Stand By Me

cuatro | thunderstorm

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ANTONIO

           ANTONIO WOKE UP  THE NEXT MORNING WITH A BOTTLE OF some rare aged wine in his left hand and a half-eaten pancake in the other. His head felt as if someone had hammered it repeatedly with a club, and dried drool was coating the left side of his face. All of the covers were kicked off the bed and it was pitch-dark in his room. He had no idea what time he had gone to bed, but based on the heaviness in his eyes, Antonio guessed he had only been asleep for what felt like two seconds.

           Suddenly there was a harsh banging on his door. "Prince Antonio!" someone yelled from the other side, followed by five continuous bangs on the door.

           "Uh, come again next time," Antonio shut his eyes again, dropping the bottle onto the floor. He expected it to break into a million pieces on the marble ground, but the sound of breaking crystal never came. Instead, it landed among a pile of other bottles of various assortments – some bottles of beer, a jug of rum, and two vials of vodka, all empty and cushioning its fall. 

Someone was kicking the door down this time. "Prince Antonio!"

     "Shut up!" He yelled, twisting in his bed and reaching over to a familiar spot beside him. "Serafina, tell whoever it is to stick whatever they need up their butt."

        But Antonio's arm made contact with nothing. His hand landed half-heartedly on his plush sheets, and he was reaching for air. Thinking made his head throb even more with his hangover, but there wasn't much thinking that had to be done to remember what had happened. And to think, just a week ago, he was the happiest man alive.

        Whoever was at the door was at their wit's end. After some vicious curse words, the doorknob rattled and some keys jangled, before someone burst through the door. Antonio groaned and slammed a pillow over his ears, shoving his face into his mattress. "I told you to shut up and stay out! How does that not get through your thick head?"

            Someone quickly walked across the spacious room, before pulling open the curtains. Even with his face smashed against the sheets, Antonio could still feel the bright white light of day. It could've been nine in the morning, noon, or even five in the afternoon. His head was spinning and he had no recollection of how or why he was holding a pancake, or why he only had one shoe on.

The person who had rudely interrupted his hangover sighed, before calmly saying, "Antonio."

            At the sound of the voice, Antonio inwardly grimaced. Instantly, Antonio pulled the pillow off and sat up in his bed, the voice sending instant ripples of realization through him. "Mother."

          Leonor was standing against the light of the window, and the sun rays made a glorious halo of the Queen's seemingly perfect auburn hair. Her hands were on her hips, her jaw squared, and her eyes narrowed with disappointment. She tsk'ed, her fully coated lips pursing. "You have to get out of bed, Tonio. You can't just lock yourself in your room and shut out the world."

            She glanced at the mountain of drinks by his bed, kicking an empty, dry bottle away from her and crinkling her nose. "Seriously, mijo?"

             Antonio scoffed, "You always said you'd rather me drink in the palace instead of outside."

"Well have you been drinking outside lately?"

         "Yes," Antonio chuckled, before wincing at the pain in his head.

     "I know this has been hard for you, and you probably resent both your father and I for not telling you sooner of the plan. But if you had known, you would have done everything in your power to stop it, and I know you're all for dramatic flair, so I'm certain you would have done something tabloid-worthy and have you in the wrong spotlight – again," Leonor sighed, "We couldn't risk a big scene."