shelf to shelf, not really sure whether he plans to buy anything or if he even has his cards with him. A grocery store at night is where reality shifts and he doesn’t know if he feels more normal than ever before just because of being here… or if it’s the weirdest thing he has ever done. He comes to a halt next to the woman selecting her chips and catches a worried look from Malin.
“I think you should take these.” He points at some bags of store-brand ranch-dressing chips he has never eaten before. “I will buy some at least.”
The woman gazes at him with an overwhelmed expression on her face, looks at the chips and then at him again – recognition clear on her face now. She doesn’t say anything for a long time and Wilhelm just holds her gaze. “I can’t, my roommate hates ranch dressing and she will kill me.” She grabs nachos instead and pays while trying very hard not to stare at him. She leaves and he stands in front of the shelf for a few more seconds before he grabs his chips.
“Crown prince Wilhelm, you have denied all ties to the sextape, but the public is not convinced. Do you miss Simon Eriksson, the other boy clearly identifiable in the video?”
The chips he bought a few seconds ago under his arm, Wilhelm blinks into a camera pointed at him. The microphone stretched tentatively towards him. Like a child on a mission but afraid to feed a zoo animal.
“Yes.” He just says it. It falls out of his mouth, easier than any statement he has made in the last weeks. Just the simplest form of truth. I miss Simon. The sliding doors stay open because he didn’t get far enough away from them yet.
“You… you miss Simon Eriksson, the classmate that you have allegedly had queer sex with?” The interviewer is as shocked as Wilhelm. Clearly just expecting to get some new unflattering photos and even those would have sold for a lot.
“Queer sex? What is that even supposed to mean… Yes, I miss him.” He is tired and not even his panic comes out to wake him up. With panic attack after panic attack, sweaty hands, dulled voice and frantic heartbeat during all of his recent public appearances, the absence now makes him feel numb and even more inadequate.
“Queer sex as in two men engaged in sexual activity, was that it? How do you identify?”
“I don’t. I’m just not straight.” And even that is more honest than he has been with himself. He doesn’t know. Before the voice in his head had kept switching between gaygaygay and Simon being an exception. But this is it. He doesn’t know, that’s the most sincere answer he can give.
“Crown Prince, was it you in the video?” The interviewer’s face is still shocked and overwhelmed. But he seems to begin to realize that he has won the lottery today. Spotting the crown prince on his late-night errand with production gear and a colleague by his side.
“Yes. No further comment.” Wilhelm wakes up and he runs.
December 29th
“Fuck, Wille, what did you do?”
That’s the message on his phone that he wakes up to. From Simon and his heart flutters. “I felt like it. Being honest.”
Yesterday, he came back to the palace with a heavy feeling in his stomach. His father said nothing but that’s exactly what Wilhelm expected. His mother didn’t look at him at all, though, and scolding or pointed remarks were usually more her style. Malin was the only one that truly met his eyes and he had hopefully interpreted the look as encouraging.
Back in his room, he searched his phone for a picture Erik took last year at the beach. That’s when he had been honest for the first time. I don’t think I’m only into girls. I don’t really know, but… I’m just wondering, whatever, I shouldn’t have said anything. Erik had stopped. They had been walking on the beach, letting the cold breeze wash away any thoughts that intruded on their shared silence. And then Wilhelm had ruined it, or so he feared, because maybe some thoughts just couldn’t be swept away that easily. But Erik had been Erik. It’s really important to talk about these things. And you always can with me. And then followed a pause, they resumed their walk in silence. It was Erik now who every once and again shared his thoughts, seemingly out of order. I will fight for you, you know. – There is nothing wrong with being gay or bisexual or whatever you want to be. – I love you, you must always remember that.
This will no longer be a Rosenqvist situation. Wilhelm wants to feel in control. He uses the picture, writes and rewrites a caption the whole night and posts it early in the morning.
Simon’s text is the only thing he reads today, no tabloids and no comments. He just listens to music, lies in bed and lets Malin bring him things to eat. His mother requests his presence in a meeting to deal with the situation, but he simply doesn’t answer, doesn’t move, doesn’t go.
“I will fight for you. That’s what the late crown prince and my exceptional brother told me when I opened up to him about my sexual orientation. I am not straight. That is all I know for certain and all that I can tell you at this time. Erik has always been my world, my idol, my confidant. That is why I will do as he promised: I will fight for myself. At the same time, I will try to live up to his promise in every way I know how. His promise in my eyes was that an empathic, open-minded prince and future king could have an impact like no other before him. That is the expectation of a royal I want to live up to. In the meantime, please respect my privacy and that of the people I love.”
December 30th
“I know it doesn’t mean anything to you. But I really respect your courage and I know Erik would be proud of you.” Today it’s a text from August that he wakes up to.
“Thanks. I still hate you, though.” He keeps the phone in his hand. Turns it around, reads some headlines, mostly neutral or positive, some bad ones. Scrolls on Instagram, sees more rainbow flags than usual and deletes as many hate comments on his post as he can manage. He turns the phone again and again, he can’t stop himself, can’t not do it. He dials Simon’s number.
“Wille, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay. Um… I don’t know if you have heard, but- I miss you.”
And Simme laughs which is the best he could have hoped for. “I might have heard something to that effect.”
“I meant it. And I mean it. I want to hear your voice, you are the only one I can talk to.” He feels free.
“You should talk to Felice. She has tried contacting you and is really worried.”
“I know… I can’t right now. She’s great but- I don’t want to talk to anyone. But you.”
“Okay.” Simon is quiet.
“How are you, Simon?”
“I’m… confused. I feel guilty actually. Did I pressure you? You shouldn’t have been under so much pressure to come out or say anything at all.”
“The world pressured me, not you. It went okay, don’t you think?” Wilhelm would like to know exactly what Simon thought of his post, but he doesn’t dare to ask.
“As good as could be expected, yeah.”
“How was Christmas? Did you see your dad?”
“It was weird. And yes, he came to the church on Christmas Eve. I sang in the choir, we talked for a minute or so afterwards. He seemed sober, that’s always something.”
“That’s nice. I’m glad you talked to him… Simme, would you like to play the piano together sometime? You could sing? Just… for a few hours or something.” He feels stupid for even suggesting it.
“Yeah. I don’t really know where, because I don’t have a piano at home. But yes, I would absolutely like that.”
“We could meet at one of our places. I could send a driver. That’s a plus about being the crown prince. Places with pianos in them and that people do what I say most of the time. Feels weird, but… I’d just have to tell Malin.”
“What about your mother?” Simon sounds tentative.
“I kind of stopped talking to her for the moment.”
And then Simon just goes all in. “Well, what are you doing tomorrow? I know Ayub and Rosh want to go out for New Year’s and just agreed to spend the night at our house for my sake. And Sara was invited to something at Felice’s. And… yeah, what about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow sounds perfect.”
December 31st
Wilhelm has never been this nervous before. He stands outside of a small country estate that a poor housekeeper must have rushed to get ready for him. Because the crown prince said so. He feels guilty but the anticipation, the excitement wins. He hasn’t felt this light in a long time. He will see Simon, hear him talk and maybe even laugh with him. Malin winks at him when the other car is arriving, but he might have started to hallucinate at this point.
“Wille!” Simon gets out of the car where he has been talking to the driver just a second ago.
Wilhelm doesn’t really get a word out, just stumbles towards Simon. “Hi!” He says it really quietly almost as if he only wants Simon to hear and no one around. Not the driver, not Malin. “Let’s go inside? Malin and her team will stay around the house, so we can have privacy.”
Simon follows him. “Feels weird.”
Wilhelm nods slowly. “Yes, it does. I’ve only ever been during holidays and now… well. I’m glad you came, though.”
“How about we just play for a bit? Might ease us into… being here.” Seeing each other, but Simon doesn’t say that.
They sink down on to the piano stool together, very decidedly not touching at first. Then relaxing into it and touching along their sides.
Wilhelm can’t stop himself. “I really don’t want to have to try and forget about this ever again. That was my first mistake, saying that back then.”
A slow smile spreads across Simon’s face. “That fits with my plan, you still have to teach me to read sheet music. I can play the school song now, but it’s only by ear.”
“I will.” Wilhelm laughs, giggles almost.
He gets into it, gestures at the sheets in front of them, presses some keys, looks at Simon as much as he can. Then he asks Simon to follow his lead, guides his fingers, their hands touching more than they have to.
At some point, Simon takes his hands away, stops playing, turns and looks directly at Wilhelm. “What is this day? Where is this going? Where are we going? I wanted to just enjoy it, but I’m a mess. I swear, I’m not usually such a slow learner.”
“I don’t know. I want to be with you and I will try everything to make that work.” Wilhelm answers cautiously. Somehow, the tables have turned during the last month. He felt like Simon pushed him over a cliff at first, into a sea of… dangerous freedom. But now it’s him that grabs Simon as hard as he can, pulling him over the edge with him.
Simon just nods, swallows.
“What do you think, Simon?”
“I- I love you, Wilhelm.” Simon smiles at him shyly. “That’s all I think right now.”
Wilhelm’s heart is full, pumping steadily but blooming with warmth.
January 1st
Voicemail again. “Felice, I-”
“What do you want, August?” Felice is tired, but her voice isn’t as harsh as her words.
“Wh-what, you answered?” Pure shock.
“Isn’t that usually what you hope for when calling people?”
“Yes, of course. I just didn’t expect you to want to talk to me any time soon.”
“Any time soon? So, you did expect me to forgive you at some point.” She’s amused, honestly. But making him sweat a little bit couldn’t hurt.
“I… just thought that at some point we would be back at school and not talking to me could make things difficult. That’s all. I didn’t expect anything, I swear…” He is shy like August never used to be shy. Except maybe right before they used to have sex. When he was unable to look into her eyes. That stage when kissing turns into touching and a decision has to be made. To have sex or not to have sex.
She laughs a little. “Yeah, whatever. Why did you call?”
“I just wanted to wish you a happy new year. I think.”
“You think? Sounds like you have been trying on a human suit for the last few days.”
“A human suit? What?”
“You know, like Hannibal Lecter or something. Like you have been trying out what it’s like to just behave like a normal human being.”
August laughs and sounds a little crazed. “Maybe. Feels better than the alternative.”