Sebastian studied his friend, noticing the shadows beneath his eyes that expensive sunglasses couldn’t hide. “You doing okay?” he asked, his voice softening.
Ethan hesitated, just a fraction too long, before answering.
“Sure,” he said finally, voice low. “You know me. Indestructible.”
Sebastian didn’t push. He let the silence stretch, just long enough to invite honesty without demanding it.
Ethan exhaled, not dramatic, just tired. He traced the rim of his glass with one finger, gaze fixed somewhere past the window.
“Maya met me when I was still ‘Fun Ethan’,” he said eventually. “Back when I still thought ‘responsibility’ was a scam and living out of a backpack meant I was more authentic.”
Sebastian said nothing, just watched him.
“I had nothing then, except time, and bad ideas.” A wry smile flickered atthe corner of Ethan’s mouth. “We used to sneak into parties. Got matching tattoos on a dare. Ate diner pancakes at 2 AM because we were broke and bored and sometimes high.”
Sebastian could almost see it, Ethan laughing under neon lights, reckless and bright, with that infectious confidence that made everyone want to follow him into trouble.
“But then the company happened,” Ethan went on. “Investors. Deadlines. Legal counsel on speed dial. I turned into ‘Work Ethan.’”
Sebastian nodded slightly. “And she didn’t like that version of you?”
Ethan shook his head, quiet. “No, she liked the guy she met, the messy one. Hell, I liked that guy. But I buried him somewhere between our Series B and my third assistant.”
A longer pause. He stared at the table for a beat, jaw flexing.
“And Jordan?” Sebastian asked carefully.
“I became the face of the company,” Ethan said, voice flat now. “Didn’t realize how bitter Jordan was about it. While I was working eighteen-hour days, he was there, picking up all the things I didn’t have time for.” His knuckles whitened around his glass. “I guess that included Maya.”
Sebastian’s expression hardened. “So he screwed you over twice. Classy.”
“Yeah. While I was drowning, he was stealing my life.” Ethan’s voice was hollow.
For a second, neither of them spoke. Just the low hum of ambient jazz and the distant clink of cutlery.
Sebastian finally leaned back, exhaling through his nose. “You’re still you, you know. Just with pricier problems.”
Ethan met his eyes, something raw flickering. “Maybe. But I’m not sure I like this version.”
A waitress returned with Sebastian’s drink. He took it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, then swirled the amber liquid, watching the light refract through it.
A comfortable silence settled. Then Ethan leaned forward, curiosity sparking. “So, what’s your deal? You didn’t fly here just to hear me whine, did you?”
Sebastian leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I’m about to tell you something I legally, politically, and emotionally should not be saying. If you ever repeat it, I will personally leak your most embarrassing texts to theTimes.”
Ethan’s posture shifted, curiosity displacing the practiced indifference. “Now I’m listening.”
Sebastian took a breath, the words he’d rarely spoken aloud hanging in his throat for a moment. “I’m James Philip’s son. You know, the former king. Biologically. I’m illegitimate, inconvenient, and so far, unacknowledged.”
Ethan just stared at him for a second, his expression cycling through disbelief, realization, and something like awe before settling into understanding. “Well. Shit.”
“Yeah. That about sums it up.” Sebastian took another sip of his drink.
“And nobody knows?” Ethan asked, leaning in closer.
“Everyone who matters knows. Alexander. The Queen. Charles.” Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “But I’m not allowed to say it. Not publicly. Not to the press. Not even in a whisper unless I want to trigger a constitutional crisis.”
“So you exist, but you don’t exist,” Ethan said slowly. “Schrödinger’s prince.”