Heartstopper meets Derry Girls in this wonderfully hilarious rom-com about finding your first love when your personality might be too big for the world around you.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Harry Trevaldwyn’s The Romantic Tragedies of a Drama King, which releases on January 28th 2025.
Patch Simmons has decided that this is the year he will get a boyfriend, so it’s goodbye to his French pen-pal Jean-Pierre and hello to the world!
Unfortunately, the only other “out” boys in his school year are dating each other, so finding a boyfriend isn’t going to be easy… Until fate finally intervenes and two new mysterious boys join drama club: Peter, who’s just moved from New York (very chic) and his best friend, Sam.
Patch is confident that one of them (although either of them will do!) will be his first boyfriend. So armed with his single mum’s outdated self-help books, his over-supportive best friend Jean and an alarming level of self-confidence, Patch is confident that this mission will be a complete success. Whether or not they actually like boys or him is a problem for later.
The Romantic Tragedies of a Drama King is a heartfelt, laugh-out-loud comedy from rising star Harry Trevaldwyn, a story about boldly being yourself, going for what you want, but never losing sight of who truly has your back.
Dear Jean-Pierre,
I regret to inform you that this will be the last letter you ever receive from me. You see, this year I have decided to get a boyfriend and unfortunately (for you) I simply don’t have the time to both continue my pen-pal responsibilities and give this new task the focus it requires.
I don’t want to lie to you and say that getting a boyfriend is the only reason I’m stopping my letters. I think, Jean-Pierre, you are partly to blame. We have been writing letters to each other for nearly two years now and there hasn’t been the slightest hint that you’ll invite me to France despite me having invited you to my house several times. Invitations that you have, rather rudely, ignored. There was also the issue last year when you addressed your letter to someone called “Felix” and in the process made it abundantly clear that ours was not an exclusive writing relationship. Have you invited Felix to Normandy, Jean-Pierre?? Don’t even bother responding to that because I shan’t reply. Lastly, and I don’t quite know when this happened, but I’ve noticed that we now write all of our letters in English and because of this, my French has not improved at all. I wish you well and I hope that life is kind to you and despite all of this I genuinely hope that you get onto the tennis team this year. I know how important that is to you.
But like I said, this is the last you will ever hear from me. Kind regards, à bientôt,
Patrick Simmons (Patch)
PS In your first ever letter, you attached a Milka chocolate bar (which was quite the incentive for keeping up our pen-pal relationship, and I wrongly assumed they would be a regular addition to your letters). I think it would be a really classy and symbolic move to send me one more as a final “adieu” to our writing relationship. Also, they are really quite hard to find here. Okay, now that is the last you’ll ever hear from me, properly this time.
Au revoir!
Patrick Simmons (Patch) xxx
Chapter 1
I cross out the kisses at the end of my letter because I think it undermines the gravity of what I’m saying. My chair creaks as I lean back and hold the letter up for inspection. Faultless penmanship, as always.
I do feel a bit guilty for ending my pen-pal relationship with Jean-Pierre but “in order to make room for new relationships in my life I have to weed out the ones that aren’t bearing fruit.” I learned that phrase from one of my mum’s self-help books, which I’ve taken to borrowing on a semi-short-term basis. If you look past the tacky covers there are some real pearls of wisdom there. It’s fascinating how much is applicable to both a divorcée in her midforties and a queer sixteen-year-old, especially as we’re both desperately seeking a man. While, of course, seeming to be happy on our own in order to lure them in. Ah, Jean-Pierre, au revoir!
It’s worth noting that I have been in love twice before. The first time was with Fred: very charming with neat blond hair and a penchant for accessories. The problem was that he was an animated character on Scooby-Doo. I appreciate that he was romantically linked with Daphne but I always felt
their chemistry to be somewhat lacking. Fred took charge, which I found very appealing (but now find a bit problematic), and he, alongside Velma, was a large factor in why the gang had such a high success rate when I don’t think any of them were formally trained in detective work. The second time was with Josh, who was definitely a real person, but things turned sour when I discovered he was a paid babysitter rather than a seventeen-year-old genuinely interested in my origami and who weirdly enjoyed enforcing bedtimes.
You have to be organized in order to fall in love so I’ve given myself a “boyfriend deadline.” The end of the school year feels much too far away; I’m ready to take the leap now and I’ll get complacent if the deadline’s too far in the future. Also I’m terrible at being patient. So, I’ve marked in my diary (with a big red heart) the perfect deadline: Prom. Our school doesn’t do actual Prom, but my Drama Club puts on a party after the first big show that everyone calls “Prom.” Apart from Ms. Jenkins, who runs it, because she thinks that “Americanisms are melting our minds,” which is ridiculous because America is responsible for such incredible things! Off the top of my head: Kelly Clarkson, the Hollywood sign and cereal so sweet they make your teeth shake. I even tried suggesting a big family holiday to America under the guise of “political intrigue,” but Mum quickly sniffed out it was for the cereal, so we went to Devon instead. Regardless, Prom is the perfect time to have a boyfriend:
Why Prom Is the Perfect Time to Have a Boyfriend
- Proms are romantic (ask any film).
- There’s a photo element (it is so important to professionally document love).
- I won’t have to spend an awkward amount of time pretending to browse the crisp selection when the slow songs come on.
- It’s in December, so I’ll probably receive a thoughtful and romantic Christmas present from him (jewelry seems a bit obvious, but also I want it).
