twenty-one ◌ paper lanterns

✗

On this Thursday in May, at around noon, I came to the conclusion that showering in Paris was the best kind of shower I could ever experience in my entire life. The hot water cascaded from the gold shower head like tropical rain, washing away the soot from the previous day. I scrubbed my skin raw, deciding to use the lavender body wash provided by the hotel as oppose to the bottle of shower gel I brought from home.

I felt so relaxed to stand beneath the perpetual stream of water, inside of a bathroom so large, it seemed like I was in a whole different hotel room from the boys. I was getting use to the idea of constantly being surrounded by Liam, Niall, and Harry, but this luxurious shower, was exactly what I needed to keep me from going absolutely insane.

"That was the longest fucking shower in the world, I thought you drowned," Harry commented the moment I stepped out of the bathroom, a rush of steam swirling at my feet.

"Well I hate to rain on your parade, but here I am, very much alive," I darted a smug expression at Harry who was sat comfortably on the couch. When I first stepped into the shower, he wasn't even in the hotel room. Apparently he woke up early to explore the city, but I had a feeling that he was engaging in shady-ass shit.

"Which is a good thing you are," Niall pipped up with positivity. He sat on the other end of the couch, fiddling with his iPad. "Because Harry was able to complete one of the steps of successfully accomplishing our mission."

"Oh my gosh!" I gasped theatrically, my eyes wide with delight. "Is Harry leaving us and going back to California?"

Harry shot me a snarl, "fuck you."

"Can't let you do that," I smirked. "You might fall in love, and then I'd never get rid of you."

"You're a bombastic piece of sh—"

"—As I was saying," Niall interjected loudly, his voice echoing against the hotel walls. He held up a baby blue envelope, garnering my attention with ease. "Harry was able to nab an invitation to the exclusive gala."

"Oh really," I squinted my eyes with suspicion. "And how did Harry manage to retrieve an invitation to said, exclusive gala."

"Nothing too wild. Just talking to the right people," Harry disclosed with a simple shrug of his shoulders. His gesture exuded indifference, but the forest green eyes that bore into my own, told me another story.

I don't know how, but he knew. Harry was perfectly aware of my investigative escapade yesterday when I trailed him to the sandwich shop. He fully knew I witnessed the envelop exchange with a convicted rapist, and now, I was just waiting for him to blow up in my face.

The hotel room suddenly felt very heavy. The atmosphere no longer harbored welcome and comfort. Instead, it was muggy with abhorrence. The elevated tension continued to develop as the seconds passed, and even Niall didn't know how to terminate the problem. It wasn't until the door opened wide, and we were met with the smell of freshly baked bread that the conflict wilted.

"I brought back food you twàts," Liam strolled through the threshold, a sing-song infection to his tone. Clearly, he was in a happy mood and that seemed to remedy the tension.

"How was your shopping extravaganza?" I asked, head nodding towards the several large, paper bags in Liam's hands.

"I went a little overboard," he winced as he spoke, but the guilt quickly melted away with a shrug of his shoulders. "But it's all worth it for Lila."

Liam dropped his accumulated goodies onto the bed before settling himself by kicking off his shoes. Taking a peek into one of the shopping bags, I grinned at all the brightly-packaged toys inside.

"Dude, you didn't go overboard," I laughed. "You bought the whole damn store."

"I just feel bad that I can't be with Lila twenty-four-seven," Liam defended. He reached into the bag and pulled out a bright blue CareBear with a crescent moon sewed into its belly. "Besides, what's the point of your father paying me above and beyond, if I don't use the money for my daughter?"

Admiring would be the word I'd use to describe Liam Payne. There was an intrinsic respect I had for fathers— especially earnest ones who did what they could to protect their families. The same can be said for Liam. With his entire heart, he willfully laid is life on the line for Lila. Without a second thought, he'd catch grenades, jump into roaring flames, and risk his life infinitely all to makes sure his daughter was safe. And that's what I found so admiring about the tattooed, muscular man standing before me.

"Would you mind if I change the channel?" Niall stood near the television with the black remote in his hand.

It had been about two hours since my shower, and after devouring the meal Liam thoughtfully brought back for me, I established myself on the comfortable carpet.

I nodded my head, "yea, go for it."

As much as I loved watching Tangled, I've seen the Disney film countless times since its release. I knew it was becoming a problem since I was able to recite the entire film by heart, and owned an adult-sized Rapunzel costume.

"I was actually talking to Harry," Niall grinned, flicking his eyes over to the figure behind me.

With a curious cock of my head, I turned over my shoulder to see Harry sitting comfortably on the couch with his eyes glued to the television screen. His high-grade computer rested on his lap, and while he's normally found typing away at rapid speed, something else seemed to captivate his attention.

"And at last I see the light, and it's like the fog has lifted..."

Rapunzel and Flynn were sitting on a wooden boat in the middle of a lake when the evening sky lit up with thousands of glowing lanterns. Their illumination seamlessly blended into the stars, as the romance between the two Disney characters built into something completely magical.

"Hey Harry!" Niall called out, louder than before.

"Mmm," Harry hummed, snapping out of his trance. He darted his focus over to Niall with confusion coating his eyes.

"I have the UCLA versus USC baseball game streaming on my iPad," Niall informed. "I wanna hook it up to the TV if you don't mind."

"Uh yea. That's fine with me. I don't care," Harry casually spoke, as if he wasn't fixated on the animated flick a mere thirty seconds ago.

"Thanks mate," Niall blissfully turned to the television, pressing the rubber buttons on the remote.

I still observed Harry as he leaned forward to place the computer on the coffee table. When he did, the sleeve of his black button-up shirt slid up his arm slightly, and I caught glimpse of the decorative swirls of ink grazing his tanned skin. I almost turned away at that moment to continue researching Pinnacle Crédit's new president, but then my eyes latched onto a particular tattoo I paid no attention to since one afternoon in Niall's kitchen.

A paper lantern.

The simple strokes that crafted the cartoon drawing was the only tattoo shaded with color. It was a fusion of golds and pinks, mingling into a soft gradient, identical to the one depicted in the animated film. That darling tattoo adorning Harry's brawny arm, was the key element to disguising the jagged scar blemishing his skin.

"Find something interesting?" Harry's brooding voice startled me, and I met his darkened eyes.

"Nothing," I shook my head and quickly turned away. As much as I wanted to ask about the wound, I knew Harry would only repeat the last time I questioned him, and dismiss the topic with an angered snarl.

Sitting on the floor with my back pressed up against the coffee table, I comfortably investigated Pinnacle Crédit using Niall's laptop. I did this for almost an hour, before taking a break to help— well, takeover, packaging Liam's gifts. Trying to stuff random sized toys and clothing into a square box was not the ideal plan of execution. So before Liam could physically break anything, I took the objects from the frustrated father and put the Tasha spin to it.

"Have you never played Tetris before?" I softly smiled at Liam, proceeding to carefully place the toys in a strategic manner.

"I guess I would've learned how to do all this, but my parents were never one to really teach me," Liam professed, handing me a small set of assorted bows.

"May I ask why?" I slipped the hair accessories in a small space between the CareBear and a box of Nascar figurines. I appreciated Liam's adamant belief of toys having no gender.

"My parents are extremely religious people and didn't agree with the idea of having a gay son," Liam's voice showed no trace of sadness. He spewed out the statement like a cold-hearted fact; like the circumstance belonged to a life unconnected to his.

"I"m sorry to hear that," I reached my arm forward to gently caress his cheek. "They're missing out on having a beautiful granddaughter in their lives, and witnessing a brilliant father raise her."

"You know I haven't told you this yet," Liam started, taking my hand in his and giving it a friendly kiss. "But I am very pleased to witness your badassery in person. Even though I did kick your ass the first time we officially met—"

"—yea, whatever," I rolled my eyes.

"Tasha, you're tough," Liam continued with sternness. "Anyone could've given up, crawl into the fetal position and cry about the situation. Not you. You're, you're—"

"—dope."

The conclusion to Liam's declaration didn't come from the boy who began it. The deep voice belonged to Harry, and when I rotated my body to glance at him, he just stoically looked at me before returning to his own work.

"Yes! Home run! Home fucking run!" Niall's delighted cheers snatched my attention. The blonde-haired boy, who ignored hair product that day, leaving his locks in a floppy disarray, jumped excitedly in the air.

"I'm going to assume that UCLA is winning?" I guessed, peering at the television screen of the university's baseball match against their number one enemies.

"For now they are," Harry suddenly answered. "It's only the bottom of the third inning, and I have a feeling that USC is going to win this game."

"You're supposed to be on my team," Niall jeered. It was clear to see the offense Harry created on Niall's face as he frowned.

"Why would you assume that?" Harry's lips lifted into a small smile, very amused with Niall's notion.

"Because we're mates," Niall stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, your school isn't even playing. Which means you have to default to rooting for a UCLA victory."

"What school did you go to?" I questioned, eyeing Harry with interest.

"Not did, do," Harry corrected. "I'm currently enrolled in CalTech."

"Wait, what? You're a university student?" My jaw dropped open like a shockwave.

"Surprise Tash, but I did more than just mundane high school homework at Kennedy Prep," Harry revealed with sass. "I'm a double major in Chemistry and Electrical Engineering."

"It's not Hentai porn that enchants him to his computer," Liam added with a laugh, ruffling up Harry's hair. "Always so studious, aren't ya Harry?"

Harry smacked Liam's hand away from his curly mop of hair, before finishing the discourse with one last testament.

"Niall isn't the only one who's supposed to graduate on June 13th."

Once again, I was put in my place by Harry. It didn't happen often, but when it did, I felt like an utter idiot. I could never admit it out loud, especially to his face, but Harry had this peculiar ability in auditing my life. It's no secret that I can be quite the headstrong girl. I'm opinionated and I like to think for myself. For the most part, it works out. But then there are moments like these, that truly shut me up.

I gave Harry a hard time; accusing him of lacking compassion. Especially towards Niall, who I believed should've been at UCLA preparing to graduate. I spoke so much shit without regard for Harry's own wellbeing. I had no idea; no indication or care to realize that the green-eyed boy who had a knack for science, had a life outside of the one I thought I knew.

"Hey Liam?"

It had been couple of hours of baseball and banter when I looked at the boy sitting at the desk. He turned around in the seat to acknowledge me.

"Yes?"

"Has there been any updates in the New Orleans news?" I asked. I was itching to know if police were after me. That blood stained dagger was enough incriminating evidence to have the FBI on my ass.

"No, all clear," Liam assured. "But what isn't clear, are you clothes."

"Excuse me, but we're fugitives against a rogue group of intelligence," I scowled, clearly offended with his statement. "I'm sorry that I forgot to pack my Gucci shoes and fashion sense."

"Not your clothes now, dimwit," Liam rolled my eyes and I darted a sneer. "You need a dress for the gala. Something pretty to help you blend into the party."

"Oh."

When Liam pushed me out of the hotel room with the company credit card, he urged me to find something appropriate to wear for the following evening. Normally, giving me an unlimited amount of money to spend excited me. The volume of running shoes I've gone through is immense, and when the opportunity presented itself, I found myself splurging on high-quality sneakers.

"Tash, keep moving."

"But they're so pretty," I carped with a childish inflection.

I longingly gazed at a pair of glacier blue running shoes with specs of silver furnishings. They were displayed behind a storefront window, just taunting me with its beauty. Although I craved them wholeheartedly, someone else didn't agree, and whisked me away.

"You're not shopping for running shoes," Harry reminded me with a warning tone. "You're supposed to buy a dress."

"Why don't you buy a dress, then? Since you're the one who was able to obtain the gala invitation, you should be the one to use it," I reasoned with a snit. I looked up at Harry who gazed back down at me with antipathy.

"Were you too busy creating erotic fantasies in your heard while Liam was explaining his part of the plan," Harry chastised with irritation. "Because I thought he made it perfectly clear that you, are to use the invitation."

"How are you able to constantly speculate that I am a perpetual horndog?" I questioned, completely irked over Harry's stupid conjecture.

"I don't know," Harry bellowed, ceasing his jaunt down Parisian sidewalks. "How are you able to continuously implicate that I am a corrupt asshat with no sense of empathy?"

"Look, I made the stupid decision to kiss Niall that one time. And yes, I checked out Liam at one point because, news flash," I emphasized, in hopes that Harry could comprehend my thought process. "Liam is fucking gorgeous. But in no way does that equate to me being some constantly horny girl who can't think about anything else but dick... which, you are."

Angrily, I spun on my heel and stomped away from Harry. I hastily picked up my pace and headed towards a boutique dedicated to formal wear. But here's the thing: I have short legs, and when I'm not running, a plugged in toaster could easily catch up to me.

"If I'm such a dick, then why do I work so goddamn hard to make sure you prosper in these tasks?" Harry caught up to me without hindrance, grabbing my arm and spinning me around. With both of his hands, he held my arms with a firm grip, eyeing me with furrowed brows.

"I know you have some messed up ulterior motive," I told him. "I know where you got that gala invitation at, and more importantly, I know who you received it from."

"See, you always say that. You always assume that I'm not on your side. Why? Because I don't praise you like Liam, or douse you with hugs like Niall? How can you be so sure than one of them isn't the enemy?"

"Don't you dare try to depict them as a villain."

"I don't know, because if I truly were against you, then I'd keep you on my side at all times," Harry divulged. "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Right, Tash?"

"Why don't you just go home? I am sorry Harry, truly, for assuming you had no incentive to life," I was genuine in my apology. "But clearly you do. Double majoring at a top school is more difficult than I can ever imagine. So why don't you buy a plane ticket back to California and achieve all your academic goals."

"I accept your apology, but I am not leaving," Harry declared. "You won't understand what I am about to reveal to you, but my family depends on this too."

"What are you saying?" The words came out slow, as I stared up at Harry with wonder.

"You were staring at my lantern tattoo for the first time since Niall's kitchen," Harry's eyes momentarily flickered to the piece of ink on his exposed arm. "You also know that there is a pretty decent sized scar beneath that tattoo. There is a reason for it, one that you do not deserve to know. But, it is one of the driving forces to keep me concentrated on your mission."

I stared at Harry, searching for the truth in his face. I examined his facial expression, inspecting it for any kind of variant that will lead me to believe him to be a liar. But I couldn't find one. I still didn't trust Harry fully, but I knew I could sincerely trust him this one time.

"Alright, fine," I exhaled. "Let's just get what we need and go back to the hotel."

Harry nodded his head in agreement, letting go of my arms, and allowing me to lead the way towards a particular store. As I walked, Harry strolled beside me in silence. When we neared the shop, an explosion of colors and glitter bombarding my eye line, Harry grabbed my arm once again. I looked at him in curiosity, as he sighed.

"I may have not been always truthful, but I wasn't lying earlier."

"I know."

"No, not about my reasoning for wanting to stay on this mission with you," Harry clarified. "About what Liam said in the hotel room."

"What about it?" I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders in confusion.

"The dope part is my honest opinion."

◌ ◌ ◌

It's March. That's crazy. We're at the 3rd month of 2018. It seems like I was just celebrating the new year with friends and family.

The next few chapters are gonna be crazy. It takes place over the span of one night but so much shit happens that I have to spread it out.

Be prepared :)