Chapter Text
Once upon a terrible time in a village distinct of crumbling, shallow foundations, wretched smelling sewers, and economic poverty-, lived an adolescent boy.This innocent boy wasn’t supported or consoled for his well-founded fear of others. In lieu, he was ridiculed and feared for his haggard appearance!
Every gay, oh sorry I meant every day, step-father Cronus Strum, would ruthlessly exploit him to near death with vigorous tasks. Afterward, his stepbrother, Remus Strum, would typically regard him as horribly as he would a personal servant.
On the few anxious days he could go out, townsfolk young and old alike would throw stones and other various objects with the intent to drive him away. Now he doesn’t go out much because of the horrendous treatment by his peers.
“Why do they hate him?” you may ask. Well, in fact, he used to be adored by the town. His father, Emile, was the kindest man that one could know. Emile met Cronus and fell in love with the facade the wicked man portrayed. One day his father went out and never returned; so along with the abandonment issues, Cronus had to go and spread rumors that he murdered his father in cold blood.
For the present, he overwhelmingly preferred abuse by his father and wicked brother to the humiliation by his peers. I assume you are curious as to who this poor boy was; his name was undoubtedly, Virgil Wicker.
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“Virgil!” He undoubtedly heard Cronus yell. “Get down here!” Virgil was dejected to inevitably surrender his, now, almost completed drawing of the grand palace.
He undoubtedly is a skilled artist, if only his stepfather would compensate him for his strenuous labor - so he can procure adequate supplies, of course. He glanced longingly out his window for a moment at the magnificent castle and thought bitterly about the smart, egotistical prince.
‘Why does he get to sit up there drinking fancy Gatorade, without a care in the world, while he is down here having to -
“Virgil get your ass down here!” He was wrenched from his internal rant. He ran out the flimsy door, frantically grabbing his patchwork jacket off his filthy bed, and hurried down the stairs two at a time. He found Cronus near the door, a letter in ruthless hand. A dove white envelope with - ‘with a wax stamp from the Royal Palace?’ Virgil thought.
“Finally! Took you long enough. Let me guess you were fondly dreaming about that ignorant - I mean your stupid prince again?” Virgil's bruised face naturally turned beet red.“Oh, I can just imagine,” Cronus typically began with a jaunty air of playfulness along with him. “ ‘Prince I love you! Prince, I do! When we are apart, my heart beats only for you!’ ” he fake swooned onto the couch.
“Oh shut it,” Virgil muttered fiercely. Cronus instantly freezes, snapping his head toward the now terrified boy and sending a death glare his way, all the while saying impatiently.
“I didn’t hear you - what did you say?!” the wicked stepfather snarled viciously, slowly walking to Virgil. He stiffened and began nervously to panic.
“Oh, uh, I-i-di-didn’t say any-anything,” Virgil stuttered as he backed away - right into the wall.‘Crap,’ he thought bitterly.‘This isn’t going to end well.’ Cronus closed in on Virgil took a rough grip of his hair and whispered in his ear,
“You better not have,” in a menacing tone. He flung Virgil to the ground with a sickening CRACK and stomped away towards the forgotten letter. He was left shaking and scared with a developing bruise on this rib cage. The elder turned back to Virgil with a pitiless glare and said. “We have been invited to a ball, but with your rebellious behavior, you will not be attending.”He threw the letter at Virgil who scrambled to pick it up.
‘The Royal Palace,’ Virgil thought as he saw the blood-red wax seal of royalty. ‘Oh, I really want to go so I can meet the prince.’ It was being hosted by the king to find the prince a bride ‘Or a husband,’ Virgil mentally added. Arrive promptly by 8 pm, it said, ‘Arrive by never’ the anxious boy openly grimaced.
“I ask you to make me an elegant suit for the pleasant evening. If you intentionally sabotage the clothing in any way, shape, or form, there will be no dinner for a week. Got it, kid?” He commanded.
“Y-yes sir, Virgil replied - he was, undoubtedly, already in enough dreadful trouble as it is.
“Good boy, I will, in addition, produce a list for you to complete while I am away. I reasonably expect it to be done properly when I get back from the brilliant ball. However, if it is, not another punishment will be in place. Now go to your room; I am tired of looking at you.” He ended. Virgil scrambled off the floor and to the stairs. About the third step, Cronus added with a smirk,
“And Virgil? You might ideally want to start on the, hopefully, decent suit - the ball is merely 3 days away you know.”He turned away to trudge to his familiar room while thinking about the sarcastic comment.
‘Three days isn’t enough time! He will not think it is good enough for his majesty! Maybe… definitely! I can acquire one for him with the insufficient money I have. That surely would be more peaceful than making it from scraps - and it would look better too!’Yes, he would find Cronus a suit — on the cheaper side, of course — and announce the suit to him the night of the ball. Though it will be prolonged until he can obtain needed supplies. Virgil grabbed his pitiful wallet and went out under the guise that he was eagerly buying modern fabric. As he walked along with the cracked concrete, his mind wandered from one topic to the next yet kept coming back to that imbecile of a prince whether it be thoughts of his annoying face, or his beautiful face, his chiseled body, and his -
‘NONONONO!’ He mentally berated himself, ‘He may be a gorgeous man but also an arrogant prick compared to his brothers,” The boy continued walking, steering his thoughts away from his royal underarm stink in favor of reminiscing about art supplies and his newest drawing