The next few days were ralatively unevevnful. Even though I didn't exactly like the idea of using servants, I decided to take advantage of Alex. Well, not exactly take advantage of him, but use him for what he is meant to do, which is cater to my every desire. I probably had left my room a total of five times over the past two days and that was only to go to the bathroom. My room was cleaner than it had ever been before. And, damn, it was fun to see Alex's pretty little self do anything and everything I told him to do.

Alex has just brought me my dinner for the night and I could tell from the slight dark circles under his eyes that he was tired. I couldn't help but feel guitly for working him so hard.

"Anything else, Jack?" He asked with a tiny, barely audible sigh.

"No, I'm good. Why don't you go take a shower and take the rest of the night to yourself?" You couldn't miss how Alex's eyes instantly lit up. He was so adorable that I almost couldn't stand it.

"You serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I'll even let you use my bathroom and towels and stuff. Just don't tell my dad cause he'd have both my ass and yours hanging from the rafters," I said, chucking at the thought of my bare ass hanging by a tiny rope from the ceiling.

He grinned so I could see his slight hamster teeth. "Thank you, your Majesty."

I nodded and stood up, walking to my personal bathroom and laying out my fluffy white towels. I turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature until it was perfect.

"Alright, go take your shower. Use anything you want, I don't really care. I have enough of everything as it is," I said flopping back down on my bed.

He nodded and walked out of the room, my eyes never leaving his perfect ass.

It was a few minutes later when I heard it. It was muffled by the loud spray of the water and it was hard to hear but it was still there. I almost didn't even hear it, it was so quiet. But I did. And when I did, my heart completely stopped.

It was coming from the bathroom, soft and smooth and beautiful. It was that exact same voice that I heard a few days ago when I was in the pasture. It was Alex. Alex was the owner of that amazing voice. For some reason, just knowing that it was him made me feel closer to him. There was so much raw emotion and what sounded like pain in his voice that I hadn't reccognized sooner. I wanted to know what caused that pain. It was like he was telling me a secret, a secret that I couldn't quite hear or understand, that he didn't even know he was telling me. I wanted to hear more but, before long, the water cut off and so did Alex's voice.

Soon enough, my bedroom door opened to reveal Alex, hair dripping wet and a towel hanging loosly around his hips. I had to restrain myself so that I wouldn't just get up and pounce on him. I bit my lip and let my eyes wander over the planes of his toned chest.

Alex seemed to notice my traveling eyes and looked down, but not before I saw a bright pink color spreading across his cheeks. "Do you have a hair dryer I can use?" He asked sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah. Under the sink on the left. There's a straightener and some razors if you want to fix your hair or shave while you're at it," I suggested.

Alex nodded and left the room. He returned about 20 minutes later. Much to my dismay, he was now fully clothed in a dark purple v-neck shirt that hugged his torso in all the right places and a pair of gray sweat pants that exposed his prominent hip bones when he stretched his arms up over his head, much like he was doing now.

Even though I know that he was aware that I was looking him over, he ignored me and crossed the room to his own bed. He flopped down and I continued to watch him out of the corner of my eye.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" He asked after a couple of minutes.

I sat up in my bed and leaned back against the wall. "You're a mystery to me and I'm just trying to figure you out." Alex blushed lightly and I continued. "I know nothing about you besides your name. Tell me about you."

"What do you want to know?" He asked, biting his lip.

"I want to know you. To be quite honest, I don't want you as a servant. I want you as a friend. I tried telling that to my dad, but he never listens to me. I'll explain more on that whole situation at another time. Just tell me the things that you think a friend should know."

He seemed to think about it for a second before he began. "Okay. My name is Alexander William Gaskarth. I was born on December 14th, and I don't want to be a servant. Well, not exactly. I have to be a servant. I have six brothers and two sisters. My parents are dead. My older brother, the one who took care of me and my siblings for a while after mom and dad died, is also dead. He was a knight. Killed in combat. I, being the next oldest, now have to take care of my siblings on my own. Thing is, money's been tight lately. Tight to the extent that I would only get to eat two days out of the week to ensure that my family got to eat. To make things better, I've also become depressed. Losing your parents and your brother in such a short period of time and then having to grow up way before I'm ready. . . It's tough. My escape was music. When I sing, everything disappears. I'm in another world. Everything is okay. But music won't keep my family alive. That's why I'm here. The pay is good and the work is similar to what I was already doing. You gotta do what you gotta do, I guess," Alex said with a said smile. His voice had become progressively lower and the more he said, the slower he talked. His eyes were focused on nothing in particular so it was almost like something was distracting him.

I felt bad for him. Mostly because I could relate to him. Our stories were similar in the sense that we both had too much responsibility shoved on us at far too young an age.

"What do you sing?" I asked suddenly, not completely sure where the question had come from.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled somewhat sadly. "My parents: They were travelers before they died. Whenever they would go to a different country, they would send me lots of different CD's by lots of different artists; some of which I had heard of, others I had not. And sometimes I would even write my own songs and sing them in the village square. It got me a little bit of money, obviously not enough to support a family of nine but, hey, every little bit helps."

I nodded slightly. "What's your favorite color?"

"What?"

"Your favorite color. What is it?"

"Why would that be important?"

I shrugged and looked directly into his eyes. "To me, best friends should know everything about each other. Everything as significant as a life story to something as seemingly unimportant as their favorite color."

"Fair enough. Blue," Alex replied. "What about you, your Majesty?"

I chuckled slightly. "You're off the clock so it's Jack. Actually, it's Jack all the time. I don't like that formal shit, especially if we're going to be friends."

"Okay, well, what about you, Jack? What's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"We have something in common, it seems," Alex smiled.

"More than you realize, actually. Good night, Alex." I lay down and turned off the lamp on the bedside table before he could question me further. He would figure out what I meant on his own.