stormy weather (dreamnotfound)

chapter 1 - stress

I stared up into the chandelier, lazily holding my arm over my head as I laid down, squinting my eyes at the bright light. I closed one eye and then the other, switching back and forth as the light moved around my vision. I sighed and I turned over on my side, twisting my hair between two fingers out of boredom.

"George, are you even listening?"

I startled and sat up quickly, putting both hands behind my back to balance myself. My head snapped over in her direction, a guilty smile growing on my lips.

She scoffed and placed her hands on her hips, walking over to my bed. "I'm trying to teach you about cleaning," she stated, tapping the tip of my nose with her duster.

I blinked and tried not to sneeze. "Becca, why do I need to know these things. I'm the prince," I huffed, crossing my arms and flopping back on the bed.

She rolled her eyes and walked over to my shelf. Her long, fuzzy hair laid softly over her shoulders, the purple dye bringing flavor to her bland uniform. She wasn't much older than me, no wrinkles formed under her eyes when she smiled and she didn't limp like the rest of the maids.

"One day you're gonna be alone in the wilderness and you're not gonna know how to defend yourself," she started.

"And dusting is gonna help with that?" I spat back, raising an eyebrow.

She gave me an annoyed glance before returning to her cleaning. "You never know."

I looked back up at the chandelier, following the lines on the ceiling with my eyes. I wish Becca came in here more often, it gets so lonely locked away in this dark room. Besides, she looks good in that sk-

"Are you gonna answer that?" I was dragged out of my thoughts by the buzzing in my pocket, quickly fumbling for my phone while Becca snickered quietly. I frantically swiped my thumb across the answer button, and blinked rapidly as I placed the phone up to my ear, knowing I had left her waiting.

"George Henry, why didn't you answer on the first ring?" her usually soft tone was booming through the speaker.

"Now now, Niki, here. Have some blue," the phone barely picked up another quiet voice.

"Blue? I don't want your napkin," she scoffed, and I winced at the glitching speaker.

"I'm sorry mum, I was talking to Becca," I looked over guiltily, and she held in a laugh as she swept the floor.

I heard her annoyed sigh before she continued. "We have important news, so please come to the main hall in a few moments."

"Yes mum," I answered, nodding briskly even though she couldn't see me. She hung up and I jumped out of bed.

"You're such a si-"

"She's literally the queen, minx." I spat her nickname before throwing my door open and flying down the carpeted hallway.

-

Before I entered the ballroom, I stood behind the doorway and flicked my collar down. I brushed off my shirt, ran a hand through my hair, and tried to make myself look presentable in front of my parents. I know they don't really care what my appearance looks like when it's just us, but I know mother likes to keep it formal. I drew in a sharp breath and pushed open the extravagant glass door, revealing the grand ballroom. No matter how many times I entered this room, I would never get used to the look of it. The walls were lined with golden paper, each wooden table perfectly matched with its own set of chairs. Crystal chandeliers in line with every place setting, and the flooring was a rustic spruce color that smelt of pine. And the dance floor, my favorite place, right in the center of the hall with a dazzling disco ball hanging above.