Page 15 of Prince Material
“Is that what relationships are to you? Distractions?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Look, not everyone needs to date in college. Some of us have more important things to focus on.”
“Like saving the world through perfect engineering?” His tone was gentle, taking any sting out of the words. “You know, it’s possible to do both. To work toward your goals and still have a personal life.”
“Maybe for some people.” I started gathering my things, suddenly needing to escape this conversation. “But I can’t afford to lose focus. Not when…”
I stopped myself, but Floris leaned forward, his eyes intent on my face. “Not when what?”
“Nothing.” I shoved my laptop into my bag with more force than necessary. “Thanks for the help with the project plan.”
“Orson.” His hand caught my wrist, stopping my frantic packing. His touch was warm, sending an unexpected shiver up my arm.
“What?”
“If you googled me, you know I’m gay. Openly gay.”
What did that have to do with anything? “Yes.”
“All I’m saying is that you can talk to me. I’m a safe space.”
It took me a few seconds to work out what he meant. “I’m not in the closet. I mean, I’m gay, but I’m out. Well, to those that need to know, anyway, like my mom and my sister.”
His brows furrowed. “But you’re not out on campus?”
I shifted in my seat, avoiding his eyes. “It’s not a secret or something. I just don’t date. Or…” I swallowed, “…hook up.”
“Why not?” His voice was soft, understanding.
God, where did I even begin with explaining that? I started packing up again, needing to move, to do something with my hands. “I can’t…”
“Can’t what? Live?”
His words stopped me cold.
“Because that’s what you’re doing, you know. Not living. You’re merely existing.”
The truth in his words hit like a physical blow. “You don’t understand.”
“Don’t I?” Something flickered across his face—pain, maybe, or regret. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice? To feel like every decision could have catastrophic consequences?”
I stared at him, really seeing him, beyond the charming smile and easy grace. He was someone who understood more than I’d realized. A man who carried his own weight of expectations and fears. “That video,” I said slowly. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To escape?”
The grainy video had been easy to find once I’d googled him. Floris pressed against some guy outside a London club, their faces close. The headlines had screamed about assault, about the Dutch prince forcing himself on someone. But watching it, something hadn’t added up. The way the other guy’s hands hadgripped Floris’s shirt, pulling him closer rather than pushing away. How the clip cut off right as the other man leaned in. The editing had been deliberate, manipulative. And Floris’s silence afterward, refusing to defend himself despite the media frenzy, spoke volumes about his character.
Floris’s expression shuttered so fast, it was like watching a door slam. “That’s not—” He stopped, ran a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”
“Because you couldn’t defend yourself without outing someone else.” The words came out before I could stop them. When his head snapped up, I added quickly, “I did more research. Found some Dutch articles that seemed more balanced than the British tabloids.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers tracing patterns on the wooden table. “You know what the worst part was?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Everyone assumed I’d done something wrong. That I’d forced myself on him. And I couldn’t say anything without making it worse for him.”
The pain in his voice made my chest tight. “That must’ve been hard.”
“Yeah.” He gave a hollow laugh. “But hey, at least it taught me a valuable lesson about trust and public spaces.” His smile was bitter. “And about how quickly people will believe the worst of you.”
I knew something about that, about having people make assumptions, about carrying the weight of others’ expectations and judgments. Though in my case, it was more about living up to my father’s sacrifice, proving I was worth saving.
“Is that why you’re so careful here? Why you don’t want people to know who you are?”
