Hot girls, dancing bodies and alcohol also known as my definition of a Friday night. There was cameras clicking somewhere in the background, but I didn't pay attention. I never did. I honestly didn't know why they bothered, I wasn't the heir just the one who always came in second place, but as I quickly drank another shot I flashed them a quick wink before making my over to bar. That should keep them entertained for a while, it always did before.

I always liked coming here, much to my parents disapproval, but when where they ever impressed? Let's be honest here. Hardly anyone registered the fact a prince was here seeing as they were to drunk to even remember their own names. No one knew who the hell I was, and I was okay with that. There was a problem though, the press never liked to leave me alone. They labelled me as the playboy, the one who doesn't care. I do care, they just don't see it that way.

I sighed as Astrid—or was it Alannah?—made her way over to the bar and giggled while asking for a drink. Her dark hair that had delicate curls a couple of hours ago had disappeared and in its place was messy locks that had a slight wave to it, messed up by yours truly. Her blue eyes traveled around his body, if she hadn't spent the last half an hour making out with me, and she gave him a seductive look as he handed her her drink.

"Aliyah," I greeted, my words slurred together, as I stumbled forward. I was going to wake up with a huge hangover tomorrow. They almost made me not want to drink, but instead I ignored the feeling and took a large gulp of my drink, the burning sensation travelling down my throat, making me gag a little. It was honestly so disgusting, but it made me feel a whole lot better.

She turned to me, her blue orbs meeting my dark brown ones. "My name is Brooklyn," her voice was sharp and I winced as the sound reached my ears. At the back of my mind I registered how I wasn't even close at getting her name right, and also her lethal glare, but that isn't important at the moment.

"You should know by now," at my lack of response she sighed before continuing, "I'm one of Royal Advisors daughter, remember?"

Something in my head clicked as an image of her walking confidently down the halls of the palace entered my mind. I nodded at her, distractedly as I got an text. While the text was helpful and was getting me out of a conversation with the she-devil, I frowned as I saw a text from my ever-so amazing brother.

JAMES: Matt, where are you? Mom and Dad are fuming.

I rolled my eyes, when weren't they?

MATTHEW: Relax, I'm at Evelyn's place.

JAMES: Stop lying, Evelyn is here with me.

Evelyn, or Evelina as her mother insisted we call her, was my best friend. We'd met when her father, who was the Prime Minister of Kent, came to the palace for a meeting and she had come along. She didn't squeal when she saw me and when I flirted with her she told me off. I mean, why wouldn't I have flirted? Her chestnut brown hair flowed to her waist and was paired with green eyes. I liked that she told me off and we became friends. We were complete opposites, but that's what made our friendship work.

When a new Prime Minister was elected, Evelyn and her family moved to Angeles. It was hard to get them to agree, but they did eventually. They had a house near the palace and Evelyn usually stayed over on some nights, her suite near my sisters. My parents liked our friendship, they said she was a good influence on me.

I looked back over to my phone as it chimed again.

JAMES: You're at that club, aren't you? Stay there. Someone's coming to get you.

Yeah, whatever.


Someone came. I was really drunk by then and I can't even remember what I was doing or what was running through my head at that moment, but what I do know is that I looked like a fucking idiot. A huge, fucking idiot.

My mother sighed as she clicked of the TV from the remote, shutting off the video of me drunk off my arse. My father, who was on the other side of the room, stopped his annoying pacing before giving me a look full of disappointment. Whatever, that wasn't going to work on me.

Running a hand through her ash blonde hair, that me and sister had inherited, my mother made her way towards me.

"Matthew, you can't do this. You're the Prince, not some random boy."

Dad then chimed in, coming closer to us. "We have a reputation to withstand. You can't go on like this."

I sat there, silently. I honestly didn't want to be seen as the player, but I didnt want to be forgotten. I wanted to be someone, anyone. Contrary to belief, I wasn't always like this, but then it happened. I hated myself for that. I still remember the screeching of the tires, the terrifying screams, the ambulance sirens. It was the scariest thing I had been through.

Mum stepped towards me, I could see the hesitancy in her eyes. She was going to say or do something I wasn't going to like, I just knew it.

"Matt, we've decided that, for yours and our sake, you'll be holding a Selection."

A Selection. A Selection.

"Why?" I protested, "I'm not the Crown Prince, James is, and he's already got a wife."

"We know that, we just think it's the best thing for you right now. You need to let go." Dad spoke before taking Mum's arm as they made their way out.

Let go, let go. They want me to let go! I can't just let go, it's too hard.


I stared up at my ceiling, I was going to have a Selection. Evelyn, bless her kind soul, was sitting in the corner of my room, observing me. I'm pretty sure she was debating on whether she should ask what's wrong.

"They want me to hold a Selection, they're probably planning it as we speak." I spoke, answering the question lingering in the air.

I turned to face her as she came closer. "Was there something else?" She asked, fiddling with her necklace which was a habit of hers.

I sighed, why was I being so weak? "They said that I should let go."

Evelyn looked at me, her eyes showing pity. I didn't want pity, I didn't want all of this.

"I don't thin-" I cut myself off, I had to stay strong. I couldn't spend another night thinking about what could have happened, nothing would change. The guilt wouldn't go, no matter what I tried to convince myself.

Evelyn embraced me in a hug. Normally she wasn't like this, but I knew she could tell how much those two words had hurt me.

I had to go through with the Selection, I had to change. Whether I wanted to or not was still questionable.