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The days before Christmas pass somehow and Wille keeps to himself most of the time. It’s not that hard. Noone cares about what he does anyway.
The entire palace has been decorated for the holidays and their own private wing is not an exception. The Christmas tree is ready in the living room on the 23rd, just as every other year and on the windowsill in the dining room the little Santa Claus Wille did in first grade sits, and next to it the one Erik did when he was at a similar age. They perfectly reflect their different personalities. Erik’s is neat and perfect. Wille’s has uneven eyes and a lopsided hat. There are candle sticks in every window and someone from their staff has put up the Christmas Curtains and swapped every tablecloth. It’s as if nothing has happened. As if everything is the way it always is. As if Erik isn’t dead.
Wille spends the most time in his room where there aren’t any Christmas decorations or lights. The Curtains are drawn if he’s not in his room he spends hours walking around in their property and the huge land that belongs to the castle until it gets dark, and he has to return back inside. Or he lies in his bed, exhausted before the day has even begun. He barely sees his parents aside from dinner where all three of them sit quietly without having a single thing to say. Everyone thinks the same thing. That they are going to celebrate their first Christmas without Erik and that every Christmas after this will be without him. The thought makes Wille feel sick.
Christmas is a time for family, his mother always says. It’s the time of the year where they don’t work as much but take time of to relax and recharge.
But they are not a family anymore- They might be mum, dad and child but they are not a family. Erik was their glue and without them they are just three broken persons who are trying to pretend that everything will be okay. Without Erik it’s obvious that they don’t even know each other.
Mum and Erik were always so close. He was her first born and the apple of her eye. He was the perfect son, the perfect Crown prince and the perfect heir.
And Wille can see just how frail she is after Erik’s death and how her grief pulls her down with everything he does. Especially now when Christmas is around the corner. She worshipped Erik but she barely knows Wille at all. But he knows that he’s everything Erik isn’t, and he knows that he’ll never fill the empty space that Erik has left. He can never live up to Erik, no matter how hard he tries.
It was always mum and Erik and then it was Wille and dad somewhere in the background and you would expect them to get closer because of that. To create their own bond. But that’s not the case. Dad and Erik shared their love for hunting, cars and motor sport. And golf, and rowing, and ice hockey. With Wille there’s nothing.
Since he got back home mum has barely spoken a word to him and every time she looks at him it’s with so much sorrow it feels like he’s going to fall apart. His dad tries to keep a conversation at dinner, but it feels like he’s more scared of the silence than anything else. It is as if they are looking at him and wish that Erik was there instead of him. Even if they would never say it out loud, they don’t have to. He knows it’s true. It should have been him and not Erik.
The guilt grows and the lump in his throat and stomach makes it impossible to eat more than a few bites before it feels like he’s going to throw up. No one says anything when he leaves the table without touching his food. No one follows him when he disappears into his room. No one knocks on his door to say good night.
Wille curls into a ball under the duvet in the huge bed. It doesn’t matter how tired and exhausted he is. He can’t sleep. His mind is racing and the pressure on his chest is building with every breath he takes.
Deep down he knows that his parents love him, but it doesn’t feel unconditional. It feels like they love him as long as he doesn’t mess up, fuss or puts up a fight. The last couple of years that’s all he’s done. A series of mistakes, one after the other. No more mistakes she had said. And he had messed up anyway. Again and again and again. He doubts they love him right now. They loved Erik despite his mistakes and Erik could make him feel better about himself even after he had disappointed their parents yet again. It feels like Erik is the only person who’s ever liked him for who he is and not wanted to change every aspect of his personality. And Simon of course. Maybe Simon could have loved him too. If he hadn’t fucked up.
It's a scary feeling that no one loves him and when he thinks about it feels like someone has twisted his stomach and stabbed him in the chest. It takes hours before he falls asleep.
-
“You’ll help us decorate the Christmas tree this evening, right?” dad asks when they see each other in the kitchen the morning after.
Mum and dad are eating breakfast when Wille steps into the room the get something to drink. Wille flinches and mum looks like she’s about to cry. He nods silently and fills a glass of water. Maybe he should stay in the kitchen and have something to eat med he can’t stand the deafening silence that laces the room, even with the Christmas music in the background. The smell of Yoghurt and egg makes him feel even more nauseous and it feels like he’s going to throw up.
Dad looks a little concerned when he doesn’t sit down at the table but he doesn’t say anything and mum has put down her own sandwich and stares blindly into the room. Wille flees back to his room, gets dressed and flees into the garden where he walks around and around and around with music blasting in his ears. It’s not until hours later when his toes are ice cold and he’s shivering that he gives up and goes back inside, takes a shower and goes to bed.
When the evening comes he feels sick again and his heart is racing in his chest and as soon as he leaves his room he just wants to go back but he knows he has to do this. A tradition is a tradition after all.
His parents are already in the living room when he walks in. They both look up. Dad smiles stiffly but mum doesn’t say a single word. Wille swallows. The Christmas music is on in the background and all the candles have been lit. There’s mulled wine, gingerbread cookies and Christmas candy on the table. Wille’s stomach turns once again and he shakes his head when dad offers him a mug.
“Let’s get it over and done with,” mum says suddenly and stands up from the couch.
She looks exhausted and her eyes are so sad when she passes by Wille and gives him a sad smile. Wille looks down on his hands and bites his lip. He remains in the middle of the floor while his parents approach the tree and begins sorting through the huge boxes with decorations. He presses a palm to his chest.
What are they even doing here? What is he doing here? Who is he trying to fool? It’s so obvious that it is the wrong son that’s here and that it would be so much better if Erik was here instead.
“Are you coming, sweetie?” mum asks and turns to him with a soft smile.
He nods and sniffles slightly. She smiles when he walks over to them, and his dad puts an arm around his shoulders.
-
He wakes up on Christmas Eve to a racing heart. It’s impossible to fall back asleep, even if it’s just 7 am and he couldn’t fall asleep last night. Instead of staying in bed he gets dressed and heads outside in the darkness. It doesn’t take long though before the scarf around his neck feels too tight and it feels like he’s going to suffocate. He pulls at it and opens his jacket before collapsing onto a bench by the water. The tears are rolling down his face as he tries to control his breathing. The water infront of him is pitch black and uncertain, but behind him the whole Palace is lit up with Christmas lights.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there with his knees to his chin and arms wrapped tightly around him but eventually he walks inside again. Even if he wishes he could disappear into the dark, icy water instead.
They eat breakfast together all three of them, but nothing has changed. It’s just like the day before. His dad tries to make conversations but gives up. Mum eats her sandwich and drinks her tea and looks like she’s about to cry any second. The chair opposite of Wille is empty.
The rest of the day isn’t much better. They have Christmas lunch with grandma. Grandpa died years ago and both of mum’s parents are also dead. Grandma has always liked him for some reason and this year it feels like she shows it even more than usual. Wille wonders how much she knows about him and Simon. If she understands it at all. The last few years her dementia has gotten a lot worse. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s for the best that she doesn’t know. She seems to struggle to remember that Erik is dead and dad has to remind her over and over again.
When she finally goes home in the afternoon all three of them collapses. They are all spent with nothing left to give. No one has the energy to put pretend when they open their gives. No one has the energy to try. Not even dad.
When Wille goes to bed, earlier than he can ever remember he wonders if it will always be like this. If it will always hurt this much and if they’ll always be this broken. And when he wakes up the day after it is as if someone has drained him of all energy. There’s nothing left. Everything is dark. Everything is empty. He doesn’t feel anything anymore. He’s a black hole.
The days pass and the only time he leaves his bed or room is to go to the bathroom. He just lies in his bed and when he doesn’t sleep, he just stares into the dark room. His phone dies after awhile but he’s too tired to charge it. He knows his parents checks on him every once in a while. He knows that someone from the staff brings him food every day. He barely eats it. He has no idea how long its been or how many days has passed but eventually the walls in his room are shrinking and shrinking and the air gets too thick to breathe. Eventually he can’t stay there anymore.
He stands up too fast and the whole room starts to spin and he has to grab the wall in order to not fall. It takes a few seconds before the dizziness passes. The hallway outside is empty and no one else seems to be awake as he makes it to Erik’s room and carefully opens the door.
It is as if time has stopped inside. The room looks completely untouched, and it seems like no one has been ready to face it yet. Everyone has been too tired. There’s a lamp in the window that lights up the room. Otherwise, the room is dark. Without checking what time it is he crawls unto the bed. The sheets have been removed but Erik’s blanket is still there, neatly folded by the end of the bed. He’s too tired to grab it so he just curls up on is side and hugs himself.
-
“Wilhelm?”
He wakes up to someone calling his name further down in the corridor and he realises he’s still in Erik’s bed. The sun has begun to rise and the snow is slowly falling unto the ground in big, fluffy snowflakes.
“Wilhelm?”
It’s dad.
“Wille?”
His legs shake badly as he walks towards the door and it feels like he’s going to collapse any second. Dark spots prickle his vision and he tries to grab something to steady himself as his legs shake more and more. Then everything gets black and his legs collapses under him and he falls.
“Wille,” someone shouts and somewhere he hears a door open.
Then there’s only darkness.
-
When he wakes up he is in his own bed again and the room his full of people and voices. He can hear mum’s voice, loud and worried. Dad is standing next to the bed. Wille recognises his bathrobe. His hand throbs and when he looks at it there’s an IV needle in it, secured with white tape. He tries to pull the hand towards him, but someone puts an hand on his arm and stops him.
“Careful,” mum says and Wille realises she’s sitting next to him on the bed. “How are you feeling?” she asks.
She gently pats his cheek before turning to someone else in the room. He can’t keep his eyes open any longer. He feels drained. His head hurts and his hand stings and he can feel his eyes tear up.
“His blood pressure is very low and he’s a little dehydrated. He’ll feel better with the IV but he needs to eat. When was the last time he ate?”
Wille doesn’t listen to his parents response but the doctor sounds concerned.
“We’ll let him rest for a bit,” he says. “I’m concerned though. We need to get him back on track.”
Wille zones out. It’s not a big deal, he thinks. He’s just felt so sick lately and it feels like they are making a fuss out if it for no reason. It’s not that he doesn’t want to eat. But everyone seems to believe that.
“Thank you,” mum says seriously.
She sounds tired and immediately it feels like someone has wrapped their hands around his throat and squeezed his chest. It’s hard to breathe and he wants them to leave him alone. He can hear the doctor and other staff leave and his parents thanking them again- Then it’s just the three of them. Mum strokes his arm and dad pulls one of the chairs closer to the bed and sits down.
“How are you?” he asks.
Wille wants to say that they are over exaggerating and that he doesn’t need a fucking IV but he can’t say anything. He knows he’s let them down now. He knows they are angry and disappointed with him.
“The doctor wans you to get some rest,” his mum says and the runs her hand through his hand with stressed motions. “But we need to talk…what’s going on, Wilhelm-”
“Kristina, not now,” dad says. “Try to get some sleep,” he continues and turns towards Wille. “We’ll talk when you feel better again.”
“Okay,” mum says after a moment of silence.
She pats her cheek before standing up.
“Okay,” she sighs.” Get some rest, please.”
-
As soon as they leave the room, he reaches for his phone that someone has put on charge on the nightstand. He has no idea how what time it is. He hardly knows what day it is. Since Christmas Eve they days have just bled together. It’s a little past 10 am and on the 30th of December. He can’t believe almost a week has passed. He can’t believe so many days have passed since he last saw Simon.
He wonders what Simon is doing right now. It feels unreal that they’ve not spoken since the end of term. For a short amount of time, they spoke to each other every day but after Lucia everything changed. And after Wille did that interview he’s only spoken to Simon a couple of times. He knows that Simon wants nothing to do with him but still, he can’t stop thinking about him. No matter how much it hurts he can’t stop. It’s like picking on a bleeding wound but at least it makes him feel something. At least he doesn’t feel completely empty inside.
He doesn’t even have a picture of Simon in his phone he realises. Not even one token for their love. He scrolls through Simon’s Instagram instead. It looks like he has had a good holiday. A nice Christmas. There are pictures from Christmas eve with Simon, Sara and Linda Infront of the tree and on a table full of food from both Sweden and Venezuela. The latest post is from last night, several pictures with Simon, Rosh and Ayub. Simon looks happy and he’s so beautiful it hurts. Without thinking he starts typing a message.
I just wanted to say sorry for everything.
I’m sorry I hurt you.
I’m sorry I was a coward.
I wish I could be a different person.
A different version of myself. A better
version. Maybe in a different life I am
and there we can be together forever.
I love you. I’m sorry.
He presses send before he can regret it. He shouldn’t contact Simon but he can’t help himself. Even if Simon doesn’t want him at least Simon will know how sorry Wille is. Pretty soon his phone begins to vibrate. Several messages after each other. He doesn’t want to look. He doesn’t want to see Simon tell him to go to hell. But then the phone starts ringing and he can vaguely see Simon’s name on the screen as he picks up.
“Hello...” he says quietly.
“Wille, what the hell. Are you alright? I thought you…I thought you… I thought you were going to hurt yourself.”
Simon sounds worried, voice loud.
Wille shakes his head as he looks at the IV in his hand. His head hurts.
“No…” he says stupidly.
“What? What do you mean no?”
“I’m not going to do anything stupid. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“You can’t message me like that,” Simon says. “We are not together anymore.”
Now Simon sounds angry. Wille doesn’t blame him. Everyone is angry with him right now and he deserves Simon’s anger more than anything else right now.
He looks the needle in his hand again. He ignores the tears in his eyes.
“Yeah…” he says and hopes that Simon won’t hear how unsteady his voice is.
“I have to go,” Simon says tiredly. He sighs and sounds tired. Of Wille probably.
“I’m sorry,” Wille says again.
Simon sighs again.
“Goodbye!” he says.
“Bye…” Wille whispers.
He lies in his bed after they have hung up. The pressure on his chest remains and his heart is racing.
Eventually he can’t stay anymore, and he has to pee so without thinking he pulls the needle from his hand. It hurts a bit and immediately starts to bleed. He sits up slowly before carefully standing up. S soon as he’s in the bathroom he wraps some toilet paper around his hand. He leans against the sink as he feels the dizziness return and has to sit down on the toilet seat in order to not pass out again.
Slowly he makes his way back to his bed again and lies down. The ripped out IV drips onto the floor and creates a pool beside the bed. When he wakes up again there’s a new IV in the back of his hand and his dad sits next to the bed.
“What are we going to do with you?” he says when he notices Wille is awake.