(The new album came out today and this is definitely my favorite omg)
Yeah, it's really, really weird to want the whole world to love you
You bend over the vanity, staring at yourself closely in the mirror. You apply a small part of powder in the corners of your nose, making sure no one can see the slight discoloration. Anything to make the public happy, right? Your eyes glance to the side a bit, seeing the printed picture of you as a child with your father, sitting together and surrounded by guards. You were wearing a flower crown. Should you wear one again? Maybe on your wedding day.
I think it's pretty bad for my life and relationships
Maven pulls gloves onto his thin, pale hands. He tightens his collar, staring at his reflection as servants surround him. This is who he is. He is grown now. He can stop time. He is happy. He is happy, right? Maven looks at his nose, his eyes, and his chin. He can see the bits of his father that survived throughout his mother's corrupted genetics. Born evil. Evil. Is he evil? Will he always be evil? Doesn't evil ever die? Can it be cured?
Sometimes I walk into public and instantly think that the public doesn't like me, shit
You walk down the hall with your butler by your side. A strongarm. A person request. He lessens your worries. You don't like staying in this castle. It makes you feel unsafe. Your butler is stiff, wired and not looking at you. He must be aware of the camera's, right?
Maven sees you, smiling on the inside. He wants to run up to you, hold you in his gaze. Cameras. His eyes flicker to the ceiling for only a second. The Arven on his side stands up straight, almost pushing Maven along. Maven's steps widen. He feels secure. Safe to see you standing there. Happiness. Finally. It feels like a reward. The way his heart beats and his how his fingers start to shake. He wants nothing but to kiss you. But he can't.
I don't really know what I want but I do know that I want a little more
All he can do is grab onto your hands, kissing each of your knuckles. You giggle. Heaven to him.
"Maven Calore, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am (Y/N) Iral."
He stands up straight. Why can't he stop smiling? (Y/N) Iral, of course, it is. The most perfect Silver on the planet to him.
"(Y/N) Iral, your handwriting has brought me more happiness than the crown placed upon my head. It is nice to finally meet you."
"Ah, I wish I could say the same thing about yours."
He cackles, loving the sound of your voice. He imagined it for so long. Hearing your cunning insults in person is all he wanted.
All he wants now is to bend down to one knee and ask for your hand in marriage.
Of your attention, your love, please look me in the eyes while I try to make you (*beep*)
It is your turn to look up at the cameras. You grab his hands again, yanking him close to you. He stumbles. Classy for a king. He really is new to this.
You two are close. Noses almost touching. You're sure he can feel your heartbeat through your fingers but you don't care. You want to kiss him. He doesn't pull away. Does he want it to? Another flicker. Your pupils stare into the dilating dot on the camera. Not now.
You lean forward, placing a warm kiss on his cheek. You never look away from the camera as you do. Whoever is looking. Enjoy the show.
So just smile, yo please smile, look me in the eyes, hold it for a while
He pulls back, flustered as all hell. He tries to hide it but as much as his face can go emotionless, he still holds onto your hands.
"I hope you have already grown accustomed to your room?"
"My chambers are quite magnificent, thank you, Maven Calore."
"Maven will do fine."
"What? You don't like the way it comes from my lips?"
He smiles, running his tongue against his top teeth. You give him a sheepish grin, dipping your head in acknowledgment. You slip your fingers away from him and turn around, your strongarm turning around with you. He doesn't look at anyone. He is stiff.
Maven hops up to your side, body language open yet careful.
"Would you like to explore the city? Quite frankly, some of our best fruits and brea--."
You hold up your hand.
"No, thank you. I can go alone if I wish."
It's really, really weird to want the whole world to love you
Maven stops walking. You continue, heading back to your room.
Who are you?
Alone?
He squeezes his fists and internally groans. He turns around and looks at the security camera again. He feels like an idiot. That doesn't stop him from caring about the person he's been sending letters to since he was a teenager. It doesn't stop him from wanting to hold you tight. It doesn't stop him from wanting to give you the best wedding.
He knocks those thoughts out of his head.
It's far too early for that.
Why would you even want a wedding?
And I'm getting better at being better and being nice to my friends or whatever
You sit at your desk, holding a pen to your lips. You nibble on the ends of it. You like writing. You like holding the world in your fingers and altering whatever your mind wishes. You said you'd finish in at least two days. It's the second night. Perhaps you are almost done. Honestly, the proper term for where you are is halfway. Almost done is fine enough for you. You want to be finished now. You can't seem to find motivation. So you write about that.
Dear Maven Calore.
It sounds better spoken aloud. But you never had a way with words. Just a way with writing them. You guess it's official now. You're going to fall in love with him. Sharing a home, castle as it may be. It's so lovely. Not welcoming, just lovely. Each wall has its own poem attached to it. And you know Maven has his own poems regarding the place. But he was never much of a writer.
In his last letter to you, welcoming you into his world, stating something so important to you.
"I hope you find happiness."
It's really, really weird to have the whole world judge you
You walk through the dirty town. You hope you can buy a new pair of shoes. The mud. It rains here? Disgusting. The air is dry yet moist. A horrible mixture. You constantly look behind you and hope Maven doesn't find you creeping away without him. Just for the day. You even left your strongarm at home.
You look at all the types of loaves of bread, why are there so many?
You twiddle your fingers and go to grab one.
The seller waves your hand away. Almost disgusted. She looks at your outfit and then your skin. In that order. She can tell you aren't a high-class silver. She keeps her eye out regardless.
That's right. Around here it's a land of the best and the worst. There's no medium. No low-class silvers and no high-class reds.
You are on the other side now.
You tense your shoulders. Suddenly everyone is looking at you. You circle, feeling the eyes. You want to shout. You want to speak in the box they are all fitting you into. Monster? What do they even say about silvers anymore? Nothing that is true.
I'm gonna fuck the king, you want to say to them, so treat me with respect.
A man laughs next to you. You look at him. A silver, too. A Merandus? He's blonde. Ashe blonde. It doesn't matter to you, he can say and tell whatever he needs to to get his moment in the spotlight. You can tell his mother didn't love him growing up.
That should be a new rumor, you think as you start walking back to the castle, that silver mothers don't love their sons.
And they never get their flower crowns.
I'm really, really sorry that nobody understands
And that we treat you like that
With a yawn, you slip off your top layer. Maven stares in shock. He doesn't know where to put his eyes. You can sense it off of him. You can't feel him staring into your naked back. Why isn't he looking?
"Why do reds hate silvers?" You ask, pulling on some of his silk pajamas. The sleeves are long on you. The pants are elastic but you still have to pull it up to your waist.
"They're jealous."
Quick response. That's the answer a silver would say.
"That's not it."
"Why do you ask?"
You shrug, not turning around. You just stare into the mirror in his room. You can see the powder around your nose begin to crack.
"Maven Calore, I was just wondering. I'll go back to my room now."
Hands clench. Eyes water with tears. The moonlight outside peaks through the doorway, almost blocking your path. He stands up, holding out his hands to you. Please, stay with me tonight. Don't leave me here.
You have to. He has a security camera in his room. And you glance at it on your way out.
And we shouldn't be following you around all the time
That's pretty fucked up, dude
Servants open the door to the room. Your strongarm is there to shoo them out. You don't like it when people see you in the morning.
You sit at your table with a pen in your hand. You like writing. You write to hide away the things you can't say out loud. You begin to write. How are you ever not motivated? Sometimes you want to do things.
"I want to do this." You say out loud to nobody but yourself. Don't forget that you want to do this.
Your strongarm turns around, looking at your sleepy form.
"Are you going to put on your makeup soon?"
"Don't get jealous I look better in it than you do without."
He sniffs, turning back to the door. Tough crowd.
Not what about wanting people to love you and then they do and then they judge you and then your whole life falls apart
The ending of your passage can go any way. Rejection, or acceptance. You leave it open. Maven can finish it.
So you stand up from your desk, grabbing pebbles you collected from your journey outside, heading for the door.
"You are not dressed and you lack makeup." The strongarm reminds.
"I am well aware." You go for the door again but the strongarm holds out his hand, blocking you. "And I'm going."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to marry Maven Calore."
It's really, really weird and I'm tired of trying
Your strongarm doesn't respond right away, his hand still in your way. You can hear footsteps outside. You don't have a security camera in your room. You remember your strongarm holding you tight as a child, bringing you close. You remember his warmth. You remember him bringing you your favorite pair of boots when you were a child. They were leather, straight from the market. You remember the types of loaves of bread he would bring. You remember playing with his hair, even when it began to go gray.
You cross your arms. "Can you move out of my way?"
He looks down at you, hand purposely slipping and dropping to his side. You don't hesitate to open the door, running out into the hall. You feel free. You can smell Maven within his clothing. Silk. Is that his favorite material? You grip onto your sleeves as you run. You can feel the wind in your hair. This is heaven.
You throw a pebble at one of the security cameras, busting the glass. The particles fall onto the floor below you and blend within the hairs of the rug. Someone will find them later. You don't hesitate to do the same thing to the next one you find, and then the next one after that. Only one shot every time. No mistakes. You make your way over to Maven's room.
Really, really hard to get the whole world to like me
You run a hand across your pink-tinted face. Your hair, savage as it is, is smooth as you run a hand through it. Your face is bare. Maven will see you like this. It will be the first time presenting yourself. Those letters wrote about your ideal life. Royalty. Filled with life. Filled with charity.
You knock on Maven's door. You can't wait for him to open it. You curl your toes. You can't stop smiling. Why can't you stop smiling?
It's really, really weird but I really respect you
Maven opens the door, rubbing his eyes. It is early, isn't it? He squints when he sees you. He blinks. You can't stop smiling. Heart against heart, chest against chest. Your hands go around his neck and your lips go on his. You have one more pebble left. A simple toss above you. The glass raining down on the both of you ensure your safety.
Maven pulls away, looking at you.
All you do is hold out your papers, your autobiography. Your book about how you feel.
You've practically known Maven for all of your red life.
I'm not sure if they should see me as the guy that I am
Just that indecisive kid who really wants to be friends
Maven puts the pages down. It makes your heart skip. Read them. But he just looks at you. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your heart starts to beat. Nervous. You haven't felt nervous before. Not in a long while. What have you been missing?
He looks into your shiny eyes.
"Will you marry me, (Y/N) Iral?"
You open your mouth to respond but just let out a squeal. How can you respond? You grip onto his shirt, pulling him near to you. A happy ending. He didn't even read the pages.
My family's counting on me and I'm glad that they are
Because I can help them keep all their houses and cars
White. You really did decide to wear white on your wedding day. It almost makes you laugh. What does this mean to you now? Your strongarm looks at you from out in the hall, watching as the servants surround you. Painting your skin. Today, you don't mind. It's just for the world to know. Because you care what the world thinks.
"I think you forgot something." Your father, the strongarm, coos as he steps in. A red like you. It makes you smile.
"Father, why do reds hate silvers?"
He looks up, actually considering his answer.
"Because they don't have the strength like you to get what they want from the people that have it."
Chatter from outside offers your gaze a different direction. People. Mostly silver. You're going to become queen, aren't you? You giggly into your hands. The servant glances up at you. Doesn't say a word. That's because your father is right, isn't he?
But when the lights turn off
Will I still feel the same as I used to
"As I said before, you have forgotten something."
You close your eyes, squeezing your thumbs in your palms as your father approaches you. You bite your lips. You've been waiting for this moment since you were found alone, red-blooded and cold.
You open your eyes, looking up at the beautiful flower crown that rested on your head.
All the dreams we had
Will never be over