1 Chapter One

Life as the only son of an aristocrat family in Derbyshire had its perks, of course. In fact, it had more perks than quirks. Evan knew it more than anyone. The best boarding schools in the United Kingdom, the best clothes, the best food, a social circle that included the offspring of the noblest British families, an enormous residential home of Tudor style, with a luxurious contemporary interior design and a backyard with a swimming pool and a greenhouse… Everything anyone could dream of.

Still, it did have its quirks, though.

Being twenty-two years old now, Evan's family was in bankruptcy. They weren't exactly nobles, they were actually descendants of nobles who owned practically the entire county back in the old days. His father was a well-known judge in the entire country and his mother was the right hand of The Royal Ballet's director. But there was something his parents weren't telling him about: they had been evading taxes for the past four years.

It was a warm and quiet evening when they told him about that. They found themselves having dinner at the opulent dining room, the casual one in front of the kitchen on the eastern wing of the manor. Evan was always going to remember the way he dropped his spoonful of clam cream soup back on the plate when his parents told him they had arranged a marriage between him and a noble lady from a faraway kingdom.

Evan was in his last year of college, studying music. He was excellent at most of the instruments, but his favorite one was always going to be the cello. Even if he didn't think he was a prodigy at it, he was still able to see a future as a concert performer. He had enough talent, knew the people who could help him getting there…

Now all of those dreams got broken and merely ruined by his parents' greedy actions.

There he was now, listening to Coldplay on an airplane heading towards some country called Avevia. Where on Earth was Avevia in the first place? One of his best friends told him it was a small archipelago of islands located at the north of French Polynesia; little did she know about it except it seemed to have been colonized by France and Spain and gained its independence very recently —not longer than thirty years ago.

He unlocked his phone and looked for the gallery, wanting to see his friends one more time, like mourning the loss of their friendship. Sure, they were going to be able to see each other at times, but once or twice a year would have never been enough for him. He was certain that the exorbitant distance would break their bonds. They'd graduate college without him, start basing their careers, grow without him, or at least without him being able to see the beautiful process of growth…

"James, Kirk, Allison, Maggie… I'm going to miss you so much." He muttered for himself, silently, the phrase resounding on the walls of his mind like a peaceful zephyr blowing on a bleak wasteland.

He scrolled down and found the picture of his fiancée. If he could call her like that (the weight of that title was still too heavy for him).

Lady Gabrielle of House Martí was the youngest and only daughter of her family, being exactly twenty years old. She was beautiful indeed, with her sun-kissed skin and big almond eyes, shoulder-length auburn hair, and perfect, pristine white smile. From what they've informed Evan, her hobbies included ballroom dancing, music —she was especially gifted at piano and lyrical singing, ballet, freestyle swimming, learning about art and history, reading any type of poetry —Bécquer and Neruda were her favorites; and last but not least, she was an enthusiast of astrology, Cancer being her zodiac sign.

Of course, she had to be a Cancer…

But the actual problem didn't lie in her zodiac sign, or in her awful literary tastes, or the fact Evan was going to quite likely need to put up with the reincarnation of Maria Callas at every family reunion from now on. In fact, he didn't have anything at all to complain about. Gabrielle was far more beautiful than any of the girls he had seen in his entire life and there was absolutely nothing wrong or out of place with her hobbies and lifestyle.

The actual problem was that she was a noble, beautiful, talented, and interesting girl… And Evan wasn't actually into that. If it were up to him, he'd have picked the most perfect unknown nobleman.

His orientation wasn't exactly a secret. His friends back in Derby knew about it. They left it clear they were comfortable with it and supported him no matter what, saying they'd absolutely get his back in case he'd want to have a secret affair with a guy —as his parents would frown deeply and automatically disapprove of it. But the days of daydreaming about a passionate forbidden romance and a powerful friendship that would always cover it for him to achieve his happily ever after were over. He was on a flight heading towards an archipelago of islands in the middle of nowhere on his way to marry the perfect woman he had never dreamt of.

But there was no use in keeping stress over it. If Allison had been there with him, she'd have said he'd get wrinkles on his forehead if he kept overthinking.

He sketched a nostalgic smile as a Marshmello song began playing on his phone's playlist.

To begin with, he had never had a boyfriend. Only crushes, some deeper than others.

He had his first puppy love when he was six, he had met a boy two years older than him at a summer camp for the nobility; his parents sent him there most probably to get rid of him for the summer and in hope that he'd learn about etiquette and other baloney. He didn't remember this little boy's name, he only remembered it sounded girly —at least to him, but he had mesmerizing teal eyes and beautiful chestnut cherub curls; he also remembered he managed to talk with him more than once, and he was really kind and helpful. Evan never asked him where he was from though, as a kid he was too shy and insecure. Being around a mini-prince like him was enough to snatch all of his barely coherent words away from him.

Then he had his most lasting crush on one of his classmates when he was in sixth grade. Adam Armstrong was his name, he was the embodiment of some Greek god for sure (or that was what Evan thought when he was an eleven-year-old hopelessly in love and trying to understand how his preferences worked). Adam had pale skin and messy ash-brown curls that matched just perfectly with his lime green eyes, thick eyebrows typical in British men, and a gracious Roman nose. He was the star student, the football team's star player who became its captain in their last year of middle school, a boy with too much culture for his age who read Lovecraft's books and enjoyed a good Marvel or DC movie at the same time. But falling in love with a straight boy was never a good idea… Adam got a girlfriend in their first year of high school, leaving Evan badly brokenhearted.

Then, when Evan was fifteen, his parents decided it was time for him to take piano lessons. Mr. Wright was a virtuous Guyanese pianist, he must have been in his early thirties. He had tanned skin and almond dark brown eyes, a trimmed mustache crowned his thin curvy lips, and he used to try his best to tame his wild raven black curls with gel. By those times, Evan learned he had a preference for men with curly hair; but surprisingly, the feature that attracted him the most wasn't his curls, no. What he first saw in Mr. Wright were his hands, big, with long fingers that took his smaller ones to guide them across the keys of the stringed instrument...

"Mr. Clarke, adjust your seatbelt, please. The plane will land in around fifteen minutes." The flight assistant informed with a clear, gentle voice; then he returned to the staff room.

Evan wanted to look back in his memories and immerse himself in a trip to the past, a trip to his misadventures as a young gay boy. But it seemed the flight to Avevia wasn't long enough for that. He couldn't help but think it was truly a shame. Although having to force himself to stop feeling things towards all of those boys and men did hurt at the given moment, nostalgia and remembrance could be something nice at times, they could even help you forget the struggles and distress of the present you're living.

But for now, he'd have to brace himself and hold on to the chair as tightly as he could. The airplane's abrupt landing wasn't going to be the only unpleasant experience he'd have to get through...