Kyong had heard Louella knocking on his door and had ignored her. He had heard her come to the other entrance that was connected to the house, not his room, and talk to Courtier. He had heard her disappointment when she was turned down time after time, being told that he was busy with homework or out of the house. She didn’t buy it. Kyong was busy trying to pack all of his favourite clothes into a duffle bag. His phone buzzed on his bed and he picked it up. It was Louella, “Where are you? Why won’t they let me see you?”

He sighed and quickly typed back “I’m busy with homework, sorry.” before throwing his phone back onto his bed and calling out “Courtier, why can’t I can't take more than a duffle bag of clothes?”

Courtier walked into his room like he had been right there waiting, “Because your father wants to teach you a lesson. You’re going to live like a normal American kid - poor and unprivileged. Well, within reason. You will be provided with a furnished apartment, food and a car, but nothing spectacular outside of that.”

Kyong rolled his eyes, groaning. His phone buzzed again and he picked it up, scanning the screen. Louella: “Hello?  Is this actually Kyong? Homework? What is that?”

Courtier spoke as Kyong’s fingers lingered, not yet touching the keypad. “You should really see her before you go,” he said gently.

“Why? So I can ruin her life some more? She’s lucky her life is still untouched after everything she’s helped me with.”

“Perhaps no one knows she helped you…” Courtier offered.

“And I would like to keep it that way. I just want to keep my head down in America and get this time over with.”

Courtier furrowed his brows, “You have wanted to go to the USA for as long as I can remember…”

Kyong turned his head to face him, “Yes. With money and privilege and not stuck in some poor school with lower class scrum.”

“A public school?” Courtier looked amused and frankly, a little judgmental of Kyong’s judgement.

“Yes. I've grown up in top-tier private schools. How am I going to survive being attacked on a daily basis by poor teenagers?” Kyong groaned, “Why would my father put me in the lowest form of schooling? I know he wants to punish me but…”

“You are going to a standard school in LA. Everyone goes to these schools.” Courtier interrupted, eyebrows raised. 

“Everyone knows me. It will look ridiculous for me to be there. It will look like charity.” His nose was scrunched at the thought.

“I think you will be surprised.” Courtier tried to keep a straight face but was struggling not to smile at Kyong’s little knowledge of the world outside of Korea, and that he hadn’t even considered that people outside of Korea may not even know who he is…” 

The day had come. Kyong was packed up and ready to go. All he had on him was a duffel bag and his phone. It felt unnatural and unnerving. He hoped he would at least be able to buy stuff when he was in America; but he had asked Courtier too many times and was told, “Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.” so he let it go and figured he would suss it out once he got there. Surely he didn’t mean nothing. Courtier unlocked the car. There was a beep and then the trump popped open. His father had left a note - too busy with work to say goodbye to his son, whom he wouldn’t see for the next few months. And his brother had left nothing. No note, no goodbye. Kyong threw his bag into the back and Courtier glared at him. Kyong shrugged in response, “I’m not in the mood to place my bag in carefully.” 

“Get in.” Courtier said, not bothering to open the door for him. 

Kyong slumped in the back seat, letting his head roll against the fabric. He really took in the smells and all of the little details, like the light switch above his head. Had he ever noticed it before? He flicked the switch, and Courtier eyed him suspiciously in the rearview mirror. “I’m just taking notice of my surroundings before they are all ripped away from me and I become a peasant.” He narrowed his eyes at Courtier, as if it were his fault that all of this was happening. 

“You will be fine. Just keep your head down, work hard and you will be back home before you know it.”

Kyong decided to change the topic, “How long is the flight?” he asked absentmindedly, while also looking it up on his phone. Hadn’t thought about checking or asking until now. They were an hour from the airport and the flight was… his eyes widened… “twenty two hours?” his mouth gaped open. “What… what will I do on this long flight?”, he shook his head, “How will I sleep on a plane?” 

“Maybe you won’t…” Courtier replied, blankly. It seemed like he was deep in thought and not really paying much attention to what Kyong was saying.

“What will I do then?” Kyong glared at the back of his head.

Courtier focused his eyes on the mirror, tightening his hands on the wheel, “You have flown before, watch a movie.” 

“What’s wrong?” Kyong asked, against his better judgement. He never asked other people how they were feeling. It wasn’t that he was selfish - well he was a little selfish- but he hated talking about feelings. It brought up things that he didn’t want to deal with. This was rare and he regretted it the moment he asked, but it was too late. The words were out. 

Courtier tensed and his hands gripped even further around the wheel. His breath was raspy and made Kyong tense, all the way in the back seat. “Your father. It just gets to me that he’s sending you overseas.” he paused. “The whole Korean culture of families sending their children alone overseas just gets me.” his voice was laced with sadness and anger - something that Kyong hadn’t seen in him since he was a child and his mother had died. Courtier was Kyong’s only saviour in those times.

The car stopped and Courtier turned the key in the ignition, halting the engine from running. Kyong looked out the window. Crowds of people flooded the airport carpark and he started to feel the pressure of what he was about to embark on. “Are you ready?” Courtier turned to Kyong with pleading eyes. It was as if he was pleading with Kyong to be ready. To be okay. 

Kyong’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer right away. He was fighting back tears. He never let anyone see his tears, but he might make an exception for Courtier. He sighed and decided against it, but it was too late. One single tear trickled out and down his cheek. He quickly swiped it away with the back of his hand. Courtier sighed, “It will be okay. You will have a comfortable living arrangment and once you finish your schooling, you will be able to come straight home.”

Kyong looked at him, biting his cheek, “I know and I actually want to experience LA. I am excited to see it and experience the culture, but under these circumstances, it just feels…”

“Wrong?” Courtier offered.

“Yeah.” Kyong looked out the window.

“I will stay until you get settled, however long that might be.” 

“Thanks. I appreciate you.” The words just slipped out, and Kyong’s eyes widened instantly at the realisation that he had said them. He never let complements out, even though he sometimes thought them. Courtier knew this, so he said nothing, he just let a small smile work up his cheek as he asked again, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Kyong said quietly, pulling on the door handle. 

“Let me.” Courtier hastily hopped out of the car to open Kyong’s door for him.

“Who will take the car?” Kyong asked, suddenly interested in the little menial tasks such as this. He never noticed of cared about the royal duties that the staff undertook, but now that he was about to be so far from the royals, such small tasks, seemed highly important for him to remember. 

Courtier gave him a strange and unexpected look, “We pay a parking fee to keep it here.”

“For how long?” Kyong asked too quickly.

“Uh, a week. But if I stay longer, we can always extend it.” He said slowly, watching Kyong.

“Agh.” Kyong nodded, “Okay. Let’s go now. Im ready.”

They made their way to the airport building from the carpark, luggage in hand. At first they were alone, apart from a few sporadically placed people around the airport carpark, fussing with their luggage and picking people up. Quickly, they were spotted, and they both knew what they were in for. “Runaway prince heads out the country after rondevu with teacher”, the news article would read.

Courtier hit Kyong across the back forcing the deep breath he was holding to come from his parted lips, “You can do this.” He said strongly, under his breath and swarms of people came toward them just as they made it to their gate. Courtier had taken the liberty of skipping the line and checking in early for this exact scenario. 

“Kim, Kyong!” girls yelled, and so did men and women. Men and women old enough to be their parents. They were their parents. They were the same age as… he breathed. Veronika.

He smiled but kept his head down, trying to make it straight to the plane. “Why are you running away?” a man called out, “You can do whatever you want, right? You’re a prince…” This got Kyong’s attention. He turned to see who had said it, but when he saw the camera, he ducked his head down again and paced as quickly as he could, without running through the crowd - Courtier at his side. They made it into the plane and a familiar wash of silence surrounded them. They both breathed deeply. 

“Once you’re in the US, you shouldn’t have to deal with much of this.” Courtier broke the silence first, and Kyong slumped into the soft leather chair of his fathers private plane. It wasn’t that he wasn’t familiar with this plane, he would play around in it as a child and pretend he was a pilate- but he had never the opportunity to use it since his mother had died, when it all went down for Kyong. 

“How’s that?” he inched his way further into the seat. The plane was kept at the airport so others could use it when they werent, rather than keeping it at the house.

Courtier gave him that wary look again. He was becoming all too familiar with that look over the last few days. 

“Well… People won’t know you there, like they know you here. That’s why we are sending you there, so that you can focus on your studies without too much interruption.”

Kyong’s eyes narrowed as he thought about this. No one would really know him. He hadn’t counted on this. Maybe he would be able to explore afterwoulds. Maybe he would be able to experience life as a normal kid instead of a prince. Maybe this was something he could live with. What if he enjoyed it too much? The thought protruded his mind like a sharp thorn, trying to rip apart the idea of his future. 

“What if I enjoy it too much?” the spoke the last part. He wanted to know Courtier’s opinion. 

“Then time will go fast for you.” He smiled. He wasn’t getting was Kyong meant.

“No. What if I don’t want to come back to being a prince.”

“I’m afraid that’s not an option. It’s in your future.”

Kyong frowned. “But father always dangles the title around like he can snatch it away at any moment, depending on my behaviour that day.”

Courtier smiled, like he was pondering some fond memory and then the lined between his eyes deepened, “Kyong. That is your fathers way of trying to get you to see how important the throne is and for you to want the title. But it was always in the cards for you and you only. The only way that someone else will get it… Hyeong will get it, is if you… died.” He almost choked on the last word.

Kyong sunk further into his chair as the reality of the cage he was in sunk as walls closed in around him and locked with a key that simply fell away and out of his reach. 

He closed his eyes and groaned melodramatically as the captain announced it was time for take off.