AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Even my own mother thinks I'm a wild party animal, set to make an embarrassing scene.
She arches a sardonic eyebrow at me. “No fountains.”
“One time, Mummy. One time,” I protest, knowing exactly what she's referring to. We were here for another royal event when I was back from university for the summer holidays. I had rather too much to drink, thanks to the fact I was new at it and had no clue what my threshold was, and nor did I care a whole lot, either. My friend, Renee, and I found a rather pretty group of women, all of whom seemed to want to flirt outrageously with us, and we got up to no good together. Cutting a long story short, I ended up in the fountain with three of the ladies, fully clothed in my regal attire, and drenched from head to foot.
As adept as they are at photographing you at your worst, a paparazzo appeared from behind a bush somewhere to record it all, and me, the fountain, and the three lovely ladies were immediately splashed over all the media the next day, from which the moniker Party Prince was born.
As our mother disappears into the crowd, my attention is claimed by Jacob Lowland, a business leader who has fingers in pies both here and in Ledonia, and a couple of other men.
“We’ll have to keep our new princess away from the likes of you, eh, Prince Alexander,” he says, his eyes bright.
“The Party Prince,” one of the other men adds. “Breaking hearts wherever he goes.”
“Oh, I’m sure—” I begin, but am cut off.
“You chew them up and spit them out faster than I can eat a hot meal,” Jacob says, and all three of them laugh.
“What’s your body count these days, eh?” one of the other men asks.
“Body count?” I question, barely believing how crass they’re being.
“What I wouldn’t give to be born a prince and have that amount of female attention,” Jacob continues.
“Bloody fantastic,” one of the other men adds, and they all nod their agreement.
I, on the other hand, do not.
I’ve had enough.
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” I say.
Jacob nudges one of his friends. “He’s spotted his latest target, I bet. We won’t stand in the way of the Party Prince.”
“Something like that,” I mumble as I make my exit.
With reluctance, I greet people as I make my way through the crowd, pausing to shake hands with a duke and exchange a few short sentences with Prince William of Britain, before I push through to the exit and find myself alone but for wait staff scurrying past with trays full of drinks.
I take a deep breath and lean up against the wall.
Will I ever shake off this image? I get it. I was a total bad boy. But those days are in the rearview mirror.
Does anyone actually care enough to get to know the real me?
A waitress in a black, form-fitting skirt and white shirt throws me a smile as she breezes past me. “Your Royal Highness,” she coos.
I give her a brief smile before I push myself off the wall and walk away from her down the hall.
“Do you need anything?” she asks as she trails behind me.
“No, I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” I tell her, pausing and turning back so as not to offend.
She bites down on her bottom lip. “I get off at midnight if you want to…you know.”
I regard the pretty waitress with a look of hope in her eyes and I know I need to find a way to let her down gently so that a) I don't hurt her feelings, and b) she doesn't run to the press, telling them some inflated story about me.
“You're so very kind, but sadly my duties won't allow it,” I tell her and her face drops. “Enjoy your evening.”
I turn and walk down the hall until I find myself outside a closed door. A furtive glance inside the darkened room suggests it’s an empty cupboard, so I slip inside and close the door over behind me, stealing a few moments of isolation before I head back to the throngs—and their opinions of me.
