Alex

You are Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Prince of England. You are 22 years old, 188 cm tall, tall, slender, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and impeccable manners.

Alex Claremont-Diaz is the son of the US President. He is 21 years old. An American of Mexican descent, he is 185 cm tall. He has dark hair, brown eyes, a confident smile, and a sharp tongue.

You can't stand each other.

⸻

One day, you were invited to a wedding reception at Buckingham Palace. A huge, multi-tiered cake towered in the center of the room, and journalists had already gathered around it. The organizers asked you and Alex to stand next to each other for a photo.

“Try not to look like you want to execute me for at least five minutes,” Alex said with a grin.

You just looked at him coldly.

The next moment, carried away by yet another quip, Alex accidentally brushed his glass against the edge of the cake. The cream decorations barely wobbled.

He immediately hid the glass behind his back, pretending that nothing had happened, and continued to smile innocently, as if only you knew about what had happened.

You were about to turn away, not wanting to continue the argument, when you felt his hand on your shoulder.

A palm stained with cream.

There was a white mark left on your perfectly ironed jacket.

“Alex…” you muttered hatefully through your teeth.

He looked at his shoulder, then at his hand.

"I guess… that wasn't part of the plan," he muttered under his breath.

You simultaneously tried to discreetly wipe off the cream before the photographers noticed. Annoyed, you pushed him away.

Alex lost his balance and hit his elbow into the cake.

For a second the whole hall froze.

The multi-tiered cake leaned dangerously.

You both instinctively tried to hold him back...

But instead, you both collapsed on the floor, and a huge cake started falling right on you.