The Thrill Is Gone

“About time you picked up!” cried an exasperated Paulina. “I’ve been calling nonstop for like the last half hour and no one’s answered. It’s like you all decided to just fucking ignore me, and guess what, that’s so not –”

“Whoa, calm the fuck down,” spoke Luis as he entered the Olive Garden’s men’s room. “I just answered the damn phone, and you’re already bitching. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to do that until at least a few minutes into the conversation?” he joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“This isn’t a time for jokes!”

“But it’s clearly time for you to drink some wine, maybe some tequila.”

She ignored his comment. “Why haven’t you guys picked up?”

“Because we’re at dinner,” he replied. “Isabel got on the Principal’s Honor Roll so everyone came out to the Olive Garden with her. That’s why no one’s picked up.” Luis explained. “Now what’s wrong with you? Because you sound fucking crazy, I mean you started telling me off right when I picked up the phone and that’s not normal, even for you. Hold up . . . is this number . . . is this a private number? Why the hell are you calling me from a private number? What happened to your cell phone? Did someone – oh fuck! Please don’t tell me that you got yourself arrested. Did you get yourself arrested?” his voice rose. “Pinche (fucking) Paulina, you know you have to behave yourself over there, we can’t just fly out and bail you out of –”

“I didn’t get arrested!” she told him, insulted by his idea.

“Are you in the hospital then? Something happened?” he asked, trying to figure out why his sister would be acting so crazy. “Find a nurse and put her on the phone with me, I’ll talk to her.”

“Luis, I'm not at a hospital. I'm fine. Okay? Perfectly healthy and not in a jail cell,” she reassured. “It’s just . . . I . . . aye Dios mio . . .” she trailed off, unable to say what had to be said.

He let out a soft sigh, thinking his sister just really missed them. “You’re homesick aren’t you?”

“Yes.” At that moment she truly wanted to be home with her family, to hide out in her old tree house and be far from England and its media. “But that’s not why I'm calling.”

“Then why are you calling?” he asked, quietly. ”What’s going on over there, chunky butt? Because you sounded really fucking insane when I picked up the phone,” said Luis.

“I know I did, but it’s just . . . I really need to talk to you. Well, not just you, I need to talk to everyone in the family.” Paulina took in a deep breath, trying to keep her breathing steady. “I . . .” she trailed off again, not knowing how to begin. She wished she could just blurt it out, but her thoughts were racing, her lip was trembling, and her heart feared what was to come. Harry noticed her agitation, and walked over to her, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her in close, hoping that his warm embrace would help give her the composure to carry on, and it was. “The press knows.”

Luis’ face flooded in alarm. “They know?” he choked out.

“They know,” she told him again, confirming his fear. “They found out about two hours ago.”

“How?” he asked.

“Um . . . well Henry and I went out to a club tonight. We wanted to go dancing and get some drinks, and we did, but then . . . then something happened, there was an incident, and his wig came off so everyone in the club saw him.” she tensed at the memory. “We knew we had to get out of there so we did, but then when we walked outside, there were cameras and they got pictures of us. But I don’t think they know my name, not yet at least. Henry covered my face with his jacket so they couldn’t get a clear shot, but it’s only a matter of time before they figure out who I am. So I just really need you guys to go home as soon as you can, let Isabel have her family dinner, and then take everyone home so I can explain what’s going on.”

“Yeah, for sure, I’ll let them know to go over to the house.” Luis promised. “But uh – are you okay though? How you holding up?” he asked, genuinely concerned for her emotional wellbeing. He couldn’t begin to imagine how shaken his little sister must have been feeling at that moment.

“I'm alright, just a little nervous. You know? I . . . I mean, we’d been talking about going public with our relationship, but we’d planned on doing it different.” She chuckled to keep herself from crying, and Harry, knowing that she needed some form of reassurance kissed the back of her neck softly. “I'm okay though. Henry’s been fantastic. He leapt right into action when the photographers saw us, so it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. And like I said, I'm fine. I will be fine. I just need to get things in order.”

Luis wasn’t convinced, but he knew not to press the subject further, at least not at that moment. “Whatever happens, remember that we’re always here for you, okay? No matter what la familia siempre esta unida (the family is always united).”

“I know Luis,” she whispered, sounding like her five year old self.

He didn’t want to hang up, but he knew it was time he returned to the table. “Look, I’ve gotta go. If I'm gone any longer mom will send Adrian looking for me, and she’ll tell me off when she sees me.”

“Shit, that’s right. You should go back then. And don’t worry, I-I'm fine. Just enjoy dinner and get them home so we can talk.” Paulina paused before hastily adding. “That reminds me. Can you make sure they’re in a really good mood when they get home? Please? Because they’ll be less likely to tell me off if they’re really happy.”

“Awe come on, you know that’s not true. Mom and Dad will tell anyone off regardless of their mood.” The words left his lips before he even processed the distress they might cause. “Shit! I didn’t mean that. Forget what I just said! I was being a dick. Okay? That’s it. I was just being a dick. And don’t worry, Mom and Dad won’t tell you off, it’ll be fine. Just don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. It was a fucking mess. She’d always known that telling her family about her relationship with Prince Harry wasn’t going to be easy, she’d known that from the start, but she’d had no idea just how hard it was actually going to be. She tried being straightforward about it, but when she parted her lips to tell them about Harry, the only noise that came out was a strange sound that strongly resembled a hiccup. After that, she tried building up to it by telling the story of how they’d met. Alright, well, she didn’t really them the story exactly how it happened, but she was as true to the truth as she could be. She told them about having met him at Alfred’s apartment and having punched him, but when it came time to give the young man a name, she grew flustered and started rambling. Her rambling only came to an end when Luis asked her what she was trying to say. At that moment, her eyes darted to Harry whom was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring intently at her, and without thinking twice, she motioned for him to get within range of the camera.

Harry had expected her parent’s eyes to widen in realization, to have her young niece and nephew shout that it was Prince Harry, but none of that happened. Luis, Adrian, and Thomas exchanged knowing looks, but everyone else was completely clueless as to who the ginger holding hands with Paulina was. Of course they knew who Prince Harry was, they’d all seen him at some point in their life, but he wasn’t massively famous in America, his face wasn’t plastered on the screen of their entertainment shows and when they went to the supermarket, they didn’t see him on the tabloid magazines, they saw American celebrities. The royal family wasn’t of their concern.

“Are you pregnant?” blurted out Raphael, his dark brown eyes narrowing in contempt at the ginger standing beside his sister.

“What? No! No, of course I'm not pregnant!” Paulina fiercely shook her head. “Why would you even think that? Dios me libre (God forbid),” she said, hastily making the sign out of the cross. “I just . . . this is my boyfriend, Harry.”

The moment those words left her lips, was the moment her father’s face flooded with color. How could his daughter have a boyfriend? How could she be with someone when he hadn’t met the young man or his family? No! No, that wasn’t acceptable. That wasn’t how things were done in their family. When she started dating Joaquin, Joaquin asked him for permission to take her out. He had gone to their home with a bouquet for his wife and a bottle of tequila for him, and respectfully asked if he could take Paulina out on a date. And after an hour of Ricardo interrogating Joaquin about his family and himself, he decided that Joaquin was a nice boy and that he could date his daughter. That’s how things were supposed to be done. That’s how they did it in his rancho in Mexico, that’s was how their family worked, but no, no his daughter went to England and she forgot how things were supposed to be done.

“Who is this boy?” asked Ricardo in his thick Spanish accent, though the way he asked it made it perfectly clear to everyone that it was the beginning to a rant. “I no know who this boy is. I never see him before. You no tell me you see boy. You no tell me he takes you on date. No! You only tell me you have boyfriend. That’s it! You no tell me if he is nice boy. If he comes from nice family! Nada nadita me dices (You don’t tell me anything, anything at all)!” he shook his head at them. “Why he no ask me if he can take you on date? Why you no ask?” he asked Harry, gruffly.

“Papi (daddy), we’re in England.” Paulina reminded. “We can’t just fly out to America.”

“But he can use computer,” stated Ricardo. “He has computer. You have computer, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Balcázar, I have a laptop.” Harry spoke, trying his best not to appear as nervous as he was.

“Then why you no use it?” Ricardo stared at him, questioningly.

“I . . . I didn’t think to.” Harry replied, and he truly hadn’t. He’d never had to ask anyone’s parents for permission to go out. “That’s not a common practice in England.”

“It is in my home.” Ricardo stated. “When Raphael wanted to date his wife, he ask her parents if he could. When Adrian moved in with Thomas, they ask me and my wife if they can. They respect family.”

“I meant no disrespect to your family.” Harry reassured. “Had I known it was so important, I would’ve asked.”

“Paulina should tell you.” Ricardo spoke, redirecting his gaze to his daughter. “Why you no tell him?”

“Papi, can you please just calm down?” implored Paulina. “I know you’re upset. I completely understand it, but the thing is, our relationship isn’t as easy – not to say that your relationships are easy, relationships are never easy, but the thing is, ours is more complicated.”

“How’s it more complicated?” questioned Raphael, gruffly.

“Rafa, chill out!” ordered Adrian as he shot his brother a glare.

“Why you telling me to chill out when our sister’s dating some guy we don’t even know? We don’t know if he’s a good guy, if he’s going to school, if he has a job, if he respects her, if –”

“Paulina wouldn’t be with someone that disrespects her,” snapped Adrian. “Give her some damn credit. She’s not an idiot! She knows what’s good for her and what’s not!”

“But maybe she’s blinded by the accent and that’s why she’s with that feo (ugly) ginger!” Raphael puffed out his chest, looking pleased with himself. “Did you ever think of that?”

“Don’t be stupid!” shouted Luis, getting into the action. “Chunky butt knows what she’s doing! If he’s her boyfriend, then he must be a stand up guy.”

“You two have lost your fucking minds!” shouted Raphael.

“PAPI!” cried Isabel, glaring at her dad from beneath her bangs. “You said a bad word!”

Raphael let out a sigh. “I know, Isa, I'm sorry. I just got angry.”

“You say we can’t use those words even when we’re angry.” Isabel declared. “You have to say sorry.”

“I'm sorry everyone,” he apologized, not wanting to upset his daughter any further. “That was out of line.”

“Now say sorry to Tia Paulin’s boyfriend.” Isabel ordered.

“Isa . . .”

“Say sorry.” Isabel folded her arms across her chest. “You were mean to him, and when people are mean, they make other people sad.”

Raphael didn’t want to apologize, but he’d been the one that taught his daughter that bad words make people sad, so he swallowed his pride and said, “I'm sorry for cursing and being hostile.”

“That’s fine, really.” Harry smiled reassuringly.

There was a silence, an unnerving silence that had everyone standing around awkwardly, and that time it was Irmalinda who broke it.

“What’s complicated?” she asked.

Paulina looked up at Harry and he offered an affectionate smile. “He’s a Prince.” She said, looking back at the screen. “Prince Harry of Wales, to be precise,” she said.

Almost immediately, Raphael burst into laughter. There was no way in hell that his sister was dating a Prince. No fucking way. That ginger must’ve convinced her that he was, and she was so smitten that she’d fallen for the lie.

“Why are you laughing?” she yelled at Raphael.

“Because that ginger’s not a Prince!” he told her.

“Yes he is!” she was insulted that he didn’t believe her. “I want you to Google him. Do it right now!” Raphael didn’t budge. “Luis, please look him up.”

“Alright,” he said, and made his way to the computer where he typed in Prince Harry’s name, and the first thing that popped up in the search engine was a picture of Prince Harry and Paulina. Luis had been prepared for the picture. She’d told him that photographers had taken snaps of them, but when he saw the terrified look on his sister’s face, when he saw her furrowed brow and slightly parted lips, he felt himself at a loss. “They have . . . you’re in the picture.”

“I'm what?” she asked.

“You’re in the picture, with him.” Luis said.

She looked up at Harry. “But you covered me with your jacket.”

“Let’s give it a look, but I could have sworn they didn’t get you.” Harry closed the window and typed in his name, sure enough, there they were. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “That sneaky wanker got the shot.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” she repeated. “They have my face there. They’re gonna . . .” she shook her head, tears blinding her vision.

“Shh, it’ll be alright,” Harry cooed, taking her into his arms. “We’ll get through this, I promise. I’ll have Alistair bring the lady that handles the press so she can help. It’ll be alright, really.”

That tender show of affection warmed Irmalinda’s heart. The gentleness in his voice, the concern, the love, it got right to her romantic sensibilities, and she no longer looked at him as a danger to her daughter. The others were not so moved, they thought better of him, surely, but Ricardo and Raphael still distrusted him. His being royal only served to make them even more suspicious.

“Thank you,” she mumbled into Harry’s chest before pulling away. She took in a deep breath and then turned to her family. “Do you understand now, Rafa? I couldn’t tell you guys, because I didn’t know whether we were going to become serious and go public. And we made the decision that we would about a week ago, but this wasn’t how. I'm sure you guys read the story. There was a fight at a club. That’s why Henry’s all bloodied up.”

“Why’d he get into the fight, though?” asked Thomas.

“Because a bloke disrespected her,” replied Harry. “I went to fetch us some waters, and then I heard her telling off that bloke for having touched her inappropriately. I made my presence known, told him not to talk to her like that because she was my girlfriend, and then he said a few things that need not be repeated, and well, I punched him in the face, several times.”

That was enough to warm Ricardo. “Good! Very good!” he nodded in approval. “You defend honor like real man.”

“Yes, Sir, I did.” Harry was relieved that her dad was impressed by that. “Your daughter’s honor is very important to me. I respect her very much, and I know that we got off on the wrong foot, with my not being mindful of your traditions, but I do hope your family will give me a chance to prove myself.”

Ricardo looked over to his wife, and when she nodded, he returned his gaze to the camera on the computer.

“We give chance,” he said. “But you respect.”

“Yes, of course Sir.”

“And you help with the cameras, because she there to learn. Okay? School most important.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. She’s a Rhodes Scholar and must keep up her grades.”

“If she doesn’t, her mom goes to England.” Ricardo declared.

Irmalinda nodded. “If I go, you only see her on Sundays for two hours.”

“Mama,” groaned Paulina.

“Don’t Mama, me!” exclaimed Irmalinda. “You keep good grades or I go.”

“Yes, mom,” said Paulina.

Their SKYPE session lasted another hour, and in that hour, many questions were asked of Harry. They mostly revolved around his intentions with Paulina, though a few others were made of whether they had told his family and how he expected them to react. When the interrogating reached its end, Paulina made them promise that they wouldn’t talk about her or Harry to any of their friends, any family or to anyone else. It was imperative that nothing be told to the media that would surely bug her family, and she also made her mom promise to call her relatives up and swear them to secrecy as well. When their conversations came to an end, the laptops were closed, and a wave of relief washed over Harry and her. They’d finished dealing with her family; now all that was left was to deal with everyone else.