"We have art in order not to die from the truth."

There is a swelling storm
And I'm caught up in the middle of it all
And it takes control
Of the person that I thought I was
The boy I used to know 
- Dean Lewis.

PRINCE PARK JIMIN has been spotted with a woman, whom many suspect is his special lady friend, if you get our drift. The woman is a world renowned wedding planner. Until now, we aren't sure whether this meeting is business related or more personal, but going off of their intimate conversations caught by paparazzi, it seems to be the latter.

In the twenty-four years we've been graced with his presence, we have never seen the prince with a woman at a public event. Young Sykarians express their wonder and surprise through the number 1 trending hashtag, #princewithagirl. 

Stay tuned to the Sykarian Times for more updates on—

"Son, you know I don't usually read tabloids, but...What's going on?" King Changmin set his jewel-studded crown down on the table, worriedly questioning his son.

"Nothing, dad. I'm doing fine. Besides, you know the tabloids. Always looking for something to print," Jimin waved his hand nonchalantly, dismissing the matter. He knew what his father was talking about. Last night, he'd managed to break down in Ambrosia's arms, in plain view of the public, in a Crecida hotel balcony. This lead to a tsunami of articles about him and his "secret lover."

"I know it's Miss Kang. I trust you won't make a mess, for your brother's coronation is in December," the monarch warned, standing up to leave. He clutched his crown under his arm, turned around, and left.

Jimin put his head in his hands, begging for his pillow so he could scream into it. He needed to escape. Shooting Jeongguk a quick message informing him about his plan, he stormed out of his father's private chamber.

Barging out the building, he got in his car and whisked off. Solace, that's what he needed.

RED. Red was all he saw. The painting in front of him. The anguish behind his eyes.

He stared at his latest piece, a red number so badly battered by his knife, he was surprised how it still held up.

Ever since he returned from Crecida, his father had been passive-aggressively tormenting him with comments on protecting Kangmin's reputation. Kangmin didn't have a reputation. If he did, he certainly wouldn't be harassing every female employee of the Sykarian Royal palace. Besides, it wasn't Jimin's to protect.

The red painting in front of him gave him perspective. Flowing lines of black, crimson and gold helped him think. He was better off than those screaming red faces stuck spending eternity in one of his paintings, anyway.

The vault creaked open, the familiar sound of gears clicking together threw Jimin off.

"Jimin, you here?" A voice belonging to Ambrosia spoke, seemingly coming from the adjoining rooms.

"Yup," he replied, sliding down on the floor with his back on the wall.

"Hey," she called out, searching for him. Poking her head through the doorway of his favourite room, her eyes softened, "I read the news today morning and Jeongguk, uh, told me. You good?"

"Yeah," his eyes followed her as she stood over him, arms in the pockets of her baige button-up dress.

"Jimin, it's normal. People get depressed. There's no need to be ashamed of it," she put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the bone poke her.

His eyes tightly shut, fists balled. He wasn't depressed. He couldn't be, "I'm not...depressed, Ambrosia. I can't be."

But she insisted, "Fine. You're not depressed. Let's go with that," she shrugged, sitting on the floor beside a blue abstract piece. In the prince's typical style, it was monochromatic, faces emerging from pools of blue. Each carried expressions of agony, reminding Ambrosia of the stories her mother recited about lost spirits drowning in the Styx. She saw another knife slash down the side of the canvas, something she realised was a common feature of many of Jimin's pieces.

She pressed her lips together, unable to believe a word he said. Silence filled the space between them.

He tipped his head back on the wall, hoping she'd believed him. It was fruitless. He knew she didn't.

Clenching his jaw, he looked away. He couldn't hurt her. Knowing him, trusting him, loving him will hurt her. He couldn't afford to lose another person. She was beautiful, a soul who deserved to live a thousand years. She, of all people deserved life.

She put a hand on his, her patience visibly wearing thin, "You realise that your paintings say otherwise, don't you?"

His teeth clenched. No matter how kind she was to him, he had to drive her away, "And you realise that you have no right commenting on my paintings when you can't stand the sight of a paintbrush, don't you Ambrosia?"

His words stunned her to silence. She'd never seen him this angry before—not at her, at least. He looked guilty almost immediately, but she was too far gone. Her pride had taken a beating.

"You had no right," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"YOU HAD NO RIGHT!" She roared, clenching her jaw, "You have no idea where I've come from, Jimin. What I've been through. I come from dirt. Literal dirt. I can do whatever the fuck I want because I sucked it up and worked my ass off," she stood up, facing the victim of her verbal assault, "I brought myself here, unlike you. You don't even realise what you have. You need to suck it up and stop hurting the people who just want to help."

In a fit of rage, she stormed out the door. 

He drummed his fingers on the floor where Ambrosia was sitting moments ago. His...curse of hurting people was killing him. Even his studio wasn't able to cut it this time. He needed to speak with Taehyung.

"DOC, how's he doing?"

"The same as always, Prince Jimin," the worn out elderly gentleman said, tight lipped, "There's not much hope."

"Is he responding to external stimulus?" The silver haired man mumbled, finding it difficult to maintain his smile. He was grabbing at strings, begging for some breakthrough.

"I apologize, Prince Jimin. I really do," the elder looked down, "I hope you consider pulling the plug. It's the best way to get some closure."

The prince sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I understand, doc. I'll let you know when I'm ready."

"I'll give you some privacy. You know where the emergency button is, I hope."

Turning around following a polite nod, Jimin moped into the room, greeted with an all-too-familiar sight. Kim Taehyung, his best friend.

Eyes peacefully closed, hair neatly brushed. The twenty-four year old lay on the hospital bed, comfortably, as though he'd simply spent the night there, not the past six years. The prince settled down on the tiny chair beside the bed, taking Taehyung's hand in his. Ruffling his tawny hair, he tried his best to ignore the ligature marks on his neck, the soft scars a relentless reminder of what put him there in the first place.

It pained him, seeing his best friend devoid of life, of the laughter that made him smile on the daily. The warm undertone that his skin carried had been washed out, like sunlight and seawater bleaches rocks on the beaches that Taehyung loved to visit so much.

Tears began to fall from his eyes, the prospect of never seeing the brown haired man ever again weighing heavy on him. He knew it was unhealthy to mull over the comatose ghost of a loved one, but he couldn't let him go. He was all the royal had.

He recalled how beautiful his best friend was, how gentle and loving his soul was.

"Come on! A baby could've caught that," the twelve year old prince grinned, words jeering, yet tone comical.

"I would have, if your baby ass knew how to throw," replied his friend, narrowing his eyes.

"I wonder which baby wet his bed last night,"  the young royal looked up, scratching his chin.

"Alright, pouring your stupid little drops of water on my forehead when I'm sleeping relaxes my bladder, and YOU KNOW THAT!"  Came the angered response, the fellow twelve year old lunging at his friend, wrestling him to the ground.

Cries of, "Taehyung is a baby! Taehyung is a baby!"  echoed through the empty pavillion, as the two friends chased each other around the halls, nothing but bliss in their eyes.

Jimin remembered how happy they were, how easy it was for them to forget the world. It was just them and their love for mindless games. No responsibility, no expectations.

There was nothing that could go wrong. The sun never set in paradise, and yet, six years later, their world came crashing down.

And there was one root cause: Jimin.

He bit back tears, for he couldn't let his best friend hear him cry. Despite what others say, he believed the tawny-haired man could hear him. Jimin had to. He was the only one who'd listen.

"There's this girl, Tae," he mumbled, smiling through glassy eyes, "She's the prettiest I've ever met. And I know you'll tease me for that. But she is, you know? She's so sweet and kind, just like you. And God, I want to kiss her every time she tells me to shut up."

He laughed silently, eyes crinkling up. He could tell exactly what Taehyung would've been thinking, "And nope, I'm not kissing you if you tell me to shut up. Even if you beg," he chuckled, a sad smile forming on his lips.

"I don't want to hurt her," the prince's voice broke, "And I know I will. But I can't stay away either. You would have known what to do, Tae. I know you would. I—I miss you. They're telling me it's time, but I can't do it. I can't lose you."

"WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT—What are you doing?"

"Uh—"

"Is that...makeup?"

Eyeliners, eyeshadow, blush and a thousand brushes littered the bathroom sink, a highlighter compact in Jin's manicured hands. His eyes now even bigger and doll-like with brown eyeshadow and glitter. Cleverly placed eyeliner did wonders for those sparkly eyes. She caught sight of some Fenty lipgloss in his other hand, lips shiny and glittery.

"Yeah, but please don't tell anyone," he begged, perfectly manicured hands immediately dropping the gloss and highlighter, grabbing hers.

He awaited her response, expecting her to flip out and run away from him. He'd been subjected to oodles of hate and slander ever since he came out a few years ago. It was extremely difficult, even though Jimin fought by his side the whole time. Kangmin was disgusted. Beyond disgusted. He actually banned Jin from the palace, until Jimin convinced him otherwise in a violent

Makeup? That was surely going to cause a scandal. He didn't expect Ambrosia to sympathise with him. Or even understand.

Makeup allowed him to leave the "faggot" behind. He could change himself, become more beautiful and confident. He believed in himself. That little contour stick did wonders for his self esteem.

"Sure, sure," she shook her head, staring at his eyes. Her previous rage dissolved into pools of lipgloss, "You need to show me how you did that look. That liner is crazy."

He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. A smile grew on his lipsticked mouth.

"Oh my God, sure! Grab a brush," he grinned, teeth bared in relief,  "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Jimin, he's not...okay. I yelled at him because he—Not important. Anyways, there's something with hospitals and..." she started strong, ending with a confused murmur, "I don't know. What do I start with?"

"Primer. Always," Jin pointed a brush at a glass bottle, "The prince is not okay. He hasn't been for really long. Hospitals... Well, it's rough. I hope the yelling was a 'get it together' lecture. God knows he needs one of those."

"Uh, well, it kinda was. The Queen passed away giving birth to Jimin. Did it happen in a hospital?" The brunette asked, patting the clear gel into her face, "Foundation with a brush or a sponge?"

"It's called a beauty blender, sweetie. Just bounce it in. And Her Highness the Queen did pass during childbirth, but that was here. A medical team was brought to the palace but...well you know what happened."

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, unable to comprehend the pain of losing a mother. She loved hers. Losing her mom would kill her.

"The whole country mourned. She was an amazing woman. I was a kid at the time, but I remember how devastated the king was," the elder stated, directing her to apply concealer, "The Queen's death coupled with his best friend's suicide attempt made Jimin so...gloomy."

"Suicide attempt?"

"Mmhm. Hung himself from the ceiling fan. Nearly died," he opened an eyeshadow palette, handing it to her, "And nearly killed Jimin too."

"He's alive?"

"Yup. Taehyung is in a private hospital room, paid for by Jimin. He's been there since they were eighteen," his lips pressed tightly together as he showed Ambrosia how to powder her face, "I've never found out what happened, but it was horrific. Jimin didn't sleep for weeks."

Her eyes lowered, lips parted. As her mind swarmed with thoughts of Jimin's sorrows, her hand continued patting the powder puff on her cheek, concentrated at one spot.

He lost his mother. His best friend.

"There's no sides in this war."

"I killed his wife."

"I'm not sad."

"What do you even know about a mother's love?

He blamed himself. For accidents. Things that weren't in his control.

Now she was no doctor. But even an idiot could tell Jimin wasn't okay.

And she yelled at him.

"Sia, honey. You need to stop powdering your face. It's been ten minutes and your cheek is drier than the Sahara," Jin lowered her hand gently, blowing some of the powder off her cheek, "It's a lot to take in, I know. But you seem to make him happier. And you need to woman up and help him. For me."

"I will. I promise."

"I may not say it enough, but that boy is my responsibility. I'll fight to protect him, but now I don't even know what I'm fighting against."

Author's note.

Don't forget to vote and comment, everyone!

This chapter kind of clears up some major stuff in the story and cleans up a large part of the mess that's been going on in Jimin and Ambrosia's life. It's shorter than the others, but I didn't know what else to add.

I initially intended on having Taehyung dead, but I just couldn't do it. He's too sweet, you know?

So basically, Jimin has a guilty conscience. Being blamed for his mom's death, blaming himself for Taehyung's attempted suicide. Make of that what you want.

Theories!

Jin's doing makeup nowadays. How's that going to affect the story?

Should Jimin pull the plug? I mean it's been six years.

Why did Taehyung attempt suicide?

Should Jimin let Ambrosia into his life?

Ooh, I forgot about this: The Royal Patron bagged its 5th first place in the Amaranthine Awards hosted by lilsugarcubie and Coraline005.

That's the cover that they made for me as a prize. How's it? I'm planning on putting this instead because the current one doesn't suit the story.

So that's all, I hope you have an awesome day and stay safe. The covid situation here is getting worse, so I urge every Indian to stay indoors, even if you're not in a red zone. Forget just Indians, everyone stay indoors as much as possible.