Page 15 of Royal Crush
He pulled a face but spared me his usual lecture on healthy fats and macros and whatever other nutrition fad he was currently obsessed with. “You and I both know you don’t love coming here, but you seem more miserable than usual.” Hecracked the top of his juice and took down half before putting it between his legs and tilting backward in his chair. “Want me to play therapist?”
I rolled my eyes. “I have a therapist, thank you. One whose kid I’m putting through law school.” Which was actually true. I’d funded a scholarship for her son after his dad passed and took half her income. But it was also true that the amount of money I spent on private therapy could have probably put a fleet of children through college.
Erik laughed and dropped forward onto his front wheels. “Fine. Friend to friend, then? Because you’re really killing the mood here.”
I grimaced. I knew I could be a buzzkill. Even my stick-up-his-ass brother reminded me every time we went out together. But Erik wasn’t wrong. I was still reeling from my encounter with Aleric King in the bathroom after the table read. It wasn’t just him though. He was a symptom in the existential crisis that was only getting worse as the year went on.
But at least, for now, he was an easy person to blame my melancholy on.
“It’s this television show bullshit.”
He sighed, but he wasn’t annoyed. Out of everyone I knew, he understood the most. He’d helped me draft my statement to the studio before they chose the cast, and he was as upset as I was when my email was entirely disregarded.
“How bad is it?”
“I’ve only seen them read the first script,” I confessed, “but it doesn’t bode well. The jackass they have playing me didn’t even know I use a catheter.”
He grimaced. “Shit. You think it’ll come up in the show?”
“Probably not. I’m pretty sure someone used the CliffsNotes version of my book to write the script.” I scrubbed a hand downmy face like maybe that could help wipe away some of my frustration.
It didn’t.
“I think my parents will murder me if I cause any more upset with this production though. My brother thinks I should walk away and just let them do whatever it is they want to do.”
Erik frowned. “I…suppose that’s an option?”
“It’s not a fucking option. If I do that and it turns out to be absolute shit, people are going to think I endorsed it. It feels like…” I trailed off, my hands squeezing my wheels tightly enough to make my knuckles hurt. “My experience keeps getting dismissed in favor of my accomplishments. Like being a prince and having money and writing a book and doing sports somehow negates the agony I feel most days. Like the moments I want to give up don’t matter because oh, look what a fucking inspiration I am.”
He deflated. “I understand.”
He did. But also, he didn’t. Not in the same way. He was a semi-famous professional athlete, but at the end of the day, he was just a man. Erik didn’t have the weight of a title pressing down on his shoulders. He wasn’t being stalked by paparazzi at every turn, despite the laws the country passed after my accident.
If he decided to give up what he was doing now and live the rest of his life like a hermit in some wheelchair-accessible cave one day, no one would bat an eye. That option would never be mine. Even if I gave up my title, I was still the son of a king and queen. I was still the brother of a future ruler of an entire goddamn country.
I would always be this: a public commodity that needed to exist in a way that made the masses comfortable. There was no room for ugly reality. It was why, no matter what my parents wanted, I would die alone.
“So your options are to deal with the fuckery of being on set and hoping that someone will listen to some of the things you say,” Erik said, ticking off one finger, “or saying fuck it, washing your hands of it, and dealing with the fallout when inevitably you get dragged into interviews perpetuating misinformation.”
“That about sums it up.”
He stared, then burst into laughter. “Your life sucks.”
“Yes.”
“You need to get laid.”
“Also, yes.” It was true, but I hated that the second he said that, the first person who popped into my head was Aleric. I had no business wanting him. Ididn’twant him, damn it. He was just alwaysthere.
And okay, so he was striking in an obnoxiously handsome way.
Oh, and his smile was nice.
And he was so damnedobedient, which made me feel…no. Nope. I was not entertaining that thought.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Erik said, his laughter abruptly dying.
My cheeks flushed in spite of myself, and I went for a lie because it was a lot easier than the truth. “You know I don’t bother keeping secrets from you.”
