Hoodie Allen- The Tour Of Your life

Chapter 5- The Things You Can Buy With Money

I pulled up to Marvels house, and my expression; astonished. I just realized that I pulled up to what I view to be a mansion apartment, or apartment mansion... whatever you call it, it's huge.

I get out of my car, not taking my eyes off of this place. I step onto the side walk, outlined with grey stones, sparkling from the shined lights directed towards the walls of the home. The bushes look like a plant version of ambrosia salad and I'm scared to admit that I could just eat them. Is that weird?

I step onto the raised front desk, with columns painted white and at the top of them consists carved flowers and ancient symobls, directing towards warriors. I rink the lit up door bell, and immediately the door opens, allowing me to see what was inside of this fantasy.

"Finally," Marvel complained. "She's here!" He yelled as he turned his head to the side, directing towards the elegantly long staircase, with majestic dark purple carpet. I looked to the left of Marvel, as I walked in, and took my vans off.

I gazed up above, nearly falling over at the sight of a hugemungous (yes I'm using that word) chandelier that sparkled above us. "Holy shit." I stated, and I mentally drooled as I caught a glimpse of the kitchen.

But I was stopped in my tracks as Marvel gripped the middle of my upper arm tightly, pulling me so fastly upstair, I almost fell from not being able to keep my feel under me.

"This is your house?" I asked in disbelief. I was almost considering that Marvel just broke into someone's house and claimed that it was his.

"Yup. You can stay in here, since you're technically homeless." Marvel led me into a dark room, smacking his hand against the wall at a light switch, which allowed me to see the magnificent room that looked like the home designer had the taste of Gatsby.

"T-thanks..." I stuttered as I opened the bathroom door. "Where'd you find the money for this?!" I asked.

What if Marvel's a bank robber? What if he's a scammer? That would not be good. "Inheritance." He sharply stated.

"From who?" I asked, leaning out into the hallway, looking side to side. I heard a shower stop, and walked back into my temporary room, realizing that it's probably Steven.

"My parents." He explained to me as he made the bed, and I opposed him and helped him. "They died in a fire when I was five." He added like it was nothing. But then it all clicked. This was why Marvel was so open, why he was so comfortable. Because he needs people. Metaphorically to replace his parents. I felt bad, thinking about it that way. But it did make sense.

"I'm sorry." I told him, feeling like that was the only thing I could say back.

"Oh, no its fine." Marvel fluffed a pillow, and I mirrored. "It was 21 years ago."

"Oh... well that must've been horrible.", I didn't want to be too gruesome with how bad he had it.

"Eh, I hardly remember it. So it's kind of good in a way that it happened while I was young." He started fiddling with the dazzled comforter, and I could tell he was uneasy about the topic. But there was a little truth to his statement.

"Wh-"

"Hey Marvel." A voice came from the door, I turned and it was Steven. Standing there, with nothing but a towel on. I could help myself but check him out hard to toe, looking at the carpet in guilt. "Dena." He said.

"Hey." I smiled, looking into his eyes and then down at the floor again, making sure I didn't check him out. Again.

"So.." Steven started saying, meanwhile drying his hair with a towel in his hand. "Tomorrow I have a meeting with Winston at Lodestar International Tour agency, Wanna come with?" He asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Sure." Marvel answered, now laying on the bed, petting the comforter.

"Dena?" Steven asked.

"Me?" I questioned, surprised that Hoodie Allen was talking directly towards me

He chuckled, and nodded, "Yeah." The question still out there.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." I replied nervously. Ugh, just be normal Dena.

"Cool." He said, not awkwardly at all.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Marvel asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

"We could go to Gordam Ramsey at The London..." Steven said grinning.

"Oh my god. I've heard that place is to die for." My eyes opened wide as soon as I heard the words come out of his mouth.

"You wanna go?" Steven confirmed. But there was no reason to.

"Yes!" I exclaimed.

"I hope they have French food there." Marvel wished, brattiness showing through his body language.

"Don't set your hopes too high.." Hoodie advised.

"Whatever, go get some clothes on." Marvel fussed, throwing a pillow at Steven's stomach, but Steven caught it, throwing it back at Marvel. He must've thrown it short, because the pillow plopped me in the face, falling onto the floor in front of me.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Steven apologized, taking a step towards me. I reached down to pick up the pillow and a grin appeared on my face, Steven held his hand up, saying, "No no no no no. I said I'm sorry alright." And I threw the pillow at the back of his head. And he just stood there. "That was uncalled for." He started laughing.

"Put some pants on." I reinforced Marvels command, and he walked into his room, flashing me a smile before he shut the door.

I walked back into the elegant room I was to stay in and started talking to Marvel about Paris, and all the magical assumptions they called food over in Europe.

The place Marvel lived in was rather enchanting, and I felt like I was in a whole other world.