A King In His Undershorts Dances By Himself Behind Closed Doors - You're Not Alone

ATB - You're Not Alone Lyrics

Whether you want to believe me or not, monarchs are people just like you and I, but perhaps with a different lifestyle. They have the same needs, wants and fears as most of us. They usually are a bit more reserved in public, due to the training and obligation they experience.

I'm here to tell you that kings and queens have their own individual morning routines, and it's all very human. Some are woken up by footmen, although not often these days. Others wake on their own, some cook their own breakfast, in fact most do! The study of the morning routine of all facets of mankind reveal the true nature of that given family or individual. Class and income does not determine the morning routine, personal preference does. It's an interesting study.

Here we see Stephan as he fights off fear, trauma and sadness by playing music and dancing to it in the morning. Indeed there are a few reigning monarchs that goof off, much like Stephan, or workout before their public day starts, as a way of getting up and atom, and getting motivated for the day.

Above are the lyrics and links to the song in this scene. I hope to get rights to use this song when we eventually shoot this as a movie, for it is great and timely. This is the kind of music a lot of Europeans listen to. Click the link above and download the song by ATB and listen to it as you read this scene out of my book series. Enjoy!

*********

Dawn broke, and light drifted across Stephan’s large and warm bed. Sun hit his face. Stephan rolled and curled against the invading light, but then his dog whined, wagged and kissed him right in the face with that ever licking canine tongue.

“Go away, Cochise!”

Canine Cochise ignored Stephan’s now popular and mostly recognized sovereign command. Hell with you being the Alpha Human Monarch King, I want affection!

Shit! Come on now, dear dog!

Alpha male dog, a large Weimaraner, whined loudly, waking up perhaps the whole entire fucking estate house. Shit!

Oh no, now the bloody hyperactive Salukis are awake, those being Princess Louisa’s hounds, as well as those blasted Mini Pinchers that the groundkeeper’s family had. Thank God there are no fucking Corgis in the house, for Christ Sake.

Hell! Poor England has had its surging Corgi overpopulation very recently, due to the thinned out British Royal family. That thinning was due to the recent and latest pandemic. Apparently, that family had not the resistance to the latest plague, due to inter-breeding and too much white bread and refined flour in their diet.

So many people, rich and poor, had died in that dreadful event. Just about 40 percent of humanity died, most royals included. Hadn’t there been a similar die off of royals and certain commons, back in the 1300’s and 1400’s? Indeed there had been, and then the resulting major power and cultural shifts.

Stephan curled up more under his covers at the thought. Shit, he was very closely related to those stuffy and yet funny, and rather warrior blokes. He liked those witty and strange English royals. Rather eccentric they often would be.

Stephan loved that about them. He now fucking missed them.

Unlike so many wealthy people, he ate simple foods. He ate real grains, and little of the white bleached grain based on that epic and planned Babylonian poison: Wheat.

Refined Wheat: The devil’s grain. The grain of insanity…

That dreadful grain had helped bring down the Roman Empire as it had been at its true glory. Wheat sometimes carried toxic mold, and had wrecked havoc on humankind since it’s introduction.

Stephan’s family kept to real meat and simple veggies, all estate grown, and shared with vigor, with the local people. His family was very involved in a regional feeding program, indeed, and that irked Chairman Wilcox. Stephan loved it.

Stephan counted himself as fortunate, but as a man taking advantage of his fortune in many ways. His guilt had never kicked in like it did now.

Shit, I’m a fucking billionaire. There’s lot’s of hungry people…

Stephan was in the painful phases of trying to leave Babylon.

That morning, he stayed curled under his covers for a while, sometimes letting a few tears out. He was experiencing all kinds of emotions and new sensations, and they seemed to come in waves.

Cochise licked Stephan in the face, and yanked on his sheets again. The hound flew from the bed, galloped the room, flow back onto the bed, and right on top of Stephan.

“Ow! You landed on my balls!” Stephan exclaimed.

The dog barked and licked him in the face again. Stephan couldn’t help him self, he started laughing at the whole display of testicle crashing canine determination. That animal knew. Stephan needed him right now.

After awhile, and after giving up resisting the efforts of his dog, who was still pulling on his covers, Stephan got out of bed, a shook off his sadness and fear, stretching loudly.

“Ok, ok, you win Cochise! Let’s get the show on the road. We’ve got to. I’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

Stephan strode over to his sound system, and was his routine, selected some house music. ATB played. He turned it up, but not so much as to disturb other parts of the house. He started his own coffee and bacon, and while waiting for it, make a little dance in his undershorts and socks, making Michael Jackson moves over the smooth wooden floor, goofing off with his hound. He even managed a fairly decent moonwalk, caught sight of it in one of his mirrors.

“Hey, Cochise, bad not for a King, yeah? Watch this!”

He made the moves again, tittering some at the end and catching his balance. Shit, he’s a monarch now. He’s going to miss hitting the clubs. He was quite the scene when clubbing, stealing the show, and it was a blast.

He made another moonwalk, screwed up, and started laughing at himself, as Cochise bounded about the room, flying from bed, to love seat, to bed again, and then running in tight circle, shaking a sock like dying game. As dog wrestled with the sock, Stephan continued to dance. He really got into it.

Stephan stopped in the middle of his dance, in the middle of that large room, standing in a beam of the sun’s light. He stood still, actually really hearing the lyrics like never before. Wow, he could rally feel more than the music, but also the words.

“My God, is this what life is like without so many brain implants?” He uttered, amazed.

In a way it’s a matter of time

I will not worry for you, You'll be just fine

Take my thoughts with you, and when you look behind

You will surely see a face that you recognize

You're not alone I'll wait till the end of time

Open your mind, surely it's plain to see

You're not alone, I'll wait till the end of time for you

Open your mind, surely it's time to be with me

It is the distance

that makes life a little hard

two minds that once were close

now so many miles a part

I will not falter though

I’ll hold on 'till your home

safely back where you belong

See how our love has grown

You're not alone, I'll wait till the end of time

Open your mind, surely its plain to see

You're not alone, I’ll wait 'till the end of time

Open your mind, baby there’s time for me and you

You're not alone, I’ll wait till the end of time

Open your mind, surely its plane to see

You're not alone

You're not alone

I’ll wait till the end of time

Open your mind

surely there time to be with me

In that song, Stephan's newly freed imagination heard his country call out to him. He went over to the sound system and played the song again, and then bought all 13,670 different mixes of that song by various DJ’s. He downloaded them all within nanoseconds.

Somehow, house music and rock & roll survived a few centuries, as did new wave. Disco certainly didn’t, and hip hop merged with slow jazz, as the middle class and rich white kids grew up, then grew old. The blacks had left hip hop long behind, inventing yet another form of music, as they always do, creating a fusion of Cuban music and punk.

As Stephan shaved, showered, drank his coffee, downed a gluten free croissant and bacon, and dressed, he sang back to his kingdom:

“You’re not alone,

Wait until the end of time,

Open you mind.

Surely it’s plain to see.

You’re not alone,

Wait until the end of time,

You’re not alone…”

And King Stephan was not alone when he danced in his skivvies. He had been seen indeed. It was soon to be a sensation. Outside, a team of body guards chased a guy with a small video camera. That guy made his escape.

#