All his life, Arthur Kirkland thought he was an alpha. Alphas are the cream of the crop, the "top dog" so-to-say. Blessed with riches and are naturally good at everything they put their minds too. (Examples range from early queen Elizabeth to Einstein, Leonardo D'Vinci, Leonardo De Caprio, Bill Nye and many more actors, scientist, and geniuses.)
Arthur was no exception. Being born into the Kirkland family, famous for their name brand goods and dominate alpha gene (he has three older brothers, all with successful careers, to prove said point and a younger who is no-doubt an alpha as well), made him work till his wits end. But with spirit and pride, and goddamn stubborn character! He managed to become the person he wanted to and was proud to be!
Student body president in only his second year, 5.0 GPA and number one of his class (of his entire school, the famous World Academy), star goalie and soccer player, gentlemen, handsome, and school heart-throb (at least that's what he heard a group of omegas and betas whispering about in the corridors).
Now all he had to accomplish was graduate valedictorian of his class, get into a prestigious college under a business major and graduating with honors there, take over the family business in England (which he will have to fight his older brother, Alistar, for, thankfully Dylan (a doctor) and Connor (a professional soccer player) had gone lay-way from it), and settle down with his mate, a busty and beautiful omega (preferably with red hair).
That's all he had to do. All he had planned to accomplish. And he was going to accomplish it. This he swore until, that is, he found out the cold-hard truth.
It started out like any other day, waking to school while rechecking the club proposal a certain bubbly Italian sent it to get approved (seriously? The Siesta Club? Arthur would never understand what goes on inside that man's head!). Red pen poised to check the rejected box, when he heard them.
"Give us the cat, Al!" One little brat, with chin-length hair and a pink sweater, spoke,"We only want to see if he's actually fat or not." He gestured with scissors to the incredibly fluffy cat in, who he deduced as, "Al's" hands.
"No!" The boy hugged the feline to his chest and frantically swayed wit it, "If you cut all of Hero's fur, he'll be cold in the winter!"
"He'll grow it back!" The pink sweater-wearing girl (is she a girl?) argued, "Plus I could make a really cute skirt with his hair!"
"F-Feliks," the tallest and seemingly the quietest of the three spoke up, "I-I think you should st-"
"But Toris~ You can't tell me you're not curious to see if he really is too furry or just fat!" The boy, "Feliks", pouted.
"Hero's not fat!" Al stared at Feliks with watering eyes and big frown.
"There's only one to way to know for sure!" Feliks moved closer, snipping his safety sisters inches from the car.
Well, Arthur, arms crossed and thick brow raised, analyzed, it seems to me that this isn't an average bullying case... but I wouldn't want anyone to make my crumpet hair-less.
Decision made, Arthur steadily walked towards the trio, "Hey!" The three jumped and looked in his direction, "you shouldn't be playing with scissors, it's dangerous."
"Please don't tell my parents!" Toris hid his face in his hands, ready to cry.
"Run for it Toris!" Feliks grabbed the brunette's hand in one hand and the scissors with the other before dashing down the street.
"You shouldn't run with scissors!" Arthur hollered towards the two in hopes that he will listen and stop or throw the things away before losing an eye.
Turning head back to the boy who remained, the Brit crouched as to not intimidate him. The boy didn't look him in the eyes but continued to hug the feline in his arms who mewled at the action. Arthur sighed but smiled and instead of touching the boy he decided to scratch behind the cat's ear, " Are you alright? Did they scare you?"
The boy moved the car in a strange up and down movement before shaking him side to side, "I see, that's wonderful to hear! My name is Arthur, what's yours?"
"Hero? What a strong name. You must be a very fierce cat to have your owner name you that."
The cat meowed in response, tiny teeth and tongue showing, but the owner didn't move. Thinking he was making the boy uncomfortable and his phone signaling he had 30 minutes to get to school, Arthur thought best to end things there.
"Well it was nice meeting you hero, but I have to run. Make sure you protect your owner next time!" Arthur stood and turned. He managed to walk a few steps before a tiny hand on his owned stopped him.
"U-Um," The Brit turned to listen to the boy, an action he would soon come to regret, "Thank you very much, Arthur. My name is Alfred!" The boy exclaimed, managing to get up the courage to smile a wide toothy grin that touched his eyes. A pair of beautiful baby blue eyes that were accentuated by molten-gold colored hair and rosy cheeks.
It sent Arthur into a frenzy. He left the boy there without uttering a word of farewell and sprinted the remainder half-a-mile to his house where, upon his entrance, he collapsed which sent the servants in a frenzy of their own.
Locked in his room with his mother, his younger brother in school and brothers and father reassured of his situation did he learn the horrifying truth from his omega mother.
"Honey," she inhaled and exhaled all the same, her green eyes boring into his as if finally make up her mind, "you're an omega."
Suppressant pills on his lap and glass of water in his hands in addition to the various... tools his mother bought for him, his newly developed heat, and the fated-partner story he vaguely remember from elementary did the Brit finally come to terms that:
He was an omega.
Arthur Kirkland was an omega.
Fuck his life.