Stand By Me

diez | blurry

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ANTONIO 

ANTONIO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL HE WAS DOING IN A GIRL'S DORM ROOM. 

      Looking around at the quaint, almost suffocating closet of a dorm, he felt something closely resembling the sensation of being left out. Like his twin brother, he didn't have the college experience that they glorify in those American films. He had attended a private boarding school in the Swiss Alps for as long as he could remember, sheltered away from the illusions of Saturday partying and cramming two people into a dorm. Once he was old enough for college, he attended private classes at Oxford, having to be shipped home to Madrid every other weekend for press conferences and the like, as he and his brother were a package deal. Whenever Roberto would have press conferences, Antonio would follow, standing a few feet behind him always. 

    He saw glimpses of the fantasy college life he so wondered about. Polaroid pictures were haphazardly attached to the mini-mini fridge with colorful magnets. One magnet was from a local Taco Bell, holding up a polaroid picture of two girls posing in front of a soccer field. He noticed the mess of notebook paper laying on the table, and the piles of Instant Noodle wrappers in the trash bin, and the whiteboard on the wall that had miles and miles of reminders and homework posts. The studio apartment was nothing more than a glorified walk-in closet, and Antonio had shoe spaces bigger than this. But for a while, he wondered what this life would have been like. It might have been nice to experience something other than being second to the Crown Prince. 

         Antonio looked down at the box he carried in his hands. It was a new pair of tennis shoes for the girl -- Laurel. He didn't know what brand she preferred; he simply got the most expensive one. Antonio was usually smooth -- an expert in the ways of a single bachelor. Single, elite bachelors do not puke on a girl's shoes. That was a moment of weakness, he admits. However, Prince Antonio never goes back on his word, and he knew he had to repay the girl. 

             He wishes he could say it was just the mere desire of paying the girl back that made him inquire about a Laurel James in Madrid. However, he'd be lying to himself if he said that. Laurel James, the Girl in the Elevator, was on his mind the whole day. The only girl to not have drooled at his feet, or treated him as something other than his wealth or title. Even for just a few minutes in a trapped elevator, it had caught him offguard to have met someone who wasn't just interested in selling a less-than-pleasant picture of him to the tabloids, or getting a private tour of the castle. It felt refreshing, not to be treated as the "spare son." Being trapped in the elevator with her, although he was drunk out of his mind, was one of the most genuine interactions he'd had in months, especially since Serafina and his own brother were getting married. In a house of lies and a palace of scandals, it was like a breath of fresh air to meet someone who didn't give a damn. Antonio didn't find people like that daily, or even in years. The least he could do was to offer her a new pair of shoes. 

        He wondered where Laurel would be and when she would get there. 

     He also wondered how this might look like from the other side. Seeing a stranger just casually sitting on one of your dorm chairs, holding a box as a present. Somehow making it in to the room and somehow making the decision to remain in the room, awaiting for their return. 

        Oh, shit. 

    What was he thinking? Antonio was a freaking, full-on stalker.  

           In hindsight, Antonio might have just made the stupidest move. In hindsight, he could have just found her telephone number from a directory or something and called her first -- before just showing up inside her own dorm room. Maybe there were steps before just showing up randomly and unannounced; were there? He hadn't flirted or even had to try at it in ages. Girls came with the job title; there was no struggle, no gray area in being a single bachelor.