Royalty Gone Bad
Chapter 8: 8. The Prince In New York

Writer's POV:

The day came for the Prince, Djafar and Saïda, to leave. Asahd was very delighted with this 'good surprise' his parents have offered him.

"See you in some months. Hopefully by the time I return, you won't be all annoying as usual," Asahd mused, telling his parents.

"That's the reason why we're sending you on vacation," his father, explained. "We hope that by the time you return, our relationship with you will be healthier and better." "Yeah, we'll see."

The limo's door was opened and he was going to get in.

"Won't you kiss us, goodbye?" the Queen asked with a hint of disappointment in her tone.

Asahd rolled his eyes and walked up to her. He kissed her cheeks and did same to his father.

"Goodbye and until next time," he said.

"Bye, son."

He then turned to the guards and said:

"Make sure you put my bags in the second car."

"Yes, your Highness."

He got in the limo and drove off. The second car pulled up, that was going to be carrying Djafar and Saïda, as well as the two guards that would be in charge of carrying their bags. "Remember," the sultan told Djafar. "Be strict. Please make this work."

"Yes, your Highness," the man and his daughter bowed and entered the car.

They had nothing but tiny traveling bags with them that contained hygienic necessities and nightwear.

Two guards stepped out of the palace, carrying Asahd's huge bags.

"Don't put those in the car. He's not going with them. Take them back to my son's room," the sultan ordered and the confused guards, did as told.

The Queen then stepped towards the car and gave Djafar a tiny bag.

"Asahd's necessities. Toothbrush, towel, nightwear, and everything he'll be needing for a start. The clothes and so on, you'll buy as planned."

"Yes, your Majesty."

Too bad Asahd was lazy to pack his bags on his own. He'd ordered some maids to do so. And so, while he was out of his room, his mother packed his necessities in a different and tiny back. He had no idea! "Safe journey. Call us when you get there, and always keep us updated."

"We will."

***

The Prince and company boarded a plane to Casablanca which lasted only a few minutes. He still didn't notice he had no bags as he expected Djafar and Saïda to keep an eye on the luggage.

From Casablanca, they boarded a plane that would have no stopovers, straight for New York City. They had 7 hours and 43 minutes to get there. Asahd was so excited, as well as Saïda who already found the issue, very amusing.

They'd left Casablanca at 9AM and if everything went well, they would reach New York when it would be 4PM in Casablanca, but 11AM, in New York. Morocco had a time difference, being five hours ahead of New York.

***

Asahd looked out the window, from his first-class seat, down at the city of New York. He smiled to himself. He sure had a lot of plans for that busy city and promised to accomplish every single plan of his. Or so he thought.

"It looks great from up here," Saïda whispered to her father, looking out her window.

"And big," Djafar replied, reading a magazine.

"Yeah, kind of scary. I do hope we adapt without issues," she admitted. "Hopefully, nothing will go wrong."

"Nothing will go wrong, my dear."

He smiled at his daughter and she smiled back, feeling reassured. She had never left her country. Or Zagreh. She was the locked up type. She hated going out of her comfort zone, hated exploring and so on. Yet, there she was in New York city. She was afraid of not adapting to this new environment. She prayed for everything to go well. The fact that her father was with her, made her feel much better.

They landed in Manhattan at 11:43, glad to have had such a safe journey. Asahd was even happier to be there.

As they left the airport, they met an uber driver with a sign that indicated he was waiting for them. Djafar's contact had helped them with that.

Asahd took a deep breath, smiling proudly.

"I feel great, right now," he smiled, "Finally away from Zagreh and all the stupid rules."

Djafar in the meantime, approached the uber driver and gave him their tiny bags which he put in the boot.

"Where are my other bags?" Asahd asked.

"Inside, my prince. We have some help, bringing them in a cart." Saïda lied.

"Okay."

Djafar opened the door for him and he entered. Luckily, his parents called at that moment and he answered, reassuring them that they'd arrived safely. He did not even notice that no additional bags were brought along and put in the boot. After some minutes of staying outside and making him believe that they were supervising his bags, Djafar and Saïda, joined him in the car.

"Taken care of?" he asked them, covering his phone with a hand.

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Okay," he returned to speaking with his parents.

The driver joined them and soon they drove off.

At a point, Asahd requested that he stop so they would have breakfast at a chic café. Breakfast in New York. He felt so good.

After they'd all had a good meal, his last sophisticated breakfast, they returned to the uber and drove off.

"You reserved the rooms in that hotel I told you about, right?" Asahd asked Djafar.

"Of course."

Neither did he know that Djafar had already given their real address, to the driver. This was going to be fun.

They pulled up in an average and simple street, surrounded by tall buildings, all apartments. There were kids playing everywhere on the streets and people sitting in front of their buildings on stairways, chatting.

"What is this place?" Asahd asked with a frown.

"I have a contact here from whom I have to take something important," Djafar answered, pointing at the building in front of which they'd parked.

"But be fast," Asahd said, irritated. "I'll wait here."

"It's actually my brother," Djafar lied.

"Your brother? I didn't know you had one."

"Well, I have. He's lived here for a very long time now. I've told him a lot about you and he really wants to see you.”

"No way that I'm going in there," Asahd mused sarcastically.

"This is the only favor, I have ever asked you, Asahd. Please meet him." Djafar begged, knowing perfectly that Asahd had a soft spot for him.

Asahd eventually gave in.

"Alright. But not more than five minutes."

"Thank you, my Prince."

Djafar stepped out of the car first and Asahd followed. He led the Prince into the building while Saïda stayed back and grabbed the little bags. Then she paid the uber driver, who then drove off. Soon enough, she caught up with them.

***

The Prince followed Djafar and Saïda into the very old elevator.

"I hope this thing won't break," he muttered, feeling nervous.

"It won't."

"Hmm."

They got in and it took them to the fourth floor, where their new apartment was. They stepped out and Asahd followed them down the narrow corridor. They even came across future and new neighbors. Saïda and her father, greeted, while Asahd acted like he'd not even seen them.

Soon, they reached their door.

Djafar's contact had left the keys under the old mat in front of the door. A surprised Asahd watched Djafar get the keys and open the apartment door. They all stepped in.

The apartment was dusty. It already had furniture but the furniture was old and dusty. The couches were dusty, the little table and chairs in a corner, the little kitchen and the two windows that gave a view on the street. It wasn't bad and looked quite comfy, and would be, after some cleaning.

Without saying a word to Asahd, Djafar and his daughter went ahead to pick their rooms. The only one left was quite small and this meant, Asahd would have to deal with it. As planned.

"What's going on??" Asahd asked, once they were out of their rooms.

"Now that we're here, let me be honest," Djafar started.

"About??"

It was story time. Asahd listened, in shock, as Djafar told him the complete truth. He didn't even want to believe.

"Don't joke with me!" a furious Asahd, growled. "Don't!"

"It's no joke, Asahd. From now on, we won't treat you like royalty. You know why. I've explained everything," Djafar said, his chest a little heavy.

"What?! My parents, planned this?!" Asahd growled. "Where are my bags?! Where are they?!"

"This is all you've got," Saïda showed him the tiny bag. "Later during the day, we'll go shop and replace new clothes, sheets, utensils, gas and much more that is lacking in this apartment."

"You are crazy! There's no way I'm staying here! I don't believe you! Fuck you! I'm out!" he growled and left the apartment.

"Father, we should stop him!" Saïda said.

"He will have no choice but to return real soon. In the meantime, let's clean this place."

"Even his room?"

"Yes. It's just for today. After a few days, once he's taken it in, we'll do nothing for him."

"Hmmm, okay."

Asahd's POV:

My head was hurting and the anger I felt at the moment was undescribable. Was this some joke? What had my parents done!

I had a little money on me but not enough to rent a hotel room or travel back. I had to withdraw more.

I was even more shocked when I realised the uber driver was gone. This was really happening. My bags had stayed back in Zagreh. My expensive clothes and belongings. I'd come with nothing but what I had

on me!

"Taxi!" I shouted at a passing cab. It stopped and I got in. "Take me to an international bank or whatsoever! Hurry!"

The man stared at me.

"If you're gonna be rude, step the fuck out of my cab. Who do you think you are??" he retorted, making me realise the nightmare was real. I was nobody here!

"Please," I was literally shaking, unable to realise what was happening to me.

"Better," he scoffed and started the car.

***

"Sorry Sir, but as mentioned earlier, and yes I have crosschecked, your accounts have been closed," the woman behind the counter repeated and I tried not to pass out.

My parents had closed my foreign accounts! All of them!

"N-no."

I got out in the streets and tried to call them. My father picked.

"What is this?!" I growled, shouting and causing the people in the streets to stare at me in wonder.

"A test. For your own good."

"You can't do this to me! You can't!"

"You'll see that it's for your best interest. And until you change sincerely, you're staying there."

"How dare you?! Why are-"

He hung up on me and I grew mad.

"FUCK YOU!" I cried out, throwing my expensive phone on the ground and crashing it.

'Boy, you have no more money to get a new one!' A voice rang in my head and my eyes widened, fear taking over me. Immediately rushed to pick my phone and its parts. Too bad the screen was now badly cracked.

"NO! Are you kidding me?!"

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