What freedom feels like

The hum of the final bell still rang in their ears as Vi stood near the classroom door, waiting patiently with Caitlyn’s stack of textbooks balanced in her arms - a quiet act of chivalry. Caitlyn lingered by the professor’s desk for a quick clarification on an upcoming assignment, casting grateful looks at Vi whenever she glanced over. Once she finished, Cait joined Vi with a small smile and took her books back, their hands brushing ever so slightly.

Together, they slipped out into the hallway, weaving through the current of seniors eager to kick off the weekend. With only their notes and textbooks in hand, they headed toward their lockers. After all, Cait still needed to grab the overnight bag she’d stashed away that morning - a sure sign of how serious both of them were about the plans they’d made for tonight.

Their excitement was palpable, but so were the nerves; a fluttering tension neither wanted to name. After Vi grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder she led the way to Cait’s locker, where Cait stowed her textbooks and grabbed her overnight things. They shared an awkward smile that said I’m excited, but there are so many butterflies in my stomach I can hardly think straight.

“Good to go?” Vi asked, stuffing her hands into her hoodie pockets. Her posture was casual, but Caitlyn could see the tension in her shoulders.
“Yeah,” Cait replied softly. She looped the bag’s strap across her chest and looked up at Vi, her blue eyes flickering with both anticipation and anxiety.

They threaded their way out of the building, the sun starting to dip into the horizon - perfect timing to head straight to Vi’s house and get ready for the rave. As they reached the familiar path that led to Vi’s trellis climb, Vi suddenly stopped, placing a soft hand on Cait’s shoulder.

“Uh-uh,” Vi said, her grin crooked but warm. “Cait, my family’s gonna meet you tonight whether it’s now or in a couple of hours… let’s just go through the front door.”

Cait’s eyes widened. She swallowed thickly as she turned to face Vi properly. Meeting Vi’s family? She’d been trying not to think about it, but the reality collided with her imagination, sending her heart into overdrive. Still, she forced a confident tilt of her chin. “Oh, thank God,” she said with exaggerated relief, hoping humour might mask her nerves. “I’m sick of climbing up the wall like a bloody monkey.”

Vi chuckled, reaching out to lace her fingers through Cait’s. The gesture felt more natural now, but it still made both girl’s hearts skip a beat. Hand in hand, they walked around the side of the house, the crunch of gravel underfoot seeming almost too loud in the still afternoon. Cait could feel each inhale and exhale, steeling herself for the possibility that someone inside might—will—recognise her. Part of her hoped they wouldn’t, Vi’s obliviousness about her royal identity had been a source of unexpected freedom. But another part of her understood this charade couldn’t last forever.

They paused at the front step, Vi glanced at Cait, noticing her stiff posture. “Ready?” she asked, voice a little softer than usual.

Cait nodded, exhaling all her tension in one shaky breath. “As I’ll ever be.”

With that, Vi pushed the door open, the warmth of the house spilling out to greet them. Cait tightened her grip on Vi’s hand, determined not to let her terror show - at least not until she crossed the threshold and met the people who had shaped Vi into the girl she’d come to really like.

Please don’t recognise me, Cait silently prayed as they stepped inside. Then she steeled her nerves, reminding herself that even if they did, what mattered most was the person whose hand she was holding.

Vi pushed open the front door, calling out a casual “Hello?” to the seemingly empty house. Nothing but silence greeted them.

“That’s… weird,” Vi muttered, furrowing her brow. Letting go of Cait’s hand, she dug her phone out of her hoodie pocket and hit Powder’s contact.

On the other end, Powder picked up after only one ring. “Finally! Where are you, Vi?”

Vi let out a short laugh. “I was about to ask you the same thing—where are you guys? The house is creepily quiet.”

“Oh, Vander picked us up from school, we’re stocking up on supplies for tonight,” Powder said with a dramatic sigh. “Vander wanted to grab snacks and drinks, but Ekko’s moving at a snail’s pace, choosing soda flavours. I swear, at this rate, we’ll be old by the time he decides between cola or raspberry.”

Vi glanced at Cait, who was busy examining one of the posters in the hallway, oblivious to the conversation. “Right. So then, Claggor? Mylo?”

“Mylo has detention, again—mouthing off to Mrs Young, shocker,” Powder said, and Vi could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “And Claggor forgot the shirt he wants to wear tonight at his girlfriend’s place, so they’re hunting it down. Meanwhile,” she continued, voice turning sly, “I am over here dying to meet your special friend you’ve been hiding in the attic all this time.”

Vi groaned, pressing a hand over her face. “Pow, can you not make such a big deal out of this?”

“Big deal, small deal—whatever.” Powder’s voice bubbled with excitement. “She’s obviously important, or you wouldn’t be sneaking her into the house to study… or study,” she teased. “I’m telling you, I need to meet this person who’s got you acting like yourself again, like yesterday!!.”

Vi pivoted away so Cait wouldn’t see her turning beet-red. “Pow, it’s not—just text me when you get back, alright? I’ll come downstairs, we’ll grab the booze or whatever, and then maybe—maybe—I’ll introduce you.”

“Um, you definitely will be – or you can’t come to the Rave.” Powder’s laughter was bright. “I’m meeting her, Vi. Don’t you dare deprive me of that.”

Vi hissed under her breath, cheeks burning. “Okay, fine. Now shut up so I can hang up before you annoy me even more.”

“Oooh, so easy to fluster,” Powder teased, and Vi could hear her giggling. “Later, sis.”

With that, Vi ended the call and stuffed her phone into her hoodie pocket, trying to ignore the fact that her face felt like it was on fire. She risked a glance at Cait, relieved to see she hadn’t overheard the conversation.

“Everything alright?” Cait asked, her voice quiet.

“Yeah. They’ll be back soon,” Vi explained. “Powder, well uh, she’s… excited to meet you.”

Cait flinched, though she tried to hide it behind a shaky smile. “Excited, huh? Great. Me too. But, uh, I’m, um… actually a bit relieved they’re not here yet. Quite terrified to meet them all.”

Vi stepped closer, almost without thinking, and rested her hand gently against Cait’s cheek. The motion felt natural to them now, like something they’d been doing forever. “You don’t have to be scared,” Vi murmured. “They’re gonna love you.”

Inside, Cait’s heart did a somersault. The affectionate gesture, the promise in Vi’s eyes—it was too much in the best possible way. But she forced herself to breathe, to keep her cool.

“Come on,” Vi said, dropping her hand and nodding toward the stairs. “I’ve got something to calm your nerves.”

They headed up the steps to the attic, the space brimming with familiarity.

 Moving into the small adjoining bathroom, Vi emerged a moment later, triumphantly holding a half-full bottle of vodka.

Cait’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooh, going straight to the hard stuff?”

Vi waggled the bottle in a mock flourish. “We have, like, two hours max before everyone comes home and the chaos starts. Might as well loosen up a bit, calm your nerves?”

“Fair enough,” Cait said, a nervous laugh trailing her words. She watched Vi dash back downstairs to fetch cups and lemonade. Left alone with the bottle, Cait felt the tension in her chest bubble over into boldness. She twisted off the cap and took a swig directly from the bottle. The alcohol burned on its way down, and she let out a small cough. Still, the warmth spreading through her felt… good.

When Vi returned with a shot glass, some cups, and a bottle of lemonade, she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide. “Holy fuck, princess. That’s… that’s kind of attractive.”

Caitlyn only laughed, handing the bottle to Vi. “Don’t be jealous,” she teased, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Besides, you left me alone with the bottle – what did you expect?”

Vi shook her head, biting back a grin. “We’ll make some proper mixed drinks,” she offered, pouring out a measure of vodka and topping it with lemonade. “No more of this barbaric straight-from-the-bottle business.”

While Vi carefully portioned their drinks, Cait pulled out her portable speaker. Within moments, the deep, rhythmic beats of Fred again.. filled the attic. She started explaining his discography—where he got his samples, which tracks were fan favourites, and how one song in particular was guaranteed to make any crowd go wild. Vi listened intently, nodding and throwing in the occasional snarky comment, though she genuinely seemed interested in Cait’s enthusiasm.

Time slipped by—an hour, at least. Three drinks later, Cait was sprawled near the foot of the bed, cheeks flushed and words spilling out in giggly bursts. Vi, only slightly tipsy, sat cross-legged beside her. The physical space between them had shrunk to almost nothing, their legs brushing now and then.

Cait then found herself sat up, leaning on Vi’s shoulder, laughing about some silly anecdote from English class. Each small touch sent a thrill through Vi’s chest, a gentle reminder of how close they were in every sense. Cait had managed to slowly sink her spinning head into Vi’s lap as Vi’s hands found their way into her hair.

They were in the middle of a playful debate over whether Fred’s latest remix surpassed his original track, each of them a bit buzzed and giggling - when the attic door burst open without warning. No knock, no footsteps - just a sudden clatter of hinges and an explosion of Powder’s excited presence.

Vi froze, very aware of their positions – Caitlyn was currently half-reclined across her lap, with one of Vi’s hands absently stroking through Cait’s hair. Their heads snapped around in unison, eyes going wide as Powder stood gaping at the threshold.

“Powder!” Vi sputtered, her cheeks flaring hot. “Get out—what the fuck?”

Powder’s face went through several transformations all at once: delight, shock, confusion, then a sudden draining of colour. Her gaze flitted from Vi to Caitlyn, locking onto Cait’s features like she recognised something crucial.

Caitlyn, far more intoxicated than Vi, registered that same realisation in Powder’s eyes. She knows. Time seemed to slow as Powder’s mouth hung open, her expression flitting somewhere between awe and sheer disbelief.

“I—I’m… I’m so sorry,” Powder mumbled, stumbling backward. “I’ll just—be downstairs. In my room.” And she darted out, shutting the door behind her with a forceful click.

For a moment, neither Vi nor Cait moved. Then Caitlyn slowly eased herself off Vi’s lap, her heart hammering so hard she could hear it in her ears. She knew she had to come clean. The guilt of her secrecy had gnawed at her for weeks, and now it was all unravelling.

Vi swallowed, her voice a ragged whisper. “I—I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.” Before Caitlyn could respond, Vi got up and followed Powder, her boots thudding heavily on the attic stairs as she disappeared out of sight.

Alone, Caitlyn closed her eyes, a wave of nausea and fear sweeping through her. She clutched her head, reeling from alcohol and sudden panic. This is it. She could already imagine Vi’s reaction once she realized exactly who Caitlyn was.

Needing something—anything—to steady her, Caitlyn snagged the bottle of vodka, taking another long pull. It burned, but she hardly noticed, her thoughts spinning. She forced herself to stand, moving unsteadily to the adjoining bathroom on the far side of the attic. Splashes of cold water against her cheeks did little to calm the tempest of nerves inside her.

Staring at her reflection, she saw the flush on her cheeks and the dread in her eyes. I should’ve told her sooner. With one last gulp of air, she lifted the vodka again, swallowing another mouthful to brace herself for whatever came next. And then she waited, pulse roaring, for the sound of Vi’s footsteps returning—knowing that with each second, her entire world might be about to change.

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Powder sat on her bed, phone gripped tightly in her hands, scrolling through TikTok with an almost frantic energy. Every swipe brought another photo, another video—each one making her stomach twist uncomfortably. She kept hoping she’d stumble on evidence that proved her wrong, that maybe it was just a coincidence. But every new angle, every close-up shot of the so-called “Princess Caitlyn Kirraman” only confirmed what she already knew. The girl she’d just walked in on, lying in Vi’s lap, was absolutely the same person.

She heard the door slam open, and Vi’s voice filled the room. “Pow, what the hell was that?!” Vi snarled, eyes blazing. “You can’t just barge in like that—you said you’d text!”

Powder tore her gaze from the phone and gulped. “I know, I know,” she said hastily. “I’m sorry! I was just excited, and I—” She stopped herself, realising she was the one with the bigger bombshell here. “But forget that for a second. Do you know who that girl is?”

Vi threw her hands up, her anger shifting to confusion. “What do you mean, who she is? She’s—she’s Cait.” Her voice trailed off, noticing the intensity in Powder’s eyes. “Pow, what’s going on?”

Wordlessly, Powder hopped off the bed, thrusting her phone toward Vi. The screen showed a picture of Caitlyn in full regal attire, crowned and posed for an official portrait. Beneath it was a headline referencing her 18th coming-of-age ceremony in England last year. Vi’s forehead creased.

“Princess… of England?” Vi read, her tone bewildered. “That’s not—she never—” She glanced up at Powder, pulse racing. “Hold on, you’re telling me that Cait is… this Caitlyn Kirraman?”

“Bingo,” Powder replied, a mix of awe and trepidation. “Wait- so you really didn’t know?” Powder went back to scrolling through the images to show Vi other images she stumbled upon.

Vi shook her head so hard she nearly gave herself whiplash. “No! Of course not! She never told me. Why would she hide that she’s a princess? And what’s she even doing here, shouldn’t she be in England?”

Powder grimaced, then swiped her phone screen. “She originally got moved here because of some public threats at the start of the year, and then just a few weeks ago, got caught in this massive scandal,” she said, pulling up a photo. “Some revenge porn got leaked. It was all over social media—front-page gossip everywhere.”

Vi’s breath caught as she stared at the blurred but undeniably intimate image of Cait’s chest, complete with a sensational headline referencing a royal scandal. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, torn between shock and a pang of sympathy.

“You didn’t hear about it?” Powder asked, raising an eyebrow. “I guess you’ve been living in your vintage lifestyle bubble. But yeah—this is why everyone online was talking about her. It’s probably why she went MIA for a while.”

Vi’s heart clenched. The puzzle pieces slid together: the weeks Cait missed, the guilt in her eyes, the reluctance to share anything personal. “So, she’s been carrying all that around,” Vi said quietly, her anger and confusion morphing into a protective ache. A wave of guilt rushed through her. She remembered her own experiences—though nowhere near as public—feeling exposed and vulnerable. Her voice wavered. “She didn’t consent to that. People just… violated her privacy like that.”

Powder’s heart softened at the sight of Vi, raw with empathy. “Vi, I’m so sorry for barging in,” she whispered, noticing Vi’s eyes were wandering. “If you’re this freaked out, maybe go talk to her before you combust, okay?”

Just then, Ekko’s voice echoed down the hall. “Vi! Where are you? Vander wants you to grab the drinks for pres!” He appeared in the doorway, offering a friendly grin. But it slipped a notch at Vi’s pale face. “You alright?”

Vi’s gaze darted between Powder and Ekko. “I… I’m fine. Sort of.” She took a step forward, then paused. The questions and revelations were crashing in her mind at light speed. “I’m gonna—uh—I need to—” She shook her head, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Powder laid a hand on her arm. “Go,” she said gently. “Talk to her. It’ll be okay.”

Ekko, still holding a four-pack of premixed drinks, looked on quizzically as Vi snatched them up. Without another word, she headed back toward the attic stairs, her thoughts in a frenzy.

Once Vi was out of earshot, Ekko turned to Powder, eyebrows lifted. “Seriously, what was that about?”

Powder let out a long breath. “That was my sister finding out her ‘mysterious friend’ is actually a princess of England.”

Ekko nearly dropped his drinks. “Princess of what?!”

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Vi climbed the attic steps in a daze, clutching the 4-pack of drinks in her trembling hands. Ten minutes ago, Caitlyn had been just some British girl sitting in her lap, and now, she was the Princess of England, an international figure caught in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. Vi’s mind whirled, the vodka buzz intensifying everything: her heartbeat, the soft hum of music, the spinning questions about what this new revelation meant.

She found Caitlyn in the small adjoining bathroom. The light above the mirror flickered against the white tiles, and Caitlyn was perched on the edge of the sink’s cupboard, looking subdued. At Vi’s approach, she glanced up, her expression raw but relieved to see her. Vi swallowed, setting the drinks on the bed as she headed for the bathroom, and moved to stand between Caitlyn’s legs. The proximity was dizzying—heat radiated off them both, and the alcohol made them all too oblivious to how close they really were.

“Cait,” Vi began, voice wavering. “I… Powder showed me.”

Caitlyn’s eyes flicked with recognition. She knew exactly what Vi meant. “The pictures?” she whispered, her cheeks colouring. Even through her own buzz, the shame bit at her.

“Yeah,” Vi confirmed, exhaling shakily. “Powder was looking into who you were, and—she showed me that… stuff. Your… your chest.” Vi’s words tangled in her throat, a mix of sympathy, panic, and embarrassment. “I wouldn’t have looked, I swear. It’s just—she shoved her phone in my face, and I…” She trailed off, her own cheeks burning scarlet.

Caitlyn reached out and rested a hand on Vi’s shoulder, steady despite her own nerves. “You didn’t know,” she said, tender but firm. “And you had no control over any of it.”

“But I’m so sorry,” Vi pressed, voice hushed. “You shouldn’t have had that out there for anyone to see, It’s wrong. And I didn’t even know about your… your title.” She gave a desperate little laugh, shaking her head. “All this time, you were a princess, and you never told me.”

Caitlyn took a breath, looking down at her hands braced on either side of the sink. “I didn’t want to be a princess. Not here, anyway,” she said softly. “I liked… I liked being nobody to you. Not an heir or a scandal, just… a girl you liked talking to.”

Vi’s gaze flicked upward, her eyes stinging with more than just the remnants of vodka. She laid both hands on Caitlyn’s thighs, rubbing gentle circles over her soft skin. “I still like talking to you,” she murmured, voice thick. “All of you. Princess or not.”

Caitlyn’s lips curved into the faintest smile, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. “That leak—those photos—it made me feel powerless - like I had no say in anything to do with my own body, my life. Everyone was gawking, judging. I didn’t tell you because… I wanted to hold onto this little oblivious bubble - where I wasn’t defined by that humiliation.”

Vi’s heart twisted. She had her own secrets, too. She found courage in the closeness, in the gentle sway of Cait’s knees against her hips. “I get it,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I—I mean… maybe not on that scale, but I know what it’s like to be exposed without your say-so.”

Caitlyn blinked at her, letting the words sink in. Vi drew a shaky breath. “I was outed,” she said, nearly tripping over the word. “Someone posted pictures of me and my—my ex. She got harassed a lot worse than me. And one day… she couldn’t handle it. She took her life.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened, brimming with sympathy. “Oh, Vi,” she murmured, sliding one hand to the back of Vi’s neck. “I’m so sorry.”

Vi shut her eyes against the sting of tears, leaning in until their foreheads touched. They both paused, breathing each other in, the quiet hum of electricity in that small bathroom pressing in on them. “It nearly wrecked me,” Vi confessed. “Ever since, I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length. You’re the first person I’ve let in, and…”

“And now you’re finding out I’m not who you thought I was,” Caitlyn finished gently.

“No,” Vi corrected, opening her eyes and searching Caitlyn’s. “You’re exactly who I thought you were. Just with a different last name.”

Relief and gratitude fluttered across Caitlyn’s face. Their foreheads stayed pressed together for a heartbeat longer until Caitlyn, lost in the swirl of alcohol and emotion, broke the moment by pulling away and gesturing to the vodka bottle. “Want a sip?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eye despite the heaviness of their conversation.

Vi scrunched her nose, giving Cait’s legs a playful squeeze before stepping back. “I’ll pass, your royal hammeredness,” she teased. “Hold on.” She dashed into the main room of the attic and returned, holding out a cold can of pre-mixed something. “Here—be careful with that stuff,” She took the bottle from Cait’s hands and sat it on the other side of the bench out of her reach. “If you keep taking shots, you’ll never make it to the rave.”

They clinked their drinks together and let a moment of quiet settle between them, the music thrumming faintly from the other room. In the cramped bathroom, Cait stayed perched on the edge of the sink, her legs dangling while the vodka worked its way through her veins. She could hardly string a sentence together without slurring, but she still managed a grin at the sight of Vi giving a little boogie in the limited space.

Vi swayed and spun in a small circle, swishing her hips to the beat, an amused smile tugging at her lips as she watched Cait’s attempt to follow along from her makeshift seat. Each giggle from Cait was more unguarded than the last, the alcohol loosening tensions into a haze of lightheaded glee.

Eventually, Cait lifted her half-empty can, blinking slowly. “I’m… I’m so wasted,” she mumbled, suppressing a laugh at her own words. Vi just laughed softly in return, taking another sip of her drink before placing a steadying hand on Cait’s knee to keep her from sliding off the countertop. Together, they enjoyed the playful calm in that tiny bathroom, letting the world—and their many worries—stay on the other side of the door a little while longer.

For Vi, it was the first time she’d spoken so openly about her past: the heartbreak, the betrayal, the lingering guilt. Each word felt like a weight lifting from her chest. And for Caitlyn, it was liberating to feel understood, to share her pain without fear that someone would try to manage her or exploit her story. They were just two girls healing, finding some solace in each other’s company.

Caitlyn leaned her head on Vi’s shoulder, letting out a slow exhale. The swirl of vodka made the edges of everything soft, but for the first time in weeks, she felt steady—even with the knowledge that meeting Vi’s family, and the broader world, was still ahead. She closed her eyes, comfortable in the hush of that closeness, the rumble of music in the background, and Vi’s hand gently tracing patterns across her arm.

A moment later, a small laugh escaped her, and Caitlyn eased back against the bathroom counter, waving her half-empty can. “Still have nothing to wear,” she lamented, giggling lightly as Vi slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close in the cramped space.

“Oh, right!” Vi exclaimed, tapping a quick kiss on top of Cait’s head as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The motion brought a new flush to Caitlyn’s cheeks, but neither of them seemed to care—or notice—how close they were. “Stay put and look pretty, princess,” Vi teased, pulling away in a rush of energy. “I’ll be right back!”

She stumbled down the attic steps, the combination of nerves and alcohol making her a bit clumsy. Powder’s room was only a short hop away, and Vi threw the door open to find Powder and Ekko sprawled on the bed, each sipping a can of pre-mixed booze. They froze guiltily, mid-laugh.

“Uh, hello?” Vi quipped, swaying slightly. “You two are sixteen—aren’t you too young to be drinking?”

Powder rolled her eyes, taking another sip. “Vander said we could have a couple for pres,” she retorted as if that explained everything. Ekko just shrugged, looking sheepish.

Vi shook her head, amused, but too focused on her mission to really scold them. She honed in on Powder’s wardrobe and flung it open, rifling through the hangers with determined zeal. “Where is it…?”

“Hey sis, uh, Whatcha doing?” Powder asked, more curious than offended. She sat up on her knees. “You can’t just rummage through my clothes without asking.”

“It’s for Cait,” Vi explained, pulling out one top after another. “She needs an outfit. She’s smaller than me, so none of my stuff'll fit—at least, not in the way it’s supposed to.”

Ekko snorted from the bed. “Wikipedia says she’s, like, six feet tall, though. You’re… not six foot.”

Vi scowled good-naturedly, chucking a random shirt at him. “Shut up! I’m way more muscular. It balances out.” She paused to flex her bicep dramatically, drawing laughs from both Powder and Ekko. “And anyway, she’s got a leaner frame. We’ll make it work.”

Ekko held the shirt Vi had just thrown, eyeing it in confusion. “Sure, sure,” he said, tossing it aside. “But, for real, are we all just cool with the literal Princess of England chilling in your attic? Like, bro—how’d you even pull that off?”

“Not thinking about it,” Vi replied, her cheeks still rosy from both vodka and adrenaline. “I’ll freak out if I do.” She snatched a black cropped tee from a hanger and gave it a pleased nod. “Yes! This one!” Catching sight of a short, flouncy skirt, she grabbed that too. “Perfect. Thanks, Pow!”

Powder just shook her head, smirking. “You’re welcome. Go, run along now.”

“Thank you, I owe you one!” Vi all but shouted, hurrying back toward the door. She made a beeline for the stairs, a giddy flutter in her chest at the thought of seeing Caitlyn in the outfit—feeling only the slightest waver of anxiety about, well, everything else.

Ekko stared after her. “So… we’re not talking about how she’s hooking up with a princess?”

Powder snorted, taking another swig. “We’re too sober for that conversation,” she muttered, and they both burst into hysterical laughter.