Author's Note: I went back this morning and made some edits to spelling mistakes I missed yesterday. Hope it's easier to read now! Also Edward is Prince Edward from Enchanted, just so everyone knows!

Kit Charming's life had changed a great deal in the last week.

For one, he had been punched in the face.

He, Kit Charming, heir to the multi-billion dollar company started by his grandfather, had been punched. In the face. It was inconceivable.

Well, not to Ella Cordona apparently.

When Ferb didn't show up at school, Kit worried. His friend never skipped. Ferb hadn't even answered his phone when Kit messaged him periodically between classes. By the final bell, Kit was freaking. He called Ferb twice before resorting to the landline. Ferb's father explained he was at the hospital with Snow White Blanchard and Ella Cordona.

Kit thought bringing flowers was a nice gesture. He didn't know much about Snow, but if the rumours already spreading on social media were true, a nice bouquet wouldn't hurt. Again, Ella thought differently.

Perhaps Kit should have called first, but how was he supposed to know Ella would throw a fit once she saw him walk around the corner. Ferb didn't seem to mind, but Kit realized how distracted his friend was when he asked Ferb how she was doing twice and he didn't answer. He kept glancing in the room at the pale girl in the bed. Kit's stomach clenched. He hated hospitals. When his grandfather's bladder cancer reached the final stage, he was moved from the hospital to his home, but the stench of antibacterial soap, bleach, and sterilized food followed him home.

Kit wasn't sure why Ella punched him. A week later, as he drove the Tremaine sisters to Philip's party, he still couldn't figure it out. All he said was he couldn't believe the rumours were true. How could someone's own family do that to someone? Ella's face turned red and the next thing he knew, his nose hurt and he could already feel the bruise near his eye developing. Ferb had to hold her back to keep her from hitting Kit again.

"You don't know anything, Kit Charming! You're a selfish, stupid boy who doesn't have the decency to slink off in a corner and mind his own damn business!"

Her screams followed him as he was escorted out of the hospital down one hall, while Ella was escorted down another. Ferb was left behind, looking at both in dismay. Kit expected his friend to follow, to check up, maybe just a phone call that night? Nothing. Ferb didn't even text.

The next day, Kit was furious. How dare Ferb take Ella's side and forget about his friend? How could he abandon Kit to that Snow girl?

But as the week passed, he noticed something: the things he used to enjoy now bothered him. Practicing his cheer routines bored him. Going shopping for the latest in men's fashion was dull. Even talking to the Tremaine sisters sparked a new level of annoyance he hadn't felt in years. He couldn't stand listening to their yammering on and on about, Kit realized, nothing important. That was the kicker. He was once so engrossed in their conversations about the latest fashion line or newest club to sneak into, but now he barely listened. Instead, he trailed the newspaper articles, reading up on Blanchard's case and other important events happening around the world. He found himself interested in them, and this bothered Kit more than he could say.

Part of him, a colossal part of him, wanted to go back to the way things were before he was punched. Yet Ella's words kept resurfacing every time he thought of picking up the latest copy of Vogue. He didn't even want to attend Philip's party, but Edward wouldn't let him get out of it.

"You've been such a downer this past week. You need to get out and have fun!" the bubbly brunette insisted.

So he picked up the Tremaine sisters and went to the party. On the way over, they kept nattering about Ella. When he tuned in, he realized what they had done.

"I think Cinderella is a wonderful name. She shouldn't be so insulted by it. I mean, if she insists on being so disgustingly dirty, it's her own fault. She earned the name," Drizella said, reapplying her red lipstick for the third time.

Anastasia nodded from the backseat of Kit's silver Camaro. "It's very clever, Drizella. You're so smart."

Kit felt the urge to throw up. This wasn't right. He wanted to turn around, but he knew if he did, he'd never hear the end of it from the girls, or Philip.

He could only imagine the pain Ella felt when her family called her such an ugly nickname. Family wasn't supposed to do that. Kit shook his head slightly, but the sisters didn't notice.

"You shouldn't call her that."

Drizella looked up from her mirror, mascara in one hand. "What did you say, Kit?"

"I said, don't call her that name. It's mean."

Drizella laughed and sounded like a braying donkey. "Oh, I get it, you're joking. Very funny, Kit!"

Anastasia laughed, but hers was hesitant. The mood had changed in the car. "Yes, very funny."

Kit stopped at a red light. They were only a block from the party. He glanced at Drizella from the corner of his eye. "How would you two like it if she called you names, like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb?"

Drizella gasped. "She would never! Why would you even suggest that?"

"Because it's the truth."

Anastasia whimpered. "You think we're dumb?"

Kit turned in the seat to look at them. "I think you two are so wrapped up in your privilege you can't even see straight. And if this is what Ella has to put up with every day, it's a wonder she hasn't punched you."

"Like she did to you?" Drizella challenged. Her face was blotchy from her furious blush.

"Yes, like she did to me. And I deserved it." The light changed and he punched on the gas, sending Drizella's cosmetic bag flying. The girls screaked and didn't stop until he reached Philip's house a minute later.

Philip lived in the Wonder District, an upper-class neighbourhood near DSNEY but a twenty minute drive from Kit's mansion in the Dazzle District up north. Hubert Baylor, Philip's father, kept another house on the outskirts of town close to the stables where he housed five of his prize-winning horses. Philip's family was known for two things: their love of horses and their desire to win. Many horse races were won at the track by the Baylor family, but Philip's interest lay in the horse itself. He told Kit on more than one occasion he would like to own his own ranch and teach lessons to children instead of following his older brothers' footsteps on the race track.

Hubert spent the majority of his time near the stables, leaving the Wonder District home in Philip's care. This meant Philip held a lot of parties, but he always kept up with his schooling. This time, Hubert was gone for a whole week and was cause for celebration, but Kit didn't feel much like celebrating as he slammed the door to his car.

Drizella and Anastasia, wearing jeans too tight and shirts the wrong shade for their skin tones, got out of the car and stared at Kit. Well, Drizella glared, but Anastasia wasn't as brave as her sister.

"You two can catch a cab home. I'm done." Kit shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stalked up the steps to Philip's house. The wrap-around porch was already crowded with guests. The front door was open and Kit went inside and headed straight for the kitchen.

Music pulsed in every room thanks to the stereo system Philip's oldest brother installed when he lived at home and had parties of his own. Kit's heart thumped along to the beat as he searched the stainless steel kitchen for a bottle of whisky. The Tremaine sisters hadn't been stupid enough to follow him, but he knew his luck wouldn't hold out. He needed a place to hide.

Avoiding everyone he could, Kit found the staircase leading to the basement and hoped his shoes didn't stain the cream carpet.

Few people knew Philip had a basement, mostly because the door was behind the staircase leading upstairs to the bedrooms and it was always shut. But Kit and Ferb had been to many sleepovers, video game nights and basketball nights at Philip's, so he knew the best places to hide.

Kit saw the bathroom door was open and slipped inside. He shut the door behind him, toed off his oxfords, and laid down in the empty tub. He cracked open the bottle of whisky and tipped it back, drinking until his head started to spin.

He wished Ferb was here. Kit hadn't spoken to his friend since the hospital incident. Thinking of Ferb made Kit take another swig. I should have called him to check up. I could have even just sent a text. Kit shook his head. He hadn't acted like a true friend. Instead, he ignored the situation, as always. He took another drink. Maybe Ella hadn't been so wrong about Kit after all. Maybe I am selfish.

Suddenly, the bathroom door flung open. A body covered in silver lunged towards the toilet and barely made it before the sound of vomiting erupted in the small bathroom.

Kit blinked. He was sure he locked that door. He sat up straighter, but the sudden rush of blood made him dizzy. Perhaps he had sampled too much of Hubert's fine whisky.

The girl clung to the toilet, "praying to the porcelain god" as people often said. He noticed her blonde hair had come out of its bun and ran in loose ringlets down her back. It was a lovely shade of strawberry blonde and looked soft to touch. In his drunken state, Kit almost reached out to touch it, but common sense kicked in and he pulled back just in time. The girl raised her head and they both gasped.

"You!" they said in unison.

Ella Cordona stared at him, her ruby lips parted in shock. Her forehead glistened with sweat and she was panting. Kit blinked. He had never thought of Ella as beautiful before, but it was hard not to when she looked as stunning as she did on the bathroom floor.

Kit wasn't sure what to do. He had never been drunk in a bathroom with a girl before, despite what the rumours implied. He glanced at the bottle of whisky and extended it to her.

"Want some?"

Ella squinted at him, her gaze flickering from the bottle to his face.

"It's not poison, promise. I should know, I've been guzzling it for the past . . ." he glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes."

Ella remained kneeling by the toilet. The smell of vomit started to fill the small space.

"If you're not going to drink, at least flush. I can't stand vomit. When I had the flu as a kid, I had to have my mom take away the bowl I used because if I saw it, or smelt it, I would throw up again."

Ella glanced at the handle and did as she was told. "What, you didn't have a maid to do it for you?" she said sarcastically.

Kit smirked. "So, you do talk. And no, I didn't. We might be rich, but my dad doesn't like hiring maids and manservants. He would rather employ them at one of his hotels and have them earn an honest living serving someone else."

Ella rolled her eyes. "How noble of him."

Kit handed her the bottle again. "Alcohol is supposed to help a hangover."

"I'm not hungover," she insisted.

"You will be tomorrow. Might as well have fun tonight."

Ella hesitated before grabbing the bottle. She took a long drink. Kit let out a low whistle.

"Save some for me, why don't you," he teased.

Ella left a third of the bottle and handed it back to him. "I'll leave you to your bathtub," she said. Kit watched as she tried to stand, but her legs shook and she started to fall. Kit reached out and caught her arm, barely stabilizing her. He helped lower her back down to the tiled floor.

"Maybe you had better rest a minute, at least until the room stops spinning," he suggested.

Ella narrowed her eyes. "Why would I want to be in some stupid bathroom with you?"

Kit shrugged. "Got anywhere better to be?"

A shadow passed over her face, causing the flush to fade from her cheeks. Kit blinked and it was gone. She shook her head. "Fine. Just until I can stand."

Kit nodded. He took a swig then handed the bottle to Ella. They soon began passing it back and forth, but only small sips this time.

The silence began to fill the room. Kit felt he should say something but he wasn't sure where to begin. You were right about me? I'm sorry for being a jerk? You're beautiful . . .

"What?"

Kit blushed. Did I say that out loud? "Nothing."

Ella nodded slowly. Another minute passed before she cleared her throat. "Sorry for punching you."

Kit looked over at her as she sat against the wall closest to the tub. He hadn't expected that.

"It's okay. I deserved it."

Ella shook her head. "No one deserves to be punched. Well, maybe Gaston does. And Grimhilde. And a few other people. But I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I'm sorry."

"I forgive you." He noticed she was shivering. Kit shrugged off his red button-up shirt, revealing his cream tank top underneath. He handed it to her. "Don't want you to freeze while you're here."

Ella stared at the shirt, her hesitation clear again. But she did take it quicker than the bottle, and she didn't hesitate to put it on once it was in her grasp. She pulled her hair back in a messy ponytail. Kit stopped breathing. Girls weren't supposed to look that breathtaking in men's shirts, or were they? Kit shook his head, moving his gaze to the medicine cabinet.

"If you want to brush your teeth, Philip keeps a spare toothbrush in the cupboard. Can't have you kissing Hercules with a mouth full of stale alcohol and vomit."

At the mention of the jock, Ella's face turned bright red. She brushed a curl behind her ear and stared at her clear high heels. They looked like they were made of glass.

"Herc and I aren't a thing," she muttered. "We're just friends."

Kit snorted. "Whatever you say, Berry."

"Berry?"

Kit blushed. He hadn't realized he had given her a nickname. "Uh, sorry. I meant Ella. Your hair . . . it just . . . it's strawberry blonde, right?"

Ella nodded. "Yeah, my mother had the same colour. Why?"
Kit shrugged. "It just . . . it's a good colour on you. I dye my mother's a lot, and I've tried to get it that shade, but you can't buy that kind of colour in a box. It's too unique."

Ella blushed. "Thanks, I think." She looked at the cabinet. "It doesn't matter anyway what people think of Hercules and me. He's got an amazing future ahead of him, and I wouldn't want him to be distracted by anything, let alone a high school romance."

Kit raised an eyebrow. "That's a little cold, don't you think?"

"High school romances rarely last," Ella said with a shrug. "Why should I pretend otherwise?"

"I don't know, maybe it's just the romantic in me, but I would like to think people can find their soul mates at any age, even if it is in high school. Don't you think that way about Snow and Ferb?"

Ella snorted. "Soul mates? You certainly are a romantic. Maybe that's why my stepsisters like you so much."

Kit shuddered. "Please don't mention those two idiots. I've had enough of them."

That caught Ella's interest. She straightened up, staring at Kit intently. "Oh? Do tell."

Kit blushed. "Drizella and Anastasia are . . . not the kind of people I want to associate with any longer."

"And who exactly do you want to 'socialize' with now?"

Kit shrugged. "I don't know. That's what I've spent the last week trying to figure out."

"Well, good luck. I'm sure Drizella and Anastasia are just crushed by the loss of your presence. And I'm sure I'll hear all about it tomorrow." She muttered the last sentence, but Kit heard her.

"What is it like living with them, and with the rest of your step-family?"

Ella bit her lip, staring at the cabinet again. "It's . . . hard. Very hard. I used to have a beautiful room on the main level next to the library, but now I . . . things changed when my father died. Things always change when someone you love dies. I just didn't think they would be so cruel to me after it happened."

Kit rested the bottle on his chest. He didn't feel much like drinking anymore. "I'm sorry they treat you so poorly. If I hadn't been such a selfish idiot, maybe I would have noticed."

Ella smirked. "You may be an idiot, but they behave – for the most part – while we're at school. Lucille would be furious if they did anything to warrant Child Protective Services coming to the house."

"Is it that bad?"

Ella reached for the bottle. Kit handed it over. "Sometimes," she said quietly.

As she drank, Kit glared at the brown shower curtain. To think he had let himself be deceived for so long. How could he had seen Drizella and Anastasia as anything but what they were: cruel, selfish children, spoiled beyond belief. But that's what you were, until some sense was knocked – or rather punched – into you, a little voice reminded him.

Kit took the bottle back and took a quick sip. He looked over at her again and noticed how her eyes were glistening. At first he thought it was a trick of the bad lighting, but then he realized it was tears.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. How was it possible for her to look this cute with snot coming out of her nose?

He shifted closer in the tub, too drunk to climb out but too concerned not to try. "Ella, what can I do?"

"It's nothing," she insisted, waving off his concern. "It's just . . ." she laughed sadly. "I snuck out of the house for the first time in years to go to a party to have fun, and instead I'm drunk in a bathroom with you crying about my life. It's ridiculous."

"I don't think it's ridiculous. I think it's brave."

"Brave?"

Kit nodded. "You were right about me. I have lived – do live – a privileged life. I don't understand a lot of what you and Snow White have had to go through. But I don't want to be that way anymore. I don't want to live with my blinders on." He shook his head. "I can't imagine losing my parents as you did, then having to live with a family who does not love me and instead uses me as a servant. I would feel so lost."

Kit reached out again and this time he caught her arm. He squeezed, getting her to look at him. "But despite everything, you have remained kind and courageous. You were there for Snow and are a good friend to Tiana, and you help so many of the younger girls in choir. I know because the cheerleaders talk and some sing with you. Despite what the Tremaines have tried to turn you into, you haven't let them win. And I hope you don't. I honestly hope you find the strength to keep going until you can leave them for good."

He let go of her arm. Ella stared at him wide-eyed, a tear trailing down her cheek. She swallowed thickly.

"Thank you, Kit Charming. I believe those are the first honest words I've heard from your mouth, and I feel very lucky to have been the recipient of them," she said softly. She grabbed a strip of toilet paper and blew her nose.

Kit smiled. "You're welcome."

He noticed a shiver pass through her. "Are you still cold? Here, the tub is big enough for two if we sit sideways."

Ella grabbed onto the side of the tub and swung over, almost hitting her head on the blue tiles. Kit chuckled as he helped her sit down.

"Want the last bit of whisky?" he asked.

Ella shook her head then leaned it against his shoulder. He could see her eyes starting to droop shut. Ah, so she's a sleepy drunk. Kit finished the last drop then rolled the bottle on the floor. When he settled back in the tub, Ella was still awake, but just barely. She had curled up beside him, her head back on his shoulder, and Kit felt this odd warmth spread from his heart to cover his chest. He swallowed thickly and tried to think of what to do. His arm seemed to know without command and ended up wrapped around Ella's shoulders, pulling her to lean against his chest. Kit blushed furiously. For someone who was rumoured to have spent whole weekends with girls, Kit had no idea what to do with Ella. She's too good for me. She's . . . amazing.

Kit leaned his head against the tiled wall, closing his eyes.

"Ella."

"Hm?" she replied sleepily.

"If things go wrong, and you need to get out, go to Charming Suites downtown. I have a room booked there for friends to crash at when they need a night out. You'll be added to the guest list."

Kit felt her head leave his chest. He opened one eye to find her staring at him in shock. Kit blinked. "What?"

Ella opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She shook her head, disbelief written on her face. "You consider me a friend?"

Kit nodded. "You are the most honest person I've ever met, Ella Cordona. I would be honoured to have you as my friend." He smirked. "Besides, who's going to punch me when I need some sense knocked into me?"

Ella laughed. "True." She nodded. "Okay. I'll keep that in mind, if I ever need it. Thank you, Kit. Your last name isn't as far from the mark as I thought."

"Wait, wait, wait – Ella thinks I'm charming? Stop the presses! I've won her over!"

Ella smacked his chest, but not hard enough to hurt. "Don't go overboard, Charming. You have a long way to go before you've won me over."

Kit took the hand that had been on his chest and held it. "And what, pray tell, must I do to earn your favour?"

Ella blushed. "Lots of things."

"Like?"

"I don't know!"

"Are you always this articulate?"

She tried to hit him again but Kit grabbed her hand and held it gently. She pouted at him. Kit laughed.

"How are you this adorable? And how did I never notice?"

Ella's blush worsened. "You think I'm adorable?"

It was Kit's turn to blush. "Among other things, yes."

Ella smirked. "Now who's being inarticulate?"

Kit rolled his eyes. "Would you quit being such a smart ass? It's very unbecoming of a lady," he mocked teasingly.

Ella laughed. "Oh, yes, how dare I tease the great Kit Charming? How dare I offend him?"

"You know, one of these days that mouth of yours is going to get you into a lot of trouble." He said, smiling as he tilted his head down closer to hers.

She smirked up at him, some locks of her curled hair falling to frame her face. "And just what are you going to do about it, Kit Charming?"

A bold thought crossed his mind. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the tension that had been building in the room since she stumbled in, or maybe it was just Kit's brain finally realizing what his heart had been too scared to acknowledge since he met Ella two years ago in homeroom, right before he met her sisters.

"I could kiss you."

The air thickened in the bathroom. Neither moved. They stared at each other. Kit couldn't believe he said that. Actually, he could, which was worse.

"You want to kiss me?"

"Maybe. No. Yes. If you want. If you don't, that's fine. We're both drunk and probably shouldn't anyway, whisky tastes awful and . . ."

He noticed she was leaning closer, her head tilted up, and her lips parted, just before the door opened.

"Woah, sorry to interrupt. I thought this bathroom was empty," said Philip, his red sweater tied around his waist.

Kit flushed. First kiss ruined. Kit glared at Philip and was about to make a snarky comment about bad timing, when he noticed Ella was no longer in his arms. Kit looked from the empty spot beside him to the door. Ella's hair had fallen out of its ponytail.

"Ella, wait!"

He heard the faint chiming of Philip's grandfather clock upstairs. It was midnight. How long had they been downstairs?

Kit tried to stand, but he almost fell over. Philip rushed over and grabbed him just before he fell.

"Ella!"

But she was gone. Kit's heart sank. Philip helped Kit straighten up before he toppled over again.

"What's going on, man? I haven't seen you all night and then I find you in the bathroom with Ella Cordona?"

"Don't tell anyone she was here, okay? Her stepmother doesn't know she snuck out and if Drizella or Anastasia see her, she'll be in trouble." Kit maneuvered around Philip and stumbled to the staircase. He noticed something shining on the ground. Kit bent over and nearly fell down. Philip caught him just as he grabbed the item. It was Ella's shoe. Kit clutched it to his chest.

"I think you've had too much to drink," Philip said gently. He guided Kit to the spare room in the basement. "Sleep it off. I'll call your dad in the morning to send over a driver."

Kit shook his head, still clutching the shoe as he laid on the mattress. "Call Ferb. He'll come get me. He'll understand."

Philip just nodded. "Text me if you need anything."

Ella, Kit's mind roared. I want Ella. He wanted that moment back, where everything felt good and right for the first time in a while. He wanted her scent in his nose again and her hair tickling his cheek. Kit clung to what memories his drunken mind could grasp, but come morning, he knew some would be gone. That scared him more than anything.