twenty-nine ◌ welcome to momi bay

✗

The moment my feet touched ground level, I almost licked it. Being in a plane for several hours seriously took a toll on my body, and my sleeping cycle was shot. It felt like early morning, but the environment around me was kissed with darkness. Where I expected the sun, was a crescent shaped moon instead, surrounded by flecks of twinkling lights, and its reflection danced across the dark ocean.

Serenity captivated this island as Harry and I walked across the pavement in between the many beach side villas on Momi Bay, Fiji. Our feet trudged down the pathway, Harry several paces in front of me, while he and I followed one of the employees of this paradise resort. The calming sound of crashing waves filled my ears, as its equally soothing oceanic air ticked my nostrils. So far away from a huge city, this island sat on the opposite end of the spectrum.

"And here we are Mr. and Mrs. Beckett." The sun-kissed employee turned on his heel, brandishing his arms towards a villa at the end the strip.

The island-inspired hut fit well within its tropical atmosphere, and I a let out a small smile in respect. The gorgeous arched rooftop and simple white exteriors radiated minimalism, however as we stepped into this long-stay chateau, it was anything but. My jaw dropped when the employee flicked on the lights, and the stunning interior materialized before us.

"Whoa," I breathed, taking in the luxury apartment.

Hardwood floors in bamboo gray, marble tabletops, and golden fixtures all embellished our home away from home with an elegant touch. When Harry booked our new living arrangements, I expected a grimy motel in a dodgy area of town. But this— this, was nothing short of paradise.

"Thank you so much. We can take it from here," Harry smiled at the employee, handing him a few bills. The man happily took the tip, bowing his head in appreciation.

"I humbly hope you enjoy your honeymoon," the employee bowed his head again, and let himself out the front door.

"I'm assuming our new identities require us to be newlyweds?" I commented as I continued to observe the main living space, dabbling with the random trinkets.

"Yea, it wouldn't make too much sense otherwise," Harry simply explained. "The people who normally come here are couples, wedding parties, girls trip excursions, or families on vacation."

"You can take the room if you want. I don't mind sleeping on the couch," I offered, plopping down on the large, white sofa. I looked over to glance at Harry, who stood in the small kitchen area with his body leaned against the marble countertop.

"There are two rooms," Harry informed, holding his pointer and middle finger up in the air. "Accidental upgrade or something."

He shrugged his shoulders and proceeded to point his fingers on either side of the living room.

"Okay, yea," I simply nodded my head. Standing up from the couch, I grabbed my bags off of the floor. "Thanks Harry. I guess I'm gonna go shower and knock out."

I rounded the pieces of furniture and began to walk towards the open doorway on the left side of the villa. Before I could successfully pass the threshold and into the bedroom, Harry suddenly opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey Tash?"

I halted my steps and turned over my shoulder. "Yea?"

"Are you alright?" Harry asked. The softness in his voice, mixed with the pacifying inflection of his tone, indicated the authenticity of the question. I spun entirely around to give him my full attention.

"Yea, I am."

I wasn't lying— or at least in that moment I wasn't. However, as our night began to settle and we both found ourselves alone in our rooms, did it gradually dawn on me that I was in fact, not okay. The warm shower I took in the lavish bathroom didn't help to wash away the internal soot caking my soul. The cold bottle of water I chugged also did not help to flush away the parabins clutching onto my heart. And despite the tranquil bed my body rested upon, nothing seemed to ebb the continuous flow of tears.

My body convulsed beneath the bedsheets as I expelled everything. For once, in the comforts of my own solitary climate, I allowed myself to be vulnerable. I opened myself up to be weak; to accept the fact that I was weak. The facade I put up in hopes to manifest strength and courage was just that— a disguise. I wasn't strong at all, nor courageous. Because if I were even just an eighth of those traits, then maybe I wouldn't have lost both Niall and Liam.

The outside back porch overlooked the beautiful ocean. It was the only area of these villas that lacked artificial light. Only the glowing radiance from the moon and the stars above, became my only source of light. I sat contently on wooden porch steps at around 2AM, watching the dark waves roll rhythmically to shore. With the soft breeze and the serenity of the outdoors, I hoped mother nature could lull me into a deep sleep.

"Jet lagged too?"

A deep, yet soft voice trickled into my ears and when I turned over my shoulder, I found Harry standing behind me. He had a blanket draped over one arm, while both his hands held onto ceramic mugs.

"My sleeping cycle is seriously messed up," I commented with a sigh.

Harry took a seat next to me, handing over one of the mugs in his hand. I took the cup, my fingers tingling from the warmth radiating from the contents inside.

"It's not poisoned is it?" I teased, smirking at Harry who reciprocated my joke with a light laugh.

"What kind of asshat would I be if I didn't poison your tea?" Harry mused.

I softly chuckled, giving him a head nod in approval, before bringing the mug to my lips. Slowly tilting the ceramic cup back, the warm, sweet liquid sloshed down my throat with a soothing touch. As I drank the tea, Harry unfolded the blanket and proceeded to wrap the polyester material around the both of us.

"Thanks," I spoke. "Hopefully this will help me fall asleep."

"No big deal," Harry shrugged.

We were silent for a few minutes, just relishing in each other's company. For the first time in a while, I actually didn't want to strangle the dimpled boy, and I let myself enjoy the peace between us.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Harry suddenly offered.

I looked over at him with a tilt of my head. "Talk about what? How your poisoning skills suck, because I've drank about half this mug already and I'm still alive."

"You're so weird," Harry laughed, nudging my shoulder with his. "What I mean, is that it's only us two now. So if you wanna talk about whatever it was you were crying about earlier, then I'm here for you."

"Who says I was crying?" I lifted a brow, my question spewing out of my mouth more defensive than intended.

"Tash, face it," Harry looked at me with seriousness. "You cry like a dying demonic horse."

My jaw dropped in pure surprise as a smile slowly creeped up on Harry's face. I couldn't help the bouts of giggles that escaped my system in response to Harry's rude comment.

"I mean even I got scared. I wasn't sure if I should go into your room with a cup of tea or some holy water," Harry continued to tease me, in between hysterical laughter.

"You're such a jerk," I smacked his shoulder, but continued to laugh alongside him. As our chuckles faded, drifting into the island breeze, Harry spoke up again.

"But seriously Tash, as much as you irritate the shit out of me, I have your back."

Out of nowhere my heart detonated, and the residue following this internal explosion resulted in more tears. So often I would convince myself that tears were a sign of weakness; that girls shouldn't be allowed to cry, because then we let ourselves fall into an archetype that the feminists before us already wiped clean. I didn't know it then, but tears were not a sign of fragility— they were a small indication of strength.

"Hey there, you'll be okay," Harry cooed. He rested his mug on the porch before bringing both his arms around my body. Like second nature, I buried my face into his warm chest, hearing the rhythmic patterns of his heavy heartbeat.

"I just want Niall back, and Liam, and I just really hate this particular life, and oh my God I'm so sorry for putting you in this mess," I sobbed— hard.

My previous spell of tears obviously needed a grand finale, and this was it. Aftershocks can sometimes be ten times worse than the initial earthquake, and this aftershock— this heart-grueling, throat-burning, soul-disintegrating followup became the most intense aftermath.

"You didn't put me in this mess Tash, I promise you. And I know it fucking sucks that we don't have Niall or Liam, but they are still here with us," Harry rocked me back and forth, resting his chin atop my head. "You've come this far babygirl, and you've still got the strength to keep pushing forward."

"I'm not... I'm not strong at a-all," I argued, my words coming out in fragments of hopelessness. "I b-barely can h-handle this."

"Several weeks ago I would've pegged you for a quitter," Harry admitted. "I thought you would've thrown in the towel, gone to authorities, and messed up this entire mission because daddy's little girl couldn't buckle down and work. But Tash, I was completely wrong. So, so, so wrong."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Look at me Tash."

Harry released his soothing arms from my body to place his hands on either side of my cheeks. With a soft tug, he maneuvered my head so that I could face him in all my pathetic glory.

"You are one of the most ferocious people I know, with a great deal of mental strength," Harry's testimony punched me square in the chest. His tone was stern and serious, yet carried notes of extreme care. His forrest green eyes that reflected the moon above, gazed into mine with nothing but honesty.

"Then why do I feel like this? Why do I feel so weak?" My voice croaked as I spoke, another round of tears dribbling from my eyes.

"It's just a feeling because you're overwhelmed and that's okay," Harry assured. Using his thumbs, Harry swiped away the new tears away from my face before he continued, "Even Wonder Woman has her days. But like her, you don't let anyone fuck around with you— whether it's a rogue group of intelligence, or it's some British asshat who loves kombutcha, you know how to hold down a fortress and kick serious ass."

I stared into Harry's eyes, looking for some kind of clue that told me he was lying; that his inspiring pep-talk were just mere words in attempt to stop me from crying. But the more and more I searched for an indicator of fabrication, did I discover only truth in Harry's argument.

"Tasha," he spoke again, and I nodded my head once. "You're dope, girl. And don't fucking let anyone make you think otherwise."

I nodded my head in silence, setting down the mug in my hands and opened up my arms. The blanket that covered Harry and I fell to the porch as I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly. I buried my face into the crook of his neck, my tears finally subsiding, as Harry reciprocated the embrace. He softly rubbed my back, comforting me from the toes up. After several moments, we finally separated, but not before Harry took my face in his hands once more, and placed a delicate kiss on my forehead.

Sometime around 1PM, I woke up swaddled in a blanket with several fluffy pillows surrounding me like a fortress. Comfort was at an all time high, and as I stretched my body against the wondrous mattress, I could hear music playing in the distance. Sitting up in bed, I was met with one of the most stunning views my eyes had ever landed upon. I didn't notice the picturesque canvas the night prior due to to the dark, but as gazed out the rectangular glass right in front of me, I couldn't help the heavenly sensation prickling my skin. Palm trees, bright blue waters, and gorgeous green grass greeted me with such a celestial opulence, I could've sworn I had died and gone to heaven.

Dragging my groggy body out of bed proved to be difficult, because when I began to brush my teeth, I found myself jumping on top of the covers with a plop, as oppose to leaning over the marbled sink. After taking care of my pearly whites, I splashed cold water on my face, brushed my unruly head of hair, and threw it into a ponytail at the back of my head.

"Good afternoon sleepyhead," Harry looked up at me from his place on the couch, as I emerged from the confines of my bedroom.

"I'm hungry," I bluntly declared, and Harry chuckled.

"Me too. I was thinking that we head over to the convenience store they have in town to buy some groceries," Harry suggested, standing up from the couch. "We have a kitchen now, might as well use it."

"I think the most I can cook is white rice— in a rice cooker, might I add. Oh, and I can fry up Spam and eggs too," I told him with a grin. With my mother being a wonderful chef, I rarely stepped foot in the kitchen to turn on a stove.

"Calm down master chef," Harry playfully acknowledged, throwing his hands up in surrender. "But seriously, go put something decent on so we can go outside."

I scoffed at his statement, gesturing for my body. "Do my oversized sweats and Grand Canyon shirt not exude tropical chic?"

"You've been wearing that shirt for the last five days, it's starting to smell like old oatmeal," Harry smirked.

"Wow..." The word faded and my lips lifted into an agreeing grin.

"There's a washer and dryer in the hallway closet," he informed, pointing for the corridor on his end of the villa. "We can do laundry later. But come on, let's go to the store first."

Harry grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into the back pocket of his fitted denim shorts that cut off at the knees. The white shirt adorning his torso brought out the brightness of his eyes, and it appeared to me that I haven't seen Harry look so... light? I wasn't sure of the word to describe his aura, but it was definitely less somber, and more fresh.

After throwing on a pair of shorts and an ultra-loose, yellow shirt, Harry and I ventured out of our villa at the end of the strip. The sun's rays beat down on us, instantly warming up our skin, and I mentally high-fived myself for changing clothes. The island was littered with tourists, employees, and locals, all enjoying what Fiji had to offer. Swimming, snorkeling, beach side massages, and indulging on shaved ice all were just a few highlights of Momi Bay's activity menu.

"Tash, catch!"

"Aw shit!"

With wide eyes, I rapidly spun around on the balls of my feet and held out the plastic basket in my hands. The packaged pasta shells Harry tossed in my direction flew in the air from two aisles over, and I maneuvered the basket in its path. The box of uncooked penne landed perfectly in the crate amongst the other grocery items, and I let out a whoop of excitement.

"Did we do it? Did it land in the basket?" Harry questioned, his voice increasing in volume as he made his way over to me. I watched his head of curly hair hidden beneath a black, backwards snapback bob above the metal shelves.

"It was a perfect shot," I complimented, brandishing out the basket as Harry entered the aisle I stood in.

"Nice," Harry smiled. "Now stay here, I'm gonna grab some flour on the other end of the store and see if I can make it from aisle ten."

The excited boy turned around, took a step forward and began his trek towards the baking supplies.

"Harry, no!" I protested, grabbing him by the hand. Harry ceased his steps and turned to look at me with a challenging expression.

"Don't tell me you're not down," Harry cocked a brow.

"Uh, no, of course not," I sassed. "What if I don't catch it and the bag of flour breaks? That's a mess I know no one wants to clean up."

"Well, I guess you're just gonna have to make sure you don't drop it," Harry pressed, a child-like quirk to his voice. Once again he turned around, and bolted towards aisle ten.

"Harry tama na," I catapulted after him, reaching the playful boy in between the second section of shelves. I snatched Harry's shirt, pulling him back. As he struggled to unlatch himself from my grip, I used the opportunity to set down the basket of groceries on the floor next to us.

(translation: that's enough)

"Tash let me go, and let me have some fun," Harry insisted, reaching his arms forward.

"I'm not letting you throw flour across the store," I told him through gritted teeth. Managing to wrap both my arms around Harry's waist, I kept him at bay with a stronger anchor. I continued to pull him back, as a stream of hysterical giggles escaped Harry's mouth.

That's right— giggled.

Like the carefree, overjoyed, a-rush-of-dopamine kind of giggle. The kind of loud laughter where your entire body shakes, and your stomach forms abs from the cinching pain. That's what Harry sounded like.

"Let me go," Harry groaned.

"Over my dead body," I shot back with a laugh. Siphoning the rest of my strength, I tightly held Harry in my arms and planted my face into his back. I gave him one last, vigorous pull in an effort to thwart his evil endeavors, and when I did, the last thing I heard was a loud crash.

Harry and I tumbled onto the tiled floor, a cascade of packaged crackers falling atop our heads like rainfall. We sat there, Harry in between my legs, full on laughing. The situation was all too amusing for us to handle, and instead of suppressing it, we embraced the fuck out of it.

ANTI took a lot from us— hell, my own father took a substantial amount of good from our lives. Harry and I were submerged in darkness, and all our routine consisted of for the last several weeks was fear. Despite being legally adults and delving into very mature situations, we were both still shithead kids who just needed to let loose and be child-like for once.

"Well aren't you two just a breath of fresh air!"

My laughter slowly subsided as I turned my focus to a new set of vocals filtering into my ears. An elderly woman, probably around her late 60's, with greying hair and a bright orange Hawaiian shirt stood in the aisle with an amused grin painted across her aging face.

"I'm sorry ma'am, are we in your way?" Harry apologized, as he stood up from the floor. He held out his hand in my direction, and without hesitation I took it.

"Oh not at all, I'm just delighted by your quirky attitude to life," the woman expressed.

"Junebug? I found those chocolates you like," an elderly man approached us, holding a small package of candy. He wore a matching Hawaiian shirt as the woman, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. When his eyes fell on both Harry and I, he smiled. "Why hello, there."

"Hi," I waved, before holding out my hand. "I'm sorry, I'm so rude. My name is Ta—" my words abruptly halted and I looked at Harry. On this wonderful island of Fiji, who the hell was I?

"Amanda," Harry stepped in, throwing an arm around my shoulders as I nervously laughed. "Her name is Amanda, I'm Zachary, and we are the Becketts."

"How lovely," the woman gushed. "I'm June, this is my husband Ralph," she gestured for the old man with pride, "and we are the Fitzgeralds. We're here celebrating our fiftieth wedding anniversary."

"Wow," I gasped, a wide grin forming on my face. "That's so magical. Congratulations!"

"Are you two honeymooning?" The elderly man, Ralph, questioned.

"Yes we are," Harry answered without missing a beat, and pulled me in closer. "Show them the ring, babygirl."

Before I had to chance to shoot him a glare laced with utmost confusion, Harry's hand already found itself beneath my shirt. He pulled out my mother's ring from the top hem, and showed off the shiny diamond.

"How wonderful?" June chirped. "And I like that you have it on the necklace. You wouldn't want to lose it out here on the island."

"Yea, that'd be terrible," I agreed, taking the necklace and dropping it back into its place beneath my shirt.

"Will you two be here for The Night Of Iridescence?" Ralph questioned, hopefulness in his voice.

"What's that?" I asked, cocking my head in wonder.

"It's a festival of new beginnings. It's supposed to be a wonderful event on the first of June," June explained, elation buzzing around her as she spoke.

"Oh possibly," Harry replied for the both of us. He beamed at the elderly couple. "We're both just going with the flow."

"Ah, I see. Well I don't want to keep you two from any plans," June moved the conversation along. "It was nice to meet you cuties. We're in villa number twenty-one if you need anything."

"Thank you so much," I smiled. "And it was nice to meet you too."

With that, June and Ralph walked away in their matching orange shirts. My heart bursted from the amount of cuteness surging from them and I low-key wanted to be their best friend. Harry seemed to read my mind, because when he spoke again, it was an agreeing testament.

"That's it, we're going on a double date with them."

◌ ◌ ◌

This chapter was definitely one of my favorites to write! I really hoped you enjoyed is as much as I loved creating it. Things between Tasha and Harry are starting to come into fruition, and I'm excited! 

Thank you all for reading my story and showing the support that you do! I started writing this story when I was in a negative headspace, and I developed Tasha using qualities I lacked. During the production of You're Dope, Girl, I felt so low about myself; so insecure. School was hard, my Filipino family put so much pressure on me, and I just didn't feel like a confident badass who could defend herself. 

So Tasha Aquino is a character very special to me, and I hope she resonates with you all too.