Unprecedented Ascension: William and Catherine Step Forward as King and Queen—Britain’s Quiet Revolution

Chapter 1: The Gates Open

The palace gates opened to a sight no one expected so soon. Catherine and William stepped forward—not as heirs, but as King and Queen—carrying centuries of history on their shoulders. Gasps rippled through the crowd as tradition met an uncertain future. Every gesture, every glance felt heavier than ceremony. The world watched in disbelief. Whispers spread. Was this planned or forced by fate? Cameras flashed, hearts raced, and the monarchy shifted before our eyes.

What moment led Britain to witness this astonishing first-time royal transformation?

 

Chapter 2: Stepping Into Destiny

The beginning of a new year often carries a special kind of energy. It invites reflection, awakens hope, and signals the possibility of change. For most people, this sense of renewal is personal and quiet. But for the Prince of Wales, the arrival of 2026 appears to open the door to something far bigger—a year described as powerful, demanding, and deeply transformative.

According to renowned astrologer Debbie Frank, this is not just another year in Prince William’s journey, but one that may mark a clear turning point in his public life and inner world. As the first in line to the British throne, Prince William has long lived with the knowledge that leadership will one day rest on his shoulders. Yet, Debbie suggests that 2026 brings this reality into sharper focus than ever before.

From the very earliest days of the year, his sense of responsibility is stirred, calling him to step forward in ways that feel both challenging and defining. This is not a gradual awakening, but an immediate one, almost as if the year itself announces it is time.

Speaking exclusively to Hello, Debbie Frank explains that as early as January 3rd, a powerful full moon activates what she calls Prince William’s destiny point. In astrology, such moments are believed to awaken a person to their larger purpose, pushing them to see their path more clearly. For William, this lunar influence appears to serve as an early signal that 2026 will not be a quiet or ordinary year. Instead, it carries weight, intensity, and long-lasting consequences.

This early awareness sets the tone for what follows as the months progress, particularly from February onward. Astrological shifts begin to highlight deeper changes. Both Prince William’s sun and moon are positioned in Cancer, a sign known for sensitivity, emotional depth, and a strong sense of protection and care. When this sign is activated, it often brings powerful emotional experiences and a heightened awareness of duty, especially toward family and community.

Debbie notes that these planetary movements point to a big change that directly touches William’s inner world. His natural instinct shaped by Cancer’s energy may be to withdraw slightly to seek comfort, privacy, and emotional safety. In simpler terms, he may feel the urge to retreat into his shell to protect himself from the growing pressure and expectations around him. This reaction is deeply human and speaks to the emotional cost of leadership.

Yet despite this instinct to pull back, Prince William does not do so. Instead, he steps forward. According to Debbie, this is where his true strength begins to show. Rather than hardening himself or becoming distant, he leans into one of his greatest qualities: empathy. His ability to understand others, feel their struggles, and respond with compassion becomes not a weakness, but a powerful asset. In fact, Debbie describes empathy as his superpower as a future king.

This idea paints a compelling picture of leadership, one that is not built on authority alone, but on emotional connection. William’s journey through 2026 appears to test his resilience while also refining his character. He is not simply taking on more tasks or public duties. He is growing into a deeper version of his role, one that demands emotional intelligence as much as public presence.

Chapter 3: The Queen Consort’s Quiet Power

Beyond his personal development, Debbie also highlights a noticeable expansion in Prince William’s public responsibilities. She suggests that there will be a greater need for him to be visible, active, and engaged on both national and international stages. This means more appearances, more global involvement, and a stronger role in representing the monarchy beyond the borders of the UK.

At the same time, his connection to the people at home remains crucial. Debbie emphasizes that William will be very present for the people in the UK, suggesting a balance between global duty and local responsibility. This dual focus reflects the modern expectations placed on royal leadership—being a figure of international influence while remaining grounded in the lives and concerns of ordinary citizens.

Taken together, these insights present 2026 as a year of profound shaping for the Prince of Wales. It is a year that challenges him to rise, not by abandoning who he is, but by embracing it more fully. His sensitivity, often seen as a quiet trait, becomes a guiding force. His sense of duty, long understood intellectually, becomes deeply felt and actively lived.

In many ways, this moment feels less like a sudden leap and more like a natural unfolding. The pressures increase, the spotlight grows brighter, and the demands become heavier, but so does his clarity. Prince William appears to be stepping into a phase where preparation turns into action and potential begins to look like reality.

As 2026 unfolds, the world may witness a prince who is not only more visible, but also more emotionally present, more engaged, and more aligned with his future role. If Debbie Frank’s insights are any indication, this is not just a year of responsibility, but one of purpose—a year that gently but firmly nudges the Prince of Wales closer to the king he is becoming.

Chapter 4: Catherine’s Leadership Emerges

Was Prince William alone in his step into the crown? Was Catherine involved in something similar? Is it just a stand-in or a full-time takeover? Let’s find out.

A reign that began without a coronation. When Catherine sat down to co-chair the Commonwealth Youth Forum with Princess Anne, a quiet but meaningful change took place. There was no grand display, no royal drama, no show of power or status. Nothing flashy marked the moment. Yet the room felt different.

What mattered was not her title, but her presence. She led without noise, spoke through calm confidence, and showed that true influence often comes from character, intention, and the way one chooses to show up. She did not arrive to dominate the room. She arrived to serve it.

From the very beginning, Catherine’s approach was disarming in its simplicity. Her words were carefully chosen, clear, and grounded. She spoke about humility, not as a weakness, but as a strength that keeps leadership honest. She spoke about responsibility, not as a burden passed downward, but as a shared duty carried together. She spoke about purpose, not as a lofty slogan, but as something built through daily actions, listening ears, and consistent integrity.

Most striking of all was how little she spoke compared to how much she listened. While many leaders feel the need to fill every silence, Catherine allowed space. She leaned forward as others spoke. She acknowledged ideas without rushing to correct or reframe them. She asked thoughtful questions that showed she was fully present.

In a room filled with young delegates from across the Commonwealth, many of whom were used to being talked at rather than listened to, this alone changed everything.

The response was immediate and genuine. Applause did not come out of obligation or protocol. It came from recognition. People felt seen. They felt respected. They felt that the person chairing the forum was not there to perform leadership but to practice it. And that distinction mattered.

Chapter 5: A New Model of Influence

There were no strict formalities guiding the moment. No stiff adherence to hierarchy. What replaced them was something rarer: trust. The delegates responded with openness, honesty, and enthusiasm. Conversations deepened. Ideas flowed more freely. The room felt less like a ceremonial gathering and more like a shared workshop for the future.

Outside the hall, the message spread quickly. Headlines did not focus on fashion or optics. They focused on influence. Commentators noted the calm authority she carried, the confidence without arrogance, the leadership without force. The tone was unmistakable. Catherine was not simply representing the institution. She was shaping it quietly.

Miles away at Sandringham, King Charles followed the developments. There was no public statement, no official declaration. But those close to him understood that he saw clearly what was unfolding. He recognized that something long missing was being restored—not through power, but through principle.

“She isn’t replacing anyone,” he is said to have observed. “She’s restoring what was nearly lost.” That acknowledgement carried weight. It spoke to a deeper truth about leadership and legacy.

Institutions do not decline all at once. They erode slowly, often through distance—distance between leaders and people, between duty and humility, between power and service.

What Catherine demonstrated was not a new model, but a return to an older, sturdier one. She did not need to be crowned to lead. Her authority did not come from titles or future promises. It came from conduct, from restraint, from the quiet discipline of putting the mission before the self.

Chapter 6: Presence Over Pageantry

In a world increasingly shaped by noise, speed, and self-promotion, her stillness stood out. Her patience became a statement. Her listening became an act of leadership.

This was not a moment of ambition. It was a moment of alignment. Catherine did not present herself as the future ruler in waiting. She presented herself as a servant of the present. And in doing so, she made the future feel steadier, more trustworthy, more human.

What began at the Commonwealth Youth Forum did not end there. It lingered in conversations, in reflections, in the growing sense that leadership could still look like this: calm, thoughtful, grounded. People did not leave talking about what she wore or how she carried herself. They left talking about how she made them feel—capable, included, and valued.

That is how real leadership begins. Not with a coronation, but with credibility. Not with power, but with presence. Not with command, but with care.

Catherine may not have worn a crown that day. Yet, in the eyes of many, something far more enduring was already in place—a reign not marked by dominance, but by trust, not driven by ego, but by service, not imposed from above, but built carefully, patiently from within.

And in that quiet, undeniable way, her leadership had already begun.

Chapter 7: The Day Britain Felt the Shift

How did Catherine’s appearance in the Queen’s role take place? Where did it take place? Let’s delve into the details of how it happened.

The day Britain felt the shift before it was named. Long before broadcasters spoke or royal aides prepared their careful words, Britain already sensed the change. No headline announced it. No trumpet sounded. Instead, it arrived softly, like a pause everyone felt at once.

It drifted through living rooms and workplaces, onto buses, into cafes. People noticed it in glances, silences, slowed routines. A chapter was turning. History was nudging the present. Something weighty, familiar, yet strange was moving, and the nation quietly adjusted its breath.

Change felt inevitable, unannounced, but unmistakable, settling gently before understanding fully formed everywhere quietly.

There were no alarms ringing at Buckingham Palace. No sudden press conference that stopped the nation mid-step. The gates stood as they always had. Guards remained steady at their posts, and the familiar routines of royal life continued, outwardly unchanged.

Yet beneath that calm surface, a subtle tension hummed. From Windsor’s manicured grounds to the stone corridors of Westminster, from bustling city streets to quiet living rooms glowing with evening light, people felt it. The monarchy, an institution defined by tradition and predictability, had stepped onto unfamiliar ground.

Chapter 8: The Unspoken Transition

The feeling was not panic. It was not even fear. It was closer to expectancy—the kind that fills a room just before a door opens. Conversations lowered in volume. News anchors chose their words more carefully. Even those who rarely paid attention to royal matters found themselves listening, watching, waiting.

History did not announce itself loudly this time. It arrived on soft feet, and that made it impossible to ignore.

Then William and Catherine appeared. They did not walk forward with the careful hesitation of heirs preparing for a distant future. There was no visible rehearsal, no sense of people trying on roles that did not yet belong to them.

Instead, they carried themselves with a quiet confidence, as though the weight of responsibility had already settled on their shoulders, and they had accepted it. Their posture, their expressions, the calm certainty in their movements all suggested the same thing. They were not waiting for leadership to be handed to them. They were already leading.

That, more than any rumor or whisper, startled the nation.

Chapter 9: The Nation Watches

For years the public had spoken of William as the future king, of Catherine as someone still growing into her place. The words “One day” always hovered nearby. But now that distance seemed to collapse. The future had leaned forward, pressing close to the present.

People began to ask themselves questions they had not expected to ask so soon. Was the transition already happening? Had the monarchy quietly crossed a line without ever naming it?

As always, rumors rushed in to fill the silence. Some spoke in hushed tones about King Charles III’s health, pointing to his recent appearances, reading meaning into pauses and expressions. Others suggested that urgent decisions had been made behind closed doors, meetings held late into the night, conversations that would never reach public ears.

There were even those who believed something more symbolic was at work—that the crown itself, shaped by centuries of survival, had recognized its moment, not through force or crisis, but through readiness. A passing of responsibility guided not by age alone, but by timing.

Across the country, people watched more closely than they realized. Every glance exchanged between senior royals was studied, every small gesture given weight. When members of the royal family stood together, observers searched their faces for clues, reassurance, concern, resolve. Long-standing relationships suddenly felt charged with new meaning, as though everyone involved understood that they were standing at the edge of a turning point.

Chapter 10: The Global Stage

Beyond Britain’s borders, the attention was just as sharp. Foreign journalists took careful notes. Diplomats listened closely to phrasing and protocol. The monarchy, after all, is not only a national symbol, but a global one. Its shifts are felt far beyond palace walls.

What seemed like quiet continuity to some looked like strategic movement to others. What made the moment so powerful was its restraint. There was no dramatic declaration to mark the change. No single sentence that could be quoted as the beginning of a new chapter.

Instead, the sense of history came from what was unsaid—from the calm way William and Catherine occupied space, from the steady way the institution adjusted around them, from the collective understanding that Britain was witnessing not an ending, but a careful, deliberate unfolding.

In a world accustomed to sudden breaks and loud revolutions, this felt different. It felt intentional. The monarchy was not being pushed forward by crisis. It was stepping forward because it could, because the people at its center were ready.

And so history arrived quietly, not with drums or declarations, but with a shared pause, a nation leaning in together. In that silence, Britain recognized something rare—a moment when change did not demand attention, yet commanded it all the same.

Chapter 11: The Sacred Moment

Were Princess Catherine and Prince William crowned as the Queen and King? Who were the royal family members involved? Let’s dive into the details of the sacred moment.

A blessing that became a declaration of readiness. The moment of change did not come with loud sounds or public celebration. There were no drums, no trumpet blasts, and no bold announcement to alert the world that something important had happened. Instead, it crept in softly. It came through deliberate, thoughtful words spoken in a setting heavy with memory—a place where the past feels alive, where every wall seems to hear, and where even silence understands that a new chapter has begun.

Inside Westminster Abbey, under tall stone arches that have witnessed centuries of power, promise, failure, and renewal, the Archbishop of Canterbury raised his voice in blessing. His tone was calm, measured, almost gentle. To many ears, it could have sounded like yet another ceremonial prayer, familiar and expected. But beneath the softness of his words lay a message that cut far deeper than tradition.

What he spoke of was not glory. It was responsibility. In that sacred space, the archbishop made something clear without ever stating it directly. A crown is not simply something passed down by blood. It is not a reward for birth, nor a prize for survival. A crown is a trust, and trust is only given to those willing to carry its weight.

Chapter 12: The Crown’s Quiet Power

That idea settled over the abbey like still air. It did not need applause. It did not need explanation. Everyone understood. Royal power, the word suggested, is not about being served. It is about service, not about privilege, but about duty, not about celebration, but about endurance. And above all, it is about readiness—readiness to stand steady when history presses in from all sides.

The message landed immediately. Then Princess Anne stepped forward. As always, she brought no softness for show, no dramatic flourish. She did not slow the moment with emotion. She moved with purpose, with the certainty of someone who understands duty not as an idea, but as a lifelong practice.

In her hands was a crown, newly commissioned yet deeply rooted in the past. This was the Queen Consort’s crown, created not to dazzle the eye, but to speak to meaning. Its beauty was quiet. Its value was not in shine, but in story. The stones set into it were not random or newly sourced for spectacle. They came from Queen Elizabeth II’s private collection—gems once worn during decades of service, sacrifice, and constancy. Stones that had seen war, change, grief, joy, and unwavering commitment. In them lived memory. In them lived continuity.

This crown was not shouting a new era. It was carefully threading the past into the present.

Few people knew it, but two versions of this crown existed. One was heavy, formal, and reserved for grand state occasions. It was designed to impress, to reflect ceremony at its fullest scale. It would remain mostly locked away, brought out only when tradition demanded it.

The other crown was different. It was lighter, simpler, and made for moments like this one—moments not about display, but about meaning. Moments where symbolism mattered more than splendor, moments where the weight was not on the head but on the heart.

It was this lighter crown that Princess Anne carried forward, and it was this crown that Catherine wore only briefly, only for a moment. Yet that moment changed everything.

Chapter 13: The Meaning of the Crown

Catherine did not step forward as someone receiving praise. She did not smile in triumph. There was no sense of victory in her posture. Instead, she stood still, composed, and deeply present. Her face reflected calm acceptance, not excitement; grounded, not elevated; solemn, not celebratory.

This was not a moment of being lifted above others. It was a moment of being bound to something larger than herself. The crown rested lightly, but the meaning was heavy.

In that instant, it became clear that this was not about honor. Honors look backward. They reward what has already been done. This was about trust. Trust looks forward. It asks, “Will you carry this? Will you protect it? Will you remain steady when it becomes uncomfortable, lonely, or costly?”

Catherine’s stillness answered without words. She was not being praised for who she was. She was being trusted for who she would need to become.

The crown did not transform her into something new. Instead, it acknowledged something already present—readiness, patience, strength that does not seek attention, a willingness to stand quietly under pressure and continue anyway.

In that brief, almost understated moment, the meaning of modern royalty shifted—not toward glamour, but toward gravity, not toward admiration, but toward accountability.

Chapter 14: The Public’s Response

Was the development resisted by the public? Was it welcomed? What informed their perspective? Let’s dig into the details of the public perception.

When the public recognized leadership before the palace did, the shift didn’t arrive quietly. It burst forward, unmistakable to anyone paying even a little attention, filling the air with a new energy.

At Windsor, everything felt different. William and Catherine no longer resembled figures lingering politely at the edges, waiting for permission to move. Instead, they occupied the center naturally, serene and confident, as if the immense weight of history and duty had already found its place on their shoulders.

No speeches, no dramatic gestures were needed. Their presence alone spoke volumes. In their calm, measured way, they felt like the pulse of the monarchy itself—steady, alive, and quietly commanding the moment.

The streets told the story before any official source could. Thousands gathered, lining the roads hours ahead of time. Some came with flags, others with flowers, many with nothing but their phones and a sense that they were witnessing history as it unfolded.

Handmade signs bobbed above the crowd. Simple words written with care, hope, and affection. Children leaned forward, stretching their arms, clutching folded notes and drawings. Elderly veterans stood quietly, some in uniform, some resting on canes, lips moving in soft prayers meant for no one in particular and for everyone at once.

There was a tenderness to the scene, a feeling that went beyond ceremony. This was not just curiosity. It was recognition.

Chapter 15: Catherine’s Moment

As Catherine moved along the line, meeting eyes, accepting flowers, and listening intently, one voice rose clearly above the rest. A man, perhaps without realizing the weight of what he was saying, called out, “God bless the new queen.”

The words hung in the air. They were not planned. They were not corrected. They came from instinct.

Catherine paused, her expression warm but firm, and answered without hesitation, “God bless the king.” In that brief reply, she showed a sharp understanding of the moment she was standing in. She neither claimed what was not yet formally hers, nor rejected the role the public already saw her stepping into. With one sentence, she affirmed loyalty, order, and continuity while quietly accepting the reality that everyone around her already felt.

Inside the palace, away from the crowds and cameras, every word was measured with care. Aides, advisers, and officials were careful to draw lines. This was not, they said, a regency. It was not a transfer of the crown. It was something more delicate and in some ways more revealing. They called it co-stewardship.

King Charles III, under close medical supervision, had formally handed over the daily responsibilities of the crown. Meetings, briefings, public appearances, and decision-making now flowed through William and Catherine. The machinery of monarchy continued to turn, but different hands were guiding it. Power had shifted. Authority had moved. The titles, however, remained unchanged for now.

 

Chapter 16: The Absence of Camilla

And then there was the absence that everyone noticed. Queen Camilla was not there. Official statements described her absence as a time of private reflection. The words were respectful, neutral, and carefully chosen. But outside palace gates and across living rooms, questions began to form. People noticed who was present, who was visible, and who was not. Silence in moments like these has its own voice.

Online, the response was immediate and overwhelming. Social media platforms filled with images from Windsor, clips of Catherine’s calm interactions, and comments praising her grace and clarity. Polls taken in the days that followed showed levels of public support that were hard to ignore. Across age groups and political lines, approval surged. Many spoke of reassurance. Others spoke of renewal. Some simply said, “This feels right.”

International media outlets searched for a single image to capture what was happening. They found it in a moment that lasted only seconds, but carried years of meaning. As the crown was presented, Catherine bowed to Princess Anne. It was a small, precise gesture, deep with respect, tradition, and understanding.

Anne, long known for her unwavering sense of duty, stood as a living bridge between generations. Catherine’s bow was not submission. It was acknowledgment. It honored the past even as the future quietly stepped forward.

Chapter 17: The Image That Traveled the World

That image traveled faster than any official announcement. It appeared on front pages, television screens, and news feeds around the world. Analysts debated it. Commentators dissected it. But most people understood it instantly, without explanation.

It said what no statement ever could. It showed continuity without denial of change. It showed respect without hesitation. It showed a woman who understood the weight of history and the direction it was already moving.

By then, the shift no longer needed to be explained. The public had already made its decision, not through votes or declarations, but through attention, affection, and trust. They had seen leadership in action. They had felt steadiness in uncertain times. They had recognized instinctively the shape of what was coming next.

Long before crowns changed hands or titles were updated, the transition had already taken place in the collective mind. The monarchy had found its new center and everyone knew it.

Chapter 18: The Silent Restructuring

What confirmed the rumors about the power shift in the monarchy? Was there a sign that was visible to those outside the palace? How did the news leak? Let’s find out.

While the nation paused, observing every gesture, every carefully staged moment, trying to read hidden messages, a very real transformation quietly unfolded behind the palace walls. The people studied appearances, assigning meaning to each smile, each bow, each word spoken. Yet inside, the palace was alive with action, with change that was tangible and deliberate.

What seemed like mere symbolism to the outside world was in reality a carefully orchestrated plan—practical, purposeful, and quietly reshaping everything from within.

Quietly, reporting lines shifted. Long-established routines were adjusted. Communication teams were reassigned, not with noise or explanation, but with precision. Staff who had once taken their direction from Clarence House now answered to Kensington Palace.

Officially, these moves were framed as temporary, simple rearrangements to ease workloads or improve coordination. Unofficially, everyone who mattered understood that this was not a pause. It was a foundation being laid. This was not cosmetic. It was structural.

The difference lay in intent. Temporary changes are meant to be reversed. Structural ones are designed to last. And those inside the system could feel the weight of permanence settling in. Power was not being taken. It was being placed carefully, deliberately, and without drama.

Chapter 19: Princess Anne’s Role

At the heart of this shift stood Princess Anne. Anne has never relied on spectacle. Her authority does not come from softness or performance, but from clarity, discipline, and an unshakable sense of duty. When she moved, she did so with purpose. And when she acted during this period, her actions carried instruction, not ceremony.

Her public affirmation of Catherine was not merely supportive. It was decisive. In royal life, public signals matter. Who stands beside whom? Who is acknowledged and who is trusted? These things speak louder than statements. By affirming Catherine openly, Anne anchored authority exactly where responsibility had already settled. She did not create power. She confirmed it.

It was a moment of alignment. Duty, competence, and recognition met in the same place.

King Charles, for his part, did not push back. He did not question the changes or slow them down. Instead, he approved them calmly, almost with relief. Those close to him say there was no sense of loss in his response, only acceptance.

At one point, Anne is reported to have said to him, “You can rest. They’re ready.” It was a simple sentence, but it moved through royal circles like quiet thunder. Not loud, not dramatic, but impossible to ignore. It suggested that the burden he had carried for decades preparing the next generation had reached its natural conclusion. Readiness had arrived.

Chapter 20: The Work Begins

From that point on, the tone changed. Catherine’s public schedule did not suddenly become grander. There were no bold declarations, no announcements of expanded authority, no carefully staged moments designed to draw attention.

Instead, there was work—steady, visible, purposeful work. She appeared where young people were being shaped: schools, training centers, youth programs. She engaged with education not as a theme but as a responsibility. She stepped into diplomatic spaces with calm assurance, listening more than speaking, present without dominance.

And wherever compassion was needed—hospitals, charities, families under strain—she showed up consistently. This was leadership without display: no pageantry, no unnecessary spectacle, just presence, preparation, and follow-through. The kind of leadership that does not ask to be noticed but becomes impossible to overlook.

At the same time, Camilla, queen by title, began to recede. There was no scandal, no announcement, no visible conflict. She simply appeared less often, fewer engagements, less visibility. Her role narrowed quietly, as roles sometimes do when history begins to move in a new direction.

Catherine, by contrast, became increasingly visible—not everywhere, but where it mattered most, where service carried weight, where the monarchy touched real lives, where listening, empathy, and steadiness were required more than ceremony.

Chapter 21: The Meaning of Presence

In this contrast, something important became clear. Titles can be given. Presence must be earned. Camilla held the crown in name. Catherine carried its meaning in action. And people noticed—not because they were told to, but because the pattern repeated itself too often to ignore.

Inside the palace, there was no sense of waiting anymore. No language of “when the time comes” or “in the future.” The transition was not being anticipated. It was being lived. Authority was already operating in its next shape. Even if tradition required patience in its formal recognition, this is how enduring institutions survive—not through sudden breaks, but through quiet evolution, not through announcements, but through alignment.

The monarchy did not pause to prepare for what was next. It allowed what was next to begin. And so, while the nation continued to interpret symbols, the palace continued to act on reality. The future did not arrive with a trumpet blast. It arrived with schedules, meetings, trust, and work. The monarchy was no longer standing on the edge of transition. It had stepped into it and was already moving forward.

Chapter 22: The Quiet Revolution

So, what do you think about William and Catherine taking hold of power? Britain’s quiet revolution is underway—not with noise, but with purpose. Not with spectacle, but with substance. Not with declarations, but with trust.

We would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. Don’t forget to like and subscribe.