"I really like the white, but I think the red is the one though, mate." Rich muses, standing in the changing room staring at himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, yeah whatever you feel." Arthur responds absentmindedly, securing the cuff-links on his crisp white shirt.

Rich looks at his cousin with a raised eyebrow, "Bro, you need to have an opinion on this. Your tie has to match my suit. And I don't wanna show up in a red suit and fuck up the colour scheme of your wedding."

Arthur frowns, a look of contempt washing over his face, "I don't care, Richard. I really, really, don't care."

"You should care, it's your wedding." Rich comments, looking at Arthur though his peripheral as he fixes the black bow-tie around his neck.

"Doesn't feel like it's my wedding." Arthur mutters, looking at the sharp black suit that adorns his body, "it feels like my funeral."

Rich releases a short, shocked laugh, "Don't be so dramatic, Arthur. You chose this, remember."

"What?!" Arthur exclaims in disbelief, "I did not choose this."

"Oh, I'm sorry? I must be mistaken, because I was under the impression that you were in love with a beautiful woman, and gave it up because Mummy said so." Rich says mockingly, turning to his friend and fixing him with an accusatory look.

"You did not just say that!" Arthur snaps angrily, "You know I didn't ask for this! Grace made this decision, not me!"

"Because she didn't want to make you do it!" Rich hits back, then he pauses, taking a deep breath to calm himself down, "Look, this is hard on you, I know that. You got put in an impossible position and had to make a choice."

"I absolutely did not make a choice."

"Yes you did. Grace wanted to be with you, but didn't want to be a princess. That sounds like an ultimatum to me."

"She didn't give me an ultimatum." Arthur pouts with a furrowed brow.

"No, she's too nice for that. She fooled you into thinking she made the choice to leave. But she didn't leave you, she left royalty. But because she wanted save you from the guilt, she didn't tell you it was an ultimatum."

Arthur huffs, turning away from his cousin to look at himself in the mirror again, contemplating, "What does this have to do with enjoying my wedding?"

"Everything. You're a grown man, Arthur. The moment you decide you don't want something, you can leave it behind. If you really didn't want to go through with this wedding, if you wanted to drop everything and be with Grace, you could. But instead you're here, two weeks after she left, trying on tuxedos. This is you making a choice. You don't get to complain about it now."

Rich picks up two ties and holds them to his own neck.

"Now, white or red?"

~~~

"So, this is my apartment!" Will exclaims, opening the heavy fire door to the entrance of his flat, "My flatmates have all gone home by now, so it's just me."

Sam follows his brother through the white corridor, which is bare aside from lone radiator and a floor-length mirror.

He raises an eyebrow, "Not very lived in, is it?" He comments jokingly taking in the clinical colour of the walls.

"Shut up, we aren't here long enough to decorate." Will grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

"Where's the kitchen?" Sam asks eagerly. He likes to cook; before her death, his birth mother had curated book of old Asian recipes that she'd collected from her family over the years. When Sam was old enough to read, his parents gave it to him, and he's barely been away from a kitchen since.

"Good luck finding the time or money to cook the extravagant meals you cook, bro." Will jokes, but walks toward the kitchen anyway.

"You don't cook? What do you eat instead?" His brother laughs.

"Children's souls." The taller boy grins, opening the door, "Also known as take away."

"How are you still so skinny?" Sam complains, in the petulant tone that younger brothers do.

"You wish you had my metabolism." Will mocks.

"Actually, I don't. Because you and I both know that your fast metabolism is only gonna catch up to you in the future."

Will huffs and rolls his blue eyes, "Whatever. No one likes a know-it-all, Samantha."

Sam frowns, his thick brows furrowing, "Don't call me that. You know how I feel about that name."

"It's your name, Samantha. Embrace it."

Sam growls and walks out of the kitchen without another word.

Will hadn't been teasing him. Samantha really is his brother's name. In Sri Lankan tradition, it's masculine, taken from the god Saman. Sam's parents had explained the meaning in depth to Will's mum and dad. When they died, Will's parents thought it was important that Sam grew up proud of his heritage. And he did... until he went to school and got bullied into discarding the last half of his name.

"What's with the stain on the couch?" Sam asks warily, not sure if he actually wants the answer.

Will looks at the stain, dark, and slightly pink, large enough to look like someone bled out on the fabric.

He laughs, "Oh, that's a funny story-"

"Does it end in manslaughter?" Sam interrupts flatly.

"Don't be a dumbass, Dumbass." Will responds, then continues his explanation, "It's from pre-drinks. Elina and Grace were already nearly off their tits, and so Arthur was trying to secretly swap their glasses of rosé for some berry flavoured squash. But he lost his balance and ended up spilling it all over himself and the sofa."

He finishes the story with a slight chuckle and fond smile, then pauses, trying to think, "I can't remember how he fell. I think he was pushed." Will frowns, and a sad look washes over his face, "By Rich."

Sam, known by all to be the observant brother, notices the far away look on Will's face. He opens his mouth and closes it soon after, putting the pieces together in his head.

"Rich... the prissy brunet who looks like he belongs on the cover of a tory recruitment poster?"

Will side-eyes his brother, not at all surprised that he put two and two together so soon, "You're getting faster."

"Or you're getting more obvious." Sam quips , one side of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

Will regards his brother, taking in his warm brown skin and fluffy black hair, which falls gracefully over his forehead. He was blessed with a beautifully structured face, high cheekbones and square jaw, though he hasn't completely grown out of his youthful aura.

He's a catch, Will thinks with a smile. His brother was always awkward. He knew he was smarter than everyone else in his class but never liked to show it, always afraid of being singled out, of his classmates resenting him. Jealousy is a bitch.

But Sam's grown into a handsome man with a sharp wit and brilliant mind.

Will couldn't be more proud.

"Stop thinking. You look ugly when you think too hard." Sam tells him, distracted by something outside the window.

"So that's why I can't get a hot physics boyfriend. My big brain is turning them off." Will jokes, "And hey! You weren't even looking at me, how did you know I was thinking too hard?"

"You're a motormouth. The moment you stop talking, I know you're overthinking." Sam grins cheekily, turning to his brother.

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Sam huffs out a laugh. Then his face straightens, forming a knowing smile, "'Boyfriend', huh?"

Will pales, avoiding his brother's eyes. He curses himself for his slip of the tongue.

"Relax, Curly-Fry, you said it yourself, I'm observant." Sam reassures him, an uncharacteristically soft smile on his face, "Now. Talk to me. You're inner turmoil is creating a funk in the room."

Will frowns, not really sure what his brother means. Spill what? He has a lot of feelings. What's he supposed to start with?

"I'm asexual."

It comes out of nowhere. It's not even what Sam was referring to, Will knows that. He was meant to mention his colossal homosexual crush on one of his best friends. But this is what came out.

Sam blinks, surprised. He turns his body completely towards his brother and tilts his head.

"But..." Will speaks again, cautiously, "You must have known that?"

"I-I did." Sam says, still in shock, "I... just didn't expect you to say it."

"Neither did I." Will lets out a sigh, "I'm asexual and the man I'm in love with has the sex drive of a rabbit."

The younger man stares at his brother sadly, a hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder.

"I trust your judgement, Will, and if you've fallen for him, then he must be a good guy, deep down-."

"Way... way... down." Will interrupts with a smile.

"Extremely far down." Sam grins, "If he feels the same, then he'll love all of you. He'd be a fool not to."

"He's a fool anyway." Will says ruefully, think fixes his brother with a grateful smile, "But a boy can dream."