The Thrill Is Gone

If anyone were to ask Paulina what her favorite holiday was, she would – without a doubt – answer that it was her birthday. Now, for some, a birthday might not count as a holiday, but in the Balcázar home, birthdays were treated with the same importance as Christmas and Easter. Every birthday started off with the person’s favorite breakfast, it then transitioned to their favorite lunch, and finally, it ended with a party in which the entire extended family was invited. That’s how it’s always been in the Balcázar home. How it’ll always be, but for the first time in Paulina’s life, her birthday would not be spent at home, with her family. She’d thought she’d be alright with it. That being in Bath with her best friends would make up for the fact that she was thousands of miles away from home, but when she got a text message from her brother at two in the morning, asking her to go on SKYPE, she realized that she wasn’t as alright as she’d thought.

To be honest, she wanted her breakfast of chilaquiles and fresh made tortillas. She wanted her lunch of bírria and rice. She wanted her childish birthday party in the backyard, complete with a piñata and goodie bags. Oh. She wanted all of it! And it wasn’t until she got her brother’s text message that she truly realized how difficult, not having any of that, was going to be. With a resigned sigh, she left her place on the bed, throwing her feet over the side so she could walk to the media room in the hotel. She grabbed her laptop carrying bag, and after sliding the room key into her pocket, left. The media room was three floors below. Hopefully, it’d still be accessible to hotel guests. If not, she’d just have to find some place where she wouldn’t be a nuisance to people.

“Evenin Miss, might I be of service?” asked a hotel staff when she exited the elevator.

“Oh. Yes, uh, yes,” she smiled. “I'm actually on my way to the media room. Do you know if it’s still open?”

“It is, Miss. The media room is accessible to hotel guests at all hours of the day. After nine pm, it’s necessary to have one’s room key in order to gain entrance.” She replied. “Would you like me to escort you to the media room? Or have you already visited?”

“I walked by there earlier, so I think I can manage. Thank you, though. You’ve been very helpful.”

The woman smiled kindly. “That’s what we’re her for, Miss. And if you need any assistance, please do feel free to contact us at the front desk. There are always two people on call, to take any inquiries.”

“Thanks for letting me know. Hopefully, I won’t have to bother either of them.” And with a polite bow of the head, Paulina took off in direction of the media room.

It wasn’t to far from the elevator. She just had to walk into the lobby and then make a right past the lounge area they had. She walked in silence, her hands nervously tugging at the strap of her bag. She knew her family was probably going to wish her a happy birthday. That was the only reason her brother would have sent an international text. But she didn’t know how she felt about them wishing her a happy birthday, when she felt liable to cry at any moment. And as she slid her room key through the machine, she became very much aware of the fact that even without crying, she’d still look a hot mess. There wasn’t any makeup on her face, her hair was a mess of frizzy, wild curls, and she was wearing an oversized Stanford sweater that was a faded shade of black. She could already hear her mother, Irmalinda, telling her that she should put more effort into her appearance.

Once she was inside the media room, she walked over to an empty desk and set her bag on it. She pulled out her laptop, letting it rest against the smooth surface, as she plugged in her charger. She then took a seat, waiting for the laptop to start up, and once it did, she connected to the wifi and then got on SKYPE. It took a few tries to connect, she’d forgotten her password, but eventually she was on and there, on the left column, was Luis’ name in green. Before clicking on the icon, she ran a hand through her hair and pinched her cheeks, trying to make herself seem somewhat presentable. She took in a breath. This was it. She’d soon be seeing Luis and her parents. She’d probably talk to her other brother’s on the weekend. Adrian was probably busy at work and Rafa was probably at home with his wife and kids.

The icon was soon clicked and before she had a chance to greet her family, they started singing Las Mañanitas, which was a traditional Mexican birthday song. She watched in silence as her entire family sang to her. They were all standing in the living room of her parent’s house, huddled together so they could all fit into the range that the webcam had. They were all their; her parents, her brothers, their significant others and even Rafa’s children. She tried to fight back the tears, but found herself so overwhelmed with longing and happiness, that they just sort of ended up spilling out. And when her mother brought out the birthday cake that was decorated with Snow White figurines, she completely lost it.

“Blow out the candles first and then you can cry,” commented Luis. “And hurry up, I want cake!”

“No seas así con tu hermana. (Don’t be like that with your sister.)” Irmalinda scolded as she delivered a menacing glare at her youngest son.

“Ah, I was just playing.” Luis grumbled.

“Pues no juegues así. ¿Entendido? (Well don’t play like that. Understood?)” Her blue eyes still narrowed at him.

“Yes, mom,” replied Luis. He may have been a grown man, but he knew not to cross his mother. They all knew that.

Irmalinda smiled triumphantly and redirected her attention to Paulina. “Cuando quieras, mija. (Whenever you want.)”

“Do you really want me to pretend to blow out the candles?” Paulina held back a laugh.

Irmalinda nodded as if it were natural to pretend to blow out candles via the internet.

“Okay,” she closed her eyes, wrinkling her nose as she did so and made a wish, then she reenacted what blowing out the candles would be like.

On the other side of the screen, her nephew blew out the candles and the entire family erupted in applause. They then began to cut the cake, handing out pieces to everyone. And once everyone had a seat, they set down the laptop on the kitchen table so she could see them eating. A bright smile adorned her face as she saw her mother and father at the head of the table, digging into the French vanilla cake that was her absolute favorite. To the right of her parents, sat Rafa with his wife, Teresa, and their two children, Ronaldo and Isabel, the little ones were stuffing their faces with the ice cream that accompanied the cake. Across the table from them sat Adrian with his partner of five years, Thomas. The pair was engrossed in conversation. She couldn’t really make out what they were talking about, but they were both smiling, it must have been good. And sitting next to Thomas was Luis. He didn’t bother talking. He was focused on the massive slice of cake that he’d cut himself.

“Where are you right now?” asked Raphael, after he’d finished his cake. “That doesn’t look like your apartment.”

“That’s because it’s not.” Paulina replied. “I'm in the media room at a hotel. Remember, I told you I was coming to Bath for my birthday?”

“Oh. That’s right. I forgot about that. Thought you were joking,” he said.

“Come on, Rafa. You know better than to think me capable of joking about anything Jane Austen related. I take my obsession with her, very seriously.”

Rafa let out a laugh. “So how long are you staying there? And how’d you get there? Did you rent a car?”

“I'm only staying here until Friday, then my friends and I are gonna, go to London for the weekend. Oh. And my friend drove us out. He’s got a car so he was nice enough to do that.” Paulina explained.

Her three brothers instinctively turned to look at their dad. They were all very protective of her and despite that she’d explained time and time again, that Alfred was just a friend and that he liked Olivia. They still weren’t completely alright with the idea of her spending so much time with him.

“Alfredo?” asked her father, Ricardo.

She nodded, “Yes, dad.”

“Same room?” he asked in his thick accent.

“No,” she lied. “He got his own room. And I'm sharing with Olivia.”

The issue wasn’t discussed any further and they jumped into conversation about how things were going. She ended up talking to them until a quarter past three in the morning and then, when little Isabel started complaining about how tired she was. The family said their goodbyes and their SKYPE chat ended. Paulina sat there for a little while, letting her emotions, get the best of her. When she felt composed enough to go back to the hotel room. She packed up her stuff and journeyed back. This time, she didn’t cross paths with any hotel staff. The hotel felt more deserted than it had at two in the morning. And to be honest, it was a bit creepy. Her imagination started running wild with possible reasons why it was so deserted. She ended up coming to the conclusion that a zombie invasion had taken place and with that fear, deeply instilled in her sleep deprived mind, she started power walking to the room.

The moment she walked into the room, she let out a sigh of relief and then trudged to the bed she was supposed to be sharing with Olivia. Olivia was fast asleep, her lips slightly parted as she was off in the land of slumber. Paulina knew that Olivia said she didn’t mind if she’d kick her in her sleep, but Paulina didn’t want to put her friend through that, so instead, she grabbed her pillow from the bed, along with the blanket, and set up her sleeping space between the two beds. The floor wasn’t going to be as comfortable as a bed, but she knew how bad of a sleeper she was. She kicked in her sleep, fidgeted like there was no tomorrow. And no one should have to put up with a person that’s that bad of a sleeper, unless they’re getting laid or they genuinely love them.

Paulina didn’t have much trouble with falling asleep. She found a position in which she was fairly comfortable and drifted off into dreamless slumber that she was woken from at eight that morning. She didn’t want to wake up. The curse words she kept muttering made that perfectly clear, but Alfred had ordered a special breakfast for them. Olivia was charged with waking Paulina up, and she kept softly asking her to get up, not stopping until the brunette removed the covers from her head and shot both her friends a glare.

“Let me sleep!” she exclaimed. “It’s to fucking early to be alive.”

“Oh. Hush up. It’s a perfectly reasonable hour, so go on. Sit up so we can have our breakfast.” Olivia ordered. “That reminds me. Happy Birthday Paulin!” she wrapped her arms around Paulina, taking her into a tight embrace. “I’m very pleased to be here with you. Very glad we’re mates.”

“Thanks Via.” Paulina sat up. “I'm glad you could come out for this.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Olivia reassured. “Now come on, Alfie ordered a very lovely breakfast and we mustn’t let it get cold. Alfie!” she shouted for him.

“Just a minute!” he shouted back. He was washing his hands in the bathroom. “Was just washing up . . . ah!” he exclaimed when he walked out and saw that Paulina was awake. “You’re awake! Was beginning to think we were gonna have to drop a bucket of water to wake you up.” He stated. “Glad to see you’re awake, though, get, to feast while it’s still warm and we can do all those Jane Austen things you two have been plotting.”

“Looking forward to them, aren’t you?” teased Paulina.

“Of course,” he took a seat on his bed. “There’s nothing I’ve ever looked more forward to in all my life.”

Olivia let out a soft, musical laugh. “You two are like children, you are. Am I gonna have to separate you into different corners?”

“Don’t think that’s necessary. At least, not yet,” he joked.

“Well, you better straighten yourself out. It’s Paulin’s birthday and that means that she can pretty much get away with anything.” Olivia wheeled the trolley that contained their food into the middle area between the beds. “Sorry Paulin, you’re gonna have to get on the bed.”

Paulina climbed onto the bed, pushing her dark curls behind her ears so she could observe the food. Her eyes were still adjusting to the light, but she could easily make out what was on the trolley. There were pancakes, waffles, fresh fruit, eggs, bacon and sausage. To drink, there was orange juice and coffee. The heavenly smell of the coffee made her stomach howl for it. Her addiction to coffee was ridiculous. She was a massively irritable bitch without it, the sort of person that she’d want to punch in the face. That was why she always made sure to have her cup in the morning, to spare others from her bullshit and wrath.

“Here you go, Paulin,” Olivia handed her a cup of coffee. “Two sugars, a dash of vanilla and a bit of milk. Just like you like it.”

“You’re a saint, Via,” she lifted the coffee and took a long drink from it, not caring that her tongue was getting burned by the caffeinated goodness. “So fucking good . . .” it was then that she realized she hadn’t thanked Alfred for having gotten them breakfast. “Alfie!” she bellowed.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, looking up from the plate he was piling with pancakes.

“Nothing . . . I just, haven’t thanked you for breakfast. It didn’t register with me until I had some of this,” she lifted up her coffee. “And I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Well don’t thank me until you’ve tried it. Might taste like rubbish.” Alfred said.

Paulina let out a hearty laugh. “If the food’s as good as the coffee is then I know I’ll be thanking you.” she grabbed a waffle and took a bite. “Yup, it’s definitely as good as the coffee.”

“In that case, you’re welcome.” Alfred resumed piling the pancakes onto his plate. “So what do ya have jotted down on that schedule of yours, Via?”

“Give me a sec . . .” she ran towards the nightstand and grabbed her schedule from its surface. She flipped through the pages, until settling upon the one marked for March 27th. “At 10 this morning we are to visit the Roman Baths where we will wander about and explore. At noon, we’re supposed to go to the Royal Crescent Hotel to have tea. And then . . . what’s it say here? Ah! After tea, we’ll head over to the Jane Austen Centre. Once we’re done there, we’ll walk around Henrietta Park. And then we’ll come back to the hotel, shower and get dressed to go to dinner. And after dinner, we will go to . . . oh . . . I didn’t write that down. Darn. Paulin?” she called to her friend.

“Yeah?” replied Paulina.

“What was the name of the nightclub? The one you found online?”

“Second Bridge,” she answered.

Olivia jotted down the name onto her schedule. “We can find the address we get back for dinner.”

“Do you two honestly think there’s going to be enough time to everything on that list?” asked Alfred, dubious that they could get so much done.

“It’s not much, not really.” Olivia gave the schedule a look over. “Seems like a lot, but there’s truly only three spots we’ll be going to in the day. And at night it’s just dinner and then drunken merriment. Well, for you two. Because we all know I’ll be out after the third drink.”

“Come on Via, you’re not that bad.” Paulina cut up her waffle.

“Not that bad?” she nearly laughed. “Have you forgotten what happened last time? Alfie had to carry me home! He literally threw me over his shoulders and carried me home.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mind.” Paulina muttered, smiling into her cup.

“He only says he didn’t mind, because he’s a gentleman.” Olivia mumbled, her cheeks brightening with color at the memory of her overly drunken night.

“Honestly didn’t mind.” Alfred reassured. “Was refreshing to see you that smashed,” he smiled. “You’re always so on it, it was nice to see you a mess like us.”

“Gee, thanks, Alfie.” Olivia fought back a smile.

“Don’t mean it in a bad way.” He quickly corrected, worried that his words had been misconstrued.

“Hah. I know, I know. S’alright.” Olivia smiled as she drizzled, syrup on her pancakes. “In all seriousness though, what we don’t manage to fit in today, we can do tomorrow, before we leave for London.”

Paulina and Alfred immediately shot each other looks.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Paulina eventually said.

“Why’s that?” asked Olivia.

“Because odds are we’re gonna get shitfaced tonight. At least, I am. Alfie, you gonna get shitfaced?”

“Proper smashed?” he corrected. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Olivia shook her head. “You mean to say I'm going to be the only sober one?”

“No.” They replied in unison.

“But you just said –”

“And you said, you were gonna have three drinks.” Paulina interjected. “Which means we’ll all be pretty drunk . . .”

“Hopefully none of us get to sick. The last thing we need is for someone to be puking when the other two can’t even manage themselves.” Olivia paused before adding, “You know, I won’t drink so much, just to make sure you lot are alright.”

“Awe, come on Via, we’ll all be alright.” Alfred said.

“And it’s not like any of us haven’t been really drunk and not had someone to take care of us. We know what to do in that scenario.” Paulina placed some fruits onto her plate.

“And what’s that?” Olivia cocked her brow.

“Run to the nearest toilet or sink.” Paulina stated.

“Or bin!” added Alfred.

“Or purse, but that’s only in an emergency.” Paulina smiled nervously.

“A purse?” gasped Olivia. “Please tell me you’re joking! You’ve got to be joking.”

“It was just a one time thing.” Paulina mumbled.

“Why did it even have to be a one time thing? That’s just . . . just disgusting.” Alfred wrinkled his nose.

“You must have been so sick.” Olivia stared at her with a look of concern. “Was no one there to take care of you?”

“There was, that’s why I puked into my purse and not the train floor.”

Olivia shook her head in disapproval. “I’ll never understand you, Americans.”

“We don’t even understand ourselves, so that’s alright.”

They chatted all throughout breakfast, laughing for most of the time. And when they finished eating, they drew straws to figure out what order the shower was going to be used. The first to go was Alfred, whom didn’t take very long in the shower. He’d trimmed his beard the previous night. So all he did was have a quick shower and then change into his walking clothes. The next person to shower was Olivia. She tried not to take to long in the shower, but she had a habit of taking forty minute showers, so she barely managed to knock it down to twenty-five minutes. After she got out, it was Paulina’s turn. She wasn’t one for long showers. Hers usually lasted ten minutes, fifteen at the most. But she wanted to give the pair time to be alone for a bit. So she took in her phone, turned on the water and sat on the toilet for a good thirty minutes, just messing about on the internet.

As soon as they finished getting ready, they walked out the door to begin their day in Bath. The three of them piled into Alfred’s car, Paulina sitting in the back because she claimed that it was more comfortable than the front seat. Throughout the entire drive, she couldn’t help but be in awe of the magnificence that was Bath. The architecture was nothing short of stunning. It was regal, classically elegant and as they drove through the streets, she couldn’t help but think that she could see Anne Elliot strolling through the streets with Captain Wentworth or Lady Russell. Bath was heaven for her and when they arrived at the Roman Baths, she nearly went into shock.

That was the standard reaction that Paulina had throughout the day. Whenever they arrived at one of their destinations, she’d have to mentally prepare herself to step out of the car. It was odd. She knew it was, but she’d been dreaming about visiting Bath since she was fourteen years old and now that she was there, now that she was actually at all the places that she’d stayed countless nights looking up on Google, she couldn’t believe that it was actually real, that this was truly happening to her. The trio spent their morning and early afternoon exploring, and after having walked what felt like miles and taken, what seemed to be thousands of pictures, they journeyed back to the hotel to get ready for their dinner.

Instead of drawing straws like they had in the morning, they decided to just follow the mornings showering schedule. It took about an hour and a half, but once they’d finished getting ready for their night out, they walked out to the street and hailed a cab. Originally, they were supposed to dine at the Cavendish Restaurant, but they’d decided against it when they spotted a quaint Italian restaurant by the name of Rustico Bistro Italiano. They had walked by it earlier. Its bright yellow front had captured their attention and once the smell of the food struck them, they knew that that was where they had to have their dinner. It worked out well for them. They were all fans of Italian food and the restaurant felt cozy, a place where they could have a glass of wine and laugh, as opposed to a place where they had to mind their behavior so as to not appear improper.

“Everything sounds delicious,” commented Olivia as she observed the menu.

Paulina nodded in agreement. “We should get one of everything just to try it out.”

“How we gonna drink then?” asked Alfred. “If our stomachs are packed with food, there’s no space for the liquor.”

“Right, right . . .” a sigh was let out by Paulina. “Guess we’ll just have to be reasonable with what we eat.”

They went onto order their respective meals and ate it, all the while holding a lively conversation. It wasn’t until the meal had ended and that the two bottles of wine that they’d ordered were nearly finished, that Paulina checked to see what time it was.

A smile tugged at her lips when she saw it was 8:47 pm, and since it was that time, she picked up her glass of wine and said, “At precisely this time, twenty-three years ago, I arrived to this world covered in uterine fluid. Now, let’s go see what fluids I end up covered in tonight, because it’s not a birthday until someone pukes.”

“Paulina!” exclaimed a mortified Olivia. “That’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever said. And I mean ever!”

“That’s not how you’re supposed to react to someone’s toast.” Paulina declared.

“That was not a toast. That was you being . . . being odd.” Olivia argued. “This is a toast.” Olivia lifted her glass of mineral water. “Would everyone please raise their glass? I’d like to take a moment to say how I pleased I am to be here on your birthday. And I wanted to say that you’re lovely and I'm really grateful we’re friends. Even if you make bizarre comments from time to time,” she smiled. “Here’s to your happiness and our friendship. Cheers!”

They all lifted their glasses and took a sip from their respective cups.

“Still like mine, better,” Paulina said in a singsong voice.

From his seat, Alfred chuckled. “Might not have been all that appropriate but it was honest. Cheers to that.”

“You would find that amusing.” Olivia laughed.

“You do to,” he teased. “You just have to keep us in line.”

Olivia smiled, but said nothing. Instead she turned around and nodded in direction of their server, whom she had asked to bring out a fruit tart and a candle to Paulina. The young man nodded in acknowledgment. He disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing the fruit tart from the refrigerator, and then walked out, accompanied by two other servers. They walked to the table where the trio was sat and the tart was placed in front of Paulina, who was looking utterly confused. She hadn’t expected them to do that. And she most certainly hadn’t thought that the restaurant would be one that sang Happy Birthday to customers, but there she was, with a tart in front of her and with the servers, along with her friends, singing Happy Birthday at the top of her lungs.

Tears stung at the corner of her eyes. She may have been thousands of miles from home, but she was among loved ones, people who genuinely cared about her and she was happy. Oh. She was happy. She hadn’t thought that the day was going to go as well as it had, but it’d been better. This was going to be a birthday that she was never going to forget and only thing would’ve made it better. But she wouldn’t dwell on that. At least not until she was able to make her birthday wish . . .

“Go on Paulin, make a wish!” Olivia smiled excitedly.

Paulina took in a deep breath, getting ready to make the exact same birthday wish she’d made at 3 o’clock that morning. It was a silly wish. So very childish, but she couldn’t help but make it.