Finding himself desperately in love, Star cried hysterically, realizing that his heart is broken. Little Dark Prince said "you are too weird,” then excluded him from the book club and ignored him.  They had love-hate relationships, but it’s better than nothing at all, Star thought. Prince is not as simple as he seems at first glance. When he was growing up, his father never gave him much freedom and his mother carefully monitored his life. Now this guy drinks a lot of black coffee, wears perfect white shirts and vintage rings, quotes the work of Roman philosophers all the time. "Beware, naive baby. Star can melt your crown, pour gold down your throat, and drown you in the ocean, where you are going to die gasping in blood and water,” Black Currant Tree warned him once. Prince remembered her words and broke off any contact with the enfant terrible. Star was on the edge of a cliff, scared to death, but pushed off with his feet and took off. "I should always have prayed to Dionysus," he once told friends, pouring a glass of sparkling wine—" he protects the craziest of his sons."

Cold Northern Star hangs out in the same bar with the same people one night every week. These are his friends—his drinking buddies and his most concerned fans. "You'll drink yourself to the grave," they say, pouring him whiskey. They carry him to bed when the party's over, wiping the blood from his chin, preaching: "Alcohol eats away your soul." Star just laughs, watching the boys and the empty bottles around.

When Star is too drunk, he climbs up on the table, wanting to make a speech. When he is in the center of attention, right under the rays of angry glances, and on an unexpectedly sober head, he can say something sarcastic, toxic, aching to the bones and poison to the brain. "Beauty does not exist without ugliness," Star says, waving the bottle, "flowers wither, bodies rot, the sweetest of fruits become a haven for larvae. In nature, refinement goes with barbarism. How does society differ from nature?!" He doesn't see the worried faces and doesn't hear the whispers.

One morning Cold Northern Star was walking briskly towards the library, causing his robe to flutter in the air, leaving a ball of dark smoke behind him. Star was not seen for almost a month; he suddenly disappeared, leaving behind only la futilité. There were rumors in the city that he was in a hypnotic trance, and some people even thought that he committed suicide. But no, here he was, walking down the hallway of one of the buildings. Star's face was tired as if he had worked in a coal mine all month. Swollen, red eyes spoke of hours spent reading books in poor lighting. His heels clicked on the marble floor, attracting the attention of visitors who pressed themselves against the white walls to not get in the way of the fatal young man. Rage was flowing in his veins, almost bordering on madness. When he reached the library, he opened the heavy wooden doors and entered as if into his own home.

— Where? Where are you Little Dark Prince? You made me leave the book club, but you can't kick me out of here!

A golden-haired Prince was sitting between the rows in the section of ancient mythology, curiously looking at Star with his gray-blue eyes, as if he was waiting for this moment. For the past month, Prince had been dreaming about their goodbye: he imagined that in exile Star would shout that the wind reminds him of his voice, that Star would walk in his footsteps with bare feet until the end of time. Cold Northern Star, like a wolf, sensed this mockery and read his thoughts, humiliating his ego. Oh, that expression on Prince's face: it drives you crazy. For some, this grin is a nice gesture, but in fact, it means: "I'm better than you, fucking loser." Like he always knows what the future has in store for him. Although, apparently, he does. The sound of heels again. Star hangs over Prince.

— How are you doing? — Star sarcastically asked.

— Y-you here.

Prince looked up from below and continued:

— I missed you.

— Oh really? ... You son of a bitch! I will never forgive you. 

Little Dark Prince slowly got up from his seat and gently, but confidently, pressed Cold Northern Star against the bookcase and said:

— Even like this?

The next day they woke up together. 

— You know, sometimes I forget that you are a royal boy. It's good that literally everything in your room screams it.  

— Are you forgetting? Do you need reminders? Do you want me to wear a crown? I will give you orders.

— You already did last night. And you know, I liked it... 

The clanking of dishes in the kitchen distracted love birds.

— Is someone at home? I thought everyone was gone — Star said.

— Yes, it's Western Purple Rose, my roommate. Probably making coffee. Most likely for me and her. Sorry, we don't have vineyards yet to provide exclusive wine to impulsive heartthrobs — Prince ironically muttered into the curve of Star's neck.

The boys were just about to start kissing when Rose suddenly and noisily opened the door to the room.

— Good... Oh my God!

— Morning? — Prince continued.

— Damn, Rose, what are you wearing? — in his favorite manner, Star decided to change the subject. 

— Mostly the dog hair. 

No one even had a chance to say anything because a boxer dog named Gaitan burst into the room and jumped into bed. Prince immediately took the active pet into his arms and began to play with him. Star started hysterically laughing. It was as if he had just realized what had happened, where he was, and how much it all looked like a delusional soap opera: Rose was dressed in a tank top with flowers and flared green lurex pants; she had been standing at the door for twenty minutes with a cup of cooling coffee. The naked Prince and his funny dog were in bed with him, when yesterday they seemed to be enemies. By the way, Star is a cat person, but Gaitan touches his heart no less than newborn kittens. On the walls, there were maps of kingdoms and photos of all the castles that Prince owns or would like to buy. The bed creaked, their clothes were scattered on the floor, small spots of cum were very noticeable on the dark blue sheet. Felt like happiness. 

When the girl left the room and closed the door behind her, they looked at each other and laughed. 

— What are we going to do now? — Little Dark Prince asked.

— It would be nice to put on underwear for a start — Cold Northern Star responded with a grin.

— And then?

— And then we are going to the book club, I guess? ... Together now?