A/N: My apologies for the abrupt absence so early on. I've been a very busy bee. I passed my boards, got my pharmacist license, got a full-time job at the hospital I have interned at for the past two years, moved into my new apartment, went on vacation, and celebrated my birthday all within the span of when I last touched this story. Needless to say, a lot has changed, but the stressful part is behind me. Now, I can focus more on the story.

I just wanted to say thank you to those people who submitted characters! I have accepted some very lovely, very unique boys I cannot wait to sink my teeth into. That being said, the SYOC is still open to those who still wish to submit a character! I hope you all enjoy this Kase-centric chapter!

The Thing About Families

The thing about families is that they're complicated.

They're full of drama, mess, they meddle in every aspect of your life, and you're stuck with them for the rest of eternity.

At least, that was the family you were born into. The family you chose was supposed to be better. It was supposed to be a network of support. It was supposed to be the arms you fell into when the family you were born into grated on your nerves so hard you thought you might just go insane. The family you chose wasn't supposed to make you feel like shit 24/7, cheat on you, and flaunt that fact in front of your face.

Elodie clearly never got the memo.

Which would have been fine - no it wouldn't. It could never, ever be fine - if Elodie's pathetic excuse for a husband had chosen to cheat with anyone else.

Some days, Kase thought that Felix did it on purpose - picked the one person he knew would drive the knife in deepest. But on those days, Kase forgot how much of an ignorant ass Felix was, and that he lacked the capacity to scheme up something so cruel. An affair like this...there was no other word to describe it other than cruel. It caused both Kase and Elodie pain every day. Some days were better, but some days were like breakfast today. Kase had smelled him, smelled it, and his vision went red. Rage crept into his veins, and all he wanted to do was reach across the table and throttle Felix. It took every ounce of self-restraint Kase had to leave the room.

He settled for punching the wall instead. If Kase imagined Felix's face in the plaster, that was between him and the powers that be.

How dare Felix show up to breakfast wearing another woman's perfume! Wearing her perfume.

Brayden's perfume.

All these years later and she still wore the same perfume. It triggered the worst parts of Kase, drove him insane to the point where he couldn't even think straight. Even now, when he thought about his first serious relationship, Kase could only remember the bad times. Were there even any good times? There had to have been. He used to be so in love with Brayden. There had to be a reason why. He just could not remember; he refused to remember.

Turning Brayden Malik into a heartless, gold-digging harpy was how he coped with the fact that she had jumped off his dick and onto Felix's as soon as she got the chance.

She was using him. Of course she was using him. Kase was the spare. It was all he was good for: a stepping stone on the way to the top. Why settle for second best when she could have the Crown Prince?

Dad used to say that Brayden's mother, Angelina Malik, was no better when she was in his Selection: always cutting others down and climbing her way to the top. He had tried to warn Kase, cautioned him to be careful. Kase had ignored him. Kase thought Brayden was different, didn't want to judge her based on her mother's sins. Obviously the apple did not fall far from the tree.

There were times when Kase wondered if Brayden had ever loved him at all, or if she had only seen a challenge that even her mother could not win. Was it all just a game to her? Was any of it real?

"Oooof, who pissed in your Cheerios?"

Kase was violently pulled from his train wreck of thoughts by his younger sister. Delia was perched on a widow sill, half hidden by the heavy curtains, dressed like a blind hippie had picked her clothes. Her legs were crossed underneath her while she smoked something that smelled suspiciously of marijuana. How she manged to sneak the stuff inside, Kase did not want to know. But that was Delia: always up to no good.

"Are you high right now?"

"Want some?" she asked, proffering the itty bitty stub of her joint. "Looks like you could use it."

"Seriously, Dee?" Kase asked, incredulous. His sister really did know no bounds. "It's nine in the morning."

"Chill out Incredible Hulk," Delia scoffed and rolled her eyes, exhaling a puff of smoke out the window. "Isn't it also a little early to be punching holes in walls? Maybe if you were more like me, you wouldn't be such a goddamn rage-aholic."

Kase flexed his bruised knuckles and bit back the urge to mock her. If only a little bit of weed could solve his problems. He'd been seeing his therapist for years, and even they couldn't fix him.

"I think I'll take my chances."

Delia shut the window, stubbed the joint out, and threw the remains into the vase. She didn't even seem apologetic about vandalizing her home. Irreverent to the core, that was Delia.

It was only when she brushed by him that Kase noticed Delia's eyes were rimmed-red. It could have easily been from the weed, but that wouldn't have made her cheeks splotchy, and it wouldn't have made her nose bright red either. Kase was going to ask about it, the anger suddenly faded because why is my sister crying? But then she snapped on her sunglasses and turned the corner to the dining hall. Gone.

Kase would have gone after her, but what would he say?

Damn. When did it become so hard to talk to his own sister?

Whatever distance had grown between them wasn't going to be crossed in a day. Particularly not this day. So, Kase kept on his path to his room, keeping his head down and his thoughts to himself. He didn't need any more negative attention from the staff. They were already going to be mad at him about the hole. They knew it was him, too; they had long since been familiar with the size of his fist and exactly how much damage it could cause to the decor.

The thing was, Kase wasn't a violent person. He wasn't even an angry person, per say. He just had so many feelings all at once, so many of them negative, that he felt like if he didn't get them out somehow, he would explode. His therapist kept telling him to find "healthy outlets", but there was something about the sharp sting of scraped knuckles, a point of pressure, a moment of pain, that could snap him out of the most turbulent of head spaces.

Kase knew that was unhealthy. When he first told his therapist, they asked him what kind of trauma he'd endured as a child. He felt like an idiot saying he had none. He had a perfect childhood.

So why was he so fucked up inside?

In his room, Kase let the tension from the morning fall away.

The phone in his pocket buzzed. He pulled it out and read the banner that popped up on the screen.

_kinky_photog_ has posted a picture of you.

Rolling his eyes, Kase swiped to open the InstaGraph link. It took him to a familiar page exclusively dedicated to one thing: black and white photos of he, his cousin Gen, and her wife Neelam in various scandalous scenarios. Based on the content of the page, the whole world probably thought that the three of them were engaged in the most taboo ménage-à-trois of all time. When in reality, the page was the culmination of too much wine, an old Kodak polaroid, and Neelam's intense desire to troll the universe.

This particular photo was an oldie but goodie. Taken a year and a half ago on Bastille Day, it featured a very disheveled Kase with his shit collar popped and open, dark lipstick marks scattered across his cheeks and clavicles, his hair wild like fingers had run through it. Neelam stood with her back to the camera, looking seductively over one shoulder while pouting her lips painted as dark as the marks on Kase's skin, one hand curved around his neck. Gen had taken that one, Kase recalled, right after he had managed to peel a couple drunk party girls off of him and nearly fallen in a fountain. The public didn't know that part though. And they never would.

The caption read: je t'aime followed by multiple lipstick mark emojis. As if the picture wasn't enough to get the point across. It was definitely Gen's work - probably payback for the last picture Kase posted of her holding a pizza box wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that read "wide load" on the ass.

Because Kase was an agent of chaos, he liked the photo and watched the reactions pour in.

This would be front page news in some tabloid tomorrow. It always was.

Satisfied, Kase scrolled through the rest of his notifications. Most were insignificant. There were a ton from Tweetster, SnapClick, and InstaGraph, per usual. A couple of reminders for events he had no intention of going to. He had slept through two of the missed calls, and another one he declined during breakfast. They were all from Drina.

Damn, she could be needy sometimes.

Then Kase remembered what day it was.

Fuck.

Kase had never dialed a number so quickly in his entire life. While the phone rang, Kase tried to calculate just how screwed he was. At least it was still a decent hour in Russia. Drina wouldn't be asleep...hopefully.

The phone picked up. There was static. And then -

"What do you want?" came a rough, masculine voice that definitely did not belong to Drina. The Russian accent sounded defensive, angry even. Though he had never met the owner, Kase immediately had an idea of who it was. Tsarevich Ivar Irvaninoff was known for being amiable until the moment someone hurt his little sister. He had also vocally disapproved of Kase and Drina's relationship from day one.

Ivar had good reason. What kind of boyfriend forgot their girlfriend's birthday?

"Is Alexandrina there?" Kase asked, picking at the hem of his sleeve. He hoped he didn't sound nervous. "Can I talk to her?"

There was noise on the other end, muffled talking. Kase knew a side conversation when he heard one. Drina was there, but his chances of getting her on the line were dwindling by the second.

"She does not wish to speak to you," Ivar replied, his tone still clipped, suggesting that if Kase were there in person, Ivar would punch him in the face, diplomacy be damned.

"I know I messed up, but if she would just let me explain - "

"Stop calling here, Schreave."

Rage crept into Kase's veins at the idea of being cast aside by yet another person. "No, you listen to me - "

The line went dead.

Kase was so angry he threw his phone across the room.

Right at his Dad.

Luckily, King Kaden Schreave had quick reflexes, dodging the airborne device before it could hit him square in the forehead. The phone landed with a cracking sound at the older man's feet. Kaden sighed. Kase winced. That would be the third phone this year. Definitely not getting out of paying for that one.

"Is now a bad time?" Dad asked as he bent to retrieve the phone, knowing full well that yes, it was a terrible time. But he had on that face and was using that tone that said that he didn't care what Kase was going through, they were going to talk. Now.

Kase knew it was about breakfast. It had to be about breakfast. They had this talk at least once a week, and nothing ever changed. Nothing would change until Elodie finally kicked that scum bag to the curb. But she had banned the entire household from whispering a word to Mom or Dad for the sake of their 'fragile' state of mind. Please. Nothing was fragile about Kaden and Finnley. It was just Elodie-speak for 'I'm too prideful to admit that I messed up by marrying this loser and I'm too much of a coward to show that mistake to the world, even if it means ruining my family in the process'.

But so long as Kase couldn't explain any of that, he got the pleasure of looking like the bad guy to everyone, including his parents.

Might as well get this over with, Kase sighed internally and waved his Dad inside his room. There was a pile of dirty clothes he could sort for the maids to take his mind off of the lecture he could probably recite.

"I have something for you," Dad said, changing the expected programming. He dug around in his pocket before fishing out a small wrapped package. He handed it to Kase. "You're a hard man to find. I haven't had the chance to give this to you. It's from New Asia."

Kase eyed the box with suspicion, but he took it all the same. There had to be a catch.

"You haven't brought us back souvenirs in years."

"It's not from me. It's from Princess Han Soon-Mae."

Ah, there it was.

Kase tried not to roll his eyes as he peeled away the wrapping. The box itself was lovely, dark wood with intricate lotus flowers carved on the exterior. It must have cost a fortune. The suspicion escalated when, from inside the box, Kase removed a jade pin in the shape of the same lotus flower carved on the outside. An extravagant gift for someone with whom the princess had barely exchanged five words her whole life.

"Dad, what the hell is this?"

"I told you, a gift from the princess. The Empress made it seem like she liked you quite a bit."

"She doesn't even know me!"

"Nonsense. You've spent nearly every New Years together since you were children."

"Yeah, in opposite corners of the room speaking to different people! I can't believe - " Kase cut himself off before he said something he regretted. This was typical Dad, butting his nose into things that were not his business. "I'm in a relationship with Drina!"

"Are you? I can never keep up," Dad replied, his words implying that yes, he had listened to every word of that phone call. Perfect. Now onto the lecture of... "Kasey, you need stability in your life. For years you've been floundering. I can't stand seeing you so lost."

"And your idea of fixing me includes, what? Marrying me off to New Asia to push your political agenda?" Kase accused, knowing full well that would fulfill every single one of his father's fantasies. Not that he ever intended to use his children as pawns, but everyone knew that Kaden Schreave's two goals in life were to see his children live happily ever after, and maintain peace with New Asia by any means necessary. Those were his father's goals. Not Kase's. "No thanks. I'm not Auden."

"Just think about it," Dad encouraged, both hands up like he was trying to placate a bear. "Like I told Empress Han Eunmi - "

"Told her what?" Kase cut his father off, horrified at the implications of what that meant. What the hell had Dad done?

"I simply said that you were interested in settling down, looking for a good match..."

"Oh my God," Kase breathed, trying not to explode. He could feel the vein in his temple throbbing, hot and angry. His anger must have shown, because Dad did not look happy either.

"I was only trying to help you!"

"You're only making things worse!" Kase shouted, having reached his limit. His blood was boiling and his heart was pounding in his ears. "You only ever make things worse!"

Kase regretted saying the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he couldn't take them back. Not only could he not take them back, but he could not apologize for them. Not when they were the truth. He could not deny that his life would be so much easier without his Dad and his Mom trying to tell him what to do. He wasn't broken. So what if he wasn't married? So what if he never married? That didn't mean there was something wrong with him. And marrying Han Soon-Mae or Drina or anyone else sure as hell wasn't going to fix what was wrong. It wasn't that simple.

All at once, the bad things came crashing down, closing him in, smothering him. He needed out. He needed out now. Before that look on his Dad's face suffocated him with guilt.

"I'm leaving."

"Kasey - "

"No, I need to leave."

The conviction of it was what finally silenced Kaden. Kase could see all the argument in his father's eyes die, replaced by a tired acceptance. He was not unfamiliar with this particular dance. Kase had already left the house twice this year under similar circumstances.

"For how long?"

"I don't know."

"Right," Dad said, his tone neutral in the most non-neutral way possible. He had his king face on now, the one that he used when confronting the most cantankerous of governors and stubbornest of counselors. The face that showed just how many years of hard decisions he had had to make. He placed Kase's broken phone on the table by the door, sliding it his way. "If you leave, don't come back until you feel you've got your head on straight. We love you, Kasey, but your mother and I have enough to worry about hosting a Section without entertaining your mood swings."

The door slammed shut behind him, stinging worse than a slap in the face.

But, as much as it stung, it did nothing to distract from the constriction in his lungs. The room still felt far too small, and was it spinning or was that just him? Kase tripped over his feet and fell back against the bed, trying his best to just breathe. Why was it so goddamn hard to breathe?

Tears stung at Kase's eyes, hating how weak his body could make him feel. He wasn't a small guy. He was over six feet tall and worked out most days in the week, and could still be taken apart by a few choice words. Kase threw an arm over his face, hiding it from the people who weren't there.

Wet, scratchy kisses were licked across the back of his hand, and Kase felt the burning turn into something warm and a little more bearable. He unclenched his jaw, lips inching up into a smile as he took the slobbery hand and ran it through a coat of thick fur. The wet kisses increased ten fold, until the knot in Kase's chest loosened enough to let out a belly laugh.

"You still love me, don't you Titus?" Kase asked the goodest and most loyal boy in his life. Titus, the ten year old German Shepherd Kase had had since he was a teen, continued to smile a toothy smile, gracing Kase with a wagging tail and beef-breath.

"I'm sorry I'm leaving again," Kase apologized. Even though Titus couldn't understand him, he could sense Kase's sadness, and wiggled his body closer and let out a whine. Technically Titus wasn't allowed on the bed, but Kase always made an exception. What the maids didn't see couldn't hurt. "I know, I know. Don't look at me like that. You deserve better than me anyway."

Titus barked as if in agreement, and Kase chuckled.

"I guess I should get to packing."

Kase got up off the bed and Titus jumped to follow at his heels.

The duffle bag was still thrown in the far corner of Kase's closet, rumpled from the last impromptu trip. That one had been a three-week jaunt to St. Petersburg to visit Drina. The snow had been two feet deep; they shut themselves up in a hunting lodge off palace grounds and made out in the bitter cold for as long as their fingers and toes could stand it. Kase would not be welcome in Russia any time soon. Not unless he had a death wish. Or a wish to start another World War.

"Where should I go this time?"

The question was his thoughts aloud, but Titus barked happily at bedside table where his broken phone was buzzing. Despite the cracked screen, notifications from the InstaGraph post were still rolling in. It was looking to be the most-liked post on the page. Just seeing it made Kase smile.

His heart knew where he had to go. Paris it was.

Kase threw a couple tee shirts and pairs of jeans into the duffle bag, not bothering to grab much else other than the basics: underwear, shaving cream, toothbrush. Anything else he could purchase. Or, if he was being honest, he went to Versailles so much he probably already had a stash there. Satisfied, Kase shouldered his duffle bag and pocketed his passport.

"Terrorize Janus for me while I'm gone," he told Titus as he bent down for a final pet, scratching behind the dog's ears. Kase scrunched his nose as the wet, scratchy tongue liked a stripe across his face. It was disgusting and endearing all at once. "Good boy."

Kase may not miss his Dad or the palace or all the toxic lies, but he was really going to miss his dog.