Spending time with number twenty-five is something I always look forward to. He doesn't really complain about the whole kidnapping thing too much.

Turns out he had a pretty sour life. In a lot of people's eyes, he was ugly. He was disgusting, a creep, a pig. He tried the whole exercise thing and lost a good amount of weight yet people still despised him. He got beat up a lot and they took any money he had in his pockets.

It's why he enjoys being here. It's kind of a rare occurrence in my... palace. I enjoyed his staying two. Here I could relax and be me.

To the outside world, I'm this rich, completely straight man with a palace who donates to the poor because I care about them.

{And I do, actually.)

But what's the world thinking, really? Do they really think that a real prince exists? No, I'm a man with money and a miserable life, keeping twenty-six people in the hidden part of my home. People, even the press, all want to visit me at my house. Of course, they expect a nice, elegant, princely, and straight man, aspects which they all like in a guy. The LGBTQ+ community here is accepted, but they prefer a "perfect" prince. I need the money to feed the poor people they all ignore. They let them suffer just because they cannot bring money to the world.

A few days ago, I pitched an idea about making a palace or a neighborhood for poor people only. Of course, I know that people will think this is a good way to drop their jobs, burn their houses down, get in debt on purpose, and act like they have been poor for months, when all they're doing is throwing everything away for a good and free living. I've always thought about this.

You don't take what is being given to others. You keep what has been given to you. That's how I see it.

I'll probably just hold a convention for feeding homeless people along with giving away free clothes. And there, at that moment, with as much homeless people as I can gather, I will tell them that I want to give them homes and good life. Yeah, I told this all to twenty-five. My mouth is like a volcano; once it begins to erupt, it's impossible to stop it.

He sees that I am a princely man and, in a way, also someone who just wants to be anything without thinking about it. Twenty-five and I have thought about it lately, how I am the king of the so-called castle I live in and how I treat him like royalty, similar to how I live. His own name makes him cry so, for now, he is Twenty-five.

I'm wondering if I should call him Prince. Is he just a princely man on the outside as I am, or is he the real prince here? Well, today I'm going to spend time with him for I've just been in my room, staring at the wall for a long time.