Chapter Text
Grian trudged into the elevator with a scowl, smashing the 'close door' button until it finally slid shut. It had been a long day, and he had been so excited to head home for the day just a few minutes early when he had gotten the message from his boss. His coworker had come down with a cold and could no longer make it to this urgent interview. Grian didn't understand why they couldn't just reschedule, which he had suggested, but to no avail.
He skimmed through the questions given to him on the ride up the elevator, noting with a flicker of surprise the royal insignia on several of the documents tucked in the folder. With a sigh, he realized that this was an interview with none other than the Prince. Grian absolutely could not deal with a pompous prince right now. His head ached from staying up late one too many nights in a row, and he could hardly focus on anything, much less remember all the protocols for dealing with high-profile guests. At least it explained why the interview couldn't be rescheduled: the oh-so-busy schedule of a royal.
It wasn't that Grian had something specific against the Hermitopia monarchy. He was proud to be a citizen and appreciated the history of the country. He just had a long line of bad experiences dealing with anyone rich or important, and Prince Scar was both. Well, that and he now had to deal with diplomacy instead of sleeping the rest of the day away.
Beyond the fact that it was with the prince, it was a relatively ordinary interview about some project the royal family was working on to open several new soup kitchens across the city, which may be out of kindness or, as Grian suspects from his past interactions, a petty way to appeal to the people. Sighing, Grian closed the folder as the elevator dinged and the door slid open.
He stepped into the hallway and strode slowly towards the room a few doors down the hall. It was closed, and he knocked before twisting the handle and pushing it open. The conference room was small, but nice enough, with plush seats that Grian hoped didn't put him to sleep. They had once before, but thankfully not in the middle of an interview.
There were two people in the room, a young woman with bright red hair and a serious expression, brows furrowed, as she typed furiously on a laptop. She looked rather no-nonsense, which Grian was grateful for since that typically meant he would be able to skip the small talk and chivalry, skipping straight from the formalities to business.
Besides her was a man who had to be the prince, although he would never have guessed he was a royal from his position, sprawled across the tabletop, expensive-looking leather boots dangling over the edge, eyes closed, and a blissful smile on his face.
"Gem, would it be a bad idea to create a national holiday dedicated to Jellie?" he spoke quickly, eyes still closed but his expression turned serious as he pondered the idea.
Gem looked up from the laptop to look with disbelief at the prince. She jumped as she noticed Grian standing in the doorway and she cleared her throat.
"Scar," she murmured under her breath, and the man on the table shot up, spinning around until he faced Grian, an apologetic smile spreading on his face. Before he could say anything, Grian bowed his head.
"Your Highness." He looked up after a moment to see the prince grinning at him. Feeling self-conscious, he stepped into the room and towards the chair opposite the prince. He didn't sit, of course.
"Oh, please. Just call me Scar." The prince waved his hand dismissively and received a glare from the redhead, who must be Gem. "You're not Xisuma?"
"Oh, he's unfortunately home sick, your highness. I'm filling in for him. I'm Grian." Finally, the prince sat in his chair, and Grian followed suit, reaching into his pocket to pull out a recorder. "You don't mind if I record, do you? It's good practice."
The prince shook his head, yet another unsettling grin on his face as he watched Grian carefully. Grian had never been a huge fan of attention, especially not from anyone like a prince. Grian cleared his throat awkwardly.
"So, your family has been working towards opening three new soup kitchens throughout the city to help support the homeless in New Boatem City. Can you tell me more about that?" Grian read off the paper in front of him, occasionally asking follow-up questions or for clarification. He was going mainly on autopilot, maybe too eager to get through the list of questions, but he was nothing if not professional. He knew X needed a strong interview, and he would get him plenty of information for whatever article he was working on.
Finally, after what felt like hours but a quick glance at his watch told him was only half an hour, he reached the end of his list of questions. With a nod, Grian slipped the papers back into the folder and placed it on the table.
"Well, I believe we're done. Is there anything else that you want to add?" Grian asked, waiting to pause the recorder until after the prince's final remark.
"No. I just am so grateful to be able to give back to my country for all the love that they have given me. I can't wait to see what else we can do to help!" Scar exclaimed, and it felt so rehearsed and too energetic to be genuine. Internally, he rolled his eyes as he stopped the recording.
"Well, thank you for taking the time to talk to us about it." Grian pushed his chair back, resisting the strong urge to stretch his arms over his head, feeling like it would be inappropriate. "I don't know when Xisuma will be back to work, but you should be seeing the article in the next week."
The prince nodded as he stood, a mischievous glint in his eye that made a spike of nervousness shoot through Grian. He turned to Gem, who had been sitting patiently throughout the interview, and gestured her closer. He whispered something loudly in her ear, but Grian couldn't catch what he said. Whatever it was, it was something Gem didn't approve of, because she instantly backed up with a hesitant look on her face.
"Absolutely not!" She pointed a scolding finger at Scar's chest, a small frown on her face as her eyes met Prince Scar's pleading face. Grian's gaze flickered between the two, a silent but unreadable conversation occurring quickly.
"Please, Gem," Scar murmured, a soft quietness that Grian hadn't seen from the prince yet, and with a loud sigh, Gem nodded slowly.
"Alright, fine. But just this once, because-" she glanced at Grian, who stood impatiently off to the side, and her face softened before she looked back to the prince. "You deserve this. Even if I think it's a bad idea."
Gem yelped as the prince pulled her in a spin, joy etched on his face once again.
"Oh, thank you! You're the best! Have I told you how you are just the best?"
"Alright, Scar. Let's get going before Grian here falls asleep on his feet."
At the sound of his name, Grian snapped to attention, realizing suddenly that his thoughts were starting to drift away from the present, particularly to a hot cup of chamomile and his pillow. Shooting a grateful look to Gem, Grian reached for the door, but the prince reached it first, pulling it open and gesturing through.
"After you!" He said with a cheerful smile. Grian's tired brain cells panicked at the dilemma he suddenly found himself in. It was horrible etiquette to go before the prince, but what if the prince offered?
"What? No! You- I- What? But you're the prince! You're supposed to go first!" Gem quickly walked through, rolling her eyes at what must be familiar antics.
"Well, seeing as I am the prince, I would like you to go first." Grian crossed his arms stubbornly.
"That would be incredibly improper," he replied, exhausted frustration bubbling up in his chest. As much as he would just love to spend more time here, playing cat and mouse games with the overenthusiastic prince, he had two cats and a bed waiting for him.
"What is more improper? Walking through first or disobeying an order from the prince?" Ultimatum posed, Grian glared at the confident smirk on the Scar's face.
"Fine." Grian turned on his heel and passed through the door, meeting Gem by the elevator as the Prince trailed behind him. Although Grian couldn't see his face, he could just picture the picture of smugness he knew was waltzing towards him. He turned towards Gem deliberately, ignoring the Prince behind him, briefly wondering if that too was improper but he found he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.
The elevator door slid open with a ding, and Grian went to step in but Gem stopped him with a hand.
"Wait here. Take the next elevator down. I have to make sure it's clear for the prince." She smiled at Scar, although there was a distinctive lack of light in her eyes that made it seem more of a warning than anything.
"Alrighty, then," Grian mumbled, leaning back on his heels and shoving his hands into his pockets. As soon as the elevator started whirring, Grian pressed the down button again, staring at the number above the door as it changed.
"So, Grian. What do you do here at this lovely newspaper?" Grian glanced at the man next to him, still in disbelief that this guy was actually the prince of Hermitopia.
"I'm a journalist." He kept his response short and simple, not disrespectful, but certainly not inviting further conversation. The prince, apparently, did not need an invitation.
"That's so exciting. Sometimes I wonder what I would be if I wasn't a prince. I never really thought too much about it since there was never any question." Grian glanced curiously at him, considering briefly that maybe there was more to this strange man until the prince shattered that image instantly with his next words. "Of course, being a prince is pretty great. I just love-" The elevator door interrupted, and Grian gratefully stepped in, mashing the lobby button with a little too much force.
"Hey, I don't recall the elevator doing anything to you!" The prince chuckled at Grian, who huffed and crossed his arms. There was blissful silence for a moment, and Grian felt his shoulders relaxing. He briefly wondered how long they'd been tense, but the feeling of eyes on him distracted him. He looked up and saw that, sure enough, the prince was staring at him again. He looked away, desperate for this weird interaction to end.
Two things happened simultaneously. First, the prince broke the silence.
"Grian, I-" he began, an eerie seriousness to his tone.
Second, the screeching sound of metal against metal echoed through the elevator, which began shaking violently. The lights flickered off, and Grian clutched the bar, pressing his back against the wall. After a heart-wrenching moment, the noise eased and the elevator stopped moving completely, leaving Grian and the prince standing in the dark.
Eyes wide, Grian frantically ran towards the panel of buttons. He pressed the lobby button again, but nothing happened. He smashed each floor, glancing at the door hopefully, but as each attempt was met with nothingness, he grew desperate. He mashed on the door open button, the door close button, both at the same time, the fire rescue button, but nothing happened.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Grian wailed, sinking to the floor, his head in his hands. He couldn't believe his luck. He just wanted to go home. Now, he was trapped in an elevator, and the thought brought a tightness to his chest. He slid down the wall into a seat, hugging his knees.
"No," he whispered dejectedly, heart racing and breaths coming in fast. He squeezed his eyes shut despite the darkness already present and pressed his head into the wall behind him. He couldn't do this now.
Someone put a warm hand on his knee, and he remembered that he wasn't alone. Through the dark, he made out the prince’s concerned face gazing at him and he took a deep breath. He may be at the breaking point, but he sure wasn’t going to embarrass himself in front of royalty. Although his hands were still shaking slightly, he stood up abruptly.
“What?” He snapped at the prince, who took a few steps back.
“Are you okay?” He asked in return, and Grian barked out a laugh.
"Am I okay? I'm trapped in an elevator!"
"Well, if it makes you feel better, someone should rescue us quickly. I am the prince, after all," the prince replied nonchalantly, and Grian refrained from rolling his eyes. Even when he was trying to be nice, he was still a pompous ass. He swatted the prince away before crossing his arms and turning his back towards him.
"Please, just leave me alone." Grian sighed after a long moment of feeling the prince's eyes burning into the back of his head. He sat back down to wait, hopefully not for long.
Across the elevator, Prince Scar paced back and forth across the small space, his long legs covering almost the whole span in one stride. Grian didn't think he was capable of standing still for more than two seconds. Grian opened and closed every mobile game he had downloaded, none of them interesting him in the slightest. He sighed and put his phone away, plunging the elevator back into darkness.
"Hey, Grian?" the prince's voice broke the silence after a few minutes.
"What do you want?" Grian asked impatiently, trying to find the prince's face in the darkness.
"Truth or dare?" The question is so random that for a moment, Grian thinks he's misheard.
"What?"
"Truth or dare? If we're going to be stuck here, we may as well entertain ourselves!" His voice was light but Grian could hear a tension that hadn't been present before. He realized that while the prince may seem sickeningly happy-go-lucky, he was no happier to be here than Grian. With a long sigh, he begrudgingly agreed.
"Fine. Dare." Grian figured there wasn't too much he could do in an elevator anyway.
"Ooh. Let's see! How about-" The prince was quiet for a moment as he thought of what hopefully wasn't an embarrassing dare. If it was, Grian was not above quitting the game. "I know! I dare you to do a silly dance!"
"Really? What are you, twelve?" Grian muttered but stood. He wasn't a dancer, and it's not like the prince could see in the dark anyway, so Grian wiggled his arms around a bit before smiling sarcastically through the dark. "There. Silly dance- done."
"Well? Aren't you going to ask me one?" The prince asked after a moment.
"Nope." Grian replied, popping the 'p'.
"But- but you have to ask me one!"
"Is that an order, your highness?" Grian snarked, eyebrows raised.
"What? No! But I want you to!"
"And I want to be in bed, but we don't always get what we want, do we? Although, you might not know that, being a rich prince and all." Even as he said it, Grian felt a little bad, even if it was true. Sure, Prince Scar may be cocky and ignorant, but he'd never been outright rude. Grian shook his head, pushing the guilty feeling down. The prince was silent after that, or at least for the brief moment until the lights abruptly came back on and the door slid open with an all too happy chime.
Immediately, an anxious-looking Gem swarmed in, asking a question a second.
"Are you alright? What happened? Why didn't you answer the phone? Is-" Grian stepped out around her, glad to feel the firm, non-elevator ground beneath his feet, when the prince interrupted the onslaught of questions.
"Grian, wait!" Grian paused, disappointment at his inability to make a quick escape rising in his chest. He spun around on his heel.
"Yes?"
"I just want to say thanks for the interview and for, you know, entertaining me, and-" He paused when Grian shook his head, looking down.
"Goodbye, Your Highness." Grian turned around and finally, finally , walked out of the office, to the prince's too-eager goodbyes bouncing around through his exhausted brain.