California Sold

Chapter 1

In this very significant moment, or rather insignificant if you will, Louis is standing in line at McDonald's. It's five AM, and he's in a line. At five AM. Why are people even up at this ungodly hour? Fucking hell.

To be fair, it is a Monday morning, but still. He's not in the mood for waiting in line. As a matter of fact, waiting in a line is the last thing he wants to do. He is hung over, his hoodie smells like smoke and beer, and he's concurrently deprived of both sleep and coffee.

The line moves forward at a snail's pace. Louis is both grateful and annoyed. Moving too fast makes his head spin, yet he has to be back in Manchester at eight o'clock. Seeing as he's in London, after spending a weekend indulging in indecent activities, he's got about three hours to make it back home to shower and get to work.

He parted ways with Stan, Luke, and Cass somewhere on Leicester Square, then managed to find his way via the tube to Euston, where it took him fifteen minutes to find a direct train that would bring him back to Manchester where he starts his last week of subbing as a Drama-English teacher at a local school. He very well knows that he should have caught a train last night instead of deciding to give a go at Sunday night clubbing, but he is a twenty-four year old man who is supposed to be making poor decisions. He is not an official adult-adult until he is twenty-five, and has a permanent job in his field. He's still got six months and a proper job to go.

The line moves forward a pace. As in one. His train leaves in seven minutes and forty seconds. Another pace. Only three more customers in front of him. The woman currently being rung up at the till is taking forever giving her order. Bitch. Who needs four coffees when they look like someone who pops five energising pills per hour?

Louis can't miss this train.

This is one of the astonishingly few moments he wishes he had decided to come with his best friend to the X Factor auditions all those years ago. If he had done as well as Harry did on the talent show, he probably wouldn't have had to wait in this line. Then again, he probably wouldn't be in this line to begin with. He'd be in Los Angeles, cranking it up with overrated cool people. Although, he did just crank it up with pretty cool people here in London anyway. Plus, through Harry he knows life of a celebrity isn't all that incredible. Actually, it seems to pretty much suck, apart from the bump in status that gives the perks of course. Then again, one could most likely receive those perks if they had the money.

It's all about being rich, it seems.

Louis is never going to be rich. Teacher salaries are, at best, average. Regardless, he decided to study for three years to become one, and has yet to find a permanent position since he graduated. He did take a few months to travel, but it has been two years. He is waiting, and religiously praying, for that old man at the local college to retire so he can snatch the Drama-English position, and thus being able to work near his flat and in a close proximity to where his family lives.

The line moves along, and Louis can finally order four minutes before his train is leaving. From there he spurts through the station, paper bag with the burger and chips in one hand, and the cup of coke in the other. He manages not to spill as he swerves through crowds of people on the platform, and literally jumps onto the train seconds before the door closes. He is nothing if not scrappy.

He finds a seat, and once the train starts moving he eats a well-earned breakfast, sending off a text to Stan, proclaiming himself a right champ for assuring he'll make it back to Manchester on time. When he is entirely stuffed with his 5AM meal, he pulls up his hoodie and props his feet on the seat next to his, taking advantage of the few hours ahead of him to get some rest before he has to work.

The sun has almost risen completely when he gets off the train. He blinks groggily, rubbing his sore neck. He takes the shuttle home, reminding himself his card is almost out of money, and makes it home to the flat in under seven minutes. It's fifteen until class is supposed to start.