Running With Lions

Ben had found out from his cousin Peter who found out from his sister Gen who found out from his own sister Lavin that Harry was going to propose to Caroline.

That had been over two weeks ago and Ben still couldn't believe it.

He had actually laughed when Peter told him, thinking it was a joke.

"No, mate. He's planning to do it after Will and Kate tie the knot." Peter had said.

Tonight Ben wasn't thinking about this though. Tonight he was set on finding a girl at the pub tonight and having fun. He was meeting a group of friends at a pub in Edinburgh.

As he walked down the streets in a pair of Levi's and polo he felt like a king. The new shoes he was wearing only added to this feeling.

He was nearly at the corner of the street, where he heard music coming from the pub's open doors and windows.

Ben found his friends in a corner booth; the table already filled with bottles of beers and glasses of whiskey.

"How dare you lot start without me!" he cried as he slipped into the seat beside his bespectacled friend Andrew.

Andrew shook his hand and passed him a beer that was sitting unclaimed on the table. "Here you go, Ben. Cold one for ya."

_____

Ben sat in the booth talking with friends, catching up and recalling old memories from university. He checked his watch it was nearing midnight and he was running low on beer.

"I'll be right back," he announced and walked off into the crowd.

As he sneaked through groups of people, saying "Excuse me!" when necessary, he noticed that the pub was filled in an unusual amount of females tonight.

When he would pass one he didn't shy away from eyeing her. The one he just passed was cute. A blond bob, heavy makeup and unfortunately small breasts.

The next woman had dark hair, pin straight with cherry-red lips and breasts wrapped tightly in a black strapless dress. Ben licked his lips and smiled at this one.

Almost to the bar.

He passed a group of girls this time and they seemed to be crowded around one girl in particular. What did girls call the ones that were the self-proclaimed leader of the group?

Oh yeah, the Queen Bee, Ben finally remembered and realized how fucking stupid it was that girls had a hierarchy in their group but nonetheless looked at the Queen Bee. If she were ruler then she had to be beautiful.

Ben's mouth nearly hit the floor when he saw that it was Caroline, Harry's girlfriend. Her shiny mane of chestnut and her pale skin was unmistakable.

Ben had known Caroline since late 2008 when Harry had introduced them at a party in London. Ben would not consider Caroline beautiful enough to lead a group of females. Out of the seven that surrounded her two were far more attractive than her.

Her pale skin reminded him of those vampires that every woman in the world was in love with. She was freakishly tall for a woman with feet as big as his and hands that reminded him of Skeletore.

Of course, all of these attributes combined captivated modeling agencies and Ben would often see Caroline's ghostly face painted with purple blush and eyes darkened with charcoal in magazines.

Caroline turned and caught Ben staring at her.

Shit! Ben scolded himself. He knew that he had been staring too long. She was bound to have felt him staring at her.

Ben watched her eyes light up with recognition and she waved him over.

"Fuck," Ben muttered. He raised his empty beer glass in his hand, pointed to it and the the bar but her stare was relentless and she beckoned him again with a long bony finger.

He looked from the table to the bar. They were only a few meters away from each other; he would make a break for it as soon as he could.

"Fuck," Ben muttered pathetically as he made his way to the table Caroline and her group of faithful followers had claimed as their property tonight.

"Hello, Ben," she said, her tone flirtatious with a dash of overexcitement and arrogance.

He watched as the others stared, whispered in each other's ear and flashed smiles at him. He could have sworn one of them said something along the lines of "I'd sell my soul to shag him".

"Having fun, Caroline?" Ben asked.

She nodded her head slowly, a smirk stretched across her face. "Yes. This is one of my favorite pubs."

Ben made mindless smalltalk with her, pretending for an agonizing eight minutes that they were friends. Caroline then introduced her friends to him after a few nudges from the copper-headed one next to her.

It was after this that he excused himself.

"Well, nice to me you all...nice seeing you, Caroline."

He threw himself against he bar, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the bartender to take the order of the guy standing beside him.

Finally the bartender acknowledged him. "For you, lad?"

"Guinness, please."

"Oi, you're still waiting for a brew?"

It was Andrew.

"Yeah, sorry," Ben said as he leaned against the bar.

Andrew took a seat. "No worries. No worries." He scanned the crowd. "See any worthwhile girls?"

"Some. There's this one that's breasts are practically begging to be freed from her dress. I might go find her later," Ben told him as the bartender handed him his beer.

He took Andrew's order next.

"Shots for my friend and me. Whiskey."

"No," Ben shook his head. "You remember my eighteenth birthday, Drew. I threw up for days." He would hate to repeat that night four years ago.

Andrew laughed. "Do I smell fear?"

Ben hesitated.

"I feel that confronting the thing you fear is the best way to overcome it. So--" A shot appeared before each of them. Andrew grabbed his. "Cheers...pick up it up, you bloody coward...there you go."

Tiny clinks sounded as Ben and Andrew touched glasses.

"On three," Ben said.

"One..."

Ben breathed in and out, trying to relax himself.

"Two..."

He brought the tiny shot to his nose. The smell alone had began to trigger his gag reflex.

"Three!"

Ben pinched his nose shut and tossed the shot into his mouth, swallowing with one gulp. He cringed as the burnt the back of his throat and seared a path all the way to his stomach.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed as he slammed the shot onto the bar.

Andrew clapped him on the back a few times. "Not so bad. Another?"

"Sure. Why the hell not," Ben surrendered, throwing all inhibition to the wind.

Six shots in and Ben, Prince of Denmark couldn't deny that he was drunk. His vision seemed to be warped and he had his arm looped around Andrew's shoulder giggling to each other like a bunch of girls as Andrew told Ben his extravagant plan to marry Lavin.

"I'm gonna take her up to the top of Mount Everest."

"Oh, Lavin'll love that."

"You really think so?"

"I know so," Ben said matter-of-factly. His sister enjoyed skiing so why wouldn't she love being at the top of one of the tallest mountains?

"Good. I thought it was the best place to ask your sis to marry me. With the lack of oxygen, she'll be light-headed enough to agree."

Then Ben felt someone poking his back.

"You pokin' me back, Drew?" he asked, looking at his friend curiously.

Andrew's face reflected his own confusion. "No, man." He wiggled his fingers that were on the other side of Ben's shoulders. "My hands righ' 'ere."

Ben spun around on the bar stool to see a girl with her hand extended about to poke him again.

"Why are you pokin' me?"

She smiled and shrugged.

Ben squinted his eyes to get a good look at her. It was Caroline's copper-haired friend. She was shorter than he thought she would be.

"Do you remember my name, your highness?" she asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears. Which were large and, Ben blinked again, came to points?

Was this girl an elf?

Wait, he said to himself. The girl asked me a question...her name?

Danielle? No.

Lizzie? Definitely, not.

What was that elf's name in 'Lord of the Rings'?

"Arwin?" he said.

The girl laughed, halfheartedly. She clearly had hoped that he would have remembered her name.

"It's Melanie." She extended a hand.

Ben shook it. "Nice to meet you...again," he said, feeling a bit awkward.

"Wanna have a seat?" Andrew pointed to the seat beside Ben. Since they were situated at the corner of the bar all three of them had a good view of each other.

She nodded her head enthusiastically and climbed onto the bar stool.

"What's your poison, darling?" the bartender asked.

"Uhm-"

Andrew held a hand up. "If you're going to sit with the prince and me, we need to see if you can hang with us." He flashed a grin to Ben before turning to the bartender. "Three more shots of whiskey."

After the first shot, Melanie beckoned for another...then another...then another.

Ben watched as she turned from tipsy to wasted in record speed.

"So," Ben said, might as well make small talk. "What brings you to the pub tonight?"

"My one friend dragged me here. She is--uhm--she's good friends with Caroline...who introduced us."

"So you're not friends with Caroline?" he asked. This intrigued him a bit.

Melanie shook her head vigorously. "Not at all," she said, looking appalled.

"Don't like her?" Ben asked through a laugh.

"She's horrid!" Melanie sighed dramatically. "All she's been talking about is how Prince Harry is going to propose. How's she's going to be the new bloody Princess of Wales."

Ben wiggled his ear and stared at Melanie. Had he heard her right?

"What's wrong?" she asked, watching him stick his finger into his ear.

Ben's face turned into a grimace. "Did you just say that Caroline knows Harry's going to propose?"

Melanie nodded slowly. "Yes, or at least that's what she's saying. But I can't trust her as far as I can throw her."

Ben eyed Melanie's biceps when she motioned to herself. Her arms were as thin as the bar stools legs and from her short stature even lifting Caroline seemed an impossible task for this girl.

Ben had to tell Lavin at once. He reached into his left front pocket for his phone but only found his keys. Then he checked the right front pocket, nothing.

Then Andrew nudged Ben, clearly unphased by Melanie's tale and unaware of Ben's search for his phone, and handed him another beer.

Ben grabbed the beer, forgetting about his cell phone. He would just tell Lavin tomorrow. He just hoped he would be able to remember to.