Emily reached out to Eli's phone and pinched the screen to zoom the photo. 

It was a photo of Maxen sitting on a bar stool with his chin propped on his knuckles. 

Thankfully, Olivia's back was facing the camera that her identity remained a mystery. 

As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, and that was exactly what the photo delivered, and what most captions read.

In the photo, there was no denying that Maxen's eyes were shooting stars and hearts as he fixed his gaze on the woman beside him.

"Spotted: Prince Maxen's mystery lady. Will Nisia be hearing royal wedding bells soon?" Creases formed on Ava's forehead as she read the caption of the online news outlet.

"Oh shoot. Who took it? Doesn't look like it was taken by a pro." Her eyes darted from the screen to Eli who replied with a shrug.

"A London immigrant from Nisia uploaded the photo but it got deleted right away, however it's late when it spread like wildfire the second it went online," Eli narrated. "I read as much news as I could on the way here."

"Wouldn't it be a problem with the wedding tomorrow?" Ava addressed her question to Emily. "Paparazzi will be hot on Maxen's tail now that he's under their radars."

"Let Ollie and Wyatt figure it out," Emily swept the issue under the rug. She wiggled Eli's phone and gushed, "This photo is lovely. I'll have it printed so we can hang it somewhere in the cabin for tomorrow."

"Do we need to call them?" Ava asked. "Shouldn't we have like an emergency meeting or something?"

Sipping his tea, Eli placed it back on the saucer and shook his head. "I'm sure Jack is working on it too. Is there anything that we needed to finish tonight for the wedding?"

"Everythiiing is set. Well, if you could offer some eggs for a fair weather tomorrow, then that would be greatly appreciateeed," Emily tweeted. 

"Thank the gods for asking eggs and not balls as an offertory." Eli's hand flew to his c.h.e.s.t as he dramatically huffed. He scurried to the fridge and took out one egg for each hand.

Holding the eggs up, Emily, Ava, and Eli chanted, "St. Clare, please grant us clear skies tomorrow."

Just as the prayer ended, Finn bumped Eli, causing the egg to slip from his hand. "Oh sh—oot. Shoot." He almost cursed. His eyes widen for a second before switching into a positive mode. "Relax, ladies. We still have one."

Ava mouthed a sorry. She reached out for a paper towel to clean up the mess. While she was busy cleaning, Emily finally let go of her wine glass.

"Do you want to see my big project at the back? Let's find a nice spot for your egg outside."

"Absolutely." Eli grinned. He offered a hand to Emily, and the two stepped out of the cabin, leaving Ava to look after the kids inside.

Later that night, Olivia and her drunk companions were back in Ollie's London mansion.

The three men were singing slurry songs of their youth as their arms slung on each other's shoulders with Maxen sandwiched between Wyatt and Ollie.

"Brotheeers!" Ollie's voice boomed in the grand area. He yanked his arm free and hugged his friends, forming a circle. "Let's do this again next month!"

"Just us?" Wyatt c.o.c.ked his head to the side.

"No, just us. You're not invited, Wyatt," Ollie joked.

"Pffft! Don't go crying if you miss me, Ollie the softee!" Wyatt teased, his cheeky grin exposed his teeth so bright it shone against the softly lit room. "Come here, let me hug you tighter so you won't miss me."

Wyatt let go of Maxen, but paused for a second. He was holding in his chuckle as he spoke, "And you, Maxen. Don't get jealous. Ollie might get a hug now, but you know I'll give up my life for you."

"Nonesense!" Maxen swatted Wyatt's finger that was pointing at him. He reached out to Ollie and Wyatt and made another round of hugs. 

Maxen and Wyatt then planted a kiss on each of Ollie's cheeks. The three were giggling like teenage girls and Olivia just sat on the sofa, drinking in the men's alter persona, one which only their tight-knit circle knew of.

Suddenly, Wyatt started singing.

~Hello, hello, hello, how low.

Hello, hello, hello, how low.~

Ollie and Maxen's eye glistened with excitement. Their fingers itched to tap into something as Wyatt continued singing. Soon, the trio was singing their guts out. 

Three grown-ass men turned the sofa into their stage, jumping while singing on top of their lungs. Wyatt turned a lamp into a makeshift guitar while Ollie trashed the place, smashing anything that his hands could reach on the marble floor. 

Maxen, on the other hand, found his wife, and danced with her amidst the chaos that erupted in the great room. The couple twirled in uncoordinated steps amidst the raining down feathers, and dissolved in laughter, drowning into what felt as if the best version of Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit song.

~I'm worse at what I do best

And for this gift I feel blessed

Our little group has always been

And always will until the end

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello

With the lights out, it's less dangerous

Here we are now, entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now, entertain us

A mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido

Yeah, hey!~

"Sweetie?" Ava's hushed voice was loud enough to interrupt the onslaught of the tornado in the guise of Oliver Lin in the great room. She was alone. Ollie guessed that Emily and the children stayed in the cabin for the night and Ava just dropped by to check in on the 'boys' as she called them.

~Hello, hello, hello, how low.

Hello, hello, hello, how low.

Hello, hello, hello, how low.~

To their surprise, Ava jumped started the broken song, sparking an encore performance, and more raining down feathers courtesy of Ollie and Ava ripping pillows together this time.