The White Gold

A/N Yes, I have re-written the Royal family of England, so no, this is not a fanfiction. Ciao.

Chapter One: Street Fame.

Trying hard to hide my face.
They placed the name,
But can’t recall description.

-- Tupac, Street Fame

Prince Alton Windsor never quite got along at social gatherings. Everyone had their own theories as to why, some wild and some close to the truth, but in all honesty it was just that… well, Alton Windsor didn’t like people. Now, this was nothing against his upbringing; he had many playmates as a child, most of which were from families almost as rich as his own. He had four sisters and a brother, all of whom had an amazing part in his childhood, for by the time Alton was two years old both of his parents were dead.

No, Alton’s social preferences (or rather, abject apathy) held no response against his family at all. It was simply his personality. When his sisters were out playing with boys their ages, Alton stayed alone in his room and studied. When his brother was learning the ways of royalty, mingling with those who were also of important status, Alton locked himself in the library with a pile of books.

Though this resulted in intelligence above average for the prince of England, it often left absent an understanding of human nature. This left, of course, nowhere to turn when he was dragged out to parties. Nowhere but the exit.

This may seem pointless information at first sight, but if it weren’t for Alton’s dislike of people (and certainly at more than one person on one occasion), he may never have left that party, and we may not have this story. For this is not just a telling of a young prince’s life, it’s a message of tolerance and intolerance, changes that need to be made and never will. Alas, the account should be written before the significance of itself, and telling a story from back to front will cause only confusion.

The point is that Alton did leave that specific party on that specific night, and so the following account was able to take place. Those who do not believe in fate call it coincidence, and those who do not believe in coincidence call it fate, but either way, if four teenagers did not leave a run-down club and decide to walk the longest way home, the events of that night could not spiral into one of the most prominent aspects of Prince Alton’s life.

The night that he met Razi Danielovitch.

He hadn’t been searching for anyone to talk to in the first place; he was simply sitting on the corner of a street and watching cars pass him by, placed just between lamp-posts, in the point where the darkness was enough to secure his features, nothing visible but the dim shine on a head of light hair, and the gleam of eyes hiding underneath the fringe.

It was the glisten of light hair that caught four teenagers attention as they passed, the small body curled into itself as he sat, head tilted to one side.

‘You lost, kid?’ the first girl asked, sounding concerned. Alton glanced lazily up at her, unable to see much past the silver piercings around her mouth.

After a pause, Alton sighed. ‘I’m not as young as I look, I’m just small. I’m fifteen. And yes, I am lost, but I’m pretty content with it.’

The girl let out a low ‘hmm’ of thought, then dropped down to sit next to him. ‘I’m Aaron,’ she greeted, sticking out her hand in an attempt to be polite. Alton idly noticed that the only feature he could make out was that her nails were painted black, before he grasped her hand lightly and shook it.

‘ Alton,’ he replied. ‘Isn’t Aaron a boy’s name?’

‘Try telling my parents that,’ Aaron replied, her voice hushed as if it were a secret. ‘That’s Emma, John and Razi,’ she pointed out, gesturing to the three other teenagers that were waiting for her under the nearest lamp post. ‘So where are you headed, Ali?’

‘It’s Alton,’ he replied, somewhere between amused and annoyed. It was a strange new feeling, being secured in the dark and this Aaron girl not knowing exactly who he was. Almost as if he was a normal teenager. ‘And I have a party I should be getting back to. I managed to escape, but if my sister notices I’ve left I’m going to be brutally murdered.’ He paused. ‘Though I think we out-lawed murder a while back.’

Aaron laughed, the sound loud and clear in the dark night. ‘Yeah, I think it’s just a little illegal, love.’

‘Aaron, I have a fucking curfew,’ the other girl warned her from where she was standing with the boys. ‘Know how you like befriending strange little’ns, but if I’m more than an hour late, my mama will send out a fucking search party.’

Aaron snorted, and somehow still managed not to sound unattractive as she did so, and then put both hands on the concrete to push herself up. ‘Come on, Ali, we’ll walk you back to your party.’

For a long moment Alton considered this turn of events, unsure if they would recognize him come the light from the lamp posts. Though the idea of being treated like any other teenager appealed to him, he certainly wasn’t ready to ‘out’ himself.

And though Aaron may be fine by herself, people’s personalities had a tendency to change when a group of people were introduced to the situation.

‘Come on,’ Aaron said, now standing and looking down on him. ‘We’re not gonna bite.’

Alton looked to the other teenagers, still waiting a little way away, the girl with one hand on her cocked hip, lime green skirt standing out against the dim coloring of the night. The other boy was draped over her, giving the distinct impression that they were a couple. The last boy was another few paces behind, flipping something that caught in the light across his knuckles.

They weren’t really very threatening at all.

‘Okay,’ Alton agreed after a few beats too long. ‘The party’s at The Platinum.’

‘Damn boy, you must have a pocketful.’ Aaron looked vaguely impressed. ‘That’s one posh place. You rich or something?’

Now standing, Alton walked with precautious steps towards the other teenagers. ‘Or something,’ he admitted, not willing to tell the teenagers who he was without necessity.

‘He’s not sleeping around my house too,’ Emma argued, apparently having not heard some of the earlier conversation. ‘Mama’s already fucking freaking at the fact we’re having a Negro over—’

‘Do you have a death wish?’

‘Sorry, Razi.’ Emma had the morality to look sheepish. ‘But it’s the truth. Ain’t my fault she’s stuck in the fucking nineteenth century.’

Razi just rolled his eyes in response this time, concentrating once again on the shimmer of light being flipped over his knuckles. A ten pence piece.

‘We’re walking my mate Ali here back to The Platinum,’ Aaron said, turning and beginning to walk in front of the small group of people, directly under a street lamp, the slither of light fading away to the concrete.

Once again, Alton started to feel uncomfortable with the light.

‘It’s Alton,’ he corrected her, following them and ducking his head as the light poured over him, drenched him in the glow. Once it washed out to darkness again he looked back up, to find Razi looking at him intently.

‘ Alton, is it?’ he asked, a strange look on his dark features that said quite simply that he knew something.

Fiddling with the collar of his shirt, the prince nodded, looking away.

‘Right,’ Aaron started again, turning to walk backwards. ‘Johnny-boy, I was wondering…’ Alton let her voice fade away, not bothering to pay attention. Instead he watched the ten pence piece roll across Razi’s dark fingers, only to be flipped and caught again, a show of complete concentration. ‘Why do you do that?’

Razi glanced up for a moment, but did not answer. Watching him, Emma cleared her throat. ‘He discovered it three years ago when we were testing out hand-eye coordination and he hasn’t fucking stopped since.’

‘That’s… obsessive,’ Alton commented. Razi just shrugged, still watching the coin, falling into step beside the prince.

‘My mama says that most Negros—’

‘Death wish, Emma, death wish.’ Razi’s voice cut her off, sounding more exasperated than annoyed. Emma grinned.

There was much more walking and much more chatter, most of which Alton managed to escape from, just staring at the flip of Razi’s glittering coin, avoiding the light as much as possible and hoping to the eleven Gods of justice that he would not be recognized. Not yet.

‘Can I have your number, Ali?’ Aaron eventually asked, walking backwards as to face him.

‘ Alton,’ he corrected, before realizing her question. He had a mobile phone in his pocket, but had never collected unnecessary numbers and didn’t see this as a time to start. He didn’t really want people to have his number, unless it was an emergency. ‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘I’m insulted,’ Aaron replied, in a tone of voice that showed Alton that she clearly wasn’t insulted. ‘I save your pretty little self from the big bad… streets, walk you back to your rich-ass party, and you don’t want me to call you and beg you for money?’ Alton’s eyes grew wide as he looked the girl over, wondering how poor she was. ‘Ali, relax! I’m not that strapped for cash, and I’m not a beggar. C’mon, consider a few conversations pay-back for a good deed.’

‘You’re an extremely odd girl,’ was Alton’s only immediate response.

‘Oh go on, you uptight fuck,’ Emma said. ‘She’s trying to be nice. It doesn’t happen often.’

John was also giving him a side-long look, as if judging him for his reluctance to create some kind of bridge between them. Though he seemed to prefer not speaking, the look was enough to put forth what he thought, and there was no need for words.

Slowly, Alton pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened it. ‘Put your number in here,’ he said, silently telling himself off as he did so. Aaron beamed, passing him her phone, and he quickly saved his number, careful to use only his first name.

‘You’ve had seven missed calls, Mr Popularity.’ Alton snatched his phone back and looked down, cursing under his breath. He quickly typed in his sister’s number.

‘I’m so sorry! I put my phone on silent earlier—’

‘Where are you?’ Mary-Ambra asked, sounding worried.

‘I went out for a walk and met some… people. I’m walking back now, I’m just around the corner—’

‘Alton Windsor, I’m giving you two minutes and if you’re not here I’ll make Joshua drive off without you, I—’

‘Mary-Ambra Louise Windsor, don’t you dare pull that psycho-princess shit with me. I’m your brother and I know you’re bluffing – and badly, too. So just sit back, look pretty and wait for me.’

‘Twat,’ Mary-Ambra replied, sounding slightly put-out.

‘Spoilt bitch.’

‘Stuck-up rich boy.’

‘Whore.’

‘Love you, Alton.’

‘Love you too.’ He hung up and quickly realized that he had a small audience.

Three of the teenagers looked as if they’d had some kind of epiphany, and Razi—well, Razi still looked as unaffected as ever.

‘You’re Alton Windsor?’ Aaron said loudly, smudged eye-liner making her eyes seem to bug out of her head as she stared.

Alton belatedly realized that they had stopped under a lamp post, and nothing was disguised by sheets of darkness any more.

‘I was wondering how long it’d take you lot to realize we had royalty present,’ Razi commented, still looking to the coin rather than his companions.

‘You knew?’ His three friends turned to face him, watching as he shrugged with disinterest.

By the time they looked back to the lamp post, Alton was gone.

If the lifestyle that you’re living’s
Got you taking more fucking shorts
Than getting props,
Then that lifestyle needs to stop.

-- Tupac, Street Fame