The Majesty of Choice

Gerard simply doesn’t understand what it is about this dumbass that is making him think that he’s not a shitty person, but whatever it is, it needs to stop. The fact that Frank is bouncy and giggly makes him feel like someone is playing a practical joke on him. No one should be this personable and real when they’re royalty. No one can even be possibly this nice when they’re royalty. It’s infuriating. Gerard hates him. He hates Frank because of the fact that Frank is too nice.

Ten minutes ago Gerard had been chewing him out for having awful political practices but now they’re discussing bread making and Gerard doesn’t even know why the Prince knows how to make a loaf of bread? He’s the Prince, he lives in a castle, surely they have people for that.

“I just don’t think that I should be ignorant of how to do things just because I may not have to do them,” Frank shrugs, “I mean, yes, it is one thing to have people make it for you, but it’s more interesting to know what’s behind it. Also it’s pretty nifty.”

“Bread? Nifty?”

“Well, the way it rises,” Frank says.

“Why does it matter?” Gerard asks.

“Well it’s just not something that you can fully understand if you’ve never actually made bread.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“See! Maybe I am more multifaceted than you gave me credit for,” Frank replies smiling.

“Well, I’ll never know.”

“But it’s still kind of unfair that you know so much about me, and I know so little about you,” Frank says, and Gerard stares at the ground, because somehow it’s easier on his stomach not to look directly at Frank. He’s seriously not sure what on earth is going on with him, he might be getting sick or something, but all of a sudden, his stomach keeps jumping around and making him feel completely alien to his own body. The weird thing is that it’s not exactly unpleasant.

“And how would you like to correct that then?”

“Just tell me something about you, or about someone you know or anything. Balance the inequality,” Frank replies.

“You wanna balance the inequality than maybe you should start with giving me some of your unending wealth.”

“Uh,” Frank says, digging through his pocket, “all I have on me is a funny shaped rock, and a bit of old fabric.”

“I’ll take the rock,” Gerard says, holding his hand out. “Oh my god, like it looks like a horseshoe.”

“I know right,” Frank says, “it was really special to me, but you can have it. That’s all the wealth I have to offer.”

“What an awful thing to say,” Gerard shakes his head.

“How was that awful? What?”

“You said something really sweet and it pisses me off.”

“That completely makes sense,” Frank nods, “I mean, if ‘sense’ means that I don’t understand what you just said at all, and now I’m questioning all of existence, than it makes complete sense.”

“Well there’s your first class on me then, because I never make any sense.”

“Okay, do I get anything else?”

“You can have two questions for the cool shaped rock,” Gerard says, “Money will earn you more questions.”

“You’ve prostituted yourself out just so I get to know more about you?”

“Precisely,” Gerard says. “I need to pay the taxes that you keep raising.”

“I have never raised a single tax,” Frank says, “I barely know what a tax is. That would all be my Uncle’s doing.”

“That’s reassuring. But anyway, give me your first question.” To be fair, Gerard doesn’t know that much about taxes either, but he doesn’t have to prove himself to Frank, it’s not like he’s going to be given a test.

“Oh my god, I only have two, what do I start with?” Frank starts looking around at the trees and at the sky above him like they’re going to give him some idea as to what to ask. Gerard doesn’t care enough to offer a suggestion. That’s not true. For some reason he cares too much. That is precisely why he says nothing and can’t help but make an extremely transparent face that he hides by looking anywhere but at Frank.

“That’s your problem,” Gerard shrugs.

“Okay, let’s start with, tell me about your family.”

“Too broad a question, you need a hell of a lot more than just a rock for that,” Gerard says.

“Okay, tell me about your favorite person.”

“Uh, Ray, probably.”

“Tell me about Ray?”

“Ray is a fairy, he lives with us, and he’s basically like my only real parent, and he’s a friend. I mean he’s just this weird guy who has always been there and he, well, he doesn’t really need to be there, but I would never have him go, and yeah...”

“For your favorite person, you don’t seem to have a lot to say about him,” Frank says.

“I don’t know, I literally just met you,” Gerard says. “That’s the most I can say about the guy to someone I don’t know.”

“Makes sense. My second question then is, who is this important someone you lost to a lake?”

“What? Oh, I had a teddy bear when I was really young,” Gerard says, sighing, “And we went to a lake once, and oh man, Mittens just floated away. Well he didn’t float, he kind of sank.”

“So you compared my father’s death earlier to a teddy bear.”

“Yeah well you’re family consists of serial murderers under the guise of keeping the peace so I think we kind of even out.”

“You have a knack for guilt tripping,” Frank states.

“You gave me a rock and told me it was special. You said that about a fucking rock, I mean I think the both of us are guilty of guilt tripping.”

“Touché.”

“Well anyway, it’s good you’re out of questions,” Gerard says, pointing to a house only a little ways down the road, “that’s me.”

“Oh,” Frank says.

“I know, it’s like a broom cupboard in comparison,” Gerard says.

“No, it’s not that. I just kind of enjoyed talking to you. I don’t expect you to feel the same, you hate me after all.”

“Yeah,” Gerard nods, “but at least you’re not as big of a dick as I’d been giving you credit for. And I got cool ass rock out of this exchange.”

“Lucky me,” Frank says. “So about your sisters...”

“Nah, leave it,” Gerard shakes his head, “if they see you they’ll chase you up and down the town for the rest of the night. Best not let them get a glimpse of you.”

“So this is goodbye?” Frank asks him.

“Well, yeah,” Gerard replies.

“Will you be at the thing tomorrow?”

“What thing?” Gerard asks, hoping that if he pretends not to know he can somehow worm his way out of going. He doesn’t have any reasoning to back that logic, but he’s not think well right now.

“I’m like, well, the reason I’m in town is because, I’m uh, going around the kingdom, to basically just get the peoples approval,” Frank says, “So I’m going to be here until tomorrow, and then we’re leaving, and you should come see me.”

“I’m busy,” Gerard says.

“Oh,” Frank replies, “That’s a shame. I really could’ve tried to make you hate me less.”

“No can do,” Gerard replies, “but you made a valiant effort. I’ll give you that much at least.”

“But you still hate me?”

“Maybe not as a person, but I don’t know if I agree with you.”

“That’s better than nothing I guess,” Frank says.

Gerard, deciding there’s really nothing putting off leaving any longer, decides that he’d better walk away now before Frank gets him wrapped up in something else that’s going to make Gerard hate him less and less.

“I still hope to see you again sometime, Gerard,” Frank says, “or, I mean, your highness.”

Gerard grins to himself, biting his lip and resisting the temptation to turn around and glance back at him. Frank really is a good looking guy, and Gerard doesn’t know why his brain wants to acknowledge that. He’s a guy. Why on earth should Gerard be allowed or even capable of thinking him to be good looking? This is precisely why Gerard doesn’t turn around or even say anything else as a goodbye. Enough is enough. He has to get the hell away from Frank before he says something stupid.

Gerard walks slowly up the path to his house. Finally feeling the emptiness of his stomach. He hadn’t realized how long he was out while he was talking with Frank, but now he starts to realize that it’s almost dark. The sun only has a few minutes left before it completely sets. He’s not sure what he’s going to do once he gets inside. Tell Ray? Brag about it to Hattie and Olive? Go up to his room and let it sink in what just happened for another ten hours?

When Gerard does eventually open the door and walk into the house he can smell that someone’s cooking. He would be willing to bet everything he doesn’t own that Buggy, nor her daughters know how to cook. So when he enters the kitchen, he’s not surprised to see Ray standing there making a face.

“What’s wrong?”

“They said the soup was too wet,” Ray replies.

“They said what?”

“Too wet,” Ray replies, “too wet, Gerard. The soup is too wet. The Soup. Too wet. Soup.”

“Do they mean too brothy?” Gerard asks.

“No, I asked them, they said it had the right amount of broth, but it was still too wet. The soup, Gerard, the soup.”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Ray says.

“Did you save any?” Gerard asks, “Sorry I’m so late, I got... caught up with other things.”

“Uh, well it depends,” Ray says.

“Depends on what?”

“I’ve only got enough for you if you agree to tell me what’s got you smiling like that,” he replies, and Gerard forgot how bad he was at covering up the way he feels. Gerard is a very bad liar, and he’s very bad at making his face empty, so usually, everyone in the room knows what he’s thinking at all hours of the day.

“It’s... you’re not going to believe me,” Gerard says, watching Ray grab a bowl and start to get him some food.

“Spill, or you don’t get any food,” Ray responds.

“I know you better than that,” Gerard replies, squinting his eyes. Ray wouldn’t withhold food from Gerard if he’d just stabbed the guy in the shoulder. He’s too nice, sometimes too nice for his own good.

“Alright fine,” He says, pushing the bowl in front of him and setting the spoon beside it. Gerard doesn’t find the soup to be too wet, but that’s just his opinion.

“You’re still gonna tell me why you look like that though, right?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nods, grappling with how to tell him.

“Spill.”

Gerard sighs, “Ray, I met the fucking Prince.”

“You met the who now?”

“The fucking Prince!” Gerard says, louder.

“Shhhh!” Ray says, then gestures to the doorway, “not with them in the next room, okay?”

Gerard nods, “I’m going to eat upstairs then.”

“I’ll come with you!” Ray says, and they walk as quickly away from the sitting room as they can while Gerard is carrying a bowl of soup.

“Tell me every single last detail that you have to tell,” Ray says to him, and Gerard knows that the order was inadvertent, but he frowns at it anyway. He settles himself down onto his bed, and Ray grabs the chair in the corner of the room, which would be at a desk if the girls hadn’t decided to repossess it as their own. What they intend to do with a desk, Gerard doesn’t know, but he’s sure it involves something creepy and some impossibly attained hairs from the Prince’s head.

“So, well, I mean I was just walking home when I saw this guy had gotten his foot stuck in a trap,” Gerard starts.

“What a dumbass. Please don’t tell me that was our Prince,” Ray asks, looking scared.

“It was.”

“We’re fucked,” Ray replies.

“No that’s what surprised me,” Gerard says. “I mean, he was still Edgar’s nephew, but like, as a person, he wasn’t actually that bad.”

“Hattie and Olive are getting to you,” Ray shakes his head.

“No! That’s not it, it wasn’t about his looks, I mean, he doesn’t look bad in person I can tell you that, but he was, like, nice? I still hate him, don’t get me wrong, but I wouldn’t mind him nearly as much as Edgar.”

“Are you trying to tell me he was hunky?”

“Oh my god!” Gerard groans, “He asked the same thing.”

“He asked you what now?”

“He asked me if I thought he was good looking!” Gerard says, “What was that about?”

“You’re too young for that, Gerard,” Ray shakes his head.

“I’m older than the Prince.”

“Maybe I’m just too old for that,” Ray shakes his head.

“Too old for what?” Gerard asks, “He’s a guy.”

“Oh you’re so naïve,” Ray shakes his head. “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s like six o’clock.”

“I’m going to bed!” Ray replies.

“At six o’clock?”

“Gotta wake up early!” He calls back as he leaves the room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“So tired!” Ray shouts.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too,” Ray shouts back, and Gerard, resignedly sets his bowl on the ground before falling back into bed and wondering how on earth he is going to get out of going to the event tomorrow. And also how on earth he is going to get those piercing brown eyes Frank had out of his head.

Notes

There is a good chance that this is going to be the last chapter if I can't drum up enough attention to make it worth continuing.