The storm has passed and the sky is cloudless and clear. As a weary Remy exits the shelter, the fresh air hits his nostrils and he draws it in like a sweet memory.

He exhales, renewed and happy to be back in his brave new world. Forgetting himself, he trots for the kitchen entrance
on two legs, throwing a reckless wave at a passing cyclist.

The cyclist double-takes, craning his neck to look at the bizarre sight -- and collides with a parked car.

Remy enters and looks around. No one has arrived yet. Remy steps on to the counter top and surveys the kitchen, savoring the day ahead. And then he hears the sound. Snoring.

He takes cover and peers out. No one is there, but the Snoring persists. He peers cautiously over the edge -- as Remy walks forward, revealing Roman -- curled up on the floor and slumbering like a vagrant. Remy looks at the clock, realizing with horror that the others are about to arrive.

Remy jumps onto Roman’s head like a rough rider on a fallen horse and -- expertly tugging hanks of Roman’s hair, manages to get the boy up on his feet.

But Roman remains fast asleep.

Remy lifts one of Roman’s heavy eyelids and waves frantically at a staring eye -- but Roman is out cold. The sound of a motorcycle arriving at the rear entrance causes Remy to looks around in desperation.

He spies a pair of his sunglasses near the lockers. Virgil enters, unpleasantly surprised to find Roman already at there. He crosses to the counter and starts making breakfast.

Remy hids Roman’s shut eyes behind sunglasses, unintentionally giving him the air of a smug rock star. Though Roman remains fast asleep, Remy pulls his hair to keep the boy’s limbs working somewhat convincingly.

"Good morning, Roman..."

Remy pulls the prince's hair, nervously puppeting the sleeping Roman. How is he supposed make Roman answer? He pulls a side hair hank -- causing Roman’s head to roll to Virgil, give him a lazy nod, then turn back to his own food.

"So. Deciet. He invited you in for a drink? That’s big... that’s big. What did he say?"

Remy hesitates. There’s no hair he can pull for speech! Desperate, he pulls the head-turn hair again.

Roman’s head lolls lazily back to Virgil, the effect being a smug 'What do you think he said, babe?'

"What-- you can’t tell me?" Virgil frowns at Roman.

Roman is silent. He resumes cutting. Virgil goes cold.

"Oh. Forgive me for intruding on your deep, personal relationship with the pathological liar. I see how it is. You get me to teach you a few fighting tricks to dazzle the snake, and then you blow past me?"

Things are going south fast. Remy keeps Roman chopping, hoping desperately for an idea to salvage the situation.

"Ca’mon. Wake up... wake up--!" Remy tugs on Roman's hair, desperately.

Roman keeps chopping vegetables like a zombie. His smirking face rolls in Virgil’s direction.

"I thought you were different" He sounds hurt "I thought you thought I was different. I thought--"

Now, seemingly looking straight at Virgil, Roman snores.

Virgil gasps and delivers a roundhouse slaps to Roman’s face. Roman corkscrews and crashes to the floor.

Roman -- now completely awake and utterly confused at the crucial chunk of his life he’s somehow missed -- looks up at the furious Virgil with wide eyes.

"I didn’t have to help you. If I looked out only for myself, I could have let you drown. But I wanted you to succeed. I liked you. My mistake."

Virgil turns, storming out the kitchen’s back door, Roman turns to Remy.

"It’s over, Little Prince. I can’t do it any more..."

He grabs the crown with Remy inside and runs after Virgil. Virgil is already on his motorcycle. Roman runs to him.

"Stop--! Don’t motorcycle away-- "

Virgil stops and looks at him.

"Look. I’m no good with words. I’m
no good with fighting, either. At least
not without your help."

"Oh God, I hate false modesty"

Virgil mumbled under his breath.

"It’s just another way to lie. You have talent-"

"But I don’t! Really! It’s not me!"

Under Roman's crown, Remy eyes widen. This can’t be happening.

"And when I added those extra moves instead of following the technique like you said-- that wasn’t me either!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I wouldn’t have done that. I would’ve followed the technique, I would’ve followed your advice. I would’ve followed your advice to the ends of the earth because I love--"

Roman quickly 'corrected' himself

"Your advice."

"But... ?"

"But... I have a secret."

Remy’s really getting worried now.

"Don’t do it..." Remy softly whispered.

Virgil’s eyes narrow. He’s not liking the sound of this.

"It’s sort of disturbing..."

Roman chuckles sheepishly, then straightens as if to make an announcement, taking a deep breath.

"I have a gg... aah--uht..."

"What...?"

"I have a gahh... tsh-"

"You have a gash?"

"NO! No... I have this tiny... a little, uh... little... a--" Roman quickly blurts it out " -little prince who tells me what to do."

"A little prince..."

Virgil bites his lip as if trying to fathom what he was just told.

"That tells you what to do..."

"Yes... yes, he’s... uh, uhhhmmn..."

Roman points to his crown.

"...He’s up here--"

"In your brain?"

"Uggghhh... Why is it so hard to talk to you all of a sudden?"

He starts gathering courage.

"Okay. Here we go. You-- inspire me."

Virgil raised his eyebrows.

"I’m going to risk it all. I’m going to risk looking like the biggest idiot psycho you’ve ever seen."

Virgil started to get scared. His hand drops discreetly into his pocket and emerges clutching a tiny cannister of pepper spray. Roman continues, impassioned.

"You wanna know why I’m such a fast
learner? Why I’m so good at hand to hand combat? Don’t laugh! I’m going to show you--"

Virgil looks worried. With great resolve and trembling hands, Roman slowly reaches up to remove his crown--

Through the gold material of Roman's crown, Remy watches as Roman is about to expose him and ruin it all! He yanks on Roman’s hair, thrusting Roman forward toward Virgil’s face--

Roman plants a big kiss on Virgil’s lips. Virgil is frozen, pepper spray in hand, his face filled shock and surprise surpassed only by Roman’s own.

With furrowed brows and gritted teeth, Remy maintains Roman’s forward thrust kiss. This could go either way.

As they continue their startled kiss, their eyes flash through a myriad of emotions; surprise, fear, anger, vulnerability, happiness, and finally-- surrender. Their arms wrap around each other.

Remy sighs with relief. For the moment anyway, the fragile charade survives.