rain. |h.s|

30

"Get dressed." He turns around to continue shoving my clothes into the tiny suitcase.

I trudge to the bathroom, barely landing the toothpaste onto my toothbrush. I stick it in my mouth and squint as I try to wake myself up with the bathroom light. With a mouthful of toothpaste, I resume my questions.

"So what's the plan?"

"What do you mean?" He speaks from the bedroom.

"Are we going to go all the way over to Belgium to simply tell them to stop? No offense, but you're not as convincing as you think you are." I smack my lips.

He huffs, "They played rough the other day. It's only fitting we do the same."

"So how are we going to save this guy?" I spit out my toothpaste, tying my hair into a loose ponytail.

"I'll tell you everything as soon as we get there. Just finish up and get dressed so we can leave as soon as possible." He zips my suitcase and makes his way to the bathroom.

He watches me wash my face from beginning to end and then says, "You should leave your hair down more often. It looks better when it's down."

"Thank you for the input." I don't even touch my ponytail before I close the door and turn on the shower.

I hear his footsteps fade as he reaches the bedroom again, shuffling around with our bags a little more. I sigh, resting one hand on the door and another on my chest. This Belgium thing better wrap up fast because I don't know how much longer I can take with my heart doing weird gymnastics. I'm going to develop some sort of heart issue, I swear.

I don't know what's gotten into me, but all I know is I don't like not knowing.

—

I don't know what I was expecting the Prince of Belgium to live in, but we are in a legitimate castle. A castle as in the kind they have in fairytales and movies. It's a beautiful building, full of servants, horses, and flowers. It really is living up to the fairytale name. I would complain about the 8 hour journey from New York to here, but considering the Prince offered us a direct flight with one of his private jets, I can't seem to find reason.

"Noelle, come on." Harry catches me gawking at the sight, urging me to keep moving forward.

"Babe, do you think they'll have a dress in green?" Harlow grazes her fingers over Niall's arm as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He scoffs, "Please don't tell me you're still going on about that. You and Noelle are not coming."

"So we came all the way to Belgium for the literal Prince's birthday, just to sit in our hotel room while you four go out and party?" She lets go of his arm, stopping him in his path to make her argument.

"We're not going to party." He reassures.

I hear a snort from Harry and light snicker from Astro. I know that we haven't come all this way just for fun, but they've mentioned that the Prince's birthday is always a grand celebration every year. Plus, it'll be extra special this year because he's turning 30. If the boys are as close to the Prince as they claim to be, there's no doubt that they'll be out for most of the night.

"El, back me up here." She raises her eyebrows, walking backwards as we make our way to the South wing of the palace.

I breath in through my nose, "It's a ball. This is every little girl's dream. Isn't there any way we could join?"

I eye Harry, hoping he'll show some sort of sympathy for the two of us. He breaks eye contact and pretends to look for our room. I turn to Zayn, who gives out an airy laugh as soon as I look at him.