The City of the Broken (Prince of the Broken)

by Ceri Beynon

  Mrs. Shelley wraps up the lesson. Whoo! Lunchtime.

  I never see Calix at break because he’s busy. He takes on so many roles. I feel like, compared to him, I don’t really do much. I like to relax. I feel more free like that. Not him, he does everything. Once he’s finished one thing, he moves on to the next. As I’m about to walk to the library to meet him, I see him in the corridor staring at the bulletin board.

  “Hey, What are you looking at?”

  “This cookery class on Wednesday evening. It sounds interesting I think I’ll join”.

  “When do you get time to just relax? You’re always into something.”

  “I like to be doing something all of the time. I work out to relax, its just the way I’ve always been”.

  “You’re the polar opposite to me” I shake my head.

  “I know, I know” he smiles.

  “So, did you speak to your Father about this secret club thing that’s on tonight”?

  “Yes.”

  “And…?” I can tell by his reaction that his father has been acting up again.

  “Well he wasn’t exactly thrilled. It is meant to be a secret meeting divulging important information after all”.

  “And?” I repeat

  “He just said ‘if you must’ Calix”

  “So that’s a yes?” I ask trying to clarify

  “It’s the closest to a yes you’ll ever get from his lips” he says humorously.

  I giggle.

  “Come on, lets go and get some lunch“.

  As we walk hand in hand to the cafeteria, I realize we’ve never held hands in college before. Every girl is looking. Some of them look annoyed its not them holding his hand. Others look shocked he’d be with such a plain girl as me. I look at him with that wonder-struck look that everyone else has. Those girls are much prettier and sexier than me . I’m just Miss-Average. I want to ask him, why? Why Calix would you want me? He could have any girl at all. Perhaps its this average-ness he likes. After all he has an extraordinary life. Maybe average is foreign to him.

  We get chips in the canteen with lots of ketchup. Calix looks like a chip has never passed his rosebud lips. But apparently he does eat junk too. I think that this has shocked me about him more than anything ,he’s full of paradoxes.

  “So tonight” his tone is serious.

  “Tonight” I say trying to concentrate on what he’s saying but this is difficult when I just want to stare into those eyes that promise paradise.

  “Wear black, its an absolute must ”.

  “Its not another ball is it?” I ask wondering what other black ensembles I have hiding in the deep cavern that is my wardrobe.

  “Not a ball.” he smiles knowingly.

  “Where should I meet you?” I ask expecting the usual Rolls Royce ride to the city.

  “Ah… that’s the other thing. I cant take you as I’ll be busy straight after college helping my father prepare”.

  “Okay I can walk”

  “Okay that settles it. I hope you know what a big deal this is. These keys are so rare, only special citizens can have one and I’m giving one to you. You hold the key to my heart so I figured you should have the key to the gates of the city in return”

  He hands me a long key with a big black ‘B’ at the end which acts as the handle. Its

  beautiful and looks like an antique. Its identical to the one he has.

  “Wow, thanks Calix. It means a lot that you would trust me with this. What exactly is it you’re busy with then? What time will I be able to talk with you?”

  “Well actually Father and I will both be doing a presentation together, so you’ll be in the audience with the other guests. I’ll feel a lot more confident having you there, do you mind?

  “Well I don’t know. Won’t I be like the odd one out, who else will be among the guests?”

  He looks doubtfully at me.

  “Well, you’re there by Royal invitation and so are they. That makes you all equal doesn’t it? Oh go on, please?” He looks so needy, like a little boy lost that I have no choice.

  “Oh, okay, yeah I’ll come”

  “Thanks and remember wear black, that’s very important” he says stressing his words.

  “Yeah, yeah, sure”.

  I think I should go on a black shopping spree so that I can fit in easily in the city and among Calix’s clan.

  “Oh, Seren, of course, your invitation. You wont know the password or venue without this”.

  Oh there’s an invitation.

  “Is this at the palace?”

  “No its about a mile away from the palace, The Royal Club of the Broken. Its elusive but still infamous so ask any fashionable looking local and they’ll probably know which direction to point you in”

  “Well if I’m not there at nine, assume I cant find it”, I say as I squint at the invitation.

  “Will do, or assume you’re dead” he smirks

  “You can be rather morbid sometimes, did anyone tell you that before?”

  “Hey what can I say? Prince of the Broken baby” his cocky swagger returning in an instant, like a lion on a rock. I laugh and so does he, back to a carefree student.

  I’ll have to find something that wont offend his Royal Stuffiness the King too much. I choose a black dress which is classy, yet casual. I decide on wearing my black padded jacket with a hood. Its not glamorous but will keep me warm on the walk to the Kingdom and locating this club.

  Here I am, alone at night, next to a cemetery. I’ve become to associate the sight of the headstones with romance. I like the idea of my beloved and I together for eternity in death, sealed as one. I walk to the gate that leads to this shadow kingdom, opening it with my key from Calix. I’ve always thought these gates hid nothing more than a mass of weeds. As soon as you step through the gates, you see the trees which hide the city from the eyes of curious explorers who haven’t been invited in. Thorns and bushes grow either side, adding to the impression of an unloved garden. Walk a little further and the truth is revealed. The black kingdom comes into view. The hustle and bustle of busy citizens coming from work. It could be Victorian London, if it had a Goth only day with a parade of depression. Its like a work of art that’s come to life. A combination of horror and magnificence. I feel a great sense of awe and appreciation combined with melancholy when I see it. Like a tragedy, which can also be a masterpiece. Its prince is flawed perfection, prince charming, prince alarming, black marble come to life.

  As the garden fades behind me and the City emerges I see dark figures in this shadow world rushing about to and fro. I walk into the chaotically ordered city, a black sea with a rebellious purple or grey streak of life here or there. Eyes blank and longing, downward and heart wrenched. Businessmen with an ambition of power with the blackest eyes of all. A child playing with a skipping rope ,another playing hopscotch aimlessly hitting each number as if it didn’t matter either way. Tears were a common music, like the fire engine of New York. A loveless teen graffiti’s broken hearts onto the concrete wall, her eyes thick with kohl and jet mascara. The buildings border the streets like tombs. The corpses within pretend to be alive, but know perfectly well that they are fooling no one, not even themselves.

  I ask the friendliest looking face I can find the direction to the Secret Club. She sits on a park bench smoking heavily on her cigarette, I sit next to her.

  “Excuse me, do you know the direction of The Royal Club of the Broken?” I ask and for a moment I think I see a glimmer of terror in her eyes.

  “What you be wanting that place for then Missy?” Her voice does not match her face. She looks graceful and eloquent, her speech is coarse and throaty, perhaps from over-smoking of cigarettes.

  “I’m meeting someone there” I say not wishing to divulge that I’m accompanying the Prince there.

  “Take a right down that road, opposite The Raven nightclub. You will see it, showy with a gold sign” she says cautiously.

  “Thank you” I say gratefully

&
nbsp; She takes a deep breathe before adding “But I’d warn you about that place Missy. Its all elusive an’ all. They don’t like the likes of you and me using it as a meeting place. Some say they make the law of the land unofficially behind them doors”

  “Really?” I ask intrigued.

  “Aye, I can tell you aint local. Too young to remember this city in its golden day. Twas proper town then, normal, cheerful with colour. Had its ups and downs like any old place but we had a good community, looked out for others. T’aint like that now-all changed since his missus died” she says with disdain.

  “The King?” I ask knowing the answer already.

  “Aye, him. Never liked him when she was alive but she kept him sane, you know, level headed. Man’s lost the plot. Wont even listen to his own son, not that he’s much better mind. He got the same old beliefs as his father, that lad.”

  “Look, thanks for the directions but I really must be going or I’ll be late .You’ve been really helpful,” I say, not wanting to hear her talk of Calix this way.

  “Yeah, yeah Missy, you’ve ad enough. I get the picture. Don’t think I be joking when I tell ya to keep away from that part of town though. It aint just the club. Ravens just as bad, dodgy characters in there”

  “Thanks I say” running as I know Ill be late now.

  So the RCB is the meeting place of the rich and powerful of this city. That figures since Calix and the King will be there. Perhaps he wants to see a friendly face amongst the professional pessimists and that’s why he has invited me.

  As I walk further on, I see that there is a parade in the town. On the lead float there is a girl wearing a lace dress. Her hair is long and platinum, although it could be silver so light. She’s singing:

  “To be alive, or to die. To feel dead, while you’re still living. Blackest night, brightest light. To feel dead while you’re still living”.

  I wonder if she’s famous. There’s a huge crowd gathered around the float. Jumping and dancing as in slow motion, neither happy nor sad. In a daze or a trance. Always and forever citizens of The City of the Broken.

  Suddenly I hear trumpets and there is a riot. I see a huge flash and a mass of yellow crowding the black hole of people. It’s The Smiley’s, here to protest in the public view. There are a lot of cameras and a news reporter-deadpan, professional, dressed in his sharp black suit. I look at the TV’s in the shop window seeing that The Smiley’s have been labelled. ‘Irrelevant troublemakers disrupt Royal concert” reads the headline.

  I hear their chant ‘Bring happiness, colour and laughter back to the Kingdom. Red, yellow, pink, blue .Replace the clouds with a rainbow. ”

  Looking at the TV screen, I see the news reporter shaking his head and the words ‘Rebels sing crazy anthem, upset the singer Annabelle’ and I see the blonde star who was just on the float looking shocked ,surrounded by security. The so-called rebels, who as far as I can see have only protested peacefully are being dragged off by the police when I walk past the black column that signals I’m entering the upmarket part of the city .I’m looking forward to seeing Calix after all this. As kind and intelligent as Calix is, I’m often surprised at his loyalty to the way his father rules the kingdom. He genuinely seems to believe in the concept of ‘broken’. He only met me because he wanted to recruit me as a citizen. The idea makes me smile. I always feel like a weirdo when I smile or even feel happy in this city. It seems to be an unwritten code that you have to look depressed. Maybe its a law? I’ll certainly have to look into this.

  I see it, a hidden cove, a treasure trove. In this part of town, atmosphere is different. There it is, The Royal Club of the Broken HQ. And directly opposite, The Raven, a nightclub that looks like a pirates drinking den. I wonder if Calix ever comes here with his approved-of-by-daddy acquaintances. As I approach TRCB I see there is no one standing by the door to accept invitations. I knock the polished mahogany wood several times. Seconds later, it opens. I’m greeted by a well dressed yet sinister looking man who for whatever reason makes me feel like he’s armed or trained in some martial art or both.

  “What can I do for you?” he snaps at me.

  “Um Hi, I’m here for the meeting. I have an invitation” and I hold it out for him to read. He looks at it as if disgusted that I could possibly be invited to such an elite club. After what seems like an age of him staring unconvinced at my perfectly genuine invite, he looks back at me

  “And who exactly gave you this invitation young eh lady” he says and I’m shocked by his offensive tone.

  “His Royal Highness Prince Calix gave it to me personally, saying that he would greatly appreciate my support”.

  “Hmm…”he looks down at the invitation again, as if testing what I’ve said with the invite in his hands.

  “Very well Miss, you may follow me“. He holds the door open, never taking his eyes off me and I step in.

  “Thank you very much” I say trying to be polite.

  Looking around, I see that the room is mahogany and dark green. Like a London cigar and brandy Gentleman’s club. There is a bar with a smartly dressed bar tender but there isn’t anyone else around. They’re all in the meeting which late for, I presume.

  “Which way to the Royal meeting?” I enquire of the bar tender who doesn’t seem to think so loftily of himself as the doorman.

  “Just through these double doors, down the hall, on the left” he replies, helpfully.

  “Thank you” I smile at him as I walk swiftly down the corridor.

  This place is elegant and understated. As I turn left I see only one door where the meeting is must be taking place. Upon opening the door ,I step into the room which is spacious and light, a sort assembly room, with a serious atmosphere. Everyone looks at me and I mouth an apology as I spy an empty chair and edge towards it. The King is on stage making a speech, I’m sure he wont think highly of my being late. It will only give him another reason to dislike me. The second thing that occurs to me is that all of the audience is male except me. Perhaps this is a gentleman’s club? Why didn’t Calix tell me? Perhaps that’s why the doorman looked at me like I was not meant to be at the club. I cant see Calix among the audience or on stage. Perhaps he’s backstage, he did say he was participating in this presentation.

  Suddenly I hear the King announce ‘and my son and successor Prince Calix of the City of the Broken’ and Calix steps out on stage, to an applause and standing ovation which I gladly participate in.

  “Thank you all. My father and I are both very grateful you could be here tonight.”

  He is different before an audience. He’s more dignified and aloof. A prince, a professional. Behind Calix and the King, I observe two bodyguards who are armed. I wonder why they feel them to be necessary.

  “We have many plans to make The City of the Broken an even more spectacular place for its citizens, there’s a new school of the Broken which will replace the old school. Our designer, the finest in all the city, Mr Jack Lipson,” he points and nods to elaborately dressed man who is sitting in the front row, “has created a splendid new uniform for all of the children to wear.”

  Mr. Lipson rises from his seat and walks onstage carrying one of the uniforms.

  “Good evening citizens of the Broken, I have worked tirelessly, never stopping until perfection was achieved”.

  Mr Lipson talks like a president addressing his people with great passion .

  “This is not just any school uniform. When His Royal Highness requested I design a new look for the children of this city, I could scarcely say no. On looking at the old uniform I instantly knew that my design must reflect the modern child. The old look was the old city, but we are very different now-The uniform needed to be versatile, practical. Allowing every child to mould to the school and yet retain his or her individuality”.

  I can see the audience growing bored with Jack Lipson’s speech and the King doesn’t kook impressed by his babbling on about his design. Calix though, listens intently, with great curiosity. He’s always
so polite.

  “Thus it was born. The design will live on for a century or longer, as it has been created to fit the child of today and of tomorrow. Our children’s children will all wear this wonderful style. An everlasting glove, a symbol of this great city.”

  He holds up the outfit which is plain black, with a purple embroidered B. Unremarkable to say the least. A sweatshirt with black trousers or a black skirt. A moderate applause arises from the audience, and Mr. Lipson smiles as if he is accepting a noble peace prize.

  The King walks over looking annoyed.

  “Thank you Mr. Lipson” he says ushering the overly enthusiastic designer back to his seat.

  “The school and the uniform are just one of my plans for the city. At present the fact there is an upper and lower school does not instil the singular broken mindset but acts as a separation between the older and younger generation. The rioting of the gangs must be stopped. These individuals make a fool of our city and go against everything we stand for.”

  The Kings voice rises to a level of anger as he speaks of the riots, which I presume to mean The Smiley’s and a very loud applause arises from the audience.

  “You may have heard today of the disturbance at the parade. This gang dressed in their rebellious yellow bring shame to the city”.

  A member of the audience shouts “They must be stopped! Get them imprisoned!”

  “Yes, I quite agree” say the King.

  “Laws are being passed as we speak, banning the colour yellow and anything but black and dark purple. It may sound unnecessary as I know a good many people who are fond of grey as well but I think you’ll find that without such laws, chaos will arise”.

  This is the first time I’ve viewed the king as a dictator. This man is insane.

  “So you see, this gang, who I believe call themselves Smiley’s, will be arrested for their antics if they dare go public with their diabolical schemes again”

  The king gets a roaring applause and standing ovation from the audience who are all dressed in black.