Chapter Text
Once Wilhelm was back home, he wouldn't come out of his room; stuck lying in bed, having royal attendants bring him food.
He wasn't even sure if he could call the palace a ‘home’. Other than Erik, he never had anyone he could look up to. He had never had the same relationship with his parents that other kids did. Both of his parents had obviously favored Erik. He was the one that got what he wanted. He was the one that mattered. Wilhem was just some backup in case a terrible accident happened.
As a kid, Wilhelm never even thought of the possibility of having to live without his brother. Erik had always been a sort of sanctuary for Wilhelm. He could always count on Erik to care about him and his feelings. Erik always knew if he was panicking or if he was uncomfortable with a situation. He was supposed to be the main one, the important one, the person that reporters talk to first (not like he was jealous about that; Erik, having saved him multiple times from uncomfortable questions), he was the person people pay attention to, the one that would later become king. The Crown Prince. The person who was supposed to produce heirs for the throne and protect their so called “legacy” that his mom, even past the grave, would never stop taking about.
Wilhelm had been trying his hardest not to think of that. The fact that he had to produce heirs and protect the family legacies and all the other bullshit forced onto him that made him want to throw up. He was a teenager for god’s sake. He shouldn't have to worry about these things. Unfortunately, Wilhelm was the crown prince and crown princes don't worry about silly things like if they even like women and how much longer would they be able to keep up the facade of being some perfect, handsome, straight prince that does NOT have anxiety, and does NOT think he’s borderline in love with a guy.
Then he thought of Simon, and Simon ruined everything. The biracial, poor, liberal minded boy he was maybe in love with and had been trying to keep out of his mind this past week had taken over and ruined his life. If he hadn’t met Simon none of this would’ve happened but at the same time Wilhelm couldn’t even fathom never having Simon. He couldn’t imagine how he would be now if he had never gotten to hear Simons laugh, to feel his touch, to know his voice. Simon (and maybe Felice) had been the only constant fixture in his life since he found out he wasn't straight. But now he was gone. Simon was gone, and his life had entirely gone to shit. How could he stop loving Simon when he felt so strongly for him that it brought him physical pain? How could he stop loving someone he knows he can't?
Wilhelm thinks about what would be the perfect wife. The “replacement” for Simon. Someone like Felice. He thinks of how easy it would be if he was straight. Felice wanted him and he wished he wanted her too. Honestly, he loves Felice but as a sister. Not as a lover. And most surely not anywhere close to how he feels about Simon
He felt like a disappointment. Why can't he just like Felice the way she wants him to and the way he wants himself to? Why can't he just be straight? Why can't he just be like Erik? Like everyone expected him to be. A perfect, carbon copy of his brother.
He tries to think of a reason he should stay alive. A reason that makes him want to stay. Something that makes going through the pain worth it. The only thing that came to mind was Simon. But Simon was gone and he felt hopeless. Fuck the monarchy. They could easily get a replacement for him once he was gone. So, he did what he knew to do when the pain got too bad. To drink and do drugs and smoke however much was needed to make all the thoughts go away. So the only thing in his head was the relaxed, slightly fuzzy feeling of being high.
He turned over and away from his fortress of all the pillows and blankets he could find and got up to his hiding spot. In his bookcase, in one of the closed drawers, there were a collection of board games. It was a simple enough hiding spot, never attracting the attention of any of the cleaning staff or any person who would snoop through his stuff. Between the Monopoly and Operation boxes, the second to last one was a short, old, shoe box. As soon as he opened it he felt he might cry, the contents bringing back unwanted memories of him and Simon.
Moving away the small collection of polaroids, lube, and condoms he got to the bottom of the box, a place he hadn't visited in quite a while. Under the newer items in the box there was the stuff that Wille only used when it got really bad; when the voices wouldn't shut the fuck up. He picked a few joints and looked at the pill bottles, some empty and some half-full, debating in his head whether or not he should take one. He decided against it, remembering the last time he did drugs he ended up on a football field calling Simon and confessing his feelings.
He can't call Simon. Especially not while fucked up.
Wilhelm needed to keep this under wraps. He needed to pretend he was straight and that he wasn't in love with a man and wasn't in unconsensually recorded child pornography. That was just a random video of two men and not him and his lover.
But Wilhelm did want to call Simon. He wanted to talk to him a horrible amount that he could barely stop himself. But he thinks if he calls Simon and he doesn't answer or worse; He does answer and wants nothing to do with Wilhelm he might just crack. Just stop being the crown prince. Stop being anyone. Stop being alive.
He got up, grabbed the joint and a lighter, and went to his bed, reassembling the barricade of blankets and pillows. Arranging them like a shield, keeping all of the bad feelings out.
He lit it and held it up to his mouth to take a puff. He hasn't smoked in almost a year. He was 10 months clean. He inhales the smoke and automatically realizes how much he missed this.
He thought of how stupid the queen had to be to think he only had one phone, as he had multiple burner phones hidden throughout his room from his "party prince" time. Wilhelm remembered the mini-fridge and got up to see if he had any alcohol left. He found a half-empty bottle of vodka and grabbed it while getting up. Wilhelm sat on his bed and grabbed his phone, checking if Simon had updated his Instagram. It turns out, to Wilhelm’s surprise, there was a new photo on there. It was a photo of him, Linda, and Sara celebrating Christmas in Bjarstad.
The photo was of Simon, taking a selfie while holding the phone at a high angle so in the back you could see Linda and Sara having a snowball fight and laughing in the background. The photo made Wilhems heart ache. It reminded him how much he missed Simon and the aching amount of how much he wanted him. The bottle of alcohol was now substantially more empty than it was when he first picked it up. Just as he was going to check Sara's or Linda's or Simon’s friends’ accounts for any more pictures (which was definitely not creepy or stalky, thank you very much) he got an incoming video call.
He saw the contact “Henry Wales - Britain” Why the fuck was someone he hasn't talked to in multiple years video-calling him at 2 in the morning?
He tried ignoring the call but he called again and again so Wilhelm decided to answer.