Natalya trudged back to her suite, evidently weary from chasing her brother and yelling at him for his imprudence; Alek had recently just broken up with Melody Swift, and now he was officially married to Luna Kjellberg before he could even begin college. Hence, another great scandal. What a careless idiot.

At the last moment, Natalya realized there was absolutely no point in reprimanding him while he was drunk and more stubborn than he already was when sober. So she left him alone to fuck around with his new wife. Perhaps right now they were in the process of giving her another nephew or niece. She didn't want to know nor even think about it. She should be used to it by now, but she couldn't help feeling more and more frustrated each time any of her older brothers committed another mindless act.

She entered her room and immediately threw herself onto the bed with her face pressed against a pillow. Her feet were sore and she wanted nothing but to keep them out from the floor. Luciano was already asleep on the next bed and Kamilla had dozed off on the couch. Thankfully, Varenka remained awake.

"I saw what happened through Instagram," said the maid. "Was the marriage between Sir Alek and Luna Kjellberg actually legit?"

"Yeah." Natalya grumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow. "He's such a fucking idiot. I wanted to kill him."

"You made that pretty clear in your friends' IG stories," Varenka couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "I also saw you with Sir Tom Everglot in Venus Garden. Katerina Vasylyshynko claimed that you two were kissing."

"That fake bitch tells only lies. Everything that comes out from her stanky mouth are crappy rumors; rubbish." Though secretly, part of Natalya wished the 'kissing' rumor was true.

"And that must be from him?" asked Varenka, pointing at the shopping bag. Natalya hadn't realized she had it with her the whole time, and that she was still holding it.

"Oh... yeah," she replied, rolling on her back to give herself more air to breathe. She peeked into the bag and drew out a shoe box, which turned out to be Vans.

She expected the shoes to be one from the latest, exclusive collection, but realized her expectations were wrong when she discarded the lid of the box: inside was a pair of simple, black sneakers with a white Vans logo on the side. They didn't look too expensive - it must only cost about fifty dollars - but the quality was good nonetheless. It had been a while since someone gave her a pair of shoes that weren't shiny or overpriced; these days she only received Jimmy Choos, Louboutins, the most exclusive pairs from Nike, Adidas, Skechers, Balenciaga, Saint Laurent, and other brands, even Gucci.

God, how much she missed wearing simple footwear.

"He really knows what you need," Varenka smiled at her young mistress. "Speaking of which... would you like a foot massage, Miss Natasha?"

"Please," Natalya sighed in relief.

+++

Knowing most of the others were now dwelling in their own suites though they were probably still up at this hour (which is a quarter to one in the morning), she made the decision to walk out of hers. The path was clear as she had predicted; she hadn't encountered anyone from the ATFB (Association of Trust Fund Brats) in the corridors.

Soon enough, she was heading towards a café where she saw Wendy sipping on a cappuccino and moving her thumb along her phone screen with the other hand.

"Wow, nice shoes."

Natalya turned round. Ace was finally out of that gladiator costume - now he was wearing a Led Zeppelin T-shirt beneath his unzipped grey hoodie, with faded black jeans and a pair of loosely tied black Converse high. Over the past few years, his style never really changed—although, he did start wearing ripped jeans less often.

"Nice clothes, too," Natalya complimented back. "What happened to the Gladiator outfit?"

"I managed to get a drunk fucker to take my place," replied Ace, pointing towards Jason Bieber, who was drunkenly trying to hug every person who passed by. "Anyway, I thought you'd be asleep by now. Is there something that's keeping you awake? Your hostile nephew?"

"Luciano was already asleep when I returned to the suite. And there's nothing that's keeping me awake, actually—not even coffee because I don't even drink that. I just don't feel exhausted." said Natalya. "Why are you still up?"

"I'm leaving in five hours, so I have to make the most out of this trip and continue exploring Vegas while I'm still here. I'm just here waiting for Blake."

"Oh... why the early leave? Most of us plan to leave in the evening."

"I have to take the flight to Connecticut." said Ace, his lips slowly forming an eager smile. "I've decided to go to college, Nat. I'll be having an interview with the dean from Yale."

"Holy shit, that's amazing. I'm glad for you,"

"Yeah... so I'll be taking a break from the band for a while."

"Then there isn't gonna be a lead singer."

"Oh, I'm sure Tyler can handle that role." Ace joked. Natalya laughed loudly; everyone knew Tyler had the most horrible singing voice, even worse than Jonathan, which was seriously saying something.

"What's up?" Blake walked up to the pair, his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. "Hey, Nat."

"Hello, drumstick." Natalya greeted back with a snort. "Where've you been?"

"Luna Kjellberg's suite. The newlyweds and some others are in there feasting on some alcohol while watching a slideshow of memes. Why weren't you there?"

She scowled in exasperation. "I cannot stand watching any more of my brother doing stupid shit."

"Okay, but you really should've seen the memes."

"I'm gonna check them out on someone's IG story when I have the time."

"Huh, okay. What are you up to right now, anyway?"

"I..." Natalya paused; she was perfectly aware of what her own intentions were, yet hesitating to tell even two of her most trusted friends — especially when one of them was someone she was once in love with.

"She's off to see that British prince." Ace answered for her while feigning a smirk to mask his disappointment.

"Oh," said Blake, his eyebrows raised. "I see."

"He's not a prince," Natalya corrected. "More like an earl or a count, actually."

"But he's the king of your heart," Blake teased. Natalya dug her elbow in his ribs, causing him to yelp out in pain.

Ace's lips formed back to a thin line. "We should get going now. Wouldn't wanna hold you back from going to your King Charming."

Natalya rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Don't forget to check out Area 51 while you're still in Nevada."

"Oh, that's exactly what we plan to do," Blake grinned. "See you, Nat." He slapped her palm before walking off. Ace began to move forward to follow him, but hesitated before deciding to remain where he stood.

Natalya raised her eyebrows at him. "Well? Whatever you want to tell me, just say it."

"I... just think that Everglot dude is good for you. Better than me or Sebastian, at least. He seems to understand you well — even got you a pair of simple shoes because that's what you needed. Meanwhile I never felt anything I could give was good enough for you, because heck — you're practically royalty. You can have everything you want, and you deserve to be with a guy who's on the same level as you. And maybe he could be that guy. I'm sure your mother will be very satisfied if ever you marry him."

He sounded perfectly casual while saying this, yet his throat ached with each word he had uttered.

Natalya, who couldn't through people as well as Andrei or their mother could, laughed it off as though Ace's speech was a ridicule. "Are you going brainsick now, to think I'd care about a guy's status?"

Realizing he sounded ridiculous having said that, Ace laughed too. "Oh God, you're right. That was dumb of me to say."

"Anyway, it's true that Everglot is a gentleman, but I doubt he's any different from you or Sebastian. Apart from your brown eyes and dark hair, all three of you have something in common: being irritable, foul-mouthed, but nonetheless sweet to me."

"I guess boys with those characteristics are just your exact type."

"Never really decided what my type is, but yeah... I guess so."

"But you really 'fancy' him, don't you?"

"No," she immediately retorted. "I—I don't—okay, maybe. I'm starting to, at least. Just go already and stop wasting your time talking to me about unnecessary stuff."

"Alright, bye." Ace chuckled shortly and ruffled her blonde hair before jogging away to catch up with Blake.

"Idiot," Natalya smiled as she watched the two young men leave the hotel, while brushing her hair with her fingers to fix it.

Resuming her purpose of coming down here, she continued to make her way to the café and approached Wendy. The latter looked up from her phone and acknowledged her new companion with a smile.

"You must be looking for my brother?" Wendy assumed.

"Yeah. I wanna tell him thanks, and that I love these shoes."

The younger girl smiled. "He'll be really glad to hear that — and to see you. He's in our suite."

"Oh — I'll just see him tomorrow, then—"

"Oh, no no no, wait—" Wendy pulled out a single key from her purse and slid it across the table. "He told me to give this to you in case you come looking for him."

Staring at the little object on the surface of the table, a slightly surprised expression was becoming evident on Natalya's pretty face.

"Go on, go to him," coaxed Wendy. "What's holding you back? Are you worried that he might make an attempt to shag?"

"If he does try to do that, I'm ripping his whole dick off."

Wendy laughed shortly. "That hostility is one reason as to why I believe you would suit well for Tom. All the other girls he's snogged before — he didn't exactly fancy any of them considering he saw them as rather pretentious frail, or clingy. Accordingly, he needs someone more headstrong — someone who'll smack him to his senses if ever he's found in the wrong. Well, he once took a little fancy to Elizabeth Wilson... though unfortunately she never reciprocated his feelings. So I'm hoping that you will."

Natalya still felt uncertain. "Isn't he only pretending to like me just so he can annoy the hell out of Johnny?"

"Well, he's actually always been captivated by your beauty — but yes, he did pretend to like you for the mere sake of infuriating your brother. But that was before he got acquainted with you. He's genuinely fancied you — been in love with you — for quite a while now. Several months, perhaps. And believe me when I say he'll never dare break your heart."

The blonde sneered. "No shit. I'm feared by practically the whole male population of this fucked up planet."

Wendy nodded. "That's why I... feel the need to ask you a favor. I love my brother dearly, and I'd appreciate it immensely if you do your best not to hurt him... emotionally."

"I see no reason to hurt his feelings, so I won't. But you don't mind if I hurt him physically, right?"

The young Brit shook her head and chuckled. "That's why I had to put an emphasis on 'emotionally'. You may kick his shins all you like — he's already injured himself enough by constantly reveling in ludicrous activities with the other boys, anyway, and several times Mamma had to go out of her way to visit him at the hospital."

"Ah... right. His pain tolerance must be higher than average if he's truly accustomed to constant injury," assumed Natalya.

"I suppose so. However, he's rather vulnerable when it comes to his sentiments."

"Another trait that he has in common with Johnny."

"They're both quite similar, no wonder they're mates," remarked Wendy.

Natalya snorted, "Yeah, mates who bicker and slander one another on a daily basis."

"But true to each other, nonetheless. Anyway, you ought to get the key and go now. Tom's waiting."

"You're not coming with me? It's really late and you must be exhausted."

"I took a long nap this afternoon, so not really. I'm just currently waiting for Claudine de Rothschild to get here, since we'll be shopping for sweets together. Our butlers will be with us, of course, so everything shall be fine."

"Alright then," Natalya grabbed the key and got to her feet. "Save me some Hershey's too, will you?"

"There's a high chance Claudine and I might buy up the whole Hershey's store, so don't ever worry if we won't have any left for you."

+++

Tom was slumped back on the sofa and sipping from his cocktail, watching The End of the F***ing World on the TV screen, when the door flew open.

Anticipating to see Natalya, he turned his head — only to be disappointed.

Jonathan was carrying a drowsy Lizzie bridal-style, as Desmond — one of the Everglots' butlers — led the way into the room.

"The bloody hell are you doing here?" Tom regarded Jonathan with a scowl. "Why don't you go to your suite?"

"If you don't already know, you uncultured prick," replied Jonathan sharply, "Zac and Mathias arrived here late and apparently forgot to book their own rooms, so now they're occupying my suite, and they won't stop jamming to the Annie soundtrack. I needed to get Lizzie someplace quieter."

"Fine then. She can have my bed, 'cause I'll be sleeping here."

"This way, sir," said Desmond, ushering the engaged couple into the bedroom.

A minute later, Jonathan joined his friend on the sofa while the butler poured him a glass of the same liquor.

"You've done enough for the day, Desmond. Take a rest." said Tom, dismissing his butler once his task was done. Desmond obediently bowed before leaving the two men to drink and slack away.

"Gin and Dubonnet," muttered Jonathan, holding up his glass. "This was Queen Elizabeth II's favorite, correct?"

Tom gave a simple nod in response.

"And that," Jonathan pointed at the TV screen. "is one of my favorite shows. I wasn't born at the time yet, but it seems 2010s must have been a glorious decade."

"So I've heard." said the Brit nonchalantly, as he grabbed the remote and muted the volume. "But forget the drink, or the TV show. Tell me — what's the purpose of this whole trip, again?"

"Obviously, to celebrate our victory in the lawsuit. We weren't charged guilty and once again managed to avoid imprisonment, hence we ought to rejoice. Not like Sir Drašković stood a chance against us, anyway, when the majority of us were law students and professional liars."

Tom clicked his tongue. "The injustice."

"It was Emiko's choice to take her own life," said Jonathan defensively. "We may have played a part in causing her misery, but it wasn't like we urged her to commit suicide."

"Still. What drives someone to suicide? Depression. And who caused her depression? We did."

"Didn't we each suffer from depression? And yet here we are, still alive and courageous enough to bear the burdens of life."

"Though not valiant enough to admit we're criminals," murmured Tom, taking another swig of the liquid from his glass.

"Perhaps we are—"

"Perhaps?" Tom turned to Jonathan with an expression of distinguishable incredulity. "No, we are certainly criminals. Not because we indirectly killed Emiko Drašković, but remember when we also directly killed that Clitherow bloke while we were playing Russian Roulette? And we've violated a few other laws as well, such as carrying firearms around Britain without any license—"

"Does it really matter?" retorted Jonathan. "Tom, we're in the list of the world's most elite; we stand in the top of society. We're six times richer than the King himself, what with his net worth of only about four hundred million pounds. We know the law and we know how to prevent ourselves from getting charged if we violate it. And with the addition of our allure which can make practically every man and woman act or even think like fools, would you still be foolish enough to think that we won't be able to get away with our crimes? Look — what matters is that we're here chilling in a lovely suite in Caesars Palace, drinking gin and Dubonnet, dwelling in luxury and not rotting in prison. The best thing to do is to forget and move on instead of drowning in guilt from our past wrongdoings."

Not knowing what to respond nor having anything to say, Tom refilled his own glass and swallowed the contents of the liquor in one swig. This was a topic he had no desire to discuss nor argue about.

"Besides," Jonathan added, after taking a chug from his own drink, "Even if we do get sent to jail, our parents will bail us out. They never run out of money."

How very easy it was for him to say these things, yet privately he was aware that not even all the money and power in the world could erase the guilt that will continue to haunt those involved in the tormenting of Emiko Drašković for the rest of their lavish lives.

Their contemplation was interrupted when the door opened again, admitting a single, blonde-haired figure into the room. Her presence was enough to lighten up Tom's mood at once, but Jonathan on the other hand —

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Tom," he groaned. "Haven't I told you to lay off my sister?"

"As much as I don't like you with my sister, I finally let you date her — and I definitely did not protest when you told us about your engagement," Tom shot him a glare.

Jonathan laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder. "I'm kidding. I give you the permission to go out with Natasha — just don't come crying to me when she starts kicking your head for absolutely no reason."

"In case you're forgetting, I'm right here and I can fucking hear you very clearly," Natalya scowled at the two boys as she approached. "Johnny, can you leave us for a while?"

"No, why not I just stay?"

"I'll pull out each hair on your head one by one."

Frowning, Jonathan retreated to the balcony while running his hand along his own white-blonde locks as though to shield them from his sister's fingers.

Natalya dropped herself down on the sofa next to Tom. The dark-haired Brit, seeing that she was wearing the shoes he'd bought her, failed to suppress his smile.

"I love them, by the way," she said, putting her feet up on the coffee table to show off her brand new sneakers. "Ooh — is that The End of the F***ing World?"

"Yup, I'm rewatching it."

"Go back to the first episode. I wanna rewatch it too. It's one of my favorite Netflix shows."

If it were anyone else, Tom would have refused. But this was Natalya — and without arguing, he unmuted the volume and did as she told.

Half an hour later, Jonathan returned from the balcony to witness Tom already fast asleep, while Natalya's head rested on his lap, her blue eyes still wide open and concentrated on the TV screen.

Silently wondering if they had kissed while he was gone, Jonathan stared at the couple for a brief minute, before deciding that they would indeed be lovely — however chaotic — together.

—-

wow this was long

aight there's gon be a part 4

— admin audrey