When I signed up for the position of PR for Prince
Kavon, I didn't expect it to be a babysitting
job. But now I know why no one else wanted it.
I'm fresh out of university with zero experience.
And yet the palace hired me to be his PR agent.
From the outside looking in, you'd think everything
in the palace is picture perfect and nothing
ever goes wrong. But it does. It's a hellhole.
Not that I can really say that, because one,
it's bad for the press, and two, I'd get fired.
The last thing I need is for the headlines to
read, one minute PR tossed into the fire. That
won't look good on future job references. Anyway,
let's just say that Kayvon is not the guy they
make him out to be. He's obnoxious, conceited,
egotistical, and such a brat. He's every woman's
worst nightmare. yet they still flock to him
like sheep to a shepherd. It's disgusting, really,
because I don't see what they see in him. I mean,
he treats them like trash, tosses them to the
side after he fucks them and pretends they don't
exist anymore. If I hadn't gotten this job, I
probably would have said, Oh, Prince Caven, he's
so handsome and good looking. But now he's my
worst enemy. I try to hide how I feel, but sometimes
it's inevitable. I was tasked with following
him everywhere he goes and making sure everything
runs smoothly, that the news and press don't
get a whiff of anything bad he's doing. I mean,
I'm literally his babysitter. And when things
spiral out of control, I'm the one doing damage
control. Let's just say that happens at least
twice a month. It's bloody exhausting. But I
signed up for this and the pay is great. So I
can't complain too much. I had expected to be
holding press conferences for the royal family,
making sure their image stayed pristine. Instead,
I've been thrown to the wolves. Worse yet, when
he goes on his escapades, I have to stand outside
the door and listen to everything going on in
there. Yes, I have to hear him fucking all the
girls he's chosen to be with. And then, when
he's finished... I have to barge in like his
mother and make sure he used a condom. I check
the bed and if anything looks suspicious, I'm
required to hand the girl a Plan B and watch
her swallow it right in front of me. Because
no, Prince Cavern cannot have basted children.
I also have to do whatever else is necessary
to prevent any chaos from breaking out between
him and the girl. Crimes of passion, for example.
It's my worst nightmare because even after everything,
he struts around his room completely naked. I
mean, he's literally swinging and he doesn't
give a fuck that I can see him. I do what I can
and turn away, but it's like he loves playing
with me. It's a whole show. He'll emerge from
anywhere and just be hanging. Currently, I'm
standing in the middle of a hotel room, having
just administered a Plan B to a girl named Katrina.
You need to go, I say. What? Why? Because he's
finished with you. There's an Uber waiting downstairs
if you'd like, but you can't stay here. I'm sorry.
She purses her lips, just like every other girl
he's been fucking over the last few months, and
gets up with a huff. Are you really going to
let her throw me out? She asks, cave on shrugs.
I mean, I am finished with you. He says boldly.
She huffs again. You're such a dick. Well, I
do have a really big one. He says, smirking.
So that would be a fitting name. Katrina storms
out, gathering her belongings. It was nice meeting
you, Katrina. I call after her, waving. I turn
to Kavon. He's wrapped in a towel this time,
which surprises me. But the scowl on my face
is clear. Would you ever grow up? I snap. Would
you ever mind your business? I am working while
you play the biggest womanizer around town. Whatever.
He disappears into the bathroom and leaves me
to clean up his mess. Condoms are scattered around,
but based on how long he was going at it, I know
he definitely didn't use one for all of them.
And the thing is, he'll never say. I have to
play detective. He always tells me to guess.
I hate this motherfucker. Kayvon emerges from
the washroom. Towel still wrapped around his
waist and a toothbrush in his mouth. One of these
days, your dick is going to fall off. I say.
He laughs. Never. You fuck at least ten girls
a week. It is bound to fall off. You don't know
what these girls have and you use fewer condoms
every time. Oh, come on. I know you're just mad
it isn't you. I would rather fuck a mangy dog
than lie with the likes of you. He laughs again.
You're into bestiality, huh? I didn't peg you
for that kind of gal. Oh, shut the fuck up. He
pulls the toothbrush out just long enough to
smirk. Did I get you mad? Why would I waste that
kind of energy on you? To be fair, you do look
pissed. It's unfair that I have to babysit a
grown man who acts like a child. A 10 -year -old
has more common sense. I ignore him and head
for the packet of condoms by the nightstand.
He hates it when I ignore him. No more wood for
his flame. He hisses and walks back into the
bathroom. I gather his belongings and pack them
away in the corner. Again, this is not what I'm
paid to do, but I have to clear the area just
in case we run into press outside the door. Are
you finished in there? I ask. You have lunch
with your parents at one. Silence. Five minutes
later. Still nothing. Come on! I yell. Did you
hear what I said? Still nothing. Sometimes he
ignores me and it irritates the living hell out
of me. I walk to the bathroom door and knock.
Nothing. For a moment, my heart skips a beat.
What if he's passed out or something? So I push
the door open. and instantly regret it. He stands
there without his towel, his semi -hard dick
in my direct view, and smiling like the devil
himself. You're a scumbag. You know that. It's
glad to know, he replies, grinning. You take
pride in cursing me out, despite the fact that
I'm the boss of you. I walk out of the bathroom.
I'll be outside whenever you're ready. Jesus,
you sicken me. He chuckles. I exit the hotel
room and stand outside the door. I pull out an
energy bar because I might actually need it.
I don't think I've eaten anything of real sustenance.
That, and the fact that dealing with cave -on
is just tiring. I mean, he knows he's well endowed,
but does he have to flaunt it like that? I've
seen his dick so many times I could count how
many moles he has on it. Ugh. 30 minutes later,
the door opens and a freshly bathed, fully clothed
cave -on walks out. I can't believe you think
you can wear that to your parents' lunch. I most
certainly can. They'll crucify me if you show
up in three -quarter pants and a t -shirt. You
need to dress. I don't have anything here. Well,
you should have thought about that before you
brought that hoochie up here. Hoochie, huh? Someone's...
Jealous. I laugh sarcastically. Jealous? I'm
more concerned about them than you. Hmm. That's
not in your job spec. I glance at my watch. Come
on, we don't have enough time. And we have to
make it out the back. I already heard the press
is downstairs trying to get an exclusive. The
press? He says, smirking. Hmm. Maybe I should
go through the front. I'm feeling a bit... Spontaneous
today. No, you shall not. I grab him by the arm
and yank him down the hall. You know, I think
you get yourself all worked up about me. Sometimes
I think you actually care. I'm just doing my
job. I don't want to get fired. I've been working
for you for nine months. Trust me, you won't
get fired. No one wanted this job anyway. You
should be ashamed. Your behaviour is the reason
why people left and why no one wants this job.
I'm just trying to be myself. You can be yourself
in a decent way. Why would I do that? Then you'd
be out of a job. Not so. I huff and he laughs.
Let's go. The driver is already at the back.
We arrive at lunch and his parents are flabbergasted.
What on earth is he wearing? His mother whispers
to his father. My God, is this what we pay you
to do? His father snaps at me. I'm sorry. Enough
of that. You make excuses for everything. I glance
at Kayvon, and he glances back at me. There's
a little softness in his eyes, as if he's apologising.
But I don't fall for it. He's the reason I'm
being scolded right now. I excuse myself from
the table to give them their privacy, and I'm
standing in the hallway when I get a call. A
random call, actually. But it soon turns into
misery. My father is in the hospital. He'd had
a terrible fall at the shop. I have to go. I
have to go! Shit! I whisper. I glance over my
shoulder at the royal family, still having their
lunch. Crap. I walk straight up to them and say,
Excuse me, I have an emergency, a family emergency.
They stare at me as if that's not urgent enough.
We'll be done in 30 minutes, the Queen says.
Then you can go, after Kayvon is back at the
palace. That'll take forever. I mumble, trying
to keep my composure. But... Oh Jesus, Mom. Kayvon
cuts in. She's having a fucking family emergency.
She needs to go. I'll be fine. No, you will not,
the Queen snaps. Everything you do is a disgrace.
You need her by your side. Well then, he says,
pushing his plate back like an uncouth child.
I'll be going with her to the hospital. The King's
eyes widen. You will absolutely not. Well, it
is an emergency, Cavan says, already standing.
And this lunch is very boring anyway, so I'm
leaving. With her. Kayvon grabs my hand and pulls
me out of the restaurant. You didn't have to
do that. I wanted to. Besides, the lunch was
such a humdrum affair anyway, and the food didn't
taste too good. And it's a family emergency.
You should be able to leave. I stare at him.
Why are you being nice to me? Because... He pauses.
Because what? Nothing. Had my parents been ill,
I would have wanted to be there too. The car
pulls up at the hospital and I dart inside. My
father is lying in bed. His leg is bandaged.
He's broken it in two places. The doctors are
watching me, their faces grim. What's wrong?
He's just had a broken leg. It's cancer. One
of them says. What? The discoloration, low energy,
the bruises. We've done the tests. Your father
has leukemia. I cover my mouth, trying to stifle
my tears. He's all I have. No, no. At the same
moment, Kayvon enters the room and the doctor's
eyes go wide. What's wrong? Kayvon asks. Nothing.
You shouldn't be in here. Why are you crying?
I try to shove him out, but he stands firm in
his stance. Lara, tell me what's wrong. This
doesn't concern you. You need to leave. Not until
you tell me. He touches my shoulder and I pull
away. How dare he touch me like that, as if we're
friends. We're not fucking friends. No one cares.
No one gives a shit about me or my dad. Get the
fuck out of here. Come on, this is not the time.
He eyes me. His gaze is softer. Off. But I can't
be fooled by him. Then he walks out. I burst
into tears. My dad shakes his head from the bed.
I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't know. The doctor
turns to me. There's always hope, but it's going
to cost you. I shake my head. I don't have that
much money. And I'm already swimming in student
loans. We don't have anything. Well, there are
always benefits. The doctor suggests. Do you
have insurance? I shake my head again. Yes, but
it's for me, not him. Maybe you two should talk
about it. Reach out to other family members.
She says gently, then walks out. What other family?
My mother is dead. It's only him and me. Dad,
I'm so, so sorry. It's not your fault, he says.
I had the signs, but I didn't get it checked.
I should have gotten it checked. I reach for
him. I don't want you to leave me. I don't want
you to die. Life happens, sweetheart. He reaches
for my cheek, his hand trembling. Life happens.
I stay with him for a few hours until visiting
time is over. But when I walk out of the room,
Kayvon is still seated there. His head is tilted
back as if he's napping. But the moment I draw
closer, his head lifts. What are you still doing
here? I... I, um... You don't know when to quit,
do you? I couldn't leave you here. I just felt
that... Felt what? You don't owe me anything.
I'm your employee, remember? Yes, but I wanted
to give you some support. You're the last person
I want support from. You're not nice. I walk
off, leaving him in the hallway. The car ride
back to the palace is silent, as it should be.
The moment we pull up, he steps out. I head inside,
clock out, and go home. There's a text on my
phone from Kayvon. He's never texted me before.
I'm sorry about your dad, it says. But why does
he care? He's just a spoiled brat who uses his
parents money and power while the rest of us
suffer in silence. I don't want his sympathy.
I don't need anything from him. All I want is
my dad. How terrible life can be, especially
when it's fine one minute and in the next total
doom. I thought my life couldn't get any worse.
But life has a twisted sense of humor. Turns
out, I hadn't even scratched the surface.