Chapter 10: When Gentlemen Avoid Gentlewomen

Arthur didn't see Francis for almost a week. As much as he secretly enjoyed the French boy's company, everything in his life was reaching a peak, and avoiding Francis was helping to avoid everything coming together in whatever nightmarish way it was destined to. He wasn't an idiot. He knew his denials didn't completely convince Francis. God knows what he'd do about that kind of knowledge.

Then, there was everyone else. They were onto him, but he couldn't stop. Sneaking out the first time was a horrible idea. Yes, he was equally as miserable before, but at least before he didn't know what it was like to feel that way - to accept himself and briefly ignore any guilt or fear. He couldn't stop now, even if artificially changing his feelings as Ivan would say was not working the same way. He wasn't an idiot. He knew the cocaine was bad. He knew every other thing he was putting in his system would end badly. He knew his family would figure out, and then what?

The thing was that he actually liked his family. He liked a lot about his box as Francis so eloquently coined it. He couldn't just give up his gentleman values; all the things his family taught and instilled in him. They were what made him him. He couldn't leave any of it behind. He couldn't abandon his family or let them abandon him without ruining his sense of self. He also couldn't leave the other part of himself behind. There was no choosing sides, but living both was getting hectic.

He had to keep everything in perfect balance until at least university. The act might be easier when he is older. For now, he needed to avoid people who might tip the balance like Francis.

Arthur leaned back in his desk chair with a sigh.

If he wanted to be a perpetual actor, he would join a theater company. As much as he knew acting was a necessity, he was feeling strained. He took a deep breath and let it out. Again. In. Out. Again. In. Out.

He would survive the evening without help. He would face Francis. He would be the most gentlemanliest gentleman anyone has ever seen, and, then, he would continue on.

Yes, he could do this.

For all that he stressed, dinner was not as hard as his brain made it out to be, likely because he forgot about Francis's cousin, Emma. There was no time to confront Arthur about possible drug use with a random cousin in the mix. Surprising to Arthur was how close Emma and Francis seemed. Arthur was never close with any extended family, but the two seemed to have endless stories to tell about each other.

When Francis said Emma was outgoing, he was understating it. The girl could talk forever without Arthur having to give any input, which was fine with him. He did his best to ignore her at dinner. After talking together in the living room before dinner, he was already exhausted. His social meter was drained.

He wasn't being fair putting all his annoyance on her when most of it came from everyone else - everyone else but Francis that is. The sheer amount of jokes about Emma and him getting together would make anyone go insane straight or not. When walking to dinner, Scott jabbed Arthur's side just to whisper that she was cute.

Arthur supposed she was. Her light brown hair was cropped to her shoulders and pulled back with a stylish and bright ribbon. Her eyes were as bright as her voice, and her smile was nice, almost contagious, but Arthur didn't seem to be catching the same infection as everyone else. Nice smiles must run in the Bonnefoy family.

A few times Arthur tried to talk with Francis about a book he thought the other would like, and Emma butted in. Francis lied. Emma did not like to read. She liked the outdoors. She liked to bike and go on walks and climb trees. Her ideal day was being social and outside. Every time he would mention a book, she would mention a time she read it at a cafe. "Oh! It was so beautiful. They have these fun little pastries. I went with my friend, and he told me this story…"

Maybe he could do it if he was drunk, but it was a hard maybe. Luckily, her being a chatterbox meant he just had to sit and nod. Being a passive participant in conversation Arthur wasn't enjoying was kind of his specialty at this point.

As a whole, the dinner party wasn't bad, but it wasn't good.

He didn't get to talk to Francis, which the other claimed was a shame when they hugged goodbye. He went to shake Emma's hand, but she went for a tight hug instead. Whoever said girls were weak were lying and had never met Emma. After all the Bonnefoys left, Arthur didn't stay downstairs with his family like he often would. He claimed he wanted to put on pajamas and work on a writing project while the idea was fresh.

Wanting to change wasn't a lie. He only sat at his desk for a few minutes, before he decided he might as well go and sit with everyone else. Grabbing his book, he slowly went down the stairs until he heard voices.

"He didn't seem very interested in her, did he?" The only female voice in the house rose up the stairs. Arthur paused, curious.

Scott snorted, "But has he ever?"

"That's not funny, Scott," Mr. Kirkland chastised.

"I'm just saying: is it really shocking that we have a beautiful girl over for dinner, and Arthur doesn't bat an eye and practically ignores her all night? She was even trying to flirt with him." The flirting was news to Arthur.

"I know what you're saying. Arthur may be… eccentric and may be showcasing some bad behaviors, but he isn't that." Arthur sat down on the third step at his father's statement. He thought he was doing well.

"I couldn't even imagine," Mrs. Kirkland trailed off. Arthur put his hands over his face to muffle his shaky breath.

"Well, we thought Walt had some bizarre eccentricities and look at him now."

"Do you think this is the same thing?" Scott asked.

"Possibly, but Arthur always showed great qualities and values. We just have to nip at some of those habits before they get too bad. We've been holding back, but if he can't fix things himself, we will have to help."

"I don't want to tell you how to parent, but doesn't it already seem bad?"

"I'm sure it's just small things. Maybe it's a girl at school? Some of them can be horrible influences," Mrs. Kirkland proposed, hopeful.

Someone mumbled something Arthur couldn't hear. They began to talk quietly. Arthur leaned forward straining to hear; straining to figure out how much they knew.

Scott's voice became clear. "Have you ever read any of the things he writes?"

Arthur's eyes widened. A barely audible "fuck" left his mouth as he rose and tried to quietly ascend the stairs as fast as possible. Although he knew his family were still downstairs, still talking about him - shit - he felt as if they could appear behind him at any moment.

He closed the door to his room and backed off as if the power of his family would break it down and their shame would infect him. His eyes were wide; his ears strained as if he would still be able to hear them above his now labored breathing.

He began to mutter, "It's okay. It's going to be fine. Just get rid of the bad notebooks. Just hide the bad ones." He sat in his chair grabbing notebooks and flipping through them.

His hair is long,

A male rapunzel fresh out of a fairy tale -

The damsell become hero in flesh.

The next page:

The temptations are stuck somewhere between an

Almost and a Never

He grabbed another to flip through.

It comes with the ease of going bankrupt during Backstreet Bargains,

But, then, what is the worth of one broken body?

Another.

My mind is stuck,

Nothing was spoken between us.

The silence in our private moments deafening,

But no one else could hear, they wouldn't suspect.

My mind is stuck,

Unable to forget the words I never said,

I feel them nonetheless.

He began digging in the drawer for more. There had to be one that wasn't soiled by his personal feelings.

With my family, I sit at the kitchen table,

But my body is a golem of tainted flesh.

My mind is drifted off into one sinful fable…

God dammit.

The love of the Sky and the Ground,

The two opposing forces meant to be,

But forbidden by the laws of Nature.

The only solace for the Ground are the tears from the Sky

Supplied by the river that leaves His surface broken and cracked.

What a horrible view it must be from above.

Fuck.

As my world ends, my eyes are only filled with his beauty -

The gleam in his blue eyes shine so brightly the rest fades.

They were all incriminating. How had he never known? For years he filled notebook after notebook with this crap and never realized. Hell, even the story Scott said he liked didn't look too good now. The youngest son of a royal family hiding magic from them to avoid persecution and them taking it away so that he could continue to participate in the kingdom's traditions and grow up to be a high member of the court? There was even a rival kingdom that embraced magic that tempted the main character. He was so fucking obvious. It was infuriating. It was embarrassing. It was about to be a huge problem.

Arthur stood trying to control his breathing. He needed to think and to think fast. This was not something that could be fixed. The best he could do was minimize the damage. He surveyed the room, his full notebooks scattered around. He began grabbing them and making two piles. From the left pile he picked one and put it on his desk, the rest from that pile went back in the drawer, and the right pile went into the back corner of his closet next to his records. The clothes hanging mostly obscured them, so they would remain hidden for now.

He jogged to the door and put his ear against it. The voices could be louder now or it could be all in his head. Turning off his light, he jumped into bed. If they thought he was sleeping, he would have at least one more night before any confrontation.

Not long after he laid down, his door opened.

A voice whispered, "He's sleeping."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut forcing himself to not turn around and see who all was there. He heard some shuffling, a proposal to sit him down tomorrow, and the door closing. Arthur counted to twenty, opened his eyes slowly, and sat up. The notebook he left on his desk was gone.

Life as he knew it had ended.

He sucked in a breath and let it out. The threads of his sheets strained against his tight grip. No way he was going to fall asleep. He reflected on every aspect of his life, every coping mechanism, every bit he liked and hated. If he couldn't have what his family had to offer, he might as well go all in on everything else. If he couldn't be better, he could feel better. Not like his family would just kick him out when there were so many appearances to keep.

Everything would suck, but at least he knew how to distract himself from it.

A/N: Have I been sitting on 50 pages because I was just missing a few scenes? Do I have tons of bad half-written poems everywhere? Also yes.

Sorry for the wait. I had to accept some things in my head were just going to be different on paper.

Thanks for sticking around and reaching out. Also I'm slowly putting all my works on AO3, if you prefer reading there. The next updates will be faster (and the next is long so buckle up)