Just a warning: Juli does have a panic attack in this chapter and is overall very dismissive of himself and sinks into self-doubt quite often in this chapter. There's also a discussion about mental health and anxiety as well. If any of this is too much, please skip this chapter and message me. I will summarize what happens for you, so you can stay safe! :D

Enjoy!

It's strange to get dressed in clothes when you don't know what they look like, but it's Julian's reality now. Every day, he puts on clothes and he doesn't know what color they are, the pattern, or even how he looks in them. Wearing his casual clothes around the palace is fine, since it's just the staff seeing him, and most of him have known Julian since he was a small child. But this is different, now he's dressing for his Selected, for thirty-three beautiful women who are supposed to be attracted to him...and Julian has no idea if he's living up to the expectations.

The suit he's wearing is soft against his skin, and he can feel the swirling patterns of flowers on the suit, the subtle differences of texture that he's come to love. The tailor, a happy, always-on-the-move man from Swendway, Henrik, had asked Julian what he wanted to dress in for the Ball. The only thing that had come to mind were the large, beautiful flowers in the palace garden Julian would tend to with his mother. Julian never had much of a green thumb, always clumsy when pulling out weeds and seemed to over-water the flowers, but the Queen had a deft hand when it came to the gardens.

"Mommy, they're so big!"

"They'll grow even bigger when we're done, Julian, and they'll grow just for you."

Like art, Julian had found comfort in flowers, a comfort that he needs now more than ever, especially when the Welcoming Ball is slowly looming over him. He can hear the thumping of the music all the way on this side of the palace, even if he can't hear the melody yet. It's been going on for a little over an hour now, and with every passing moment, Julian was getting closer and closer to meeting his Selected again. And every emotion he was feeling, dread, excitement, anxiety, happiness, anticipation; it was all congealed together in a knot at the pit of his stomach, weighing him down, and the only thing keeping him afloat were the steady hands styling his hair.

"Do I look good, Kieran?" Julian asks, wringing his hands together in his lap.

"You look very handsome, sir," Kieran reassures, his voice as patient as ever, "just like the last sixteen times you've asked."

Julian lets out a quiet sigh at that, especially when Kieran chuckles. "Sorry, I'm just nervous." He says, closing his eyes. Sure, closing his eyes doesn't make much of a difference anymore, but the act itself is a little relief for Julian, to just close his eyes and relax for a moment.

Kieran hums. "Think of it this way, Prince Julian: you've already met them, so now it's all about building a connection with them."

"Yes, like that's so much better than first impressions." Julian drawls. There's a sharp tug on his hair and his eyes fly open at the pain. "Ah!"

"My apologies, sir, my hand slipped."

Julian snorts. "Sure it did."

"There's lot of hair gel." Kieran's voice is cheery, but there's an edge to it, and Julian can't help his slight grin.

"I know, Kieran, I deserved that." He sighs, relaxing again.

Kieran smooths his hands over Julian's hair again, rubbing over the spot he tugged apologetically. "I know you're nervous, but the women all responded well to you, sir, just based on some of the footage aired on the Report and the interviews Miss Leonardo has held."

Julian perks up in interest. "Really? I hoped some of them went well, but there were some girls I weren't sure of."

Kieran's hands leave Julian hair, finishing the look and letting the gel sit and he crosses the room, his footsteps sounding further away. "Like who?" Kieran asks. There's a shuffle in the bathroom, a scrape against the counter, and the sound of the cabinet door creaking shut, before Kieran comes back over to Julian. "I'm just going to shape your beard a little bit." He explains.

Julian rubs a hand over his beard, eyebrows raising when he feels it. It's thicker than usual, the hairs a little longer than he normally keeps it. "Wow, I didn't realize it was getting so thick." He murmurs.

"You're looking a little scraggly, sir." Kieran jokes, tugging gently on Julian's beard.

Julian laughs. "What is with you and pulling my hair today?"

Kieran removes his hand. "That was for a joke, the first time was because you deserved a bit of pain."

"So you admit you did it on purpose!" Julian exclaims triumphantly, pumping his left fist in the air in his victory.

There's a quiet chuckle behind him. "I never outwardly denied it."

Julian rolls his eyes, an act that always feels strange now, but so natural that he can't stop himself from doing it. "Whatever." He mutters. "I'm right." Kieran laughs louder and it warms Julian right up and he forgets to be "mad". Kieran slathers shaving cream onto Julian jaw, rubbing it in just slightly at the edges, and pulling his chair back.

"So who were the women you felt the meetings went well with?" Kieran asks again, gently scraping the razor against Julian cheek.

The schiks he can hear, as well as the sensation of the razor soothes Julian to close his eyes again and relax against the chair. Shaving before he was blind was perfunctory, something Julian did because he had to, and he did it quick and efficiently. Then, after the accident, when Julian realized Kieran had to shave his face for him, he was angry, and felt like an invalid. Yes, Father, he understood he could seriously injure himself with such a sharp object, but he wanted to try. But now, now he liked these moments of total relaxation with Kieran: the sound of the scrapes, the feeling of hair being taken off the the slight rush of cool air against his now bare cheek, the feeling of Kieran's hand against the bolt of his jaw...it's all soothing, now.

But now, Julian's mind wanders to the meetings, being able to clearly remember only a few in the mass thirty-four he had. Who did he have the best meetings with, or, at least, the ones he felt went the best? "I mean, I think simply because I knew them before helped, but both Evie and Inés' meetings went really well."

Kieran makes an acknowledging noise. "Makes sense, especially with Miss Morse, since you two have known each other since you were twelve or so."

Julian smiles immediately when he thinks of Evie. "Yeah, I didn't think I was going to be so happy when I realized it was her, but I am."

"Why do you think that is?" Kieran asks curiously.

Julian can't help the pleased feeling he has in his chest at Kieran's tone. It was no secret that all the staff loved Evie for her kindness toward them, something Julian tried to emulate after her. Not that he was unkind to his staff before Evie, but after watching her interact with his staff the first few times she visited, and seeing how his staff responded, Julian tried to treat them the same way, taking after her.

"I mean, I know a lot of it is relief, for sure," Julian starts, thinking about the rush he got when he realized it was Evangeline Morse in his study with him yesterday, "but it's also happiness. I won't lie and say Evie and I were best friends or anything before this, but we were friendly, and I wanted to know her better." Julian can't help the regret that creeps into his voice when he thinks about all the times he could have gotten to know Evie better, but simply didn't.

Kieran drags the razor across Julian cheek again, snickering a bit. Julian sits up a bit straighter at that snicker: don't let Kieran's straight-laced appearance and polite demeanor fool you. When he snickers like that, it can only mean Kieran is about to say something snarky. "You had plenty of opportunity to get to know her, sir, but you let Mr. Morse intimidate you away from her."

Julian groans. "No one's dad should be that ripped, Kieran!"

It was an argument they had a lot, especially when Evie was alone and Julian wanted to talk to her. Kieran would encourage him, but the image of a 5'10", broad-shouldered, trimmed-stomach having Devon Morse would pop into Julian's head, and would scare him before he even tried. Mr. Morse was never anything but kind and good-natured to Julian, and was one of King Edward's closest friends, but he was fiercely protective of his only daughter, and Julian never wanted to find out what Devon Morse's bad side looked like.

Kieran laughs loudly, taking his razor away from Julian's face (thank God) during his outburst. "You've still never proven that, Prince Julian."

"He's huge! Even my Father, who works out daily, still has a gut to him!" Julian protests. "He's in better shape than you, me, and Connie combined."

"Prince Constantine is not in very good shape." Kieran points out with a snort, once he has a hold of himself again.

"How do you know?" Julian asks curiously.

Kieran coughs a little awkwardly, bringing the razor back to Julian's cheek. "I can hear him fighting for breath every time he climbs a flight of steps."

Julian blinks. "Really? I hav-"

"Anyway, you thought your meeting with Miss Agirre went well, too?" Kieran asks, cutting Julian off. At the mention of Inés, Julian's thoughts immediately shift to her, happily so, and he smiles, thinking of their "game".

"Yeah, Inés was always someone I looked forward to talking to when she would be at the events held here. She was always kind of elusive, though, you know?" Julian pauses thoughtfully, thinking of the times when he would be waiting on the sidelines for his chance to talk to Inés.

She was a whirlwind of tight fabric and perfectly styled hair, twirling around the room from one group to another, stopping long enough to make an impression, before she'd flit somewhere else. It was impossible not to have eyes on her and watch as she was able to make even the saltiest of people smile and open up to her. Julian...Julian's really going to miss seeing the subtle ways she would get others to be comfortable around her: her teasing grins, the slow way Inés would blink her light brown eyes, and the gentle way she'd place her hands on someone's shoulders, or grab someone's hands in her excitement.

It's funny, Julian muses, as Kieran continues to shave his face, how different she and Evie are, and how he'll miss seeing both of them just the same. Evie was approached by the crowds at events and rarely approached others, while Inés invited herself into any group she could find. Evie was quiet, but ethereal in a way, able to catch people's eyes without making a big spectacle, while Inés was front-page news every day after a big event from whatever she had done the night before. Evie was sweet smiles, doe eyes, and kisses on the cheeks, and Inés was a twinkle in the eye, a teasing grin, and squeezing hugs. Julian couldn't begin to choose one over the other of what he'd miss watching more – they were both so interesting to watch, and there was an ache in Julian's chest when he realized he'd never get to see another soft smile from Evie or a devilish wink from Inés.

When Julian comes out of his thoughts, Kieran is gently wiping a cloth against his cheek, waiting from Julian to become aware of his surroundings again. Kieran takes the cloth away and places somewhere beside Julian, he's not sure where, and simply stands next to Julian, waiting for him to speak. "I fucking hate being blind." He spits out bitterly.

"Very eloquent, sir." Kieran agrees with a smile in his voice. If there was one thing Julian loves about Kieran (and there was a lot), it was that Kieran never pitied him for being blind or tried to convince Julian it was a blessing in disguise. Nor did he try and get Julian to be positive about it. He let Julian be as bitter as he wanted, in a way that Lou couldn't, and Connie wouldn't let him be.

Julian lets out a deep sigh, trying to expel his negative energy with it, and scrubs a hand over his jaw, feeling a neat swipe of stubble against, much neater than before and he smiles. "Thanks Kieran, I bet I look great."

"You look wonderful, if I may say so myself." Kieran says proudly, and Julian can imagine his valet puffing out his chest. "Now if you'd stand, I'm going to slip on your tie."

Julian thinks about the day before, where Kieran almost choked him while doing up his tie, and grabs his throat a bit fearfully. "Try not to choke me this time, okay?" He tries to make it sound joking, but there's real fear in his voice. Not many expect it, but Kieran is strong in a way most people wouldn't expect just from looking at the tall, very thin valet. Julian stands up and faces Kieran, taking a step toward him.

"I won't. You accidentally choke a prince one time and suddenly you're terrifying." Kieran mutters with a put-upon sigh.

Julian grins. "Honestly, I'm surprised it was me and not Connie."

Kieran makes an agreeing noise. "Prince Constantine is certainly more obnoxious than you," Kieran tugs on Julian's tie a little tighter, as a joke, Julian's sure (hopes), "but you have your moments." There's silence again, as the humor in the room dies down, before Kieran steps back, satisfied with his work. "There, you're finished."

Julian stands straighter at this, running his hands down the front of his suit. "Shit, are we going now? I – I'm not sure if I'm ready yet." He shakes his head, and looks over to Kieran, his eyes wide and pleading. "Could I have another five minutes, Kieran, please?"

There's a pause. "Oh, would you look at that!" Kieran gasps, awfully fake, Julian might add, "My outfit needs...uh, steaming...and it's going to take about five minutes or so..."

Julian laughs at the obvious excuse the valet didn't need to make, but he can feel relief filling his chest. "Thanks, Kieran. I only need five minutes, I'm just not..."

"You don't have to explain to me, sir." Kieran say gently. "I get it. Why don't you tell me about another meeting that went well in the meantime?"

Julian snorts. "Trying to get some hot gossip out of me, Kieran?"

"Prince Julian, please. You sound too much like Prince Constantine when you say words like that." He sighs, his voice pinched.

"Okay, okay." Julian grins, thinking about his answer, but when he really thinks about it, it's pretty obvious who else. "I guess I would say Avarosa's meeting went really good, too. There was something really natural about the way we talked." He pauses, feeling warm in his chest, thinking about their meeting. "She's really interesting."

"A voice actress that's easy to talk to. Not too hard to see." Kieran says thoughtfully.

Julian imagines that must be true in every walk in life for Avarosa, just from the way she immediately dived into a conversation with Julian, and one that flowed so effortlessly. He can imagine her being able to strike up a conversation with anyone about anything and people would still find it amazingly interesting and engaging. There was something addictive about her voice – the way it effortlessly swooped from emotion to emotion and was so clear in its tone...Julian could probably listen to it for hours. And hell, he has! Along with being Elsie (Elsie!), she was countless other voices in the most innocuous of TV shows, to bit parts in big animated movies.

"I really liked talking to her." Julian says again with a smile. And her clear voice makes him think of Fleur de la Fontaine's voice, that is also clear, but concise and to-the-point, so different from Ava's expressiveness. Not that Fleur's voice wasn't expressive, it was just more subtle in the way her emotions ranged and how it translated to her voice. Besides, her accent took up more of Julian's attention than the tone of her voice. "And Fleur, too."

"Ah, Miss de la Fontaine." Kieran hums, sounding amused. "I must admit, I was very intrigued about her when I read her form."

Julian coughs awkwardly. "I know what you're talking about, and while I admire her for studying...that, I wasn't thinking about that." Julian says, feeling his face heat up.

There was just an easy way that Fleur spoke, a way that made Julian feel she was mostly work and little play, but still managed to be kind while talking to him. Fleur was informative, but engaging despite not being as bouncy as Ava was. Fleur definitely seems as though she could bounce from subject to subject, just like Ava, or even Inés, but there was a rhythm to it, one that Julian found himself really liking when he was talking to her. Maybe she was just really well-versed in public speaking, who knows?

"Very different women so far." Kieran notes, curiosity clear in his voice.

"They're all so different from each other!" Julian exclaims. "And of course, there are so many more! Lulu and Ophelia and Saskia, and -"

Kieran chuckles quietly, and gently places a hand on Julian's shoulder. "I know, Prince Julian, they're all amazing in completely different ways from each other. You don't have to explain it to me."

Julian shakes his head. "But...how am I supposed to eliminate any of them? My first two eliminations were pretty much out-of-my-control!"

"You eliminated Clair on your own." Kieran points out.

"Only because I was afraid of how she'd treat the other women." Julian admits quietly, thinking back to the casual cruelty of Clair. "I can't imagine how she would have treated Zeniba if I had kept her. What she would have said about her when Zeniba's back was turned and she couldn't read her lips? Or what about Saskia, being a lower caste woman? I'm sure Clair had opinions about that. I really had no choice with her."

"Would you have kept her if you were sure she wouldn't have bothered the other women?" Kieran asks quietly.

Honestly? Julian sighs."I uh...I don't know, Kieran."

"Prince Julian." Kieran says gently, the frown clear in his voice.

"I know, I know, but I don't know how to eliminate any of them! They're all here for a reason, Kieran! It would be pretty naive of me to assume they're all here for me, and probably wrong, too. They all have hopes and aspirations coming here, and I get to just, tear that away from them because I won't have feelings for them!" Julian throws his arms up, the frustration in his chest creeping its way into his throat, making his voice come out strangled.

Both of Kieran's hands find their way on Julian's forearms, holding tightly onto them. "These women know what they signed themselves up for, Prince Julian. You can't have thirty-five wives, and they know this."

"Is there a law saying I can't?" Julian mumbles, scuffing his left foot against the floor.

He can imagine Kieran rolling his blue eyes. "No, but I have a feeling you wouldn't be able to do that."

"You don't know what I'm truly capable of." Julian jokes, lowering his voice.

"Yes, says the man who once cried at the tailor's because he couldn't wear every tie shown to him at once."

Julian huffs at that. "I was thirteen!" He protests.

"That's still kind of embarrassing, sir."

Julian rolls his eyes. "Alright, whatever. So I can't have a harem. Maybe I could just keep them in posts around the palace?"

Kieran squeezes his shoulder gently. "They have lives to get back to, Prince Julian. Jobs, schools, families...you can't keep them here forever, just one."

"I know, I'm going to, right?" Julian asks, hating the way his voice gets quieter, a little wobbly at the end. Kieran steps closer to him and Julian can feel his breath against his newly shaven cheek.

"You will." Kieran affirms. "And she will be everything you have always wanted in a wife and a friend."

Julian smiles at that, and it's a little watery, if he's being honest, but he knows Kieran will never judge him for it. "How can you know that for sure, Kieran?"

Kieran pauses thoughtfully, thinking it over carefully. "These women, reading over their forms, it was amazing, to see them all. They all come from unique walks of life and have differing opinions and lifestyles and looks from each other. There's not one woman on there that I would say it's expendable. Everyone is amazing, but not everyone is for you, and that's for you to find out and discover." Kieran squeezes Julian's arms again, giving him a little shake for good measure. "Isn't that exciting?"

"What? Knowing I'll have to eliminate all these amazing women you just described?" Julian asks. Yeah, he's feeling pretty damn sorry for himself. Sue him.

"No, sir." Kieran says, endlessly patient. "It's going to be so exciting getting to know all of these young women! You're going to learn so many different things you never thought of before. Isn't that amazing?"

Julian smiles softly. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"It is." Kieran insists, his voice rising in his excitement. "And they're going to learn about you, and see a side to you so few people are actually privy, too."

"You're privy to it, and you're not falling in love with me any time soon." Julian points out, a teasing smirk on his face. Kieran promptly whacks Julian's arm. "Ow!"

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Prince Julian, I've seen too many unattractive sides of you to ever see you beyond my -"

"Best friend." Julian finishes seriously.

There's a fond chuckle from Kieran. "Yes, my very best friend." He agrees. "And I know that one of these women is going to fall in love with you. She's going to love your humor, and your kindness, and your inability to pick out ties."

Julian groans. "Please let me live that down, Kieran." He begs.

"Never." Kieran's tone is way, way too happy at that, but it serves to lighten the mood in the room, and knock a piece of that anxiety out of Julian's chest. How is it yesterday after the meetings Julian was feeling so good and optimistic, but that anxiety has found its way back inside of him again? Will be ever truly be rid of it? But before he can fall down that rabbit hole of self-pity again, he mentally shakes himself out of it.

"Thank you, Kieran." Julian says honestly, feeling a little choked up. "I-I'm gonna be okay. I don't have to pick a wife tonight."

"Right. You don't even have to eliminate anyone, either, not if you don't want or see a need to." Kieran reminds him, finally removing his hands from Julian's forearms. "You're going to go to the Welcoming Ball, make a small speech, and dance with your Selected."

Julian sighs, shifting on his feet. "But, historically, hasn't there been a massive elimination after the first meetings? The public might expect me to eliminate some women tonight."

"Prince Julian, this is your Selection and no one else's. If you eliminate no women, that's fine, and if you eliminate five, that's also fine. So long as it's your decision."

Julian nods his agreement, even though he doesn't quite agree with it – he's expected to eliminate someone, so he's going to have to, right? If the public doesn't urge him to, the Queen certainly will; knowing her, she wants the Selection to be as quick and efficient as possible without any hiccups in it. Even before the accident, when the Queen actually liked Julian, she wasn't super enthused about the Selection. It was something she saw that needed to be done, but didn't really want to happen.

It's funny, Julian thinks, how romantic his father is, thinking of true love and soulmates and so happy for Julian to have his own Selection, even though he thinks Julian can't handle it, and then there's the Queen. Realistic and cold, love doesn't seem to do much for her; it doesn't excite her in the way it does her husband. Honestly, how were they married for so long? Was Julian and his future wife going to be so different from each other, and were they going to complement each other, become the other's "better half", or are they going to be an odd couple like his parents are? Sure, to the public, his parents are a united front, but anyone who has seen them behind closed doors knows how much of an odd couple they actually are.

And what about Lourdes and Connie, who will they end up with? Will they find someone who is perfect for them, or will they have someone so opposite to them, everyone will think they've failed? Lou is straight-laced and organized, soft and purposeful, and careful, so, so careful – would she go for someone who will match her beat for beat or would she go for someone who would muck up her entire schedule and simply go? And Connie...God, Julian can't even imagine there's someone on this planet patient enough to deal with Connie's...isms. Sure, he's engaged to Princess Elodie, but the Princess, she has to have her limits, right? Will she really be able to handle Connie being himself all day, every day? And Kieran, he's in love with someon-

"Prince Julian," Kieran interrupts gently, "you're getting lost in thought again."

Julian sheepishly grins, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. "Sorry Kieran...I've got a lot on my mind."

"And you should, darling-brother!" Connie's voice rings out from the other side of the room. Julian lets out an amused huff, especially the Kieran grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. Connie takes a few steps in, before he gasps over-dramatically, and shuffles back, shoes scuffing against the floor. "Oh my God, who is this delicious looking young man in my presence?"

Julian laughs, shaking his head. "Kieran did an awesome job on me, but I don't look that good, Connie, calm down."

Connie walks closer, slinging an arm over Julian's shoulders, and knocking their heads together slightly. "Oh, I agree, baby brother. You look fine, but I was talking about my gorgeous Kieran-darling!"

Julian can practically feel the steam coming out of Kieran's ears and the heat of his glare aimed at Connie, and, subsequently, Julian as well. "Prince Constantine, please save comments like that for your fiancee, not for me." Kieran finally grumbles out, though there's something a little off about his voice, a little shy.

"But she's not here, love, and you are the most fabulously dressed person here!" Connie explains, voice sounding like he's pouting. "Not many people can pull off pink floral!"

"Prince Julian is pulling it off quite nicely." Kieran counters, voice flat. "As are you, to a degree."

Connie gasps again, and it's a wonder he doesn't faint from how often he does it. "Juli!" He cries out loudly, causing Julian to wince, "Did you hear that? I look good, to a degree!" He lets out an inhuman squeal, one that even causes Kieran to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

Julian runs a hand over his suit. "I didn't know that my suit was pink." He says thoughtfully.

"Is that a problem, sir?" Kieran asks, doubt creeping into his voice.

Julian immediately steps forward, accidentally moving Connie's arm off of him in the process, as he tries to hurry and reassure Kieran. "No, Kieran, not at all! You know I don't care what colors I wear...I really like pink." Julian admits with a blush. "But how are the women going to react, you know? I'm not...the most manly guy out there already, and now I'm wearing pink...I might disappoint them."

"Juli, if they wanted a body builder, they would have signed up for my Selection!" Connie reassures(?).

"You shouldn't change your style just for the Selection," Kieran starts, voice soft and actually reassuring, "these women are going to love you for you and if they can't accept something as simple as you liking to wear what others call "girly" colors, then that's their decision."

"And they might eliminate themselves," Connie points out, "just by you being yourself."

Julian snorts. "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not."

Kieran makes a considering hum, probably testing out the weight of his words before he says them. "It's not a bad thing, to have the women leave for things they find "wrong" with you, sir. In any case, you won't have to worry about having a woman who can't handle you wearing pink being in your elite."

"And honestly, when have colors and clothing ever been indicative of someone's sexuality?" Connie grumbles, surprisingly serious. "Wearing pink doesn't make you gay, sucking dick does."

Kieran makes a shocked sound. "Prince Constantine!" He hisses, while Julian laughs loudly.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, darling!"

"Oh, are you volunteering?" Kieran snaps, sounding embarrassed.

"At last! I thought you'd never ask!" Connie exclaims, ending it with a little sob.

Julian playfully rolls his eyes, shaking his head a bit at their banter. Honestly, it was non-stop between the two of them. If they were anyone else in the universe besides Kieran Welker and Constantine Schreave, Julian would probably suspect them of having feelings for each other, but they were themselves, and that was a ridiculous thought. Hell, Kieran would probably gut-punch Julian if he ever brought that thought up!

"Sir," Kieran breaks in, obviously trying to regain control of the situation, "are you ready to head down to the ball, now?"

Julian considers the question, rocking back on his feet, letting the room settle into silence, even Connie being quiet long enough for Julian to gather his thoughts. Once Julian steps out of his room, the ball will really start and thus will kick start the Selection and everything that goes along with it: the expectations, the fights, the realities, and the heartbreaks, too. Everyone is expecting so much out of him, starting with one little dance, a dance that he still wasn't sure who he would first share with. Clyde, his grandfather, danced with his grandmother first, and it took his father only three dances to dance with his mother, and know immediately that she was his queen. Will this ball go the same way?

He had only touched one of his Selected so far, and it was an accident on Saskia's part, since she was just handing him a bandanna. The touch itself was brief and unknown, foreign but not unwanted or disgusting, just unexpected. Still, touching Saskia's hands didn't bring a revelation upon Julian like he was often told would happen to him. It was a nice touch, but it didn't let Julian know one thing or another, whether or not Saskia was his queen or decidedly wasn't. She was still Saskia, and he was still Julian, and he wonders if the same thing will happen once he starts dancing with the women at the ball. And, of course, who should he even choose to start dancing with?

Julian breaks himself out of his thoughts with a long, frustrated groan, and Connie takes that as a cue to laugh and grab Julian's arm. "Alright, Julip, we're going to start walking to the ball, and you can continue to have your little crisis if you'd like, but we have to get there at some point." Connie says, still chuckling.

"Julip?" Kieran asks, sounding unimpressed.

Connie starts walking them forward, and Julian is listening, but their voices are just a bit fuzzy. "Like tulip, dear. I can't always rely on the same nicknames I use every day, that would become drab so quickly. Right, sweetling?"

"No."

Julian's door swings open, bringing a burst of cool air as they step out into the hallway, Julian's arm now looped in Connie's. "Oh, boo." Connie jumps suddenly, jostling Julian in the process. "Boo!"

"What?" Kieran asks, sounding more than a little irritated.

"Boo! I could call you boo, Boo! What do you think?"

"No."

Connie hums as they turn a corner, the thumping of the music getting louder, and the mix of dread and excitement steadily building in Julian getting bigger and bigger. "Angel?" There's a pause, and Connie chuckles. "Oooo, angel perhaps?"

"No." Kieran repeats, voice sounding strangled.

Connie laughs. "What do you think, Julian?"

Julian tries for a smile, but he's sure it comes out more like a grimace, especially paired with the rapid rise-and-fall of his chest. He tries to open his mouth, but nothing comes out, and he shakes his head rapidly, planting his feet in the floor. Connie, to his credit, immediately stops moving when Julian does, and slips his arm free from Julian's to let him have some space to himself.

"Juli, can you tell us what's going on?" Connie asks gently, sounding muddled. Julian grips his forearms, fingers digging into the gnarled skin underneath the silky material, trying to breathe, his head shaking almost as much as his hands. There's more talking, murmuring, more like, since it's as if there's a shield over Julian's ears and all talk is being muffled.

The voices are gentle, but urgent, and Julian tries to focus on them, but all he can think about is dancing and dresses and swirling and falling and failing and the expectations and all the stares he won't see, and the judgments, and the fights, and the hopes being dashed, and the dreams, and the aspirations, and all of the people he's going to disappoint. So many people, everyone in that ballroom right now, dancing and laughing, he's going to let down in one way or another, he knows it. The Queen will have been right, he wasn't worth a second thought anymore, and his Father would be right to have pitied him.

All of those women, who traveled so far, left their homes, their jobs, their lives for him, they'll realize what they had done, the mistake they just made, just like Clair did. Julian will choose the wrong woman to dance with first and he'll insult the women and he'll let the public down, and he'll mess everything up like he always does. The accident was his fault, the deaths, the distance between his parents that was becoming more and more apparent every day, that's his fault, too. And the fall of this Selection, that will be Julian's fault, too, when people realize that the Selected deserve so much more than Julian and the public will feel sorry for them, that they have to compete for a broken, depressed, crippled Pr-

There's a pressure against Julian's forehead, hard and sudden, and two hands on his cheeks, and an awful noise, too. It's a garbled, wet noise – broken and sticky, gasping and heaving, deep and throaty and it won't stop. The pressure against his forehead persists, as the fingers rub slowly back-and-forth on his cheeks, trying to calm Julian down. Hey, at least he was just shaved earlier, he thinks, the first coherent thought he's had in what's felt like hours. He opens his eyes as his awareness starts to kick in, becoming aware of a hand on his back, rubbing up and down, and gentle humming of Song From Half Mountain a distinctively Lou song. And, finally, Julian's aware of the pressure in his chest and the stuttering coming from it, accompanying that sound, that terrible, ugly sound that Julian is making.

Oh.

"K-Kier..." Julian gasps out, his voice a wreck. It hurts to speak, but it hurts more to stay in those thoughts that he can't quite dispel.

"I'm here, sir," Kieran says, voice calm, but worried. Julian's hands grasp outward, toward Lou's humming, trying to find her, and she meets him in the middle, wrapping a gentle hand around his, intertwining their fingers, but still humming. He tries to focus on her melody and the way Connie's hand travels up and down his back in a grand, sweeping motion. He tries to focus on Kieran's fingers on his cheeks, rubbing, and the way he can smell the mintiness of Kieran's breath.

"This – this would s-suck if you ha-ad bad breath-h, Kieran." Julian comments shakily, letting out another gasp as he tries to regain his breath.

Kieran lets out a chuckle, but it seems reluctant. "Thank you, sir, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Oh, so I need to have a panic attack in order to get Kieran's face near mine? Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?" Connie asks from behind Julian, his theatrical voice breaking through the tension.

"Jesus, Connie, shut up." Lou mutters, though she sounds fond, just tired.

Connie does just that, but his hand continues to rub Julian's back, adding a much needed comfort. Julian's always been a tactile person – someone that learns better through touch and doing it himself, and feels better when others comfort him through touch. But ever since Julian became blind, the touches that he's grown so fond of, the ones he needs, they've pretty much disappeared from everyone around him, purposefully and accidentally. The Queen...he knows she barely looks at him now, even if he can't witness it himself, so of course she doesn't touch him. But his father, the pats on the shoulders he used to get, the slugs in the shoulders, those awkward, I'm-not-sure-what-I'm-doing touches his father used to give him, those have all but vanished in the wake of the accident.

His brother, of course, still hangs over him like normal, Julian's not sure Connie could stop even if he tried his hardest. Like Julian, he communicated through touch, even if his was draping over people and pinching their cheeks for affect, rather than clinging onto them for support like Julian did. Even Lou's comforting, maternal touches have lessened since the accident, much to Julian's dismay. He knows his cousin is probably doing it because she doesn't want to startle him, but he wishes she wouldn't. It makes him feel diseased, that people are so hesitant to touch him nowadays, even innocent things like a pat on the back or a handshake has pretty much become nonexistent.

When Julian finally feels steady enough to stand on his own, he nods against Kieran's steady hands, and feels his valet remove them slowly, so as not to jar Julian too much with a sudden movement. The warmth his hands brought to Julian's face disappears, too, but the warmth in his chest stays, knowing he's surrounded by three of the people in his life he loves the most.

"Thank you," He croaks out, wincing when he hears his voice again, "I'm sorry for freaking out...I thought I was okay, but I guess not..." He tries to make it come out as a joke, but his tone falls flat of it by a lot.

"Julian, are you okay?" Lou asks, coming closer to him. Julian doesn't hesitate in turning from Kieran to her, and burying his face into her shoulder, and letting her hand rub his neck comfortingly. Kieran makes a tut, and Julian knows it's about his hair being mussed up, but he couldn't care less about his hair right now.

Julian shrugs his shoulders. "I just got into my head. Again. Like I always do."

"Thinking about what?" Lou's voice is quiet and so, so soft, just waiting for Julian to explain himself, but not expectant or impatient. He wants to cry.

"Dancing with the Selected, choosing the wrong girl, someone messing up the Selection..." Julian's voice gets weaker with each word until he realizes how silly his panic attack actually sounds. Did he seriously get into such a tizzy over dancing? Frankly, it was pathetic of him, but Lou only holds him closer. "God, that's so stupid." He bitterly spits out.

"Prince Julian, something that causes you to react like that isn't stupid." Kieran points out, voice firm. "And it never will be."

Julian scoffs. "But to freak out over dancing is -"

"Perfectly normal, Juli, really." Connie sighs. "We've had this conversation a thousand times, and I'll gladly have it with you as many times as you want, but you've got to stop talking down about yourself."

Julian pulls away from Lou with a glare, and turns around to where Connie's voice is to pin him with that glare. "Sure, Connie, I'll just go ahead and tell myself to stop that right away. That should be pretty fucking easy to do." Julian snaps. "Why don't I tell my brain to stop panicking while I'm at it, and after I do that, I'll tell my eyes to stop being blind, too?"

"That's not what I meant, Julian."

"Then what did you mean? I can't just tell myself to stop thinking, Connie. They never stop, these stupid thoughts and worries as much as I want them to, and it's not fair. I just want to wake up without being so nervous about everything around me!" Julian's voice raises to just below a shout, but it sounds so much louder when the rest of the room is so quiet and solemn.

"Prince Julian," Kieran tries to cut in, but Julian shakes his head.

"I'm just so tired. I hate being treated with kiddie gloves, but I can't function for one day without having a panic attack!" Julian laughs a little hysterically. "And now there's a whole ballroom full of gorgeous women a-and I'm an absolute mess. Again."

Lou places a gentle hand on Julian's shoulder behind him and strokes a thumb over it. "Why don't you take ten to clean yourself up – physically and mentally, and then we'll figure out what you want to do."

"What do you mean? I have to go meet the women at the ball." Julian grouses, shrugging off her hand. He feels like a jerk, but honestly, he can't find it within himself to care much. Why should he? It's a vicious cycle for Julian – he freaks out, gets comforted, feels better, actually started to feel confident (what a concept!), and then he overthinks, crashes, and the cycle starts all over again.

"You always have a choice, Julian." Lou reminds him.

"Pretty shitty choices." Julian mumbles.

There's a loud groan, guttural and drawn-out coming from Connie, and Julian can picture his brother dramatically rolling his eyes at Julian's attitude. "When you're ready to talk about your problems, I will be here for you, I promise." Connie crosses over to Julian and places his hands on the sides of Julian's neck gently. "Because I love you and you're my favorite little brother."

Julian rolls his eyes, but can't deny that his chest feels warm. "I'm your only little brother, Connie."

"And thank God for that, Juli-Pop, because you're being such a little shit right now!" Connie says cheerily, with a smile Julian can only imagine is wide and teasing.

"Connie!" Lou chastises with a little gasp.

Connie chuckles a bit, gently shaking Julian's neck. "It's true and I'm going to say it, so listen up, Julian: No one is blaming you for your current state of mind, you've been through some shit, no one's denying that, and no one is asking you to "get over it", okay?" There's a pause, for effect, Julian knows, before Connie continues, "But this, 'woe is me, I'm a mess' broody shit has got to stop. You have three people here who want to help you, not to mention Nonnie and Ray."

"Francesa, too," Lou pipes up, "in her own way, she does care about you."

"And there's a whole ballroom full of women who want to have a relationship with you in some fashion: romantic, platonic, sexual-"

"Connie!"

"-it doesn't matter. What matter is, they're here for you. So get yourself together, take some deep breaths, and go dance with them. Freak out later if you have to."

Julian shifts on his feet. "But what if I completely mess up the dances with them?" He asks, voice small and horribly vulnerable.

Connie lets out a quiet huff of air, not impatient, however, and knocks their foreheads together, like he and Kieran did not too long ago. "Then you mess it up together. Do you think most of those women are going to know how to dance "properly"? Hell no! They're going to be as lost as you are, so take comfort in that and just enjoy it, Jules. Romance isn't perfect. Falling in love with someone..." Connie's voice trails off, quiet and reflective and it's odd to hear his brother's voice sound like that. Julian's not sure if he likes it or not, but he's curious, too.

"Connie?"

Connie coughs awkwardly and straights himself up, taking a small step back from Julian. "Look, falling in love with someone is confusing, Julian, and it's messy, it just...is. You never know how to act around them, you always feel awkward, am I saying the right thing, is my laugh weird, am I attractive to them, it all just gets inside your head, all the time, and it's scary."

Julian shakes his head. "If this is supposed to make me feel better, Con, it's not. It's freaking me out again."

Connie sighs. "I know, Juli, and it's going to. Love is uncertain and it changes, constantly, and so do your feelings. And sometimes you think, is it worth all the effort I'm putting into this? Feeling like an idiot, saying and doing things I normally wouldn't, trying to impress just one person...but then," Connie pauses, and shifts a little, turning slightly away from Julian, before turning back to him. "Then you look at that person, and you realize, holy fuck, this is the person I'm in love with! They're worth every weird moment that comes with falling in love! The different colognes you'll try and that weird period of time when you try standing in a manlier way, and all those moments where you lay in bed and cringe at yourself."

Julian can't help the way his eyes widen at Connie's impassioned speech, and he's assuming Kieran and Lou are in just much shock as him. He honestly had no idea Connie felt this way about Princess Elodie...and just in general for always doubting his brother and how serious he could actually be. "Connie..."

"Look, if you're gonna take anything away from this Jules, just take this, okay?" Julian nods, and Connie takes a deep breath to collect himself. "Love is scary and it always feels like nothing is going right and you're going everything wrong, but that's just a part of it. And everything you're feeling, those women in there are feeling, too. You're not alone, okay?"

Julian doesn't know what to say, or if there's anything to say at all. How is it you can know someone for twenty years, your entire life, and still manage to be surprised by them? How could he have so grossly misjudged his older brother like this? Sure, Connie was usually theatrical and crass, but Julian honestly never thought his brother to be capable of such a passionate love for someone else, let alone an arranged marriage like he and Princess Elodie, but he was wrong. So, so wrong. So Julian simply opens up his arms and hugs his brother tightly, chest heaving, and buries his face into the crook of Connie's neck. Connie hugs him back immediately.

"Okay." Julian says softly.

They hug for just a moment longer, before Connie pulls back and obnoxiously cracks every bone in his body. "Ah! Alright! That's enough of being serious for me!" He declares.

"Connie," Lou starts, voice sounding astonished, "that was..."

"Amazing? Spectacular? Inspirational?" Connie pauses. "Sexy?" He asks with a leering tone, most likely aimed toward Kieran.

"Wonderful." Kieran says simply, instead of arguing with Connie, like Julian expected him to. Connie must have expected that, too, because he's completely speechless for a few moments afterward.

Connie clears his throat. "Well of course it was, Angel! I'm nothing if not wonderful!" He tries to carry that same light tone he always wears, but it sounds a bit strangled.

Julian lets out a quiet chuckle, the first in what seems like forever, just at the ridiculousness of Connie being himself, and it slowly dissolves into a loud, barking laugh, maybe a little desperate, but he couldn't care less. Lou joins in next, hers also sounding relieved, but it helps break the tension, and soon Connie and even Kieran join in, too. Julian can't imagine what they all must look like right now – four people, one flushed and mussed up, the other impeccably dressed and made up, curled into themselves with red faces laughing and laughing and laughing. He wonders, just for a moment, what the Selected women would think if they saw Julian like this, but it's an absent thought, one that flits away as quickly as it came.

After another minute or so, they all finally start to calm down, and Julian feels light and heavy at the same time. His face feels rubbed raw and sticky, and his skin is prickly and itchy, but he also feels a little lighter on his feet, his chest feeling a little more open now than it was before all of this started.

Kieran, unsurprisingly, breaks the silence. "Prince Julian, of course we can retire you to your room for the evening and try again tomorrow, or we can clean you up and have you meet the women in a few minutes. It's entirely up to you." He says gently, no trace of judgment in his voice whatsoever.

Julian shakes his head. "No, I-I should see them tonight – I want to."

Connie claps him hard on the back. "Atta-boy, Juli! You look hot tonight! You wouldn't want to waste all of Kieran's hard work, would you?"

"Never." Julian grins.

"Then Connie and I will go out first and you can come in after us, okay?" Lou walks over to Julian and gives him a kiss on his brow. "Take your time getting ready, there's no rush."

Connie makes a funny noise. "Except that there are children there who should probably hit the hay before three in the morning, so maybe just a bit of a rush, Juli-Andrews."

Julian rolls his eyes at the nickname but nods. "Got it, Connie. I only need a few minutes and then I'll be right behind you." This appeases Connie enough to earn him a wet kiss on his forehead. Julian wrinkles his nose at the sensation, but can't deny the happiness in his chest when his brother does it.

"Would you like a kiss, too, Kieran-darling? You're looking rather lonely over there!" Connie exclaims.

Julian grins, especially when Kieran bites back: "And just when I was starting to think there was more to you, Prince Constantine, you prove me wrong all over again."

Connie says something else, but Julian's not sure what, instead, he focuses on the warmth that's gathering in his chest, knowing he has at least three people who love and support him unconditionally and will always be there for him, especially through scary and difficult times such as his Selection.

"Prince Julian, if you wouldn't mind sitting, I'll go ahead and try to clean you up as best I can." Kieran says, gentling a hand on Julian's shoulder.

Julian blinks, unaware the other two had left already. It occurs to him, now, after everything that has happened, that he has no idea where they are. "Kieran, where are we right now?"

"The throne room, sir. We figured it would be good to hide in here and let you work yourself through your attack rather than try and move you back to your room."

Julian chuckles at the explanation and nods. "Right."

He lets Kieran grab his arm, and lead him toward his father's throne, and sits against the throne, not in it, never in it, and closes his eyes at the feeling of Kieran's hands in his hair. It's funny, how they're back in the same position they were less than thirty minutes ago, but it feels so different now. Julian was earlier filled with nervous energy, prickling all over his skin, ramping up his breathing, and now he's calmer, definitely tired, but less nervous than before.

"Thank you, Kieran." Julian says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between them. "For listening to me, and putting up with my bullshit."

"That was in my job description, sir." Kieran happily replies.

"Dealing with the prince's bullshit?"

"Among other things."

Julian laughs, but sobers up quickly. "I'm serious, Kieran. You don't know how much it means to me to know I have you by my side, backing me up. I feel like I don't do enough for you."

Kieran tugs his hair gently, making Julian laugh. "It's not a competition, Prince Julian, or about who does what for who." Julian nods slightly, trying not to dislodge Kieran's hands and sighs, relaxing into his touch just a bit. Kieran continues to style again, but adds gently, "And, for the record, you do plenty for me, sir."

Julian blinks. "I feel like, if taken out-of-context, that sentence could sound really dirty."

"Keep in mind I still have my hands in your hair, Prince Julian, and I'm not afraid to tug it again." Kieran warns, a touch playful, but mostly serious.

"Ooof. That one, too."

Kieran lets out a long-suffering sigh, but doesn't follow through with his threat. "You're so much like your brother when you say things like that." It's a tired sentence, but it's fond – for Julian or for Connie, Julian's not entirely sure, perhaps fond for both of them?

"I was really surprised by him earlier." Julian says, the shock still clear in his voice. Kieran hums his agreement. "He's never serious like that."

"Prince Constantine is very intelligent, when he chooses to be." Kieran murmurs sagely, turning away from Julian for a moment, evidenced by the retreating footsteps. "I'm going to scrub your face a little bit, Prince Julian, if that's alright."

"Go ahead." Julian permits, leaning his head back with Kieran's guiding hand. Kieran gently rubs with a soft cloth at Julian's face, probably rid it of dried tears and the like. "I guess I didn't realize I was getting on his nerves so badly."

"Hm?"

"Connie's, I mean. He was pretty annoyed with me and my pity-train."

Kieran chuckles. "Does that make Prince Constantine, Princess Lou, and myself your Pity-Committee?" He asks, with a smirk in his voice and, Julian imagines, mirth in his blue eyes.

"God, Kieran, no. I ban you from ever saying that again."

"Noted, sir." Kieran takes the cloth away. "As for Prince Constantine, I'm sure he wasn't annoyed with you, he was simply trying to get you to stop doubting yourself. He could have done it in a better way, at first, sure, but he truly cared."

Julian nods and heaves himself to his feet without the help of Kieran. "But he got there in the end, I guess. I never knew he had such strong feelings for Princess Elodie." Julian says. "They always seemed kind of iffy for each other, but you can't talk about love like that without feeling it...right, Kieran?"

There's a pause, and for a moment, the air feels tense. Kieran clears his throat. "Left, sir."

Julian rolls his eyes at the lame retort, ignoring the tight way Kieran's voice sounds. "Clever." He snorts.

"I think you're ready to go, sir, appearance wise, at least."

Kieran takes a step back from Julian, probably giving his work a look-over, before he, seemingly satisfied, hands Julian one of his walking sticks that's kept by the thrones. After about the twentieth time Julian has left his room with an escort without his walking stick, the King decided to have a walking stick kept in almost every room in case it was needed and it often was. Over a year of being blind and Julian and Kieran both still forgot him needing a walking stick all the time. Julian was beginning to wonder if it would ever feel natural, or even normal, to grab it before he left his room.

Julian grips it and lets the bottom hit the floor with a satisfying thud. "Yeah, I um...I'm ready personally, too. I think. No I am. Maybe."

Kieran chuckles. "You don't have to be one-hundred percent ready, sir." Kieran says as they begin to cross the throne room back to the double doors, leading into the hallway. "I'm sure the women aren't feeling completely confident themselves."

Julian considers this, swiping his walking stick across the floor, almost thoughtfully. "You think so?"

"Sir, most of them have never been outside of their province before, let alone to a palace. Now, all of a sudden, they're thrown into an unknown competition with thirty-four other beautiful women vying for the hand of a prince they barely know. I'd be more shocked if any of them actually felt comfortable." Kieran explains slowly, but patiently.

Is it...is it stupid that Julian had never considered that before? Up until this point, as they're walking down the hallway together, the ball's music getting louder and louder, Julian had really only thought of himself and how scary the Selection was for him. But Kieran's right – these women, they have thrown themselves head-first into an exciting adventure, sure, but a scary and unknown one as well. Their journeys in the Selection will be broadcast nationally, just like Julian's own journey, and some of them didn't even own a television! He can't imagine what it must be like to be in such a grand place when in you're in a lower caste, how women like Lexine and Briseis must feel, or someone like Talullah, who seems to have been born and raised in one place, for her, Sumner, her whole life.

Even for the higher caste women like Vienna, Belia, Gigi, and Violet, this still has to be so strange. The luxury, not so much, the privileges, too, but being thrown from their jobs and studies and livelihoods into a competition has to be just as confusing for them as it is for the lower caste women. As Connie pointed out earlier, most of these women probably didn't know the "proper" way to dance, or to eat at a royal dinner table, or how to conduct themselves in a "Queenly" manner that was expected of them. Not that Julian personally wanted that, but the public did, and the Queen, certainly. Kieran and Julian turn a corner, and the music is thumping even louder now, making the floor vibrate, and Julian can start to make out some very faint voices.

How could he have been so selfish to only think about his struggles and not take into consideration all the women are going through? There's a part of Julian, the dark part of him from earlier that wants to resurface and drag him down into that pit of loathing and make him feel awful for not thinking about the women, but there's another part of him, the lighter part, with a voice that suspiciously sounds like Kieran that's telling Julian to forgive himself and learn now. Okay, so he didn't consider the women's feelings earlier, but now he can – he can really start to think about their thoughts and feelings and maybe they could learn how to navigate through this foreign situation together.

"We're here, sir." Kieran announces, and it takes Julian a moment to truly register the sweeping music from behind the doors in front of them.

Julian can hear the clinking of glasses being toasted, the laughter of the women, squeals of children, a meow (Sebastian is there...?), and Connie's voice talking about absolutely nothing as he stalls for time. There's an ache, a distinctive, empty ache in Julian's chest where he longs so, so badly to see the perfectly made up faces of the women, the gently curled hair and big up dos. He wants to see the slinky dresses, the big, puffy dresses that take up half the dance floor, and everything in between. Julian wants to look at his Selected while he dances with her, wants to share such an intimate moment together, but for now, he's satisfied with just hearing, for now.

They sound excited in there, they sound happy and for a moment, maybe his Selected are getting caught up in the music and the lights and the moment to truly forget about their worries about the future and their fears. They're letting the music settle into their bones and guide them. They're letting their makeup cover their worried wrinkles, and the dresses swallow up their shaking hands and maybe it's time for Julian to do the same. Part of love, and finding that love, is being scared, as Connie had said earlier, and Julian is terrified, wholly so.

But maybe, when Julian steps in front of his Selected, he'll feel her nervous energy too, and want nothing more than to ease her fears and make her feel better. Maybe, when he puts his hand in hers, they'll find just a bit of comfort in each other, and maybe he'll be able to forget why he was so scared in the first place and only focus on her. And maybe that won't happen. Maybe they'll touch hands and freeze up – their conversation will be stilted and they'll wish for the dance to be over immediately. But you know what? Julian wants to find out the outcome, whichever way it'll go. He's tired of anticipating when he could be doing.

"Sir?"

Julian smiles, giving himself a small nod, trying to get a hold of his nerves, but not completely banish them. "I'm ready, Kieran, you can open the doors." Love was all about trying, whether or not you succeed.

And Julian was ready to try.

Lordy. This chapter did not go the way I had planned it, at all. Haha, remember when I said this chapter we would get to the ball and dance with a Selected girl? Ahhh, that's such a fond memory. In all seriousness, I do apologize for not getting to that this chapter, but honestly, I hadn't realized how deep Juli's self-loathing went until I started writing this chapter, and I want this to be as realistic as possible.

As much as I want to hurry the story along and get to the juicy parts, Juli's got some major mental-health hurdles to jump over, and unfortunately, I can't solve them in just a chapter. It's going to be a reoccurring theme we'll see in the story, more so than we have already, and while Julian will never be "cured", because that's simply not a real thing, he'll get better as the story goes on! I hope this makes sense to you!

Also, when Julian was talking about the meetings that stuck out to him the most, that wasn't a list of his favorite girls or who is going to be in his Elite or anything, so please don't think that he likes those girls the best or whatever.

And the song mentioned in this chapter is Song From Half Mountain by the amazing folk artist Dan Fogelberg. I highly recommend giving that amazing song a listen; I promise you won't be disappointed! :D

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite it being a little heavier than the last few. Even though it was pretty heavy, I also think it might be one of the lighter ones, too, because of Connie being Connie haha.

I'm really going to try hard to not make guesses of what the next chapter holds, because, as we've seen time and time again, I never actually know, and I hate that I keep disappointing you all. However, I know that next chapter will have Juli at the ball and his first dance, so help me God!

Anyway, thank you all for the continued love and support, especially as we creep closer and closer to the two-hundred-thousand (what?) mark! I truly love and appreciate every review and message I receive.

Also, as just a fun little thing: I'd love to know who you all think the first dance is going to, if you'd like to share your thoughts! :D And besides that, any other thought you have on the chapter would be greatly appreciated, especially since I know this chapter was a little more serious than the others have been.

I hope you are all having a wonderful day!

Until next time!

~Rose :)