Start a Riot, Chapter 5. PG-13, Wille/Simon, romance/drama, directly post-S1.
On his first day back to school after the Christmas break, Simon is informed that he's been suspended for two weeks because of his involvement in the video making the rounds on the internet. Now it's up to Wille and his few allies to recruit as many out of the entire population of entitled rich kids at Hillerska as they can to go full Greta to try and pressure the school to reverse this decision before it ruins Simon's future.
Note: Inspired, most recently, by Netflix's Moxie and Sex Education, and a bajillion other teen movies and TV shows out there where high schoolers stage a school strike/walkout/protest against their school.
Note 2: TW - August. (See note at the end.) Also mentions of drugs/addiction, but I guess if you've made it this far...
.
.
August's room was too small to fit all of them comfortably for this conversation, so he kicked out the few stragglers that were hanging around in the Forest Ridge common room— mostly people who had just come in from the palace, or who were waiting for the dinner service to start— and took the space for themselves. One of the second years who made his way out was carrying a sign that said "PUNISH THE REAL CULPRIT" in big red block letters. Wilhelm caught August eyeing the sign guardedly as the guy walked out, promptly closing the door behind him and leaving the four of them in relative privacy. Malin, who was standing in the hallway outside, would make sure no one came in to interrupt.
Whatever uneasiness August might feel at the idea of his classmates demanding his head (even if they didn't know that's who they're gunning for) disappeared as soon as he turned back to look at the other three students, his usual bluster coming back full force. "Well, well," he started, speaking directly to Wilhelm. "Whatever it is you want must be really important if you're willing to come to me about it."
Wilhelm glared at him, fists clenching inside the pockets of his coat, which he was keeping on like it was a bulletproof vest. "Believe me, I wouldn't be standing within a kilometer of you if it wasn't strictly necessary," he snapped back, making it clear to his cousin that they were there to deal with a strictly transactional matter, and nothing else.
August's smarmy smile only widened. "And here you thought you didn't need me anymore, huh?" Wilhelm's fists tightened so hard, he swore he was starting to lose feeling in his knuckles.
He could already feel his chest starting to constrict. He held the glare just for a moment longer before shifting his gaze to the door of the common room. "I can't fucking do this—" he muttered, just about to make for the exit when Felice's extended arm stopped him in his tracks, barring his direct line to anywhere else but here.
"Wille, we've already come this far. We might as well just ask," she pleaded with him. "Just... stand back for a bit, okay?" she asked cautiously. Wilhelm could still feel his heart booming inside his ribcage but eventually nodded. Felice kept her arm up for maybe a heartbeat longer, only dropping it when Wilhelm took a step back toward where Sara was standing in front of a mid-height bookcase. The popular girl was watching him warily like she expected him to lunge at August at the slightest provocation. Wilhelm couldn't blame her; even he wasn't sure that he wouldn't.
He felt like a threatened feral cat, both terrified and a second away from lashing out at the same time. They needed to do this fast.
Once Felice seemed somewhat reassured that Wilhelm wasn't going to bolt, or... God knows what else... she turned to August. "Have you heard about the strike we've got planned? Tomorrow at noon?"
August scoffed, dismissive. "Your little PR stunt to demand respect for Little Lenin's right to an expensive private education? Yeah, I heard something about that," he retorted with a sneer. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "You'll forgive me if I can't make it, but I can definitely appreciate the irony, at least."
"You don't have to be there," Sara intervened for the first time since they had come into the common room. It would've seemed an odd reassurance to state for anyone else, but it wasn't surprising that Sara might've missed the sarcasm dripping from August's words. "You just have to ask your stepfather to get his media contacts to pick up one of our social media live streams. We'll do the rest."
August looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Why would I ever do that?"
Wilhelm groaned out loud and pulled his hands out of his pockets just to tug at his hair in frustration. "Fuck! I told you he wasn't going to—"
Felice let out a very similar frustrated noise but otherwise made no other outward gestures. She had way more self-control than Wilhelm did, that's for sure. He was itching to pace even just within the two or so feet of space he had between the bookcase and the back of the couch. "Wow. Really, August?" Felice said. "You don't feel even a little badly about what you did?"
August opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated for a brief moment before shaking his head and trying again. "I wouldn't have been forced to do it if that little social climber had never come to Hillerska in the first place," he spat back venomously.
"Forced?!" The exclamation burst out of Wilhelm's mouth without him even willing it to happen. The absolute nerve! "You've gotta be fucking kidding me—"
"If Simon hadn't come to Hillerska, I wouldn't have, either," Sara intervened quietly before Wilhelm could launch into a full-on rant.
Wilhelm wasn't sure why Sara thought that was an important point to raise, or why it seemed to give August pause, but that's what it looked like from his vantage point. "That's not—" He faltered, once again having to shake his head to readjust his train of thought. "Why does it even matter, anyway? He'll be back in a week and it'll be like nothing happened. You're only doing this to make yourselves look like heroes, and people are only jumping on board to get more followers online. It's not like they actually care about your little boyfriend."
"Fuck you," Wilhelm snarled back at him. "These are people's lives you're toying with here, you can't just—"
August laughed like Wilhelm had said something eminently funny, but the sound was eerie, almost threatening, rather than lighthearted. "You're one to talk about toying with people's lives, Crown Prince." He heavily emphasized those last two words. "Sounds to me like you're still too damn invested in this whole... sordid affair, when you know for a fact it can never go anywhere." He shook his head. "How selfish can you be? Throwing centuries of tradition and stability down the drain just so you can get your jollies with some guy who doesn't even respect the monarchy? It's pathetic."
Wilhelm saw red. Not just because he was being called selfish for wanting to be with the person he loved— he was used by now to being called selfish for wanting things regular people had. August wasn't the first to say that, and he wouldn't be the last. But no, what really got him was August calling his relationship with Simon "sordid" when he'd been lurking outside Wilhelm's room at an ungodly hour in the morning so he could catch his cousin having sex and record it for blackmail. Who the hell did he think he was to judge Wilhelm for loving someone?
August knew nothing about his relationship with Simon or what it was really about. He didn't have a single fucking clue. He thought he knew everything, but he didn't. His feelings for Simon were about so much more than just sex or convenience. But August wouldn't know the first thing about that. Wilhelm might pity him if he wasn't so damn angry.
He was about to go absolutely nuclear on August when Sara said something that abruptly stopped him in his tracks. "If you don't help us with this," she started in a very blunt manner, "I'll tell the police that you've been stealing my medication."
"What?" Wilhelm said, turning to Sara with what he was sure was an absolutely aghast expression on his face, nearly at the same time as Felice exclaimed "He did what?!" It might've looked like a slapstick comedy for anyone looking in from the outside— at least for anyone who didn't know they were talking about stealing drugs.
August noticeably paled. "I-I did no such thing," he said, floundering a little at the beginning of the sentence. So much for his usual bluster. "And you can't prove it."
For the first time since they came into the common room, Wilhelm allowed himself to really look at his cousin. August looked thinner than the last time they'd seen each other, his features just on the edge of gaunt. His hair was disheveled and he had dark circles under his eyes. Now, Wilhelm wasn't simplistic enough to make a direct connection from August's appearance to what Sara had just said about drugs— not after just three weeks— but it was clear that August was struggling with something, and Wilhelm wasn't about to give him the benefit of the doubt that it might be guilt. Between this from Sara and what happened in the last term with Simon, on top of August's money issues, he wouldn't put it past his cousin to really be so far gone as to stoop to stealing ADHD medication from a girl with ADHD to feed an addiction.
Said girl seemed pretty certain about her explosive accusation, though. "That's fine. I'll just tell them the truth: that my medication disappeared from my purse both times we met up over the break. We'll let them decide if that seems like too much of a coincidence."
Felice looked between the two of them, looking baffled. "Why were you two meeting over the break?" Her line of sight rested on her friend, who was staring at August in a determined fashion. "Sara, what is going on?"
"We've been hooking up since the end of the last term," Sara admitted in a mumble, dodging Felice's gaze. Wilhelm had to shake his head to make sure he'd heard her correctly. "Just a couple of times, because I couldn't get to Stockholm too often. I'd tell Mamma I was going to visit you, then take the train and meet up with him somewhere."
Felice let out a groan, clearly disappointed. "Sara, no..."
August rolled his eyes at her response. "Oh, don't you whine like she fucking killed your cat; what Sara does and who she does it with is none of your damn business. And you"— he turned to Sara— "What the hell? I thought we had a good thing going. Didn't we? Why are you doing this?"
"I can't function without my pills," Sara said simply, wrapping her arms around her torso almost protectively. "I'm gonna run out soon, and I can't just ask for more—"
"There are ways to get pills!" August threw back before she could even finish speaking. Wilhelm knew it was all bullshit, of course. He didn't give a lick what August did to himself, but if it was so easy for him to find a dealer, why had he roped Simon into getting him pills last year? Why had he stolen Sara's medication? "As long as it's not urgent, I can put you in contact with someone—"
"I can't afford that!" Sara retorted automatically.
"Neither can he," Wilhelm muttered. He was still having trouble wrapping his head around... everything he'd learned in the last five minutes... but if there was one thing he was clear on, is that August could never be trusted— both on emotional and financial matters.
August glared at him, his jaw clenched tightly, but he said nothing. Instead, he continued speaking to Sara. "Fine," he said, with an obviously forced lack of concern. "Go ahead, tell the cops. It's not going to go anywhere, anyway; the Queen can make it go away."
The boast was so ridiculous that Wilhelm couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter. "Seriously?" he asked. August gave him a dark scowl in return for his mocking. "You think she protected you because, what— because she cares about you? It's not about you, August. It's about the Crown and the royal family's reputation. You're only worth protecting until you make yourself a liability. Keep digging yourself in like this, and it'll be easier for her to pretend she's never met you."
He shook his head. "Believe me, I would know. The only reason she hasn't disowned me yet is that she gave birth to me." Wilhelm frowned as soon as the words left his mouth. It wasn't quite the truth; he knew his mother loved him— in her own way, at least. But those were the kinds of thoughts that popped into his head in his lowest moments, and quite frankly at the moment he very much felt like August deserved to feel that low.
His cousin continued to glare at him. For a second Wilhelm thought he was going to stay quiet again (what could he possibly have to say to that?), but he was wrong. "That may be the case for you because you've been a disappointment your entire life. Me? The Crown needs the support of the noble families. I'm the head of mine, and I'm going to make damn sure I uphold my family's legacy. Make us indispensable, even for you."
"By stealing ADHD meds from neurodivergent teenage girls like a street junkie?" Wilhelm threw back. "Sounds like a plan."
"At least when I slum it, I don't do it with a communist," August snarled back at him, and oh, Wilhelm wanted to strangle him. Just reach out and wring his neck— but Sara was standing between them, so he couldn't. As if noticing the same, August turned his ire on her, then. "You can't fucking do this to me," he told her. "I got you into the Manor House!"
To Wilhelm's left, he heard Felice gasp. He was too stunned himself to even exchange a glance with her, as things were beginning to click in his mind. He had wondered how Sara's housing grant had been approved so fast. Initially he'd figured it was just the school trying to ingratiate themselves with Simon's family after everything that happened— avoid a lawsuit and all that— but after Simon got suspended that hypothesis started to make less and less sense. Now he knew what the real reason was.
Sara took a step back, closer to the bookcase behind her. "And I kept my end of the deal," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact but her face betraying some apprehension. "We're even. This is a completely separate thing."
It took Wilhelm entirely too long for Sara's latest reveal to process in his mind. "What deal?" he demanded urgently, turning fully toward Sara. Earlier when they decided on doing this, he'd been worried when Sara offered to talk to August alone, for fear that he would manipulate her somehow. Clearly, that ship had sailed. "Sara, what did he have you do for him?"
"Sara...?" Felice prompted. She sounded scared.
Sara pursed her lips, hesitant, before finally blurting it out. "I kept his secret," she said. Wilhelm wondered for a second what secret she meant— the drugs? Or had August done something else?— but then she continued. "I saw him when he was uploading the video. During Lucia. I didn't realize what it was until the investigators came to take the library computer." She looked down at her feet, unable to bear their gaze in what Wilhelm assumed was remorse. "He told me he'd get me into the Manor House if I didn't tell anyone."
Felice gasped again. "You knew it was August before I told you?" Sara bit her lip but did not respond in the affirmative or in the negative. Her silence was probably a clear enough answer.
Wilhelm couldn't... comprehend what he was hearing. "That's... Why wouldn't you come to me? Or— why wouldn't you tell your brother?" He ran a hand over his face in disbelief. "He made Simon's life a living hell, Sara, what the fuck—"
"I know!" Sara cut him off, clearly very agitated, her back fully bracing against the bookcase behind her now. Her shoulders scrunched up, almost like she was starting to curl in on herself. "I know. But now he can be useful to Simon, see? If he does this for us, we can at least fix this one thing," she said earnestly. She looked up at August, serious. "So, you get the strike on the news, or I will go to the police and tell them about the drugs."
August sneered at her. "You little—" He made to grab her arm; for what, Wilhelm didn't know, but it looked like a threatening gesture to him. Clearly it did to Sara as well, because, in an attempt to dodge his grasp, she pulled her hand away, and without meaning to, hit the edge of one of the shelves on the bookcase behind her. She let out a hiss of pain and cradled her hand carefully.
Wilhelm was between them in a flash. "Try that again, I dare you," he declared, staring up at his cousin. They were very close, right in each other's faces, and Wilhelm held August's gaze, unwavering. His voice was like ice. "I've been wanting to punch you for a long time, so go on, give me a reason."
August scoffed but took a step back, raising his hands at his sides almost sarcastically, if such a gesture could be sarcastic. "I wasn't going to hurt her," he claimed, but of course he would say that. "And you're not going to fight me, anyway. We all know how that turned out for you last time," he added dismissively, referencing Wilhelm's club fight that had gone viral and landed him at Hillerska last fall.
Wilhelm did not back down. "Try me," he said, his voice low and steady. "'Cause right now I really don't give a fuck."
August didn't say anything for a while, only looking back at Wilhelm with dripping contempt. Then he shook his head and gave in. "Fine. Fine! I'll get your little social justice pow-wow on TV," he conceded. He pointed at Wilhelm. "It does not affect me in the slightest whether this kid comes back to school or not; that's your deal, not mine. But once this is done, I want you to stay the fuck away from me until I'm finally out of here for good." He lowered his hand, shifting his glare to Felice, and then to Sara. "All of you."
"Gladly," Wilhelm retorted. August only had a few more months left at Hillerska, and if Wilhelm never had to see him again after that, it would still be too soon. He knew he wasn't going to get that lucky, but he could hope.
August gave him one last look of disdain for good measure, then turned and stomped his way out of the common room, leaving the door open behind him. Wilhelm's eyes followed him until he disappeared from sight, and only once he did, did the prince let out a heavy breath— a weak attempt at calming his racing heart.
The common room was quiet for... nearly a full minute, actually, since all of them seemed to be struggling to process everything that had just happened, everything that had been said. Wilhelm felt like his brain was being tugged in three different directions, and not one of them was winning so he stood there immobile, his mind running through every word that was said like it had happened to someone else and he had just been watching from the outside. He turned to Felice, who gave him a wide-eyed, appalled expression that Wilhelm thought might reflect his own, and then he looked at Sara, who was still leaning back against the bookcase and cradling her hand against her chest.
Wille had so many things he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to say, but dammit, this was still Simon's sister, and she was hurt. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, groping around the inside pockets of his coat for the handkerchief he always carried in one. "Are you okay?" he asked Sara softly, handing her the piece of cloth when he finally found it, so she could press it against the cut on the back of her hand. There was only a little bit of blood, thankfully, but it was still a sizable cut and an angry red welt on a delicate area.
Sara nodded, accepting the handkerchief gratefully and pressing it against the laceration. "Thanks," she mumbled, not looking at Wilhelm. He wasn't sure if she was thanking him for the handkerchief, or for defending her from August, but it didn't really matter.
"I—" Felice squeaked out. She seemed overwhelmed by everything they had learned— not that Wilhelm could blame her, as he felt the same way— and looked like she was struggling to say anything. Or to say everything, probably. "Sara— I—" She cut herself off again. She swallowed hard. "I'm— I'm going to go get the nurse," she finally managed to say, more to herself than to them, and spun on her heel, hurriedly making for the door.
Sara was obviously distressed by Felice's abrupt exit, and probably still shaken from their confrontation with August, because she leaned her back against the bookcase and let herself slide down to the floor, still pressing Wilhelm's handkerchief to the back of her hand.
Wilhelm was— not angry at her, not just yet, but just... perplexed? He didn't understand what Sara could've possibly been thinking to involve herself with August after she discovered what he'd done to her brother. For a grant to board at Hillerska? Was that it? He sighed. "August, Sara? Really?" He shook his head. "How could you do that to your brother?"
Sara shrugged, not looking at Wilhelm but rather at the back of the couch. She sat against the foot of the bookcase, knees pulled up. "He lied about meeting up with someone who hurt me," she explain in a quiet mumble, "so I thought it was fair if I lied about hooking up with someone who hurt him."
Wilhelm didn't know the full story, but he had a vague idea what Sara said Simon had lied about had something to do with their father. He remembered seeing a man he thought might be their father approach them and Linda during Lucia, but then the video was released and he never got the chance to ask. And Simon had never really talked much about his father, just the basics of him being an addict, his parents having divorced a while back, and generally not keeping in contact with the man. At least until the mess with the drugs last year. Regardless, Wilhelm could read between the lines of Sara's assertion well enough.
"You know that those two things are not—" he started, then stopped himself when he realized he was coming off too harsh. Erik had done some work with autism charities over the summer before Wilhelm's confirmation, and sometimes Wilhelm had tagged along, his mother wanting him to take up more responsibility since he turned sixteen. So he'd had some interaction with autistic kids, and though his knowledge was very limited, he understood that sometimes it was difficult for autistic children to distinguish things like the different levels of gravity and risk between two situations that just happened to be similar at the most basic level. As in, if they were taught that lying was bad, then for them, a little white lie spun to help someone was just as much of a terrible sin as a malicious lie meant to hurt someone. He didn't know if Sara's autism presented this way, but he thought he should be more careful in addressing it.
He took off his coat, dropping it on the back of the couch. Then he sat down beside Sara on the floor, legs only partially stretched out in front of him due to lack of space, the tip of his sneakers touching the back of the couch. "Sara, you know those two situations are very different, right?" he tried again. "What happened with your father was... a long time ago, but what August did is actively affecting Simon's life right now—"
Sara shook her head emphatically. "This is Micke's fault, too," she claimed, sounding very sure of what she said. When Wilhelm turned a confused glance in her direction, she expanded on it. "He left us with a lot of debt. It's the reason we need to get scholarships for university. Simon doesn't want to take out any loans; we have to help Mamma with old back payments. If Micke weren't such a shitty person, Simon getting suspended wouldn't be such a big deal."
Wilhelm's heart grew heavy hearing this. He'd been to Simon's house, seen how his family lived. He knew they weren't wealthy, but they weren't exactly dirt poor either— just a regular middle-class family, doing the best they could on a single income. In Sweden, that was good enough to live comfortably and even afford some fun things, like Simon's (pre-owned) gaming console or the aquarium setup for his fish. But it couldn't have been easy on their finances when they had to transfer to Hillerska because Sara was getting bullied. And now, knowing that they had debts on top of that... All of it only made Wilhelm even more determined for the strike to go well. He'd do anything in his power to make that happen. To help Simon.
"Okay," he said, conceding that Sara's point was valid. "That makes sense. But still... your father is sick, Sara. August is just a spiteful asshole. And even if Simon lied to you about seeing your dad, he didn't do it to hurt you."
"I don't know why he did it," Sara retorted forcefully. "He hasn't said."
Of course, Wilhelm thought. Sara didn't know about the drugs. Wilhelm couldn't tell Sara everything that had led to Simon repeatedly visiting Micke during the last term, mainly because he didn't have all the details, but also because Simon clearly didn't want her to know. But there was one thing he was absolutely sure of: "He didn't mean to hurt you," he repeated. "So you shouldn't be trying to hurt him."
"You hurt him, too," she countered quietly. Again, she didn't sound accusatory; just matter-of-fact. And she was right, anyway, so Wilhelm wasn't about to feel defensive.
He leaned his head back against the bookcase. "I know," he said. He closed his eyes momentarily, his mind offering him a flash of Simon's devastated expression in the aftermath of Wilhelm's official statement about the video. It would forever be etched in his mind, how hurt he'd looked. "But I've apologized to him already," he added, almost by reflex lifting a hand to his mouth to bite at his thumbnail. "Whatever happens now is up to him."
They were silent for a couple of heartbeats until Wilhelm spoke again. "You should tell Simon. About August."
He saw Sara rub at her face with the hem of the sleeve of her jumper; he couldn't see clearly from that angle, but the movement itself was familiar enough that he could tell she was crying. "He'll hate me," she whispered, fragile.
Wilhelm shook his head. "He won't hate you," he said, fully certain of every word. "He may be angry for a little while, but he's your brother. He loves you." He took a deep breath. "You shouldn't put it off, though. You know what the last thing I said to my brother was?" Sara shook her head no. "'You're annoying,'" Wilhelm revealed, reminiscing about that last phone conversation, and how glad he'd been to have his brother's advice that day. "Now I look back on it and think of so many things I should've told him..."
"Are you saying Simon is going to die?" Sara asked with a sniff at the end. Coming from anyone else, he might've been offended, but from Sara, it actually sounded like an earnest question.
He laughed. "No, not at all. I'm just saying... you never know what might happen," he clarified. "Even if the chance is very small, you don't want to leave things unsaid. Like, I wish I had told Erik about Simon," he confessed. "I wish I had told Erik how Simon makes this place better. How happy he makes me."
"He loves you, you know," Sara said, and Wilhelm felt like there was a supernova bursting inside his chest. Just the mere idea that Simon might reciprocate his feelings was enough to make him feel like he was floating on cloud nine.
Still, he shook his head. "He doesn't," he muttered. He didn't want to get his hopes up. A small part of Wilhelm dared to believe that Simon might love him even just a fraction of how much he loved Simon, that their short-lived relationship had meant as much to Simon as it had to him, but Simon hadn't said it back, and Wilhelm wasn't so self-centered as to make assumptions about what was in Simon's heart. Especially not after he'd ruined everything between them.
"He does," Sara reiterated. "He hasn't told me, but I know he does. Even I can see it, and I'm terrible with feelings."
Wilhelm cleared his throat, not knowing what to say to that. "Well," he started, with the most awkward twitch of his shoulders, "you can do better than August."
He panicked a little at the prospect that he might've said the wrong thing, because Sara's expression fell and she shifted her gaze down to her knees. But it wasn't really about what he said. "It felt nice, though," she admitted quietly, "having a boy like me. Having a boyfriend. Like all the other girls. I've never had that before."
She sniffled. "But then he started stealing my pills," she said, sniffling again, "and I can't—" Her voice cut off in what sounded more like a sob. "I won't go through that again," she concluded, shaking her head and once again wiping at her face with her sleeve.
Wilhelm wasn't sure if he should, like, hug her or something. He wasn't sure that would make her feel any better, or if she would even welcome it, anyway. This conversation was the most they'd ever talked to each other. "You don't have to," he tried to reassure her instead. "You don't need August. You've already got your grant, and if you get any trouble about it later on, just let me know. Or Felice, or Madison. We'll figure something out." And he meant it. He might not have interacted much with Sara before this week, but she was important to Simon, and that made her important to him. "You've got people here who care about you."
Sara nodded, still wiping her tears away. That was when Felice came back, knocking on the doorframe to get their attention. She was serious, but her expression softened a little when she saw that Sara was crying. "Hey," she said. "The nurse said she'll see you at the Manor House."
They got up off the floor, Wilhelm standing up first to make sure that Sara was able to get to her feet with only one hand. (She was.) After carefully checking that the cut on the back of her hand wasn't bleeding anymore, Sara made her way to where Felice was standing. Before she walked out the door, however, she turned back to look at Wilhelm. "Hey, Wille?" she called out. He looked at her expectantly; it was the first time she had ever called him that. "I'm sorry," she said, looking and sounding contrite.
He smiled at her. "It's okay," he replied. He wasn't sure what specifically she was apologizing for— not telling him about the tape, maybe, or the whole August thing, or maybe just being so curt to him after the press release. Or maybe all of it. It didn't really matter, though; they had bigger things to worry about at the moment. Wilhelm didn't know they could properly be called friends after this, but he felt like they'd at least come to some kind of mutual understanding.
Sara acknowledged his acceptance with a nod, and the two girls disappeared into the hallway. Wilhelm took a deep breath and grabbed his coat off the couch, making his way back to his room with Malin at his heels. He had a lot to think about what was needed of him the next day. The strike had to work. Wilhelm would make sure of it.
.
.
Author's notes!—
...Well, I did say this was a drama, didn't I? xD Sorry it took longer than usual, writing August is... a lot. LOL.
Actually, about August: Please don't defend him to me in the comments. Yes, he is a complex, layered character, and he has understandable motivations for being the way he is and doing the things he does— I just don't think those motivations are an excuse or a justification for what he did. Yes, he's a teenager, and shouldn't have his entire life defined by the worst thing he ever did; I do fundamentally agree that no one that young is fully irredeemable. Honestly, if the writers want to give him some kind of a redemption arc in season 2, I'm all up for it— I trust them, I think Malte is incredibly talented, and I trust that they'll do it well, and I reserve the right to change my mind about August if they go down that route, but until then, I don't have to like him. I tried to do the show's writing justice here, alluding to some of the less-straightforward thoughts going on underneath his veneer of superiority, but I honestly think in this particular situation, absent a longer character arc (which I will not write in this fic), he'd just be a sneery little bastard more than anything. So I hope that doesn't put anyone off. It's fine if you like August and don't appreciate this chapter because of it, but please don't try to convince me that I shouldn't dislike him. It won't change how I feel about his character.
Wille: *Has to be held back from biting off August's head clean off his shoulders like a wild tiger*
Also Wille: "Here, Sara, use this handkerchief I always carry in my coat pocket to clean your wound, it's very soft, I monogrammed it myself" xD
(I feel like I may have a thing for Wille's coat. This is the second time I've had him still wear the coat indoors/forget to take it off when going inside in this story alone. Is that weird of me? My brain will just never get used to winter, I think.)
I think it's well established from the very first scene of the show that Wille has an issue with holding back his anger, but I also think even in just six episodes (and this might be Simon's influence, I guess? Ah, the wonders of being happy and in love) he does manage to show some improvement when it comes to self-control (and I don't say this just because I spent the entirety of the gym scene in episode six muttering "punch him punch him punch him oh PLEASE punch him" at my TV, only to burst into cheers when he didn't— though if you ask me, a punch would've been cathartic, at least for me). I don't know. I wanted to show that internal struggle, but also make the point that Wille has every right to be angry; it's just what he does with that anger that matters. I hope that came across.
If you've made it this far, you might've clocked in to my secret agenda of making Wilhelm and Sara friends. ;) I think Sara did a lot of things wrong at the end of season one, but I can sort of understand where she's coming from, I think, and I believe she'll come around on her mistakes. I hope I managed to do it justice in this chapter (also, if anything I mentioned here about autism is incorrect, please let me know! I'm neurotypical and my knowledge of autism is very limited— though I'd like to think some research helps— but I'll be glad to fix anything that needs to be fixed). More of her and Wille to come in future chapters! Speaking of, you may have noticed I've added an estimated chapter count of nine. That should be eight chapters and an epilogue, though knowing myself, the epilogue will probably be just as long as a regular chapter, lol.
Shout-out to Elin98 for giving me some helpful info about student loans in Sweden! I tried to make my premise work with that in this chapter, so please do let me know if this makes sense. Also, isn't it hilarious that here I've been, making Greta jokes left and right, and just this week our beloved cast made an appearance in Greta's climate concert. Look, I'm not saying I made it happen, but... I'm also not not saying that... xD
Next up: Well, I guess the revolution will be televised after all. I mean, otherwise how would Simon be able to see it? ;)
Anyway, if you liked this, please leave kudos or comments, or feel free to hit me up on Twitter ( girls_are_weird) or Tumblr ( girls-are-weird). Always glad to hear from you guys! I have so much fun chatting about the show and the characters with you, so let's keep that going.