the summer i turned beautiful [l.t]

Chapter 7 -- Fairytales

A/N: Hey guys! I want to say a big thank you for you guys reading my fanfic! It means so much! I have many chapters on hold! I hope you enjoy my fanfic! I love you!! --Shirls

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I don’t even know why I agreed to this. Apparently, one of his bodyguards had a car waiting for him in the belowground parking lot. The bodyguard quickly got out of the car and left the door open for Louis and me.

“Wait, why are you driving?”

“I like having to drive and plus I am always on a bus. I need to practice driving sometime.”

Oh. That’s weird. I thought all celebrities have people that drive them places. Or have a LIMO pick them up. But instead he was driving a mini copper. My dream car. Well, at least he has good taste.

“Practice? You mean you never drove before?”

“I had, but I failed my international driver’s license, so I couldn’t drive in America.”

“Hmm. That happened to me too. My 18th birthday was a few days ago and I failed my international drivers license the week before. And nice taste in cars. So when are you taking me home?”

“After I perform at my gig. I already missed sound-check. And thanks my Mum bought me it after our album hit #1 in America.”

“How long will it take? And most importantly, where is your gig? I really need to get back. Yeah, every girl in my school had a album.”

“Roughly about 3 hours and at the palace.” He sighed and did a quick chuckle.

“You mean BUCKINGHAM PALACE, like the with the Queen of England!?!”

“Uh, yeah,” he looked confused.

“Nuh-uh. So not happening. Drive me back to my hotel right now, Louis!”

“Babe, you know London’s a big city right? And a big city with a hot boy band, cough cough One Direction means twice the amount of paparazzi, get it?”

“Not really…How does that connect to my problem?”

He let out a loud sigh. “The sad thing is that this car does not have tinted windows. Whoever sees me, will tell their friends, and a so on. Until the paparazzi finds out and I’m screwed,” he looked at me, “And judging by your face, you don’t want to photographed, or being asked questions.”

“What do you mean, questions,” I asked.

“Like the usual. If you see a celebrity and a girl together. In a car. Dropping you off. What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

He opened his eyes a bit wider and it hit me.