Twenty-One and Way Older

Chapter 1

The night is still young when Harry awoke to a throbbing headache. The curtains were swaying to the gentle breeze that spilled inside. The cause of his sudden disturbance being that little blond twat, who insisted on practicing his guitar at this ungodly hour of the night. Every night before a concert was the same. Niall was either nervous or couldn’t sleep so he would strum away broken melodies.

And Harry always got the room next to Niall’s. He should have known, Liam intentionally takes up room allotting duties.

Pouring himself a glass of water and swallowing a paracetamol which he keeps handy for his tour months, along with a constant supply of headbands and banana’s. Harry falls back on his king size bed ,limbs outstretched and trying to block out the noises. Clashing against a package, a sharp pain shoots through his veins. Rubbing his elbow, he picks up the estranged package from beside him. How had he not noticed that before?

“What the hell are you doing here?” he questions while inspecting the unresponsive piece of wrapped paper. He carefully opens it, hoping it’s not some bomb or anything similarly dangerous. A golden hand carved box comes into view. Maybe it was a fan’s gift which he left lying around. Gasping at the exquisite detail he assumes it must have cost lots. He picks up the wrapper and searches for the name of the giver. One Chance, it reads. That’s weird. Why write something cryptic if you don’t want to write your name? some people are just unique.

Tracing his fingers along the lid he slowly lifts it up, revealing a piece of metal pivoted around another. Meaning it could be rotated. Shocking enough, there are 3 of those rotary knobs.

On the circumference it says year, the other month and the last one day.

Do you put in your birthday or something? Where was the manual to this?

He shuffles around for any book or paper, nothing is found. Then his eyes fall on the engravings on the upper surface of the lid. It wasn’t a design, it was calligraphic alphabets. Stringing in all the words together in his head, he whispers aloud : Relive one day from the past or one day from the future.

He can’t believe that rubbish. This is just a piece of fancy crap. He should probably get some sleep for tomorrow’s concert. Shaking his head back to reality, he climbs on the bed and sets the box on the nightstand. He could have sworn he hadn’t seen it before in his hotel room.

Shutting his eyes he utters his routine : goodnight Lou into the dark and wishing the breeze carries it to Louis upstairs.

Just then, a idea manifests itself in his head. Something which would seem unattainable in reality, something Harry had only dreamed and prayed over. Shooting up quickly and throwing the duvet on the floor, he snaps open the box.

 What is he even thinking? This is absolute rubbish. But it’s a chance, a chance to be with Louis. To know how it feels, even if it’s so so wrong. Hope blossoms in his chest, all his fantasies might actually happen.

Who is he kidding? God, Harry, what are you five? Go believe in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy next!

Reluctantly he pushes the knobs anyway. Its worth a try. He won’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work.

But the question is past or future? He’s confused shitless. An adorable, funny, loud Louis Tomlinson or an older, manly, mature version of Louis Tomlinson. Both are tempting in their own way.

What if in the future Louis is happily married to Eleanor? That would be heartbreaking to see. Past Louis on the other hand would still be single and Harry could undo all the mistakes he made and tell him how he truly feels before El came into the picture, maybe they could be together then.  One day, though. He can’t change his life’s course in one fucking day.