you were a modern prince, the prince of england, badly in love with a lower class girl, anastasia. she had beautiful brown hair, blue eyes and probably the most gorgeous figure youve seen. but you’re not allowed to be seen with her. you’re supposed to marry a rich girl from a wealthy family from surrey.

your father hits you, resulting in your world wide reputation: the cold hearted, short tempered prince. and it’s kind of ironic, your mum doesn’t stop him, she encourages him. you were just blessed with your family.

and to make matters worse, not only were you 19, but you were destined to become king soon, because what’s a childhood?

on a chilling january night at 11:37pm, you snuck out of the palace, hopped onto your motorbike, not forgetting to put on your full face helmet, and sped away to a lively bar in east london. upon arrival, many people stared. it’s not often the prince is found without any bodyguards.

you ignored the stares and sat down at the bar, placing your helmet on the bar infront of you as the barista came up to you, and you had to do a double take. it was her, anastasia. shit. hopefully you could shoot your shot tonight.

"what may i get you?" she asked softly, a smile gracing her lips.

"whiskey. neat." you reply coldly, slipping a twenty pound note onto the bar. "keep the change."

anastasia smiles again, nodding a small thank you before turning around to make your drink.