The Thrill Is Gone

Morning came much sooner than Harry would’ve liked. If it had been up to him, time would have stood still, letting him get much needed sleep, but it wasn’t up to him to decide when morning arrived. And as William stood beside his bed, shaking him in an attempt to wake him up, all Harry could do was lay there, pretending to be asleep so that his brother would give up and just let him be. Harry didn’t want to have breakfast with their uncle. He personally didn’t care for Lord Fellowes. All the old man cared about was status. He bragged about his connection to them, to anyone that would listen. Lord Fellowes boasted that the young Princes were very attentive towards his children and there had been many a time when Harry had considered dropping the relation all together, but whenever he looked at his aunt, he saw a trace of his own mother in her face.

That was why he kept in touch with them, because Lady Fellowes bore resemblance to his mother. Not a striking resemblance, it wasn’t obvious at first glance but if one looked hard enough, the expressions were similar, the eyes lit up just as hers had done. But his aunt wouldn’t be at breakfast. She was visiting her eldest daughter, Laura, whom was in the midst of planning her wedding. Since she wasn’t there, Harry thought it best to just stay in bed. He knew it’d be rude to not take breakfast with the person whose home he was staying in, but he just didn’t feel like it. He’d had to much to drink last night, which would make pretending to listen to Lord Fellowes drone on and on about tedious matters, an impossible task. If he were to sit through breakfast with Lord Fellowes, Harry would be liable to send a snarky remark at the elderly man.

“Harry!” hissed William. “Stop being such a child and get out of bed.”

“Can’t,” Harry mumbled into his pillow, “I'm sleeping.”

“Don’t have time for this.” William threw the covers off Harry. “Go shower and get dressed. Breakfast is in a half hour and make sure to throw on some decent clothes. Lord Fellowes demands perfection.”

“Who the fuck is he to demand anything from me?” countered Harry.

“Family,” replied William. “And you may not care for him, but there may come a time when you need his help, so get dressed, Harry. And give that mouth a good scrubbing, smells like it’s not been cleaned in ages.”

That statement earned William a pillow to the face.

“I'm being serious here.” William huffed.

“If it’ll stop you’re nagging, I’ll get up.” Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, an arm rested on the bed for support and the other shot to his stomach, which felt all sorts of mixed up. “How much longer do we have to stay here again?”

“Tuesday,” William watched as Harry’s lips parted to protest. “We have to do an unveiling at the hospital. Remember?”

“I’ll go mad!”

“Well go mad, if you like, but you’re going to be there! We both promised we’d be there. We gave our word. I know it might not be the most exciting thing, but our lives can’t just be about excitement, we’ve got to give back.”

“Are you having a jab at me?”

“Harry . . .”

“Are you having a jab at me?” he repeated, his voice growing louder.

“Not everything is a bloody jab at you!”

“Well this sounds like it is!”

“It’s not.” William declared. “This is just me telling my younger brother what we have to do. I don’t mean to insult you or to belittle you. All I'm trying to do is remind you that these events aren’t just boring events, but that they protect our livelihood and endear people to us. So please, Harry, don’t make this into a fight. I'm not Nan or dad.”

“Sorry, it’s just.” Harry hung his head low. “I’ve got a killer headache.”

William smiled at his younger brother. “Thought you would, which is why I left aspirin on the nightstand, as well as water. Have them after you brush your teeth.”

“Thanks.”

“It’ll be alright. You know.” William stood in the doorway. “Won’t have to spend every moment in his presence, can very well go out to explore.”

“But there’s nothing to do here. Might as well send me to Rutland,” grumbled Harry.

“Well, you seemed very keen on it last night. Even started babbling about how you were going to start a cannabis colony with some girl.”

“What?” Harry didn’t remember saying that.

“Mean you forgot? Not surprised, you were off your face last night. But yeah, when Alistair got us in the car to go home, you started rambling about how you were going to start a cannabis colony where people could smoke without getting arrested. Kept going on about some girl – didn’t say a name – but apparently, she’s going to be one of the founders.”

Harry began to laugh. He didn’t remember the conversation, but he knew who the girl in question was. Only it wasn’t a girl, it was a woman. It was that American that saved him from a public scandal, and didn’t ask for anything in return. She did it just to help him, which was something that most people wouldn’t do. Most people would ask him for something to have made their effort worthwhile. But she’d done it just to help. As he thought of their drunken conversation, he decided that she was a nice person. He could see why he’d want to start a cannabis colony with her. There was just something about her that made him think she’d be at ease in an open field with cannabis and flowers. A bizarre thought, but a thought nonetheless.

“You’re not still drunk. Are you?” William thought that the only explanation for his brother’s wild laughter.

“Can’t I have a laugh, without being drunk?”

“You can. But usually you having, a laugh is a sign that you’re drunk.”

“Well, I'm not drunk, just a bit hangover. So run along Will, entertain the old bore and I’ll make myself presentable.”

Harry waited until his brother left the room, to finally get out of bed. His toes curled when they came into contact with the cold floor. They reproached him for having placed them on such an unwelcoming surface. They wanted to be tucked underneath a mountain of blankets where they’d be nice and toasty, not out in the open where the morning air nipped at them. His toes eventually regained their normal position and he grabbed a towel that had been left on a nearby desk. It was time to get ready for the day.

Across town, in a small flat that smelt strongly of vomit, lay Paulina. She was fast asleep, her head resting on her left hand that was wrapped tightly around the toilet. She’d spent most of the night throwing up so instead of sleeping on the couch and running back, she decided that it’d be better to just fall asleep there. That way she could wake up, throw up, and fall back asleep. Her plan worked, but it was met with opposition from Alfred, who was also throwing up like mad. Neither of them had been mindful of the drinks they were consuming. They’d been idiots and they paid the price for it.

Since Paulina fell asleep on the toilet, Alfred fell asleep in the bathtub, where he placed a trash bin between his legs so that he could just tilt his head down and have a go. It was disgusting, completely repulsive, but that was how things were. And when Alfred’s phone started to ring at seven that morning, those were in the positions that the twenty something year olds, found themselves in. The first to wake was Paulina. Her brow furrowed and her lips hitched into a menacing snarl as the phone sounded off. She’d been in the middle of a dream, a good dream, in which she’d replaced Rose Tyler as the Doctor’s assistant and to be woken up, right when they were about to kiss inside the TARDIS, was just unacceptable.

“Shut that fucking thing up!” she bellowed, her eyes still closed.

“Huh? What?” Alfred mumbled.

“You’re phone! Turn it the fuck OFF!”

“Alright, alright, no need to bloody shout, I'm right here.” Alfred pulled out his phone, groaning when he saw his mother’s face flashing on the screen. “It’s my mum.”

“Answer her then.”

Alfred cleared his throat, hoping that that’d be enough to make him sound alright, instead of hung over. “Mum!” he exclaimed into the phone. “Is something the matter?”

“No, dear,” replied the woman on the other line. “Why would anything be the matter?”

“Because it’s seven in the morning and you never call before at least one.”

She laughed a soft laugh that told him he was being silly. “Alfie, my darling boy, always such a joker,” she cleared her throat. “What I was calling to say is that your father and I are on our way. We thought it’d be nice to have a proper family dinner since we’ve not had one since Christmas holiday.”

“D-dinner?” he stuttered.

“Yes, dinner,” she said a little forcefully. “Why the surprise?” she inquired. “Have you plans for this evening?”

“Actually, yes, I was going to hang out with a mate tonight.”

“Bring them along then. Your father and I would love to meet your friend.”

“Mum,” he groaned, much like a child throwing a tantrum would.

“What? What I have done now?”

“Nothing, it’s just I really wanted to stay in after –”

“Alfred,” she said his entire name, she was serious. “I know you might be tired, but we’ve not been together in ages. Either it’s you with us, or it’s your sister and us, but someone is always missing. So put on your big boy pants, put on some smart clothes and sensible shoes, so that when we get there, in two or so hours, you and your sister will be ready for a day out. If you want your friend to come, then they can come. If not, oh well. You can see them when we leave. Am I clear?”

“Yes, mum,” grumbled Alfred, knowing very well that it wasn’t good to piss off the ones that paid his education.

“Alright, dear,” she smiled brightly. “Well your father and I are stopping for breakfast. We’ll see you soon and we send you our love, tell Charlotte we send her our love, as well.”

“Will do, mum.” Alfred hung up the phone and turned to look at Paulina, who was glaring at him. “Want to go to dinner?”

“No,” she answered honestly.

“Didn’t think you would,” he rested his head against the cool tile. “Suppose I should get going. I’ll throw this out and clean the bucket out back.”

“Thanks,” she sat up straight, placing her hand to her forehead. “Think I’ll clean up so I can pass out after in a clean space.”

Alfred looked outside the bathroom door, scrunching his nose when he saw the state the flat was in. He didn’t remember much about last night. The last thing he remembered was going to the loo, but what happened after that was a mystery. And the condition the flat was in, told him that they got back to Paulina’s place and kept drinking, even though they’d both already thrown up once at the club. There were chips spread across the flat, empty cups that had at one point held an assortment of drinks. Just yesterday, Paulina had scrubbed the entire flat clean, while they waited for it to be time to go to the club and now, now the flat that she’d worked so hard to clean was yet again, filthy.

“I’ll help clean.”

“You have to go get your own flat ready. Charlotte probably fucked it up last night.”

Alfred shook his head. “She’s the one that’s got to clean it up. I’ll just tell her that if she doesn’t tidy up, I’ll tell mum and dad what she did last night. That’ll scare her.”

“So fucking childish,” she stood.

“But it works.” Alfred grabbed a trash bag from underneath the sink and walked out, ready to get the apartment into shape.

They spent about an hour tidying up the apartment. They threw out all the garbage, scrubbed the bathroom clean, swept and mopped and even threw a load of stained blankets into the wash. All in all, the pair left the flat in perfect condition. And by opening up the window and lighting a few French vanilla candles, the apartment smelled lovely. With the apartment clean, Alfred gathered his belongings and excused himself. For her part, Paulina grabbed a towel and jumped into the shower to scrub her own body clean. She felt filthy, like every inch of her was covered in a thick layer of dirt and as the warm water fell on her body, she let out a shudder of elation. She was in there for a good while, enjoying the peaceful silence and when her fingers began to wrinkle, she turned off the water. She grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her hair and then grabbed another to dry her body off with. Once she dried herself off, she threw it on the towel rack and proceeded to brush her teeth.

Paulina went into her regular after shower routine, after which, she walked into her bedroom area and pulled out some sweatpants and her Manchester United jersey to lounge around in. She wandered over to the fridge to grab something to eat but the only things in there were a twelve pack of Newcastle Brown Ale and strawberry fruit spread. There was bread and peanut butter in the cupboards, as well as some cereal and canned foods. She’d have to do with that, until she summoned up the willpower to leave the house to go to the grocery store in the center of town. There was a shop closer to her, but groceries were more expensive there, so she biked the extra mile just to save money.

With the limited food options she had, she decided to make herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast. It was a good idea; until she actually took a bite and realized that she needed something to drink. There wasn’t any milk. They’d finished it the night before. There weren’t any juices. They’d used them as chasers. There was only water and beer. It would have been more sensible to drink water, considering last night’s ordeal as well as this morning’s, but as she stared at the beer, she thought of something her brother, Luis, would always say and that was that there was nothing better for a hangover than a beer. Did she believe him? No, not really, but at that moment she pretended to believe his saying and grabbed the can. She took it back to the couch where she’d set up camp and sat down to watch the rest of Bridget Jones’s Diary.

Halfway through the movie, she ended up falling asleep on the couch. She stayed asleep until two in the afternoon when her mobile went off. It was Olivia, sending a text message saying that she hoped that her exams had gone well and to wake up to have something to eat. Paulina quickly composed a text and chuckled to herself. Olivia was always fretting about them. Reminding them to eat or sleep and even when she was in a completely different city, she was doing just that. Paulina knew that Olivia was right about getting something to eat. So she threw on some clothes to go out into public in. She took out money from the stash she set aside just for groceries and then grabbed her bicycle and purse and went outside.

The ride to the grocery took a little less than twenty minutes and when she arrived, her cheeks were flooded with color and she was trying to catch her breath. She chained her bicycle to the bike rack, making sure that it was tightly secured and then walked inside. A basket was grabber near the entrance and she walked to the produce section to stock up on fruits and vegetables. She liked having a lot of vegetables around, because she had to cook everything from scratch. There were no frozen foods that she was fond of. She practically only ate what she cooked, except for those few times when she had curry or Chinese cuisine.

After grabbing her produce, she walked over to the dairy section where she – as usual – stared at the cheese, wishing that there’d be some Mexican queso fresco, but there wasn’t any. And after getting over the lack of cheese, she grabbed a gallon of milk, some cranberry juice, and some meat. She then walked over to the snack section to grab a bag of tortilla chips as well as some cookies and when she entered the aisle, she stumbled across a man that was holding up two bags of chips, muttering to himself about which bag he should get. She stared at him in silence. He looked familiar, but the sunglasses and beanie kept her from figuring out who it was. It wasn’t until she stepped closer to him that she processed his voice.

“Nacho cheese Doritos, are better,” she commented softly.

He turned his face in her direction. “That so?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “They’re way better than cool ranch.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can trust your opinion.”

Paulina cocked her brow.

“Nothing against you, it’s just; I can’t trust anyone that supports the Red Devils.”

“What do you have against Manchester United? You’re not one of those Leeds fans, are you?”

“Don’t insult me! I'm a Gunner,” he replied, in reference to the Arsenal Football Club.

“Arsenal, really?” she shook her head. “You’d think a Prince would . . .”

“Shh. Undercover right now,” he explained.

Paulina nodded in understanding. “Try not to talk then, people won’t recognize you in your get up, but if you talk, they’ll know.”

“They won’t know. It’s the appearance people recognize more, not the voice. At least not with me, they recognize Will, but that’s because they have to. Isn’t it?”

“Suppose so,” she grabbed a bag of tortilla chips. “Want to know what I don’t get?”

“What?”

“There are tortilla chips in England, but no decent premade salsa or Tapatio hot sauce or tortillas for that matter.”

“Don’t think we handle the heat well. Remember feeling like my mouth was on fire every time I ate in Mexico, was good though, painful, but delicious. And there are tortillas.”

“Not any good ones.”

“They’re alright.”

“Maybe for you guys, but for someone that’s used to eating good quality tortillas, they’re fucking horrible. That’s why I make my own and just keep them in the fridge to heat up. That’s probably what I'm going to do today.”

His mouth watered at the mere mention of fresh made tortillas. He’d had some during a trip to Mexico and had ended up eating a dozen with his meal.

“You mean to say, you make handmade tortillas.”

She nodded.

“Can I have some?” he blurted out without thinking.

She shot him a quizzical look, unsure of how to react to the fact that he’d invited himself to her flat, because to give him some tortillas, meant that he had to go to her place. It was weird, considering she didn’t really know him, but then again she’d invited Olivia back to her flat the same day she’d met her, so it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she’d done.

“I guess,” she told him, “But I don’t have a car to give you a lift. Brought my bike,” she explained. “Can take you on there, if you don’t mind standing on the back, not very comfortable, but my friends do it all the time so it’s pretty safe.”

Harry thought about what William would say. He’d tell him that he was mad for going off with someone he didn’t know, that it was irresponsible. But Harry didn’t think it was. He’d been looking for something to keep him out of Lord Fellowes home and hanging out with her would definitely do that. It’d be a day of normality, a day without Alistair and getting dressed up in a fine suit for dinner. And he needed a day like that.

“Will all your groceries fit? I mean, I can get us a cab if you like.”

“That’s a waste of money.”

“Most of what I spend my money on is a waste of money.” Harry countered.

“Was that supposed to make me agree to let you waste money on a cab?”

“Yeah . . .”

“You failed miserably, at that.” she let out a laugh. “Is that all you were gonna get?”

“No, was gonna get some drinks as well. Mind if I grab some? Can get ones you like? That way you do the cooking and I’ll . . . I’ll open the bottles.”

That was a decent tradeoff that she agreed to and soon after he grabbed a twelve pack. The pair paid for their respective groceries and then walked out to the bicycle. It took a few tries for them to secure the groceries, but they eventually did it. And Harry stood on the back of her bicycle, holding onto her shoulders for support as they traveled through the streets of Oxford.