The Thrill Is Gone

“There’s no bloody point to this!” he complained, angrily tossing the book aside. “I'm rubbish. Absolute rubbish at revising! Honestly, I fucking hated having to revise while I was at Eton! That’s why I never went to uni, but now these bastards want me to revise for an interview – an interview! It’s not even an exam. Well, I mean there’ll be an exam, but it’s not even a proper exam, it’s just an assessment! Nothing that serious, mostly just an interview to see if they like me well enough to let me in and I’ve half a mind to just tell them off and force them to let me in. Can’t I do that?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. He was far too caught up in himself to even notice how much of a prat he sounded like. “I can. I know I can. I'm a royal! They can’t say no to a royal. And it’ll be better that way. Yes. Loads better. I won’t have to stress about it. I’ll revise when the time comes for it, when there’s an exam on the line, but for now there’s no point in going through these bloody books for some interview. I’m physically fit. Everything of mine works properly. And that’s what really matters. Isn’t it? Of course it is. I’ve a willing body. Not to mention, I'm a hands on learner. All they’ve got to do is show me something once, and I’ll be fine at it. No. Not fine. Brilliant, I’ll be brilliant. So those bastards will just have to let me through without their absurd interview process. It’s what’s best and – why you looking at me like that? I’ve not done anything wrong! Ya can’t be cross with me if I’ve not done anything wrong!” He paused, unsure as to whether he had done something wrong. “What’d I do?”

“You’re acting like a dick.” She didn’t try to tiptoe around the point, she was blunt because she hated when he acted like a snob. “That’s what you’re doing.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re acting like a dick.”

“Why would ya even say that? I'm not acting like a dick. I'm simply –”

“You’re simply saying that you’re going to use your influence as a royal to skip the interview process that everyone has to go through, just because you don’t feel like studying.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel like studying! I'm rubbish at it. That’s all.”

“You’re not rubbish at it. You’re just not making an effort, and don’t say you are, because you stared at the same page for the last half hour. No one takes thirty minutes to read a page! Even if they’re taking notes on it, they move on quicker than that, but you’re zoning out because you hate studying and can’t be bothered with it.”

“That’s not true!” he grumbled.

“Yes. It is. And you know it! You’re not applying yourself, Harry. And look, I understand that it’s been awhile since you last studied, but you have to make an effort at it. All you had to do was read the first chapter, and then we were gonna discuss it. But you didn’t get passed the first page. And while I waited for you to finish, I started making flashcards of all the important terms you need to know.”

“Well excuse me for not having a Rhodes ethic when it comes to studying. Sorry I'm not up to your bloody standards.”

“My standards?” she nearly scoffed. “Look Henry, I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but don’t be getting all snippy at me. All I'm trying to do is help you. That’s it. I'm not trying to make you into a Rhodes Scholar. You don’t like studying. Universities aren’t for you. I get that. Okay? I get that you’d rather be out in the world, doing something than be going through a mountain of books, but right now, you don’t have a choice. Right now, you have to read this,” she picked up the book he’d tossed, “And a whole lot of other books to be prepared for your interview.”

“But the interview’s not important.” He argued.

“If it wasn’t important, then you wouldn’t have bought two copies of every book so I could help you study,” she countered. “I know that you’re really nervous about this, but Henry, you can’t take the easy way out.”

His eyes narrowed in contempt. “I'm not trying to take the easy way out!” he yelled.

“Yes, you are! You’re saying that you’re going to get through the interview process, because of your title not because of your worth.”

“My worth?” he questioned.

“Yes, your worth.” Paulina didn’t falter despite the hard look he was shooting her. “You are an intelligent, capable, clever young man. Put that on display for them. Don’t put the crown out there. Don’t put your family on center stage. You’re always going on about how you hate having to always be connected back to the monarchy, how you’re never just you. Well guess what? This is your opportunity to not be Prince Henry of Wales, but to be Lieutenant Wales, the bloke that’s trying to fulfill his dreams of being an apache helicopter pilot.”

“But what if he’s not good enough?” he blurted out in a moment of vulnerability. “What if Harry Wales is shit? What then?”

“Harry Wales isn’t shit,” she firmly declared. “He’s my favorite person in the world.”

At any other time, that would’ve been enough to calm his raging self and warm his heart, but his foul mood had made him so petulant that not even a compliment like that could pacify him.

“Prince Harry’s your favorite,” he said without thinking. “He’s everyone’s favorite.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Prince Harry,” she shot back, offended by his word choice. “I'm not dating him. I'm dating Henry, the bloke that I have to pester into washing his hands after he uses the bathroom, because he swears that there’s nothing dirty about piss, and that when he craps, he has paper as a barrier. I'm dating the bloke that thinks American football is rubbish but always sits down to watch it with me. I'm dating the bloke that once wiped his ass with one of my pads, because he couldn’t find another roll of toilet paper, which were right behind the pads. That’s who I'm dating. Does it sound like Harry’s a prince? Because it sure as fuck doesn’t to me,” she paused. “So don’t you ever tell me that I'm dating your title, because the next time you do, you’ll be on the other side of that door. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She took off her newly prescribed reading glasses and settled them down on the table. “I'm gonna fix us up something to eat. Maybe it’ll do you good to take a break. You can go out to the balcony, get some fresh air. I’ll take the food out when it’s ready. But just so you know, as soon as break’s over, we’re getting back to studying. Because you’re gonna kick ass as that interview. By the time you’re done, they’ll be begging you to go through the training.”

“That’s a lot of confidence.”

“My confidence in you is unwavering,” she spoke as she stood up. “You’re an amazing man, Henry. Sometimes you can be a bit thick, but amazing nonetheless.”

He watched in silence as she moved in direction of the kitchen, her dark curls bouncing with each step she took. He knew she was right about him having sounded like a dick. In the heat of the moment, everything he’d said had made sense, but now that he had a clearer mind, now that he could properly think, he knew he couldn’t just rely on his title to move ahead in the interview process. The Army Air Corps was the one place where he was treated like any other bloke. Well, that is to say, where he was treated as close as a person like him could ever come to be treated like a regular bloke. He had to go through the same process as everyone else, abide by the same rules, and the last thing he wanted was to bring in more of his royal life into the Army Air Corps than he absolutely had to. He would move ahead in the process based on his own worth. He would study even if the mere thought of studying made him want to bang his head against the wall.

And determined to fully dedicate himself to preparing for the interview, he grabbed the book off the coffee table and took it out to the small balcony. He’d have himself some fresh air and finish the first chapter so that after they finished eating, they’d be able to discuss it. He wanted to demonstrate to her that he truly appreciate her taking the time out of her day to read all the books he had to read, and to help guide him through the learning experience, if it hadn’t been for her, he probably would’ve half assed the studying, and been nervous all through the interview, which would’ve probably forced him to drop his Gran or dad’s name. But now he wouldn’t do that, because he’d be enough.

And in a week’s time, Harry passed his Army Air Corps grading assessment, and then wowed the panel that comprised the Pilot Selection Board. He was charming. He was witty. He showed a knowledgeableness that surpassed all the other applicants. The hours upon hours of studying had truly paid off.

While he was immersed in the assessment process, Paulina and Alistair waited for him at a café across the street. Ideally, they would’ve sat towards the back, in some dark corner where people would’ve had a hard time staring at her, but because they were both quite eager to see when Harry exited the building, they’d opted on sitting right next to the store front window, which led to people walking by looking in at her, and to the paparazzi having a clear shot of her. Not that they took many pictures. After the first half hour of watching her drink tea, and smile, they sort of just decided to watch her, in case she did something camera worthy. But there was a slim chance of that happening. All she did was talk to Alistair, and there was nothing camera worthy about that.

“Are you planning on going home for the holidays?” she inquired. “Well not home to like your house, but to where you hail from. Or are you gonna be stuck working?”

“I do plan on traveling to my parent’s home this holiday season. It’s where everyone in my family gathers for Christmas.” He explained. “I was initially scheduled to work during those days, but Harry demanded that I be given time off, since I'm so often his security detail. Thankfully there was no difficulty in accommodating the week off for me. And I'm quite certain that Kamal will enjoy himself in Sandringham. It’s impossible to not do so in such a grand house, and while the royal are all gathered, there’s not really much to be done. The security details are left to themselves for the most part.”

“I'm glad they were able to give you the week off,” she said, her sincerity apparent in her tone. “You’re always going along with Harry, and I honestly thought you were his only security detail until I met Kamal.”

“Did you really?”

She nodded. “You’re the only person I ever met. So I just thought that Harry only had you looking after him.”

“I'm afraid that’s too large a task even for me.” Alistair smiled. “I tend to be with Harry more often than not. In the week, I have about one or two days off, and alternate hours with Kamal. That way there’s always someone who’s well rested to look after him.”

“That’s good thinking.” She took a drink from her tea. “Are you and Kamal the only ones that work security?”

“We are the primary security details for His Royal Highness, but there is a third, who assists when Kamal or I have a day off though he’s not exclusively Harry’s. He’s general security. He’s a nice lad though. I don’t think you’ll be meeting him in the neat future, but he’s a nice lad.” Alistair reached down and rubbed his knee, it had a chronic ache. “Are you planning to return to America for the holidays, Miss?”

Her smile faltered momentarily. She was still tempted to get a flight back to California just so she could spend the holidays there, but she knew that it was better to just spend the time in England. Her days there were numbered so she had to take advantage of the ones she had left.

“No,” she replied. “I'm actually gonna stay in Oxford for Christmas. My friend Rudy’s flying in for a few days since his internship in Berlin’s gonna end like a week before Christmas, so he wants to spend some time here before he heads back to Azusa.”

“Has he visited Britain in the past?” inquired Alistair.

“This’ll be his first time.” Paulina brushed her bangs out of her face. “He’s pretty much stayed local in Germany, except for one time that he went over to Amsterdam for a holiday.”

“Amsterdam?”

She nodded, smiling as she did so. “I was actually supposed to fly out there to meet up with him and his friends, but then everyone found out that I was dating Harry. So I ended up not going, because I though traveling to Amsterdam would make me look bad.”

“Not everyone that visits Amsterdam chooses to partake in certain activities that are looked down upon.”

“That’s true, but the thing is, well . . . you know.”

Alistair did indeed. He’d been around her and Harry when they were stoned out of their minds.

“I suppose you did the right thing by not traveling then.” Alistair glanced down and noticed his tea was gone. “It seems I’ve run out of tea. Hmm, I suppose I’ll fetch another cup. Would you care for some, Miss?”

“No thank you. I'm good.” She watched as he reached to take his jacket. “You can leave it here if you want. That way you don’t have to be all bundled up in that crowd. I’ll watch over it.”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be a bother?”

“Of course not,” she reassured, smiling warmly. “Just go get your tea, and I’ll stand watch for our ginger.”

Alistair thanked her, and then grabbed his wallet from the jacket so he could order himself another tea. As he did that, Paulina moved his chair closer so she could keep an eye on the building across the street and the jacket. With all the paparazzi around it wasn’t a clear view to where Harry would emerge from, but it was decent enough.

The photographers outside watched intently as she looked out the window. Their hands were inching towards their cameras, and when they saw a little smile play across her lips, they turned around, believing that Harry had exited the building, but when they turned around, they didn’t see the young royal, they just saw pedestrians walking around. They looked back at her, wondering why she was smiling. They imagined she was remembering something funny regarding Harry, but in truth there was no real reason for her smile, she was just smiling to smile. She was happy in the moment, content to be there waiting for him to emerge from his interview, and to be able to give him a great big hug.

Earlier in the day, she’d been nervous for him. They’d spent the entire drive over from Oxford going over terms and discussing possible questions. They’d been in full blown exam mode, and had even gotten into a few arguments, because Harry was so snippy. But after Harry stepped into the building, the nerves vanished. She knew that after a week of nonstop studying he was going to do great. He’d truly devoted himself to the material, showing a more studious side to himself.

Growing tired of looking out the window, she redirected her attention to the café, where the majority of the patrons were shooting her looks. She could see some of them had their camera phones out; they were taking pictures at bad angles that would end up on their social media accounts. She was tempted to take her phone out to take pictures of them, just to freak them out, but decided against it, it was too early in the day for that sort of confrontation, she just wanted to enjoy her tea while she waited for her boyfriend to come out. That was it.

“I thought you might care for a scone.” Alistair said when he returned to their table. “We’ve been here nearly four hours so I thought you might fancy something to eat. For my part, I'm verging on the ravenous.”

“Thanks so much, Alistair.” Had it been anyone else, she would’ve asked how much it had been and given them the money, but after doing that nonstop for several months, Alistair had quite literally taken a moment to tell her to not offer to pay, because he’d never accept a dime. “I hadn’t even realized I was getting hungry. Guess I was too caught up in thinking about Harry.”

“He’ll do well, Miss.” Alistair handed her the plate with her scone. “He sounded very knowledgeable during the drive over. I'm sure the panel is quite taken with him.”

“So am I, but I just wish he was out already so we could hear how it went.”

Seventeen minutes later, Harry called Alistair to ask him to bring the car around, and as soon as the vehicle had pulled up, Harry rushed into the backseat.

“How was it?” asked Paulina as soon as Alistair closed Harry’s door.

Harry had planned on pretending that it hadn’t gone well, but he couldn’t contain his joy.

“I did it!” he exclaimed, a massive grin on his handsome face. “I fucking knew nearly everything on the assessment. There were only two questions I was off about. And the interview . . . bloody hell the interview was even better than the assessment. I impressed them. They didn’t say it, not really, but they had that look in their eyes that people get when they approve of other people, and bloody hell . . . I can’t believe I did it. We did it.”

“Not even,” she said. “You did all the work, güerito. When are they gonna tell you that you’re moving on in the program?”

“They already did.” He told her. “Yeah, while I was in my interview they had the assessment graded, and since I scored high marks, that was well, and then the board approved of me, so I’ll be getting something in the mail to say when my training will be –”

He didn’t get to finish his statement. Out of excitement, Paulina pounced on him, pressing her lips eagerly onto his. He was shocked for a second, but when it passed, he began to move his lips against hers with the same level of excitement and passion. They kissed in the backseat of the car, not caring if there were photographers swarming the vehicle, eager to snap photos of the very public display of affection. They’d never seen them do anything more than hold hands and hug, give each other innocent looking kisses, but at that moment, Paulina was straddling his midsection, and he was holding onto her hips for dear life. It was the sort of picture that would act as the cover for all the major tabloid magazines, and it was the sort of picture that would make a certain Queen think Paulina an even more massive tart.