Thirty-Nine

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Near there, near the church but a little more like a corner away, loud, rhythmic dance music can be heard. Because of how the lights danced around the corner and reflected against the windows, it's like a disco on the streets.

I smile a little but I focused on the whole church itself. I look up, the gigantic monument towering itself over to the skies. Beautiful.

I know for a fact that the whole building isn't finished yet but even in its state, it's still one of the most remarkable structures in the world.

Unfortunately, Madz played with my phone so I couldn't take pictures. I don't really want to use Isabelli's phone. But anyways, it's much better to actually let the moment sink in.

It's actually a nice scene, under the dark night sky with the glow of the crescent moon and tiny sparkles of the stars.

I can't believe I've never been here before and I wish I had. It really bothers me of all the times that my parents went to another country and I am left behind. I could've seen these things, I could've actually experienced a lot but I keep getting left behind.

About ten minutes of straying into my thoughts and staring at the night sceneries, the structures, the people walking by and just having fun, I make my way to the corner wherein there seems to be a party going on. There's a DJ playing some wild beats with dozens of people going down with the dance floor. Colorful lights and lasers dance along with the music. There's even a bar at the side, serving drinks, seats are provided near, the speakers blast out a lot and I think there's even a tattoo stand near.

I didn't know it could be like this here.

I walk towards the bar, getting myself a glass of whiskey. I know, it's a strong drink but I'm not planning to get myself drunk, or else I might find myself in an unfamiliar place, worse, with someone unfamiliar and I don't want that.

"Gracias, amigo," someone speaks in Spanish. . . in an English accent. I know whose voice that is.

Please tell me, I'm wrong.

"What are you doing here?!" I ask almost yelling as I face Harry.

His eyes widens and almost spits on his drink. He gulps first, "Taylor?! What are you doing here?!"

Harry is holding a glass of red wine, currently standing a seat away from me. I've never seen him like this before. From behind, I know I wouldn't recognize him because he looks absolutely matured. He is wearing a dirty white polo, two buttons unbuttoned, revealing his upper chest and the two silver necklaces he always wears, added by the dark skinny jeans that seems difficult enough to wear but heck, he's pulling it off awfully great. In fact, he looks hot.

"And you're drinking," he says with all seriousness once he finally catches up. "And you're alone. Taylor, you can't — where the hell is Runner?!"

I smile innocently and my shoulders lifts up, "I snuck out. They're probably in La Rambla. What about you, what are you doing here? I thought you were sick."

He doesn't reply. In fact, he just smirks at me. It's strange. I should see him very confused by now but he doesn't seem like he's in the schoolboy mood. Harry just seems so confident and very different.

He walks closer and leans in, his lips close to my ear, "I can't hear you."

I have to refrain myself from rolling my eyes and giving a sarcastic remark. "I said," I make my voice a little louder. "What are you doing here?"

Harry smiles and pulls on his polo side wards, revealing a tattoo looking like a bottle of wine, "Sangria," he says. "Like the one I'm drinking right now." He takes a sip of the red wine from his glass.

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