The Thrill Is Gone

“There was a time, I used to call you on my very own. We were so happy Henry, talking for hours and hours on the telephone. Then one day, I set you up to walk right outta my life, leaving me all by myself. All alone too cry every night,” she slurred the words to the song, making changes wherever her drunken mind saw fit. “. . . So I made up my mind, I gonna crawl right back to you. I’m gonna plead and plead and plead, yeah. ‘Till you’re here by my side,” she cried, a fresh wave of despair striking her. “I can’t even walk down the same old streets we used to walk down. ‘Cause I keep thinking about all the good times. Keep thinking about it, I wanna make you mine.”

The alcohol, coupled with her frail emotional state, took the little control she had left. The whiskey bottle slipped from her hand, crashing onto the ground where it shattered across the formerly clean tiles. She’d spent the entire evening tidying up, trying to keep herself occupied so she wouldn’t miss Harry too badly, but that effort had been for nothing; her heart still yearned for him, it cried for her to pick up the phone and make things better, and the ground that she’d so carefully mopped, was in even worse shape than before. Not that she cared though. Not at the moment, at least. The only thing she cared about was the fact that she was sulking in America while Harry was across the pond, doing whatever it was he was doing.

She cringed at the thought of his being out with Jake and the lads, partying with those socialites that always seemed to swarm him whenever he stepped foot in a club. Would he take one home? Would he stick his hand down one of their tops? She grew nauseous at the thought of him touching other women in that manner. Those hands were meant to caress her curves, to grab onto her hips, and fondle her breasts. They were her hands. At least, she wanted them to be, but truth be told, they weren’t. Not anymore. She’d broken up with him. So if he was out fucking some leggy blonde or getting his dick sucked in the restroom at some trendy club, then that was alright, because he wasn’t cheating. He was free to do what he wanted. She had made it so. She’d told him that she didn’t want to be with him anymore and sent him on his way, but nothing could’ve been further from the truth.

Her heart was still very much his.

It didn’t matter that they’d had a massive falling out, that he’d accused her of being capable of fucking her way to the top. It might have mattered to her pride and her brain, but not her heart. That damn little thing was an eternal optimist when it came to him, and it begged the rest of her to reconsider things, it reminded her that she was no saint either, that she’d been the one to put the strain on their relationship, and that he deserved another chance, that maybe just maybe things would’ve been different. It had been telling her that all week. Whenever she took a break from studying for her final exams, her heart would chirp up, reminding her of the gingery prince across the pond that she loved so desperately. Her hearts just wanted him back, and after an entire week of being denied the right to cry, it was making up for lost time. It was making her feel the yearning that had been repressed for an entire week, the heartache that had been forcibly ignored.

And so she cried. She sobbed wildly as Baby, Come on Home by Led Zeppelin played on loop. It was foolish of her to have that song on repeat. Each line was like a punch to the gut. She couldn’t breathe right, she couldn’t see anymore, the fucking tears had fully blinded her, all she could do was sit on the recliner and cry. She cried out of anger, out of regret, and indignation. She cried because she hated the fact that he’d been so thoughtless as to say that she would fuck Francis Kennedy just to get ahead in the political arena. She hated that he’d had those fucking tits in his face and that scantily clad woman on his lap, but most of all, she hated the fact that she missed him. That she wanted nothing more than to reach out for her phone and call him up. Her pride was furious that she wanted to call him back. That after everything she wanted to work on things with him. She had that Balcázar pride. It wasn’t as strong in her as it was in her father and Raphael, but that fucking pride was furious at her. It demanded that she remain firm in her decision, because she didn’t someone that thought her capable of fucking her way to the top, in her life. She needed people that believed in her and her integrity.

“Integrity . . .” she muttered to herself, eyes half closed. “I’ve got to keep my fucking integrity. But what good is that? Is that shit gonna keep me warm?” she mused aloud. “Nah. Fuck that. Imma be alone. Imma be all miserable and shit. And for what? He didn’t mean it. What he said wasn’t what he meant he was just . . .” she hiccupped “. . . he was just being a dumbass, but like that happens to everyone. I should just let it go. Yeah? Yeah. I should. I’m gonna call him, and I’m gonna say that I’m sorry and that I accept his apology. Yes. That’s what Imma do.” She clumsily grabbed her phone off the coffee table, and froze just as she was about to call him. “I can’t do it,” she mumbled, disappointedly. “What if Jane fucking Eyre had said to hell with her integrity when Rochester was all telling her that they could go away together and no one be the wiser and shit? What then? She wouldn’t have been Jane Eyre, she would’ve been some punk ass idiot that didn’t know her worth. I got to be like Jane. I got to . . .” she grew increasingly passionate in her drunken rambling “. . . I got to know my worth. There’s no way any asshole is ever gonna say that I’m a fucking prostitute that’ll spread ‘em for some power. I’m not a puta (whore). Soy Paulina Aureliana Balcázar y me se dar a respetar. Yo sé lo que valgo y este maldito orgullo que tengo dentro del pecho no me va a dejar que me menos precie. Soy una cabrona bien hecha, una chingona. (I’m Paulina Aureliana Balcazar, and I’m going to make myself be respected. I know my worth and this damn pride that I have deep within my chest isn’t going to let me degrade myself. I’m a woman that knows her worth, a real fucking bitch in charge). But . . .” she grew quiet, her passions dimming momentarily. “. . . but if my güerito wants to talk, then I’ll fucking talk with him, but I’m not calling him. He has to call me and then we’ll figure this shit out. But if not, well, it’s not like there’s anything else to do.” She pursed her lips together. “Except get some beer. Yeah, that’s what I need to do.” She paused, thinking of what else needed doing. “And I’ve gotta turn off this fucking song. I love you, Led Zeppelin, but I can’t take this shit no more.”

Determined to down a few beers, she grabbed onto the sides of the armchair, and forced herself up. Her arms trembled under the strain, she’d been drinking since she got back from her last exam and she hadn’t eaten right in . . . well, she couldn’t exactly remember when the last time she’d eaten right was. So her body was in no condition to exert itself, but she nonetheless gripped the armchair for support and gritted her teeth as she planted her feet firmly on the ground. She was able to exert herself enough to stand, and it was then that the sudden change in elevation, sent her head spinning. Her body suddenly became painfully aware of just how intoxicated she was, and as a direct result of that, she fell back onto the chair, where she remained until eight o’clock the following morning.

When she woke, her neck ached from the odd angle it had been at all night, and her entire body felt stiff, as if she’d been cooped up in a trunk for hours on end. What she needed was to get some actual, comfortable sleep, and since she didn’t have any more exams and had nowhere to be until the evening, she wandered over to her bedroom and passed out until her alarm went off at five. Its incessant wailing roused her from her sleepless slumber. With sleep filled eyes, she glared at her phone, treating it as she would some imposter, but eventually, she remembered that she had to get ready to go out with Stephanie. They were meant to have dinner and drinks to celebrate their having completed their first year at Harvard Law. When they’d first made plans to go out that night, Paulina had been excited, she’d been overjoyed at the thought of having a night out to let loose with her friend, but that had been before her break up with Harry. Now all she wanted to do was be a hermit, but alas, she couldn’t flake out on Stephanie.

So she rallied the little strength she had and forced herself out of bed. She practically dragged herself to the bathroom. Her steps were so slow, that it was as if her feet were asking one another permission to take steps. It was absurd, her half-awake mind knew it was, but for the life of her, she couldn’t summon up the necessary strength to pick up the pace. The long night of crying and drinking had exhausted her beyond belief. All she could do was trudge along with her eyes half open, and hope that a cold shower would be enough to wake her.

Luckily for her, the cold water proved effective. The moment the freezing water touched her skin, her eyes snapped wide open. She wasn’t half-awake and struggling to take in her surroundings anymore, she was fully alert, and quickly switched it so the water was at a more tolerable temperature. She didn’t linger long in the shower, only taking enough time to give herself a thorough scrubbing, and when she finished there, she started work on her hair and makeup. She was tempted to not put much effort into it. It wasn’t like she was going to be connected to the royal family for much longer, but the stubborn side of her demanded that she look put together, that she not look defeated. So she went about getting ready like she would’ve gone about it if she were to go out with Harry. The press wasn’t going to see her disheveled, they weren’t going to know of her grief. She was determined to not let on that there was anything wrong with her, that the relationship had ceased to be. She was going to be. She was going to be cool and collected, and when it came time to make her way through the photographers that crowded the sidewalk in front of the house, that was precisely what she did.

She stepped out with her head held high and shoulders pushed back. Her chin was slightly elevated, just enough to give her an unaffected look, the sort that Lady Fellowes deemed necessary when being photographed by the press. She kept her mouth shut as she made her way through the crowd, determined not to let any words pass through her lips, she wasn’t even going to give them the satisfaction of getting a facial reaction from her. She simply moved through the crowd, and maneuvered towards the backseat of the cab where Stephanie sat awaiting her.

“Paulina! Paulina!” shouted a photographer as she neared the cab. “Do you have anything to say concerning your prince’s antics? Anything to comment on the women he’s been spotted around town with?”

She remained silent.

“Are you planning on breaking up with him over it?” Another photographer questioned. “You’ve got to be, what with the way he’s been acting! Or are you hanging on so you can have a fair shot at being royalty? Is Princess Paulina, something you’re contemplating?”

It took everything she had to not blow up on that photographer. It was a true testament to her self-restraint that she was able to appear unaffected by the incessant questions being thrown her way. And she couldn’t help but inwardly cringe at the thought of what life was going to be like once the press found out that her relationship with Harry had ended. There would be an increase in the number of photographers standing outside her home, the little barrier that existed between themselves and her, would certainly banish. They would fully swarm her, close her in on all sides so that they could intimidate her into responding to their inquiries. They were going to be scrupulous in their plight to get an in depth interview with her, and all Paulina could hope was that she would have the strength to make it through that time, without landing in jail for punching a member of the press.

When Paulina finally reached the cab, she pulled open the door and then quickly climbed into the backseat, eager to get away from the flashing lights. Paulina didn’t greet Stephanie right away. She just there for a few seconds, staring ahead at the back of the seat in front of her. She wanted to shut her eyes tightly and fully shield herself from the photographers that were beginning to pound on her window, but she couldn’t do. She couldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d gotten to her. So instead she stared at the back of the seat and took in deep, slow breaths. In time, she calmed herself down enough to no longer feel as if the world was closing in on her. She felt free to breathe and to be, and it was then that she turned to Stephanie.

“Sorry about that, Steph.” Paulina apologized as she leant over to hug her. “I didn’t there’d be so many of them out tonight.”

“There’s always a bunch of them.” Stephanie reminded, smiling as she hugged her friend. “And anyways, the reasons there’s so many tonight is because they knew you were gonna hang out with me.”

“Is that so?”

Stephanie nodded. “They want to capture all this beauty on film. Not that I can blame them, of course, but they seriously shouldn’t be wasting time pretending to be focusing in on you when it’s so obvious they’re here for me. Though, to be honest, I think the only reason they pretend to follow you around when they really want to follow me, is because my beauty intimidates them.”

“That’s definitely it.” Paulina agreed, a little smile making its way onto her lips. “No mere mortal can be in presence of such beauty without feeling terribly unworthy. That’s why they try to be discreet with their pictures. That way they won’t have to take your beauty full on.”

“They have to take it in doses or else it’ll drive them to madness.”

“I think some of them might already be there.”

“Well, more along the lines of driving them, further into madness.” Stephanie grinned. “Enough of that though, how are you? Have you caught up on sleep, yet? I passed out for like more than twelve hours, so I’m kind of feeling better, but I think I need a couple more twelve hour sleeping sessions so I can make up for the week long all-nighters we were pulling.” Her nose scrunched in disgust at the thought of all those sleepless nights. “How we managed that, is beyond me.”

“Agreed,” said Paulina. “I was honestly contemplating dropping out on Wednesday.”

“I remember that. You were all pissed off because you hadn’t slept right since Saturday, and then you were talking about how you were just gonna go off the grid, and I said I’d go with you as long as we could take Ava along.”

“We could’ve started a 66% lesbian folk band.” Paulina stated. “Ava on the cello, me on the accordion, and you on the banjo.”

“The hipsters would’ve eaten that shit up.”

“It would’ve been multicultural.”

“And a triumph for the LGBT community and its allies.” Stephanie chuckled softly, and rested her head against the seat. “But seriously, if we had cast Harvard Law to the wind, the hipsters would’ve accepted us with open arms.” She tilted her head slightly to the side to better look at Paulina. “So how was your first night of summer break?”

“It was pretty good,” lied Paulina. It had been awful, but Stephanie didn’t need to know that. “I got drunk and wandered around my place in underwear.”

“You’ve just described how I plan to spend my summer.”

“It’s the only respectable way to spend one’s summer.” Paulina brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Speaking of summer, when are you heading back to Oregon?”

“I . . . uh, I’m actually not flying home.” Stephanie replied, somewhat embarrassedly.

“But don’t you have that internship in Portland? With that firm your uncle works for?”

“I do.” Stephanie paused. “I did,” she corrected. “But I don’t know, I just guess that I wasn’t really feeling it towards the end. I mean, yeah, it’d be a great opportunity, but I don’t just want to get something because of my uncle. I’d rather earn it somewhere else. And also, I didn’t really want to be out there while Ava’s in Frisco. It’s like, we hardly get any fucking time to ourselves, so I wanted to take advantage of the time off that I do have. That way I can actually be with her, because this long distance shit’s fucking horrible. Not that I have to convince you of that, you already know, but yeah, back to what I was saying, I’m gonna fly out to Frisco instead. I’ve got an interview set up for an internship with a firm from the bay, and I’m gonna live with Ava for the summer, so it’ll be good. I mean, my parents aren’t really all that happy, but they’ll get over it.”

“Fucking hell, Steph.”

“That a good, fucking hell?”

“Obviously,” said Paulina, smiling slightly. “I can’t believe you completely changed your summer. That’s mental!”

Stephanie shrugged. “Not really. I mean, it was a little trouble, but I figure that since I’m the one that put the added strain on the relationship, then I should be the one that makes more of an effort to accommodate time together. You know how that is though, you’re gonna spend half your summer in England.”

Paulina hadn’t confided in Stephanie about the breakup. She hadn’t confided in anyone. The only people that knew about it were her and whoever Harry had decided to tell, though she suspected that he hadn’t told anyone, because if he had, the story would’ve already been all over the tabloids. It was something she was keeping quiet, a topic she was determined not to discuss until Harry had informed the world of their rupture. Until then, she was just pretending that everything was the same as it had been, she was pretending that she hadn’t cancelled her ticket to London.

Paulina played it off as if everything was alright. She didn’t let on that she wasn’t going to fly out to London anymore. She spoke in a manner that assured Stephanie that Paulina knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Yeah, definitely,” said Paulina, forcing herself to smile much brighter than she’d wanted to. “We’re the ones putting them through the long distance crap so it’s only right that we fly out for them.”

“It is.” Stephanie agreed. “They’re good about it though, and it’s not like it’s going to be forever, just two more years of this and then we can get to be actual adults.”

“Two years . . .” repeated Paulina. “Fucking hell, I can’t even imagine how those two are gonna go. This year took forever. Better yet, this last week alone felt like it lasted a decade.”

“Finals weeks always feel that way.” Stephanie glanced out the window to check how far they were from the restaurant. It’d be just a couple more blocks until they got there. “They’ll go by quick though. They should go by quick. I figure that since high school went by all fast, and then college was a blur, that this’ll have to be somewhat like –” before she could finish her thought, her phone began to ring. “It’s Ava,” she told Paulina. “Is it alright if I take this?”

“That’s fine.” Paulina reassured. “Go for it.”

From her seat beside Stephanie, Paulina discreetly watched as her friend spoke animatedly into her blackberry. Just by looking at Stephanie, it was obvious that she was head over heels in love. She smiled brightly the entire time, her face lit up in a way that only happened whenever she spoke to or was around Avery, and there was a part of Paulina that couldn’t help but be jealous of her friend. Her friend’s relationship was going fine. Wait. No. It was going better than fine, it was going great! Stephanie’s relationship with Avery was healthy and thriving. It was everything that Paulina’s relationship wasn’t, and as she sat there, she wondered what it was that made Avery and Stephanie’s relationship work, when her and Harry’s failed so miserably.

Why was their relationship thriving? What was it about Avery and Stephanie that made their relationship be in a good place where fighting was kept to a minimum? She didn’t know. Goddamn it, she didn’t know. And she wished she did. She wished she would’ve known their secret so that it could’ve been applied to her relationship with Harry, but she didn’t know why they worked so well. She didn’t know how they were able to work past the distance to keep their love alive. The two of them didn’t take each other for granted, neither Stephanie nor Avery treated the other as if they were disposable. They were the most important part of each other’s lives, and they treated each other as such, but more than that, they respected each other. Whenever they did get upset, they didn’t curse each other out and say things they didn’t mean. There wasn’t any of that going on between them, and Paulina couldn’t help but think that maybe that was the reason why Stephanie’s relationship was so strong. The two women weren’t stubborn and immature, they recognized each other’s faults, worked on ways to overcome them, and were always so mature about it. They were everything that she and Harry weren’t, because as much as loved herself and Harry, she had to admit that there were moments where they reverted to behavior better left for teenagers and their stubbornness, though occasionally a good thing, was more often than not, a pain in the ass.

It wasn’t long before the cab pulled up in front of the brick building where the restaurant was located. The outside wasn’t much to look at it, it was an old brick building that had seen better days, but the inside was nicely put together, somewhat trendy without being obnoxious. It was best knock for its New American cuisine and award winning drinks, and best of all, it was priced for students. It wasn’t like other well knock restaurants that catered to young professionals that had substantial disposable income, it was a place that catered to the local students, and as such, it was always packed. There was good food at reasonable prices, and it was a favorite of Paulina and Stephanie’s. Sometimes, after a particularly long wee, they’d head over there to grab a burger and beer or sometimes something a little more refined, but no matter what they ordered, they always enjoyed themselves there.

And that was true of their night out. They were led to the table near the back where they always sat, and ordered mouth wateringly delicious meals. It was the first time in nearly a week that Paulina had sat down to an actual dinner. She’d been living off of granola bars whenever she remembered she had to eat or off of small meals that Meredith invited her to. It had been a long week, one that had left her feeling worse than she ever had before, but she’d made it through it, and now she was enjoying herself with her friend. She had drinks with Stephanie, she might not have drank heavily, but she drank enough to unwind, to remove some of the weight from her shoulders. Just being in that restaurant was enough to make her feel, at least for a moment, that she was nothing more than a normal first year law student that had finished her exams, and it was great to feel that way, if only for a little while.

The pair remained at the restaurant until closing time. They then trickled out with the rest of the drunken twenty something year olds, and Paulina was glad to blend into the crowd of youths, it made it harder for the press to spot her, and it made it easy for her to slip away unseen. She and Stephanie were able to walk a few blocks in relative silence, just enjoying one another’s company, and a few blocks down from the restaurant, they hailed a cab, which dropped Paulina off first, and then went onto drop off Stephanie.

It was a good night, a nice little escape from the broken heart she’d forced upon herself, and one of the things that made it even better was that when she showed up at her house, there weren’t any photographers standing out front. They were all still looking for her near the restaurant, trying to figure out where she’d snuck off to, so she was able to stroll across the yard. She even took off her heels to be able to relish in the feel of the grass beneath her feet. She stood in the front yard for a few minutes, eyes closed, as she took in the silence. There’d once been a time when silence had unnerved her, but now that her life was nothing but constant noise, she treasured the stolen moments of silence that life afforded her.

In time, she had her fill of standing there, and went back to making her way to her basement home. She took the stairs slowly, having a fear of one day tumbling down them, and when she reached the bottom, she fished the key out from her purse and opened the door.

“Alone again . . .” she muttered to herself.

But she wasn’t alone, and a familiar voice made that quite clear to her. He’d spent the last three hours trying to figure out how to initiate their conversation, how to talk to her, and he’d come up with some pretty good ways, but the moment he heard her voice, it all sort of just got shot to hell. He forgot everything he’d been brainstorming throughout the last week.

“Not alone,” he blurted out. “Perhaps you’d prefer to be, but you’re not.”

Immediately, her hand flew to the light switch. There was no way he was there. He couldn’t fucking be there. He hadn’t called at all in the last week, so this was some alcohol induced hallucination, maybe she’d had more to drink than she’d thought, and maybe she was still passed out and had only dreamt that she’d gone out to dinner with Stephanie. That had to have been true, because Harry couldn’t be there. He just couldn’t, but he was, when she flicked on the light, she saw him standing there, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a dark button down shirt. He was standing there, looking every bit as disheveled and broken as she had only a few short hours earlier.