The mont Princess Alesha and her royal friends saw Nox, Nikola, Leo, and Isaac step onto the stage, they were already on the verge of completely losing their minds.
Years of royal etiquette.
Gone.
Decades of proper decorum.
Gone.
Centuries of noble bloodlines.
Hanging on by a thread.
Because that was simply what happened when one ca face-to-face with their biases.
Princess Alesha looked seconds away from dropping to the floor and barking.
Respectfully.
Elegantly.
Regally.
But barking nonetheless.
Then Louie and Mikko walked onto the stage.
And whatever remained of the royals' composure imdiately left the building.
Princess Alesha grabbed onto Princess Stephanie.
Princess Stephanie grabbed onto Prince Arthur.
Prince Arthur grabbed onto whoever happened to be closest.
The three of them sat there clutching one another like survivors witnessing a historical event unfold in real ti.
Because in a way...
They were.
"Holy shit."
Princess Alesha breathed the words out.
Remarkably, she sohow managed to sound elegant while cursing.
A true talent.
The kind only royalty could possess.
Prince Arthur of Monaco stared at the stage with wide eyes.
"Is this why we've been told to keep everything confidential?"
Nobody answered because everyone was too busy freaking out.
Arthur pointed dramatically toward the stage.
"Because this is literally confirming that Louie and Mikko are debuting with 4 of Scones!"
Princess Stephanie gasped so hard it sounded dically concerning.
"It has to be true!"
"It HAS to be!"
"Oh my God."
"Oh my God."
"OH MY GOD."
The three royals proceeded to have a completely normal and dignified reaction.
Which is to say:
None whatsoever.
Across the table, Jonathan and Odette watched the spectacle unfold with barely concealed amusent.
Because honestly?
Seeing royalty behave like ordinary fangirls and fanboys was unexpectedly entertaining.
No formal speeches.
No diplomatic smiles.
No carefully crafted public personas.
Just young people losing their minds over their favorite artists.
And sohow that felt far more genuine than any royal banquet ever could.
For once, they weren't princes and princesses.
They weren't representatives of nations.
They weren't future heads of state.
They were simply fans.
Excited.
Happy.
Completely obsessed.
And Jonathan found himself smiling at that realization.
Because whether Foca intended it or not, he had given them sothing incredibly rare.
A chance to simply be their age.
A chance to escape their titles.
A chance to forget, even briefly, the weight of expectations resting on their shoulders.
And for that, Jonathan couldn't help feeling proud.
Proud of his youngest brother.
Proud of the man he had beco.
Because sohow, despite all the success, all the wealth, and all the influence he possessed, Foca still had the ability to create joy for people.
Simple, genuine joy.
The kind money could never buy.
anwhile, the three royals had completely locked onto the stage.
Eyes wide.
Spines straight.
Souls already departed.
None of them willing to miss even a single second of what was about to happen.
History was unfolding before them.
And they intended to witness every mont.
As for Jonathan and Odette?
They were no different.
Though admittedly, Jonathan's condition was becoming increasingly concerning.
Because the man's heart was currently beating at approximately the speed of a hummingbird trapped inside a washing machine.
Excitent buzzed through him.
Anticipation.
Curiosity.
Pure brotherly pride.
He had absolutely no idea what Foca had prepared.
But he knew one thing with complete certainty.
Whatever it was...
It was going to be spectacular.
And Jonathan wasn't about to miss a single second of it.
****
And so, Nox, Nikola, Isaac, Leo, Mikko, and Louie took their positions.
As Nikola did, his gaze drifted toward the front row where the three royals sat front and center. Unable to resist, he shot them a charming wink paired with a devastating smirk.
The result?
The three royals collectively gasped and imdiately clung to each other like survivors of a natural disaster.
The lights dimd.
The six slowly lowered their heads.
It was quiet.
The calm before the storm.
Anticipation hung thick in the air, stretched so tight it felt ready to snap. Even those who hadn't been particularly interested at first found themselves leaning forward. So did it unconsciously. Others would sooner jump off a cliff than admit they were getting invested.
But they were.
Curious.
Interested.
Wondering.
Were these so-called Bread Music artists actually worth the hype?
And then...
BAM!
Heads snapped up as the music exploded through the venue.
🎶I open the door for you,
Pull the chair, pour the wine slow too
Treat you with respect, yeah that's the code
Mama raised right, that's all I know🎶
Leo opened the song strong.
He wore that charming gentleman smile of his, layered with just enough gar-gremlin energy underneath to make it dangerously effective. It was part wholeso prince, part sleep-deprived Discord nace.
And his voice?
Not lacking in the slightest.
So people might still peg him as the gar dude who sohow got lucky enough to debut.
To those people, I'd like to politely direct them to the earlier chapters.
Go read them.
This guy debuted because he had guts.
This was the sa man who, during his first impressions performance back at LEAVEN, chose a song so absurdly high that Foca had to stop him out of genuine concern for his vocal cords.
Since then, Leo had beco known for having so of the most reliable and stable vocals among the trainees.
The guy could sing.
He'd simply gotten a little too ambitious and tried to swallow the sun on his first attempt.
His voice flowed through the venue like expensive wine being poured into crystal. Silky. Smooth. Rich.
And just a tiny hint sexy.
🎶Raised a gentleman, my father's way
"Manners maketh man," heard that every day
Respecting boundaries, that's the creed
and my homies? Yeah, we always heed🎶
As Leo continued his verse, the tension lingering in his face slowly lted away. With each line, he grew more comfortable, more confident.
I an...
If you were opening a song that was basically written with your boss's brother in mind, you'd probably be a little tense too.
But Leo rose to the occasion.
He started strong and sohow kept climbing from there.
His confidence spread through the group like a ripple, helping his teammates settle into the performance as well.
The choreography blood alongside the music.
At first glance, it seed simple.
Then people noticed the precision.
The synchronization.
The way six different people moved with a single shared rhythm.
The six young n danced as though they were one person split into six bodies.
Hearing the lyrics, Jonathan suddenly stood up.
One hand rested on his hip while the other covered his mouth. His expression was caught sowhere between shock and disbelief.
Beside him, Odette mirrored the gesture, her own hand pressed against her lips as she processed what she was hearing.
Because once upon a ti...
Those lyrics had been real.
And Jonathan had actually said them.
****
🎶Fair is fair, babe, love done clean
I give my all, no smoke, no screen
All I ask is the sa energy
et halfway, lovingly🎶
This ti, Louie took center stage.
He stared out into the crowd as though he were singing directly to each and every person present. There was no teasing smirk, no playful wink.
Just sincerity.
Pure, genuine sincerity.
And Princess Alesha?
She finally snapped.
Not in a bad way.
More in the way a severely overworked employee finally reaches the end of their shift after years of unpaid overti.
Royal decorum had been clocked in for far too long.
Years.
Decades, perhaps.
Working twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, with no vacation leave, no sick leave, and definitely no hazard pay.
But tonight?
Tonight, decorum finally submitted its paid ti off letter.
Effective imdiately.
And so, with a grateful salute, it clocked out for the evening.
What clocked in instead was sothing far more powerful.
The fangirl.
The one that had been locked away behind royal etiquette, polished manners, and carefully maintained dignity.
The fangirl had been imprisoned for years.
Now she was free.
Alesha shot to her feet.
She was shouting.
She was screaming.
She was crying.
She was taphorically throwing up.
All while completely ignoring every rule of proper royal conduct.
Because tonight was the night.
Tonight she would do exactly as Elsa had once instructed.
Let it go.
The people around her nearly launched themselves out of their seats in surprise.
The outburst had co completely out of nowhere.
Did Alesha care?
Not even a little.
She could not give a flying fuck.
She was dancing.
She was vibing along.
And she was absolutely convinced that six incredibly handso young n were personally serenading her.
As far as she was concerned, they were.
Her enthusiasm proved infectious.
Prince Arthur took one look at his friend and decided that decorum could take a vacation day.
Princess Stephanie quickly reached the sa conclusion.
Their inner fanboy and fangirl, long suppressed beneath layers of royal expectations, imdiately escaped containnt.
Jonathan, anwhile, was happy for the three of them.
Truly.
But if he were being honest?
His attention was mostly on the song.
He was enjoying it.
Vibing, even.
And really, who could bla him?
The song was basically about him.
Odette had also risen from her seat, swaying along to the music beside her husband.
Then she heard the final line of Louie's verse.
Her head snapped toward Jonathan.
At the exact sa mont, Jonathan turned toward her.
Both of them staring at each other with wide eyes.
"You told that on our first date," Odette said.
"I did," Jonathan replied.
For a mont, they simply looked at each other.
Then both of them broke into bright smiles.
The kind that arrived without permission.
The kind that carried years of mories within them.
Shaking their heads, they laughed softly.
Because once again, they found themselves listening to a song that sounded suspiciously like pieces of their own love story. Which it actually is.
****
PS - You can listen to "Healthy Ego" in full at YouTube (@FocacciaBread-Music), Spotify (sopen.spotify/album/4QUAhCjeh6VNkJjQq6wnnU?si=BpvIPtSZShKp8ClY3TPTdw) or other digital streaming platforms.
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