A.N

Finish other stories? Psh are you kidding!

Disclaimer: You know what it says

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Matt

"And we wish to congratulate Mail Jeevas for turning eighteen last week."

I glanced away from the heavily bearded man as he tipped his champagne flute in my direction, fiddling with the cuff of the starched-beyond-belief shirt that the maids at home had stuffed me into. I felt like a sausage about to explode from the skin every time I moved so much as a fraction of an inch, not that my parents cared. I had to look 'presentable' to their aristocratic friends and apparently jeans aren't the way to do that. Who knew?

I felt twenty pairs of eyes glue themselves to me as the each took a sip from their identical crystal glasses, speaking hurriedly from the corners of their mouths to the person next to them. Yes I get it, I am far from the ideal person my parents wanted me to be and I'll probably run the country into ruin. I am not meant to take the throne, can you seriously picture gangly me, arms and legs all over that posh gold and red seat? That's all it really is after all. A Goddamn chair. I would be perfectly happy in my beanbag chair with the xbox between my legs and big TV. That's it. If I actually saw my parents more than once every three months they would know to box me off to a small flat with my stuff, leave me there and adopt someone who is actually interested in ruling.

I prodded at the steak on my plate gingerly with the fork, toying with it for a moment before pushing the plate to the side. My fingers were itching for a cigarette or something to play but my parents insisted those 'technological devils' remain at home. Luckily for me we only had to stay for another hour before I was released back into freedom. I practically ran down to the awaiting car, murmuring a thanks to the man who opened the door for me, diving in head first and grabbing the DS that I had stashed under the seat. I flipped it open, loading it up as my parents climbed in, scowling.

"Mail! Could you put that infernal thing down for two seconds!" My mother scolded. I turned the volume down, but continued to play.

She sighed leaning back in her seat as the car started, rubbing the bridge of her nose, a strand of vibrant red hair falling from the complicated up do that had taken the stylist three hours to perfect. She brushed it behind her ear, finger resting on her pale cheek for a moment. "Mail." She repeated. "Your father and I agree that you are far too introverted. We agree that this may be our doing. I know we didn't let you socialise when you were young and still don't allow you out often for obvious reasons."

I rose an eyebrow. I didn't mind staying in. It was always warm, dry and chargers were within a two minute dash. People outside were brash, loud and shoved. Shoving means handheld consoles often ended up smashed or cracked on the pavement. And newspapers would have a field day with the title 'Prince punches inconsiderate jerkwad.' Okay…maybe not exactly that, but close enough.

"So along with your car for your birthday, we're allowing you to go out. Provided you take a bodyguard."

I bit back a whine. All our bodyguards were massive bald guys. I always stood out when I went out for ice cream or to GAME and the poor guy accompanying me always looked like a child molester. "But…" I murmured.

"I know. That's why we hired a new guard…I'm surprised he got through all the tests for someone so young, Lord knows most people fail on their first five attempts." She continued muttering to herself as the car ground to a halt and the door was opened for us once more. I climbed out, still playing the DS, letting my feet lead me to the door, however the instead of the normal five feet it took me to get from the car to the front door, I bumped into something hard. I stumbled backwards, dropping the DS as I did.

I looked up, seeing a boy around my age, choppy blonde hair fell to his shoulders and piercing blue eyes glared at me as I picked up my DS. "Don't you watch where you're going?" He snapped, placing his hand on his hip. His body was covered in shiny leather but what caught my eye the most was the large scar that covered the left side of his face. It ran down his neck and disappeared under his shirt.

"Not today apparently." I replied cheekily, hauling myself to my feet, dusting the restricting suit down.

My mother walked past me (Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking!) and over to the boy. "I'm glad you accepted our offer."

"Not a problem." He replied, his voice far less scathing than it had been when he spoke to me.

"This is my son. He'll be your responsibility." She told him, gesturing to me. I stood there like a lemon, completely bewildered as they continued talking for a few more moments before my mother walked inside.

I stared at the blonde boy a little while longer. "What."

"…What are you employed for exactly?"

"Something about poor little Prince not wanting to stand out when he ventures outside the palace."

I flushed a heavy shade of crimson. "So you're the new guy?"

"Mello. Not new guy." He retorted.

"Matt." I replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows your name is Mail."

"Matt." I said again more firmly.

He shook his head, walking back inside while I stared at his back. The sudden itch in my neck reminded me that I wanted to take the damn suit off, so I followed him inside, shutting the heavy door behind myself.