The Thrill Is Gone

“Well, I think they’re lovely!” there was a sloppy, lopsided grin on his face. “And you’re lovely. Honestly enjoyed being with you that day. Or was it night? Fuck it. I enjoyed being with you, during the time that I was with you. That’s . . .” he hiccupped. “That’s why I asked Alistair to go get you. So we could have a laugh up here.”

“And drinks, can’t forget the drinks.” Paulina added, grinning just as foolishly as he. “Mm, speaking of drinks, I need some water,” she set the vodka down on the small table in front of them and made a move to stand up, but when she did, she ended up losing her balance and stumbling backwards. “Water’s overrated,” she mumbled when she collapsed on the couch.

“Alive over there?” asked Harry from beside her, eyes focused intently on her face.

“Dying of thirst, but alive, for now,” she replied, struggling to sit up. “Can I have a hand? Or you just gonna watch me struggle?”

“Thought ya had it,” he told her.

“Nope, don’t have it, really far from having it.” Paulina muttered. “So . . . that hand. Am I gonna get it or what?”

“Bossy, bossy,” he grumbled. “Here,” he held out his hands for her. “Oi!” he exclaimed. “Got to be careful, don’t try to move so fast or you’ll . . . puke or something.”

“I don’t puke every time I drink.” Paulina said defensively. “Only reason I puked was cuz we ran away from the police. And the running made my stomach go crazy and . . . and you shouldn’t be complaining about me puking, because if it hadn’t been for me puking, we would’ve gotten arrested. Wait. That doesn’t sound right. You know what I mean though, right?”

He wasn’t really sure about what she was rambling on about, but despite that, he nodded, knowing very well that drunks have a way of being more agreeable when people go along with whatever the hell they’re saying. That was how he was when he drank, how Will was, and the odds were that that was how his peculiar American friend was, so he nodded and smiled, smile and nodded, as if he had a clue about what she was trying to say. And as he smiled, he noticed just how bright her eyes lit up when she talked. There was something hypnotizing about them that just drew him in. He’d never been particularly partial to brown eyes, but there was something about hers that just made him want to forget everything around him for awhile.

“Let’s get out of here.” Harry blurted out, his face only inches from hers as he helped her sit up.

“What?” she didn’t think she’d heard right.

“Let’s leave.” He told her. “Go somewhere. Have some . . . well, don’t know what we could have, but let’s just go. I think, you and me, we get on really well. So let’s make a night out of this. Yeah?” he asked, hopefully.

“I'm not fucking you.”

“S’alright.” Harry reassured. “Find something else to do, but you know, but you know, if we get bored or something we could . . .”

“Not fucking you.” Paulina repeated, inwardly thanking herself for being drunk, because if she hadn’t been, he would’ve seen the blush that invaded her cheeks. “Don’t think I can get bored enough to risk gonorrhea.”

“I’ll have you know, I got tested.”

“And?” she asked, finally sitting straight up with her back resting against the couch.

“Tests came back negative.” He said, rather proudly. “Always do, ya know.”

“Hmm, don’t believe you.” Paulina ran a hand through her hair, grimacing slightly when she realized just how sticky her fingers felt. “Ugh. Need to wash my hands, they’re all sticky. Yours sticky?” she asked

Harry felt his hands and then nodded. “Think it’s from all the alcohol. Some of it probably poured out. I should call Alistair to bring us some water. Ah. Right, you wanted water to drink. Nearly forgot about that. Mm, where’s my mobile? Mobile? Mobile?” he called to it as if it were a lost puppy. “Ah! There you are.” The phone was quickly picked up and Alistair was dialed. “Alistair? Yes, yes, I'm fine. Really, everything’s fine. Calling because we need water, lots of water, well, not lots, I think, uh, two bottles should do. That fine? Yes. Okay, thanks!” he stashed the phone into his pant pocket. “Water should be here soon. Want anything else?”

“No, no thanks. I'm fine.”

“Positive?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled reassuringly at him, as she nestled further into the couch.

As discreetly as she could, she glanced over at Harry, watching from the corner of her eyes, as he ran a hand through his unruly red hair. It was in desperate need of a trim, there were bits sticking out along the side and on the top, there was a small pouch that either needed loads of product to sort it out, or a trim to get rid of it altogether. But despite the messy state that his hair was in, she couldn’t help but think him attractive. No. Not attractive, well, not just attractive, but handsome. He wasn’t mainstream handsome, not like the men in films or the great men of novels, but there was something appealing about his features, which were very boyish, and seemingly out of place on a grown man that drank and shagged as often as he did.

Her gaze didn’t linger long on his face, and when she redirected her attention to the table in front of her, she was left to contemplate the thoughts that her drunken mind had suddenly unleashed upon her. For some reason – which she thought she’d never really understand – Harry had invited her to spend time with him, to have a laugh and drinks. In her drunken haze, her overactive mind argued that he’d done it because he’d taken a liking to her, that he’d found her company exhilarating, and perhaps, even thought her pretty. But the rational part of her, that small sober bit that the booze hadn’t managed to get rid of, refused to indulge those thoughts. He was just bored. That was it. There was nothing more to it. He was probably bored of being around the same sort of people all the time and doing the same things, so he figured that she’d be a nice change of pace for the night.

And tomorrow, whenever it was that he’d wake from his alcohol induced slumber, he’d go back to his regular routine. He would do whatever it was that princes did with their time. He wasn’t going to seek her out. He wasn’t going to phone her or send a post her way, even if that was precisely what her drunken self wanted to believe. And to be honest, she wasn’t even sure if he’d remember having spent time with her. He was proper drunk. If he got a few more drinks in him, he’d be smashed and liable to black out, right there on the couch.

“Why ya so quiet?” he asked.

“Hmm?” she turned to look at him. “Oh. Just, uh, hah, I don’t know. Think I might be getting tired.”

“Tired? That words not allowed in this booth thing, whatever this is.” Harry declared. “We must be at the ready!”

“What are we, going to war?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“War against what?” she asked, fighting back her laughter.

“Boredom, obviously,” he tilted his head towards her, a bright grin spreading across his lips. “So what we doing then?” he asked. “Once we get our hands tidied and all that, I mean.”

“Thought you were gonna come up with something to do.”

“Me? No, not me,” he said. “It’s your birthday! We’ve got to celebrate and you’ve got to say how we celebrate.”

“Let’s go out for a walk.”

“A walk?” he repeated, shooting her a questioning look.

Paulina nodded. “It’ll be awesome. We can wander around. See what London is at night! Who knows, maybe it’s more magical than Paris!”

“Paris?” he scoffed. “London’s loads better than Paris. Anyone that’s been to Paris and London knows that.”

“That so?” she pursed her lips together.

“It is.” He said, very matter-of-factly. “And anyone who thinks Paris is better than London is mental.” It was then that he paused. “Did you like Paris more when ya went?”

“I’ve never been.” Paulina admitted, realizing just how foolishly she sounded for arguing on behalf of a city that she’d never been to. “But I’ve seen it in a bunch of movies, so, I'm pretty sure I know how amazing it is.”

“Don’t think you do, because if you knew, then you’d think London was better, but since you don’t, you . . . what was I saying?” he burst into laughter. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “Think I might’ve finally lost it!”

His laughter was infectious. It was so genuine and full of mirth, that she found herself laughing alongside him, her own eyes twinkling in delight as they exchanged a drunken laugh on the couch.

“I think,” he said, after managing to reign in his laughter, “That we can’t just go walking around London.”

“But you said I got to choose.” Paulina reminded him. “Don’t pretend ya didn’t, cuz you did.”

“I know, I know, but we won’t make it a block before we’re swarmed. Then you’ll have bloody cameras in your face and there won’t be any getting rid of them.”

“Ah, right, right. Hah. For a moment, I’d forgotten you were a prince.”

“Did ya now?”

“Mhm,” she replied. “You were being so normal that I thought you were normal. But you’re not. Harry is a prince! And he should probably be sleeping so he can do prince stuff, early.”

Harry snorted. “Hah. Rather muck about than sleep.”

“That what we doing? Mucking about?”

“Mm, no, not yet,” he said. “Right now, we’re trying to figure out how to muck about.” Harry’s eyes flickered to the door. “Alistair! Always so quick,” he mumbled. “Don’t know how ya do it. If I was you, I’d take ages to get anything done.”

“Then it is a good thing that you are not me, Sir.” Alistair approached the table, holding both water bottles on a platter, much like the platters that he’d brought in with the drinks that they’d had earlier in the night. “Sir,” he lowered the platter so that Harry could take one. “Miss,” he then turned to Paulina.

“Thank you.” She took the water bottle from the platter. “It’s nice and cold.”

“That it is.” Alistair said. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, Alistair, thank you.” Harry lifted the bottle to his lips and took a short drink. “Water always tastes better after drinking. Why do ya think that is?”

Paulina poured some water onto her hands. “Probably cuz we’re dehydrated and our bodies don’t want to be hung-over, so they’re like, waters delicious, even though its not. Well, I don’t think it is. I drink a lot of water, but it’s not because I actually like the taste, it’s because my mom’s always made us drink so much water that the habit sort of just stuck.” She lifted the bottle of water to her lips. “You like water?”

“S’alright. Nothing grand about it, though.” Harry set his bottle down. “What we doing then?”

“I wanted to go walking but you said no.”

“Cuz I don’t know if you’d want the press hounding you.” He paused. “Do ya want them hounding you?”

She shook her head.

“Then what else do ya want to do?”

Before she could answer, her phone began to ring.

“Sorry, have to take this,” she pulled it out of her jacket and frowned when she saw Olivia’s name flashing on the screen. She’d completely forgotten about Alfred and Olivia. And she felt absolutely horrible for having done so. “Via?” she spoke into the phone.

“Paulin!” bellowed Olivia, clearly drunk. “We was wondering where you were. Been looking for you for like . . . ages and we’ve not found you! Have you run off on us?”

“We’ll send a search party if ya did.” Alfred shouted into the phone. “Well, won’t really be a search party since it’ll just be me and Via, but still. Where are you?”

“Wait. Wait. Wait. Hold on. I haven’t gone off. I'm still in the club!” said Paulina.

“Says she’s still in the club,” Alfred told Olivia.

“She is?” Olivia’s face lit up. “Well, ask her where she’s at. We’ll go and fetch her so we can go home.”

“Via wants to know where you’re at so we can get you.” Alfred stated.

“I'm . . .” she contemplated whether or not telling that that she was in the private room, would be a good idea. They’d pester her with questions if they knew, and would stop at nothing until they found out exactly why she was there. So instead of telling them where she was, she opted to lie. “Well, not all that sure about where I am. But why don’t you guys to over to the bar, and then I’ll meet up with you right there.”

“She doesn’t know where she is?” cried a panic stricken Olivia. “Stay calm, Paulin!” she shouted in a voice that was far from calm or reassuring. “We’ll – we’ll go fetch you! Alfie, find her GPS thing.”

“What GPS thing?” he asked.

“You know that thing that comes in phones that you can find people with? That thing that police use on the teli,” she added gestures to go along with her words.

Unfortunately, her drunken gestures didn’t make any sense, and Alfred was left trying to understand what she was saying and trying to decipher her strange gestures. He stood quiet, watching with curious eyes as she continued to ramble about his having to turn something on. What that thing was, he hadn’t a clue, but she was very adamant about it.

“Know what I'm talking about?” asked Olivia.

“Haven’t a bloody clue,” admitted Alfred, not bothering to lie.

Olivia groaned loudly. “That thing in mobiles that police can use to track down people!”

“Well why didn’t ya say that to begin with?” grumbled Alfred.

Olivia shot him a look that made it very clear that she had indeed said that.

“Sorry, sorry, must not have heard,” mumbled Alfred. “But I’ve no way of tracing her like the police.” He then lifted the phone back to his ear. “Paulin?” he called to her.

“Yeah?” replied Paulina.

“Via, wants us to act like the police, but we’ve not the means to. Can you just – just come out? Please?”

“That’s what I said I was gonna do!” she nearly laughed. “Just wait by the bar. Okay? I said the bar! Yes. Yes, the one on the main floor. That fine? Okay, good. And don’t let Via drink anymore, sounds like she’ll have to be carried home soon. Yes. Yes. Love you to Olivia. Ah. Yes, I’ll be there soon. Well, I don’t know how soon, however soon I can. Okay? Alright, I'm hanging up now, hanging up!”

“Leaving already?” Harry pouted. “What happened to celebrating?”

“Don’t think it’s gonna be happening, sorry.” Paulina nervously smiled at him. “See I’d forgotten that I came with friends, and they’re, uh, they’re ready to go home, so I have to get going.”

“Tell them, I’ll take you home.” Harry said. “Have you dropped off safely at the flat,” he said, thinking that that would solve the matter and keep the night going as planned.

“Are you serious?”

Harry nodded. “It’s your birthday. You’re meant to be celebrating, not sleeping like some ninny.”

“I, well, that sounds rad, really rad, but I can’t. I mean, I shouldn’t. I already ditched them the entire night. Can’t let them go home without me, they’ll be freaking out.”

“Hasn’t any of you ever gone off with someone after a club?” he asked.

“Nope,” she replied, smiling shyly. “We always go home together, even if we’re throwing up and can’t walk right. But I had fun. I had so much fun with you. Thanks for this.”

Harry was taken aback by her behavior. He wasn’t used to having people not go along with his plans. Whenever he invited people to go out with him, they went out with him. No questions asked. That was how things had always been for him. So why was she saying that she had to leave?

“Did I offend you?” he asked, puzzled by her.

“No!” she said, a little more loudly than she would’ve liked. “No, you didn’t. You were so fucking great, but I really have to go. I can’t leave my friends hanging. Sorry, if I could stay I would, but I can’t, so I’ll just be going now.” Paulina scooted to the edge of the cushion and slowly began to stand up. “Thank you, Harry. This was a birthday to remember.”

“Let me at least have Alistair help you get to the bar. You can’t be walking around like that.”

“I’ll manage.”

“No, ya want. You’ll fall down the stairs and break some bones.” Harry pulled out his phone and called Alistair. “Alistair? Can you come up, please? Paulina needs to go down to the bar. No, no, she doesn’t want any drinks. She’s meeting her friends there. Can you? Okay, thank you.” He put his phone away. “He’ll be here shortly.”

“Thank you.” Paulina placed a hand on the table to keep her balance. “Can’t believe we spent the night up here,” she mumbled more to herself than to him. “It was amazing.”

“It was.” Harry agreed, trying to stand. “It would’ve been even better later on, but you know, ya can’t stay.”

“I really can’t.”

“Sure, sure, probably just want to get away from me, you do.”

“And why would I wanna do that? You might be kind of off, but you’re pretty fun.”

Before he could say anything, the door opened and Alistair walked inside.

“Miss,” he bowed his head politely at Paulina. “The bar, was it?”

“Yes, Alistair, thank you.” Paulina attempted to smooth out her dress and threw her jacket on. “Guess it’s time to go. Goodnight Sir.” She did a drunken semblance of a curtsy before stumbling towards the door, where Alistair offered her, his arm.

“Wait.” Harry spoke. “Can I see you again?”

She turned her face to see him. “Call me. And maybe you can.”

“How am I supposed to phone you? I don’t have your mobile.”

“You’re Royal.” Paulina declared. “I'm sure you can find me if you really want to.”