Chapter Text
Simon picks up the bait cans and places them on the shelf one by one, organizing them as quickly as possible before school. He hears a car pull up the path to his house and the bait shop, and quickly shoves the last bait can he’s holding onto the shelf, before reaching up to pat down his curls and fix them, hoping he looks presentable. He nervously fiddles with his plaid shirt as well as he watches the car come closer and Donny step out.
It’s not exactly like he cares what Donny thinks… okay that’s a lie, he really cares what Donny thinks. He’s had a crush on him since the third grade when he kissed Simon under the basketball hoop. He’s never seen Donny go out with anyone who isn’t a girl, but whenever they’re alone together Donny always gives him looks, or kisses him, or reaches out to touch his arm, or does something along those lines, so he isn’t going to give up hope yet. Too bad he only compliments him and is so incredibly nice to him when they’re alone though. It feels like Donny’s a totally different person when he’s in front of his friends or other girls. Simon pretends not to notice, but he does.
Donny gets out of the car with two other girls in it. He tries not to let his heart drop at the sight, and paints on a smile as Donny comes up to the bait shop and picks out some.
“Hey Donny,” he says, aiming for casualness as he stands behind the counter.
“Hey…”
“Simon.”
“Right, Simon,” Donny repeats, and Simon urges his heart to stop the way it tightens with sadness at the fact that he pretended to forget Simon’s name in the presence of the two girls. “How much?”
“Oh no, no charge. A deal’s a deal. Free bait in exchange for never having to take the bus to school again, like we talked about.”
“Great, thanks,” Donny replies, heading to put the bait into the trunk of his car.
“Simon,” he hears his mama call out as he sees her step out onto the porch. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Yeah,” he responds, quickly glancing at the way both the girls are laughing at something Donny said before heading over to his mama.
“So, did he ask you to the homecoming dance yet?” His mama asks.
“Mama! Please!” He says, then sighs, trying not to appear too disappointed and upset her, “and no, no he didn’t.”
“I’m your mother, it’s my job to embarrass you,” Linda jokes, “and I’m sure he will mi amor. Come home right after school, we have a lot of work to do around here.”
“Yeah, maybe he will,” Simon says, knowing full well there’s no way Donny will ever go with someone like him to Homecoming. It is fun to dream though.
He walks up to the car and notices that there’s no room for him to sit, with the girls taking up two of the seats and all their things including purses and even an extra outfit taking up the other seat.
“Hey,” he greets them, “there’s no room for me to sit,” he says, hoping that they’ll get the hint and move their things.
“Sure there is. Come on, climb in,” Donny says, flashing him a smile.
“No, bait boy is right, there’s no room. Brooke’s already wrinkling my after-lunch outfit.”
“No I’m not!”
“Chelsea,” Simon sighs, already having enough of these two girls this morning. All they’ve done is given him nothing but shit since he’d first met them in the first years of school. “This is high school, not Vegas. You don’t need a costume change.”
Donny stifles a laugh, but the excitement from making him laugh is fleeting, as Chelsea responds, “right, maybe I don’t need a costume change, but you might wanna consider it.”
He can’t help but look down at his clothes. When he looks back up, Donny’s looking at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, Simon. Hey, thanks for the bait. Hopefully there will be room next time.”
“Oh, okay, um see you, I guess,” Simon says softly.
“Bye,” Donny replies with a wink before pulling away.
He turns around and walks back toward where his mama is standing, having watched the whole thing. His mama gets into the car and he gets into the passenger seat, trying to ignore the way she’s looking at him.
“They’re just teenage girls, Simon. Teenage girls are unfortunately terribly rude like that sometimes. They’re probably jealous of you,” she says, obviously trying to make him feel better as she starts the car and heads down the driveway.
“Yeah, whatever,” he replies, wishing they could just drop the subject.
His wish comes true, but not in the way he would have liked. His mama’s earpiece starts ringing, and she places it in her ear.
“It’s Linda. Yes, sir. No, sir. Right away.”
“You’re leaving again?” He asks, not wanting her to go.
“Two days, max. It’s no big deal. It’s just a routine op.”
“Yeah, that’s what you always say. Just be careful, okay?”
“Always,” his mama replies. “You and me, mijo.”
“You and me, mama.”
________________
“His Royal Highness, Wilhelm Montoya Fiore. Prince of Costa Luna,” his royal tailor announces as he practices walking down the stairs. “And you’re walking, and walking as your adoring subjects welcome you.”
“Dimitri, my coronation is one month away. Why do we have to practice now?” Wilhelm asks.
“The rehearsal is so that everything will be perfect. Príncipe, what a beautiful coronation suit you are wearing. Who, may I ask, designed it?”
“You did, Mr. Elegante,” Wilhelm replies, laughing at his tailor’s ever boastful attitude, although it is truly deserved. His tailor is one of a kind when it comes to making the most exquisite suits and dresses.
“So I did. I am brilliant, no?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you for coming to help my son,” his mother says to Dimitri and another woman he doesn’t recognize with her as she enters the hall. “Now that my husband has passed away, only he can become king of Costa Luna. But it is so much for someone so young. And I'm afraid that General Kane will take advantage of that.
“No, I'll be here, Kristina. I'll protect her like she's my own,” the unknown woman says.
“I know you will, Major Eriksson. I know you will.”
Music starts playing and Dimitri turns to him. “Sounds like your music. Turn to face your subjects, Wilhelm. Honored guests, family, friends, I present to you Prince Wilhelm Montoya Fiore, heir to the throne of Costa Luna. He is willing to be your king. If any person has a reason to object, let them come forward and be heard!”
“I object,” a rough looking man in military uniform bursts into the royal hall, followed by several other men holding swords and in uniform. “The Prince is too young to be king. Costa Luna and Costa Estrella are two tiny countries who must unite and stand together against the world. Therefore, for the good of both our countries, l, General Magnus Kane, declare myself El Presidente de la Republica de las Costas.” The general then shouts and points at him and his mother. “Seize them!”
“You have to go Wilhelm!” His mother turns to him frantically. “Go now with Major Eriksson. Go now!”
“Hurry!” Major Eriksson says, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him toward an exit. “We have to get moving now!”
“Who are you?” Wilhelm asks, his heart pounding with fear in his chest as he allows this Major Eriksson woman to pull him through the palace corridors. “Where are you taking me?”
“I'm here to protect you, but you need to trust me.”
“But what about my mother?” He asks, feeling like he’s going to throw up, unable to stop thinking about how he’s just left his mother with the general who’d threatened them.
“She's going to meet us, but we need to hurry.” They run down many more corridors and staircases before he sees his mother waiting for them by one of the secret doors.
“Are you all right, Mother?” He asks, frantically running to her.
“Yes, yes, darling, yes. I knew General Kane would try something like this, so I made a plan to protect you. You must trust Major Eriksson. You must do everything she says. Do you promise me you will do that?
Wilhelm can feel his heartbeat in his ears. “Yes, Mother, I promise.”
There’s a banging against the door, and Wilhelm jumps at the noise.
“We need to move,” Major Eriksson says, once again tugging Wilhelm with him.
“Mother, where are we going?”
“No, not ‘we,’ Wilhelm. You. The General will say you abandoned the country, but I must stay, so the people know that you will return when it's safe.”
“What?” He shouts, panicking. He’s never been separated from his mother. How is he going to survive without her? He can’t leave her here! “No! Not without you!”
“Here,” his mother says, taking off the small cross necklace that she’s worn for as long as he can remember, ever since he was a little boy. She reaches around his neck and fastens it around him, snapping the clasp shut. “So, no matter what happens, you never forget you are a prince. Don't worry, my son, we will be together very soon.”
“We gotta go now. Let's go.”
Wilhelm allows himself to be pulled away down the corridor, but his eyes linger on his mother’s strong frame, the weight of the small cross necklace unfamiliar against his skin. Eventually, they round a corner and she’s no longer in his view.
The general bursts in through the door and looks around, not seeing the prince anywhere. “Hurry up! Inside! Go!” He shouts, his eyes landing on Kristina.
“You will never find him,” she says, crossing her arms resolutely. “And as long as he remains free, there will be hope in Costa Luna.”
“I could not agree more,” the general spits out with false resignation. “But the Prince is only a boy, madam. He will contact his mother. And when he does, I will bring him back to Costa Luna, where he will rot with his mother in a tiny dirt cell. You will both become a tragic symbol of futility to those who would defy me. Take her away!”