Why Not Us

Bailey's POV

Bailey quickly went up the stairs to his room but was stopped when he saw the coffee-skinned boy sitting in the hall staring at his family's portraits. He wanted to talk to him so he checked his phone quickly even though he didn't care how late he would be for dinner with his parents. He saw the boy quickly get up while looking at his phone not noticing he was about to walk into Bailey.

"Seems like your wish came true," He chuckled

Bailey looked down and saw the shock on his face but when he stepped back the boy stumbled so Bailey immediately reached for his elbow.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," The boy said, still shocked.

"It's okay, I'm the one that caught you by surprise," Bailey continued, "Do you think you might want to meet at ten for some tea tonight?" he asked.

The mystery boy quickly agreed to meet in the staff kitchen at ten, Bailey could see his rosy blush. After excusing themselves Bailey carried on walking to his room where the servant by the door opened it for him. He quickly went to his closet to change into a dark brown polo and kept his black slacks on. He quickly made his way out the door and to the main stairs to walk to the grand dining hall on the first floor.

"Sorry, I'm late," He continued, "I thought I'd change before dinner," Bailey ended. It had been a tradition since his older brother had died that they would have a family dinner here instead of at the personal table every Friday in honor of Elliot.

"Where were you? I heard Maisie was back," His dad, Ludvig said.

"Oh, yes, I went to see her and catch up," Bailey replied while picking at his food.

"Were her American travels good?" His mother asked, he nodded in response.

They continued eating in silence before his mother started questioning Bailey about the galas, "Have you thought about who you might choose yet, Bailey?".

"Mama they haven't even started yet," He whined.

"I know that but you should be thinking about your options," His father agreed with her. His mother was clearly about to protest further, encouraging him to start looking but Bailey suddenly felt queasy while feeling his mother's cold gaze. Bailey could feel the lump forming in his throat, "I've lost my appetite, good night," he abruptly said while getting up and pushing in his chair. His parents looked shocked for a moment before wishing him a good night.

Once Bailey was out of the dining hall and the doors were shut he immediately started sprinting towards the stairs to his room. When he was a few feet away from his door he started rubbing his chest with his right hand. The door closed behind him and he fell against it while holding his head. He pulled at his hair, breathing quickly. Bailey wanted to scream and shuffled over to his window to climb onto the windowsill while opening it. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, all he could hear was silence.

He gave up and slumped against the wall behind him as he rested on the windowsill. Bailey felt like he couldn't breathe so he leaned his head back out the window which slowly started to help ease the invisible pain in his heart. Now all he could think about was crawling up on his brother's bed, so that's what he did.

Bailey knew that once he stepped into that room he would start crying, but sometimes that helped. So he crawled off the windowsill and walked slowly out his door and down the hall to his brother's room he took a deep breath and opened the door. He already felt the tears starting to form as he closed the door behind him and lay on the bed. It helped him feel better laying in his brother's old bed, if he tried hard enough Bailey could almost smell a mix of his old shampoo and cologne.

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He fell asleep on the bed for a few hours and when he woke up it was already eight forty-five. Bailey groggily climbed out of the now messy bed to fix it. He walked over to scan the desk in the room and eventually sat on a dusty red antique chair next to it. He felt bitter thinking about how his brother wasn't around to use it anymore. Bailey couldn't accept that it wasn't him in that car five years ago, that usually only happened when his mother or sometimes father was really bugging him with events and other duties a Crown Prince must do where a prince would not. Bailey also didn't wish for those burdensome duties to be on his now late brother, and not even someone who wanted the role.

He kept feeling a lump in his throat sitting at his desk alone. Bailey smiled when he looked at the framed pictures of himself and some of both of them, scattered across the desk. He always knew his brother loved him but it was hard to believe that right after Elliot left him, even if he knew it hadn't been his brother's choice to leave him all by himself. He picked his phone up and noticed it was a few minutes before ten so he sprinted to his room to change into an old black shirt and frog-patterned pajama pants. Bailey left his room lucky to not have the servant outside his room and rushed down the stairs going through a few secluded hallways to get to the staff kitchen. His face immediately lit up when he saw the coffee-skinned boy sitting at the island.

"Hey," He said, walking towards the tea drawer.

"Hi," The other boy smiled, "Where'd you go earlier?".

"Went to my friend's house," Bailey replied, "She just got back from America,".

"Was it fun?" He asked while leaping off the stool towards the prince.

"Seems like it," He answered, "She got me a snowglobe and mug from New York,".

"You like snowglobes?" The curly-haired boy giggled.

"Yes, Elliot gave me one once and I've liked them ever since," Bailey shyly smiled. Bailey now stood in front of him with his freshly made tea. He tapped the boy's shoulder and they sat on the stools.

"How do you feel about the galas?" He looked into Bailey's eyes straight-faced.

"It's my duty," He cleared his throat, "There's nothing I can do about it,". They looked at each other smiling, one sympathetic and the other sadly. "It's okay," The boy said, resting his hand on Bailey's shoulder. Bailey built up the courage to remove the boy's hand and lay his head on his shoulder instead. Bailey glanced at his face while he drank his tea. "The first gala is next Friday," He said looking at Bailey. He nodded in response

They talked until midnight about their lives. Apparently, the mystery boy had a sister a year older than him. He also was an immigrant from Venezuela and could speak Spanish. Bailey told him about his childhood and how he never knew what it was like to be a normal person or have a normal family.

Eventually, they said their goodnights at the top of the stairs, smiling at each other. Bailey fell asleep still wondering what the boy's name could be, but he'd eventually figure it out. He was sure of it.