Prince Omar Fallon made his way through the large crowd of partygoers, swishing God awful white wine in his cup as he moved about the room. Like an old school maze runner game, he bobbed and weaved his way through the party goers, avoiding handsy women seeking a ‘private tour of the castle’. But, what many of them didn’t know was Omar was already spoken for; and even if he wasn’t, he had no interest in the female company outside of friendship anyways. Omar was gay. It wasn’t a secret. All closest to the prince knew of his sexuality; he was living, part time, with his boyfriend, Standley, after all. But Standley was what many called a ‘commer’. He drove a simple Toyota that he’d gotten with money he saved up to get and lived in the city with three other housemates. Granted, his apartment was quite luxurious for someone of his stature, but he was the prince’s boyfriend after all. Despite Standley’s protest at first, Omar managed to convince his boyfriend to get the more luxurious, high rise, just for it’s hidden location and parking garage.
A few women managed to catch the prince, tugging on his arms, begging for a dance, but Omar slipped through their fingers like butter, claiming to be needed elsewhere. After repeating this process at least ten times, the prince finally made it over to the refreshments. Sighing in relief, he attempted to reach for a cookie when a camera was shoved in his face as a small, blonde appeared in front of him.
“Prince Omar, so good to see you!”
Her high pitched voice was that of nails dragging across a blackboard, but Omar still smiled his best, fakest smile as he turned around.
“Oh Amy, so glad to see you.” That was a lie.
The prince didn’t do interviews. Reporters were too invasive for his taste, wanting to know the who’s what’s and the when’s and the why’s of his every move. Even his own mother wasn’t that invested in him.
“Your highness. I couldn’t help but notice you’re drinking alone. With all these beautiful women here-”
She paused for a moment, allowing her cameraman a second to pan around the room, highlighting the many partygoers, before continuing.
“How could you possibly be drinking alone?”
Omar had to actively resist the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been asked this question so many times, in so many different ways.
“What, no girlfriend?” One would ask.
“When are we going to get a future Queen” Another would wonder.
In all his interviews no matter the length or topic of discussion, he seemed to always be asked the same question. He wasn’t ashamed of being gay by even the slightest. But Standley liked being able to go outside without being bombarded with ‘fans’ and reporters and Omar respected that. Oftentimes, causing Omar to envy his boyfriend’s right to privacy.
“Sometimes a moment of solitude, even in the most crowded of rooms, is nice. It leaves room for thinking.” He replied with a smile.
“Thinking? Of potential queens perhaps?” The reporter suggested with a grin.
The cameraman paned the room for a moment, highlighting all the women as Omar did his best not to scream. He didn’t even want to be at the ball in the first place. But nevertheless, he remained calm as they swung back around to him.
“Something like that.” He said, winking at the camera.
With the reporter too busy blushing at his response, Omar abandoned the snack table and made his way into the crowd of partygoers. As he waved his way around dancing bodies, he dodge handsy women and a few more reporters before finally making it to his desired destination.
Tucked away in a makeshift, VIP corner, his mother and two of his sisters stood in a circle sipping wine as they conversated amongst one another. When they finally noticed him, the women smiled, his mother welcoming him with open arms.
“My love, are you headed out?” She asked.
Knowing her son all too well, she knew he was way over being at the gathering.
Melting into her, he hugged her tightly as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Yes. You and father asked for an appearance, I appeared, and now, for my last trick, I will disappear.” He said, causing his sisters to laugh.
After embracing them as well, He straightened his suit, mentally preparing himself for another game of ‘duck and dodge.’ Fortunately, he was able to make it all the way to the exit, this time only being stopped by friends and family simply wishing him farewell and safe travels.
Upon arriving outside, he was bombarded with more reporters, these ones out for blood. As cameras flashed, they shoved microphones in his face asking far too personal questions, but the prince paid them no mind. With his head down, he slipped into the back of his limo and was off. Then, leaning back in his seat,he tugged at his bow tie as the driver took off. After getting it undone, he threw the tie down beside him, his phone buzzing.
‘Bring wine’ read the text displayed on his lock screen.
Shaking his head, he responded with a ‘Will do’ before tucking the device back into his pocket. In no time, he was back at his penthouse, his driver dropping him off out front. Then, hopping on the elevator, he ran into his favorite elderly neighbor, who he helped with their groceries before heading up to his penthouse. In a hurry, he slipped into the apartment, stripping down to his underwear before pulling on black sweats and a matching hoodie. Then, after throwing some clothes and a few toiletries into a backpack, he headed to the kitchen where he grabbed the wine and some cheese puffs. After tossing the bottle into the bag as well, he slipped out the back door, making his way down the hidden staircase. When he got to the bottom, he threw open the garage door. Walking down the line of cars, he passed his Ferri, his McLaren, and his Lamborghini, going instead for his Toyota Carmy. Then, after tossing his bag in the back, he slipped behind the wheel and cranked the car to life. In no time, he was cruising through traffic, making his way to the other side of town.
After about an hour and a half. The prince pulled up to an apartment much like the one he had in the city.
After swiping his keycard, he waited for the gates of the apartment to open before pulling into the parking lot and parking in his usual spot towards the back. Then, after hopping out of his car, the prince crossed the street and made his way to the side of a skyscraper of an apartment building. Once inside, he hopped onto the elevator, riding it all the way to the top. Upon arrival, he stepped off, making his way down the hall. When he got to the end, he stopped at apartment 1571. Balling up his fist, he was about to knock, when the door swung open.
“Where’s my wine?” Standley asked immediately.
Grinning, the prince reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle.
Smiling, the man pulled the prince in, kissing him softly before pulling back and swiping the wine. Stanley then turned around, heading back into the apartment.
“So what’s this I hear about you dating Princess Francesca? ” Standley said.
Throwing his head back, the prince laughed as he pushed the door shut; locking it.