Chapter 6 - The Prince Sends a Message

"What the hell is happening, Viv?" Ren asked while navigating the road. Her voice was shaking.

"I Matched with the prince," I said, flatly. Exhausted all of the sudden. Saying the words made the whole thing true, and it sounded so weird…but pleasant at the same time.

"What?!" She practically yelled. "So, what those hounds were saying was actually true? I thought they were just mistaken."

"They got to you so fast. How did they do that?" I asked myself, wondering how the hell all those reporters got there so fast.

My phone rang and I flinched, surprised. Mom is calling. Shit. If they got to my sister fast, they're probably in my house right now.

I answered quickly.

"Mom? Hello?"

"Vivienne! There are people outside looking for you! They said they were reporters. They're saying weird things–" she was rambling on the phone, and I can hear dad in the background telling Millie to stay away from the windows.

"Mom, mom! Listen to me. Don't ever open the door. We're coming through the backdoor," I said firmly.

She didn't ask any more questions and only said, "Be careful, Viv."

I hung up and told Ren the situation. She cursed under her breath and stepped on the gas pedal. I held my breath as the acceleration pushed me back to my chair.

"We'll leave the car near Mrs Jones' place and then walk through the alleyways," she said, concocting a plan.

I laughed despite the chaos. "Damn, I never thought your escape plan would come handy in a situation other than going to parties and coming home undetected."

She laughed and cursed, too. The adrenaline of the last half an hour still in our veins. We should be home in 20 minutes by the way she's speeding through the road. But she said we should take the alternative, longer path to avoid any reporter who might have followed us.

We did reach our neighborhood soon enough and parked near Mrs Jones' house, and walked through the narrow alleyways in between the houses to reach our backyard.

We see our fence. I can hear reporters and cars and people in our front lawn, so we tiptoed as quietly and as covert as we can, climbed through the makeshift ladder we made back then, pulled it up so no one would think about using it to trespass, and jumped through our fence.

"Mom!" I whispered as loudly as I could while knocking on our home's back door. A few seconds later, mom opened it.

"Vivienne, Serenity! Thank God," she hugged us both and gave me a once over, looking at my probably disheveled appearance, and down my bare foot, scratched and probably slightly burned from running on a hot pavement.

Dad and Millie came in the kitchen, running towards us and giving us both a hug, too.

"What's happening, Viv?" My dad asked.

"She got Matched with the prince," Ren answered for me before getting a glass of cold water and sitting down on the kitchen seat.

"What? But how?!" My dad asked, incredulous. My mom was also surprised. Millie just heard the word "prince" and clapped her hands.

"I don't know, dad. I asked the Harmony employees if there was some sort of mistake and they said they couldn't see anything, yet." I answered, slumping beside Ren.

"Yet?" It was my mom's turn to ask.

"The head tech guy said if there was a mistake, it could be deep into the system. But he can only check if the royal family orders him. As of leaving the center, he said he hasn't received any orders," I explained. "So, that means I've probably, most likely, actually been Matched with the prince."

"Wait, which prince?" My dad asked, confused. He wasn't exactly a politics-monarchy-knowing person.

"Prince Christopher. The youngest. Duhh, dad!" Millie answered. I forgot she has quite the fascination/obsession with the prince.

"Have you contacted him, then?" My mom asked me. By now, we're all sitting in the kitchen, as far away from the reporters in front of our lawn.

Shit. I haven't. I haven't even checked my HarmonyMatch app since everything went down.

"Go up, rest while you can. We'll call the cops and see what we can do to keep those nosy bastards off our property," dad told me, standing up and giving me an awkward half hug.

We all dispersed, me and my sisters choosing to go upstairs as our parents called cops and the mayor and.

"We'll leave you to it, sis. You've had a rough morning," Ren said, pulling Millie to her.

"But I wanted to ask Vivienne about the prince!" I can hear Millie whining as Ren pushed her towards her room.

I double checked every window of my room, then went to my bathroom. As the eldest, I've been lucky enough to have my own in my room. I also checked the windows, and only when I can assure no one can see into my private space, did I strip down and climb on the bathtub that's filling with warm water.

"Now or never, Skye," I hyped myself, then took my phone from the sink beside the tub and opened HarmonyMatch.

There are 28 messages from my Match.

I cursed loudly. The prince might have been thinking I was ghosting him. I opened them all and went to the very first message.

"Hi, miss Harper. This might have been a surprise to you. It is for me as well," the prince wrote. God, even in sending a message to his future wife, he's still so polite.

Future wife. I just said that.

"Miss Harper? Are you there?"

"Miss Harper, are you okay? I've been briefed on what's happening in your HarmonyCenter."

"Miss Harper, please respond, so I know you're okay."

He had been trying to get in touch with me, asking how I am and what's the situation. The last few messages read:

"Miss Harper, I think you're busy avoiding the press. I would like to apologize. While it is out of our hands, I guarantee you I am working to ensure your safety."

"Miss Harper, rest assured help and assistance are being dispatched to help with your media problem. I've also asked Harmony how your details were leaked so quickly."

"Miss Harper, are you there?" The last message read, sent just a couple of minutes ago.

The prince has been nothing but polite to me in his texts and I forgot to send him a quick hi. But to my defense, I actually was busy running around, quite literally. Still I felt a bit guilty.

"Your Highness, sorry I haven't seen your messages. As you might have guessed, I was actually busy running from the press. Quite literally. It wasn't my intention to ignore your messages."

I hit send after a couple of minutes of contemplating whether I'm polite enough or what.

I sent another message: "It would be amazing if you can do something about the press, Your Highness. They're nearly invading my home, and I still live with my family. I just want them safe."

And another: "P.S. Please call me Vivienne. Or Skye. Your call." I added a smiling emoji, too, and I don't know if I'm pushing my luck.

I bit my lip as I hit the send button, then put my phone back on the side of the sink, not sure if I wanted to see more messages from the prince.

The Prince. I am actually talking to the Prince.

I dunked my head in the tub and held my breath for as long as I could.