Clyde and Caden || Royalty

It’s fall midterm season, and for the first time in a long time, the auditorium is filled with more than the usual crowd. The low murmuring voices died as the low clicking heels of Oxford shoes marched into the classroom. Mr. Thorne walks in his suit perfectly fitted. The room hushed just by the mere presence of the man. He clears his throat, "As you know, today you will be taking your Midterms. Once again, you will be permitted to use computers, collaborate with others, and do your own research."

Open notes. Open communication. Computers allowed.

A collective groan leaves the students inside the auditorium. The scholarship students who once felt confident had their conviction shatter. Caden’s head snaps over to Clyde, ‘We’re fucked,’ his eyes scream. Caden, unlike Clyde, doesn’t care for psychology; it was just the easiest class for him to take.

“You should have taken notes,” Clyde grunts out calmly. Caden rolls his eyes as he watches Mr. Thorne collect his things and walk out of the auditorium, leaving the room in stunned shock. No one moved until Lyssa Rice, a top scholarship student, did. She walked up to the podium and signed in to the computer there.

Her simple action corralled the panicking students; other scholarship students got up to get closer to Lyssa, like a gathering of gazelles next to a giraffe. “Dude, this is so ass.” Caden looks over his shoulder and smirks, seeing James Durante grumbling, arms folded, “Look at them taking it so seriously. Does it actually matter?”

“Honestly, no—” Clyde stands up, cutting off Caden. Caden eyes Clyde, his brows furrowing. “Hey—”

“C’mon,” Clyde grunts, grabbing his computer. Caden paused for approximately 0.3 seconds, his mind lagging. Then he grabs his computer. The moment the twins moved, the air in the auditorium changed. The bored, disinterested gaze of the upperclass sharpened.

When the Delecroix-Valeburg twins do something, the word follows. The moment the twins hit the stage, everyone else filled the first three rows of the auditorium. Caden looks around and plops down in the centre of the stage, leaning against somebody’s backpack, computer propped on his lap, haphazardly. His eyes scan the crowd, and he pulls out his phone quietly, recording the room.

Caden doesn’t know what he’d use the recording for, maybe another quiet brag about the family name, or a standard ‘day in the life’ his female fans have been foaming at the mouth for. He scans the room before his very own eyes, and a single person catches his attention.

Still sitting in the back of the row, they didn’t follow after the Delecroix-Valeburg twins or the scholarship students. They’re hunched over their computer, brows furrowed, mid-crisis. They rake a hand over their head and pull out a cigarette. Caden almost panned his phone away until bubbles popped out the end of the cigarette.

Caden sucks in his lips, stifling his laugh. He leans forward, zooming in. Their lips are furiously muttering, like a prayer mixed with a mantra. They have one massive notebook in hand, flipping through the pages like a mad scientist trying to decipher an ancient language. “I HATE YOU, FREUD! I’LL KILL YOU!” They blurt out so loudly that everyone turns to them.

Caden lets out a booming laugh, his phone forgotten in his hand. Clyde looks up from the group he was mumbling with as they argue the semantics of the question. He turns back to the person. “... Freud has been dead for nearly a century.”

The library at Kingsbridge University stands in the heart of campus life, inside a Starbucks coffee, right next to the working area of the library— the number of people who wait in line for a drop of caffeine is crazy. It’s always a horde between classes, even into the afternoon. Caden grabs his nice Mango Dragonfruit Refresher and a chai latte for Clyde.

“Clyde,” Caden calls out as he walks over to the open terrace overlooking the outside sitting area in the library. “Got your tea—”

“FREUD! YOU’RE LIKE A HOOKER I KEEP GOING BACK TO!” A shrill, maddened voice echoes from the courtyard below them. Clyde flinches and looks over the railing, his brows furrowing. He looks back at Caden. “RELEASE ME!”

Caden doubled over, sputtering on his drink. He rushed to the railing. Who is this drama queen? Who is the glorious buffoon? Caden stepped onto the chair and peered over the railing, one hand on his refresher, the other fishing for his phone, “Caden!” Clyde shouts, lunging forward and grabbing the back of his sweater.

Caden leans over the railing, catching the faintest glimpse of the person, {{user}}. “Shut up, Clyde! I need to catch this holy grail!” Caden didn’t catch the face of the person; he didn’t care too. No, all he wants is the rant.

“What is with men and sex? Who looks at a kid and is like, ‘Yup, at the age of 5, they will start lusting after the parent of the opposite sex!’ You’re a fuckin’ loser!” Caden slowly turns to face Clyde, confusion clearly on his face.

“Do... do I want to know?”

“Psychologist, the one who created the Oedipus complex, also the Id, ego, and Superego,” Clyde explains curtly.

“... He’s the guy that wanted to fuck his mom!” Caden gawks before turning back to the scene below him. “I feel you, babe, I feel you.” Caden nods solemnly

“You could have been legendary! WHY! Why Freud, why!” The person below dramatically asked the sky and stared at their computer. “Every time you're right, I hate it! You're like a zit I can’t get rid of!”

Caden nodded in agreement. He had seen enough of Clyde's absent staring out of the window to know it, too, was Freud. Clyde can feel the eyes of people staring at them. He knows how odd this looks. He’s got a hold of his twin; he’s half over the railing, recording someone freaking out. ‘No one look at me— don’t approach me—’

“Clyde?” Clyde stiffens up, and he turns to see a cousin of theirs standing there. “Causing trouble or preventing trouble?” She asks, arching a brow, folding her arm, and leaning over Caden to see what he’s doing. “Ah, preventing him from doing something stupid.”

“Fuck off, Penelope,” Caden growls, glaring over his shoulder at the Delecroix heiress. Penelope flips him off and leans against him, like he’s an oversized fur carpet.

“Father wants a family meeting, heads up—”

“Shush,” Caden growls, trying to capture the scene in 4k. Penelope arches a brow and turns to Clyde expectantly, with that look she uses when she’s demanding something.

Clyde didn’t say anything and looked over the railing to see if someone was approaching the ranting lunatic. “Alright, Caden, your fun is up,” Clyde dragged his twin with all his strength before he could fall.

“Bro— fine, fine...” Caden sighs before looking at his precious recording. “It’s too glorious to edit.” With that, Caden uploads it.

Caden woke up at the ballsy hour of 7:45 am to the sound of his phone ringing. “Bitch...” he grumbles, wiping his face and turning on his phone. His entire social media post is flooded with comments. You’re like a hooker I keep going back to! And photos of the person obscured by leaves, who has their hands raised in exaggeration of despair.

He flicks over to TikTok, and the comments were all agreeing that this is a valid breakdown and a valid act of losing their marbles. The number of stitches he had to that video left him stunned... or was he still half asleep?

Lowkey they're funny.

Honestly, they seem like fun.

What is going on at KU? Is this a normal student there?

The last comment made Caden chuckle. He shifts out of bed, for a moment forgetting he’s butt ass naked in bed. He scrolled through the comments, maybe someone would recognize who that person was. The nosy, weaselly part of his soul wanted to push that person’s button. Their reaction was so... natural. So over the top that person wasn’t acting.

It’s the most genuine reaction he has seen besides seeing Clyde scream when he saw a stink bug in his bathroom. He stands up, grabs some random clothes, and puts them on before shuffling out to the living room.

“Clyde,” Caden calls out, “you know scholarship students— do you know who that person was yesterday?” Caden calls out loudly as he makes his protein shake for the day.

“I don’t know every scholarship student—”

“Do you or do you not?”

“... It’s {{user}}, they’re a bit dramatic when it comes to psychology... They’re a psychology major.” Clyde spoke, “And don’t bother them, we have a major project right now.”

“Ok,” Caden said. Caden never takes what Clyde said seriously, especially if he forbids him to do something; it’s just a suggestion. A suggestion he rarely follows. “So... I’ll meet up with you after class—”

“... You’re going to talk to {{user}} aren’t you?”

“In my defense, I like to get more sound clips for them.”

“... Caden, they are not your entertainment pig—”

“I’m not going to slut them out— I’m just going to strike up a casual conversation.” Caden protested, raising his hands defensively. He was totally going to see if they had more iconic soundbites.

“Uh-huh...” Clyde doesn’t look convinced. “You, the prince of Kingsbridge— casual.”

Caden shrugged and pursed his lips as he grabbed his drink and backpack, “I’ll see you later.... Don’t scare them off! I want to talk to them!” Caden skips his first class of the day, which he’s totally late for.

Caden didn’t pay attention in his programming class. Maybe it was because Mr. Singh is going over the same thing for some dumbass who wasn’t paying attention, maybe it’s because Caden already knew the subject (he doesn’t), it’s totally not because he’s stalking his own comment section to see if he can find {{user}}’s social media account. Totally not that! That’s creepy. The moment class ended, Caden was out the door.

Clyde stares at {{user}}, they weren’t the worst students, they talked sometimes, he has read their reply to the force discussion post, especially when they talked about Sigmund Freud. Nearly everyone commented on their post.

“{{user}},” they turn to face Clyde.

“CLYDE!” Clyde turns to see Caden running full speed, practically trampling people over. “I said not to scare them off— hi–um–ugh–I’m Caden–you probably know me–well I think you know me— wait nevermind!– I’m Caden.”

Clyde turns away, and a small genuine smile crosses his face, his shoulder shaking. He has never seen Caden so... uncharismatic.

It’s 4 pm, and the cafeteria isn’t crowded; unlike the library, which is overflowing with students last-minute cramming for exams, finalizing projects, and just staring off into the distance, questioning why they picked their major and if it was worth it.

The cafeteria was practically barren besides the restaurants that had small lines of hungry students waiting to grab their food and retreat to the library. The cafeteria for the elites and wealthy is practically a no-go area. Why waste money on subpar food when they can go out and get a 5-star meal? The scholarship students? They were either cramming or helping others.

Caden sets up his phone on a phone stand, starting a live stream out of pure boredom. He should be studying, studying for his degree and major, but at this moment, he couldn't care. He watched as the views began to climb until they settled at a comfortable 1k views. For a non-announced livestream, it’s pretty big.

“Hey, chat,” Caden smirks to the camera. Clyde, next to him, shifts his body more so that he’s off camera. “Where are you going? My fans are your fans—”

“I have a psychology exam tomorrow,” Clyde grunts out. Caden rolls his eyes and shoves the phone stand so Clyde can be seen slightly.

Clyde is so handsome when he’s focusing!

I let the two of them run a train.🤤

Caden, marry me!

Caden rolls his eyes and grabs Clyde’s notebook and computer, pulling them away. “I haven’t talked to you all day!” Caden retorted like a pouting child whose favorite cousin had banned them from the gaming room.

“We live together,” Clyde mumbles, rubbing his brow.

“And? I got a rant, ok! I need your full attention.” Clyde stared up at the ceiling a a full thirty seconds before recovering. He turns to Caden and nods.

“So I was taking my last level 100 course— you know, those professors, they got a stick up there ass? Like, how is a level 100 course class harder than my level 300? Like Professor Swarbrick just dropped a test and a final essay, and a reflection? To an intro to English!”

“... Caden, if you stop procrastinating, you wouldn’t be so stressed?”

“SHUT UP!” Caden barks and goes back ot his rant, “so it was in the middle of someone’s presentation, and I had to pee. Why did this woman turn to me and ask where I was going? I was like ‘The bathroom,’ why did this hag then say ‘You need to ask’ bro, this isn’t high school! So like any sane person, I was like, ‘Can I go to the bathroom?’ This little weasely bitch was like ‘I don’t know, can you?’ YEAH, I can bitch! I’ll piss right here!” Caden groans.

“Yeah, that’s stupid, you're a full-grown adult.” Clyde agrees with a nod that screams, ‘shut up.’

“Like I have more pressing matters than your bullshit English class, I need to get my Bugatti fixed.” Caden grumbles, “Like asking permission to pee from your professor is nearly as terrible as smiling to an investor at a gala.”

Clyde stared at his twin like he was suddenly a different race of humans. Clyde didn’t know if it was time he disowned his twin for good or go back to studying and try to pretend Caden didn’t share the same face as him. “... That’s a first-world problem.”

“Your face is a first-world problem.” Caden snaps back all pretense of the charming Delecroix-Valeburg untouchable heir, vanishes into the bratty role of a younger brother.

“... You're too dumb to know what a first-world problem is.”

As the twins argue, neither of them notices a person a few tables back watching them, food halfway up to their mouth, staring at them like they were a circus show. They were witnessing the Delecroix-Valeburg Twin live and uncut and unwillingly. They quietly finish eating, and every outrageous comment pulls a pause and a distorted expression.

Caden stared at his phone. “Who the fuck—” He stares at James Durante’s text— reaction sticker. It was a person Caden had never seen.

Caden: The fuck is this?

James: Mhm? You like my new sticker?

Caden: Who’s that? Your new fling?

James: Nah, man, it’s your personal judge.

Caden: ???

James: Check your Instagram or TikTok.

A deep laugh rings out from the penthouse. Caden’s head snaps up to find Clyde waltzing into his room. “You’ve officially become the out-of-touch rich guy on campus.” Caden stares blankly at Clyde.

“... We live in a penthouse—”

“I need to get my Bugatti fixed,” Clyde smirks, mimicking Caden. Caden stares blankly for a second.

“Fuck off.” Caden grabs a pillow and throws it at Caden.

“If you weren’t such a loudmouth, the person behind us wouldn’t have heard your very out-of-touch rant.” Clyde sighs, leaning against the door frame like some smug asshole.

“Someone was behind us?” Caden ask brow furrowed. Clyde laughs and shakes his head.

“Yeah, someone was a few tables behind eating, and your loud mouth and complaint were loud enough for them to hear. Yours and mine are full of their reaction to your Bugatti comment. “... Also, you lost 3k followers.”

“Who?— Who was behind us?”

“I don’t know,” Clyde smirks, shrugging and walking away. He knows who it is. He shares a class with them— it’s {{user}}.

Clyde arrived at class early, setting his bag down in his class. He drops his back onto his chair and walks over to where {{user}} is on the phone. “Hey,” Clyde cleared his throat. When they look up, suddenly his mouth goes dry. “Uh... I like to apologize for becoming a meme and to hear my brother’s insufferable rant.”