Turquoise (L.S)

VII

The moment had finally arrived. Today would be the day that Louis moved into his new home for (hopefully) the next few months. To say he was nervous would be the understatement of the century. The past few days had consisted of mad packing, sleepless nights and constant overthinking. He could not get the interaction with Harry out of his head and he was not looking forward to seeing the star again. He wondered if Harry had dealt with similar, overwhelming and crushing feelings of guilt in his stomach. Guilt that consumed every thought and action, guilt that caused him to almost quit.

Probably Not.

Louis had the sense that most things did not affect Harry. He seemed a little psychotic in some ways, and definitely crazy.

Crazy, drugged up and happy to share spit and other things with Louis. What could go wrong?

Louis was pulled from his overly imaginative thoughts by Ashe who was seated next to him on the coach. The other contestants had refused to sit near them, both needing 'absolute zen'. Bullshit is what Louis made of their performative stunts, but kept his mouth shut.

"Look," She gasped, quietly. Her eyes were wide and entranced by the sight in front of her. Louis turned and followed her eye-line.

Nestled deep in the cold countryside was a beautiful Tudor-inspired stately home surrounded by immaculate formal gardens. The home was a red brick with off-white gables that featured exposed dark wood, contrasting the brightness of the fresh paint. Several plant- dotted balconies were visible and large rectangle windows reflected the grey sky. Huge, decadent French doors were the focal point of the property and a welcoming light shone from the oval window just above them. The house would not look out of place in a period drama or film.

Louis had had a lot of expectations for what Harry's house was going to look like. He'd imagined a large, modern, ugly build that felt cold and unwelcoming. This manor was anything but cold. It seemed to shine in the dullness of its surroundings and possessed its own personality.

Ashe squealed slightly and squeezed his hand. He chuckled at her child-like eagerness, but could not help his own excitement. This house was definitely big enough to avoid the crazy rockstar.

As the coach moved closer, Louis began to make out more details. The drive finished in front of the door and spread wide, circling an ornate fish fountain. The sculpture looked comical and Louis chuckled at the cartoonish expression carved onto the poor fish's face. He looked almost crosseyed and shocked as water poured out of his mouth. He wondered if it had been done for comedic purposes, or if it was 'art' he did not understand. He suspected the latter.

Two beautiful classic cars were parked just outside of the door. The first was a 1960s Mercedes Benz in pristine condition. It was a bright white classy convertible and somehow seemed to slot perfectly into the feel of the home. Louis pictured himself inside the vehicle with the roof down and The Rolling Stones blasting through the speakers as he weaved through country lanes on a hot summer's day. The car emulated nostalgia and he fought the urge to jump out of the coach and take a closer look. Louis was not a car person, but something about this vehicle felt homely.

Beside the flashy and retro Mercedes was a glamorous red Jaguar E-type that was straight out of a classic bond film. It oozed cool and eccentricity.

Louis had pictured Harry with flashy modern sporty cars, but this red Jaguar made so much sense. She was the rockstar down to a T. She grabbed attention and screamed for you to look at her. Something about her shouted "I'm cocky and arrogant". Perfect for Mr Styles.

Having been so preoccupied by the two classic cars, Louis had failed to notice that the coach had actually pulled up and his other competitors were spilling out, looking just as excited as him. Quickly shaking his head, Louis managed to get his bearings and climbed out of the cramped and stuffy bus. Once on the ground, he could truly take the building in. It really was breathtaking. Almost as breathtaking as the man who pushed open the large French doors and exited the house with undeniable swagger.