The X-Factor Experience | L.S

Five: September

Birds chirping, cool wind blowing, leaves gently swishing and being surrounded by deep forest and lakes. Harry could easily get used to this. He carefully stepped out of the bus and into the raw night.

Somewhere along the ride, all the contestants had gotten quiet. In the last couple hours, snoring was the only sound that could be heard in the bus. Of course Harry had hardly gotten any sleep himself, constantly shifting in the uncomfortable seat while being forced to listen to Lucas talk in his sleep.

He inhaled the night and smiled, swaying on his feet. He could barely keep those eyes opened.

"Listen up," Cheryl said, emerging from one of the other busses. "We know you're all very tired, but please try to remember the following information."

Harry was pretty sure Lucas was asleep even though he was standing up. He nudged him, making the other boy jump up in surprise. Harry couldn't help but laugh a little.

"As soon as the information has been given, you will be given a key to your cottage, which you'll be sharing with your bootcamp group. You should probably consider going to sleep as soon as possible - tomorrow, 6AM, we expect to see you by the busses where we eat breakfast. If you want time to get ready for the day, wake up earlier. After breakfast, vocal coaching starts. After that you'll get time to rehearse with your group..."

Harry zoned out as Cheryl rambled on with all the important information. Keeping himself from giving in and just falling asleep right there on the grass, where, to his fear, there were probably crawling with spiders and insects and fatal snakes, was a task too hard to handle. He begged of Cheryl to just finish with the informations and stick him a key. Nobody could possibly be awake enough to actually process the words she was shouting anyway.

Seriously, how was that woman even capable?

"... and then after 6PM, you get time to do whatever you want," she finished off. Then she fished out a mini notebook from her pocket. "And now for your keys... I want to see Lucas, Anastacia, Rachel and George up here."

A tired bunch of teens practically sleep walked up to fetch their keys from Cheryl. Then they were guided to their cottage by a colleague. Harry had never been so jealous.

This could take a while. He put down his duffel bag and sat his ass on it, resting his chin in his hands with droopy eyes.

"Ronja, Stuart and Harry," Cheryl called out literally right when he'd sat down and my God was this typical. Harry got up and walked up to Cheryl with his group. They got a key each and then some guy followed them to their cottage.

"Wow, this is actually better than what I'd expected," Ronja said, stepping inside. Harry nodded. The place wasn't big at all, but the furniture also weren't all crammed together in some tiny space. It was nice. There were three warm looking beds, two desks, a bathroom and a trash can. The lamp hanging from the ceiling gave the cottage a warm, cozy vibe.

Harry walked over to the bed against the left wall and placed his duffel bag. Then he went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

He was woken up to someone calling his name. He slowly let his eyes adjust to the light and sat up. Stuart was standing above him.

"It's almost 6AM. You probably wanna get ready for the day," Stuart said and walked away.

"Thanks," Harry said to no one in particular. He spent about ten minutes getting ready before heading outside to the busses where everyone was gathered on the grass, eating.

He grabbed a bottle of water and some pre-made sandwich and went over to join the others. He realised that he still hadn't made it any friends yet, and he was getting kind of lonely seeing the people in his category chatting like old friends. He took a deep breath and collected his guts.

"Can I sit here?" He asked a group of guys. It was like high school all over again. They looked like they ranged from eighteen to twenty years in age.

"Sure," a dark haired boy said around a bite, patting the empty spot next to him. Harry sat down and took the tinfoil off of his sandwich. He took a bite, but immediately spat it out.

"I'm assuming you got the mayonnaise sandwich," another boy said, biting back a chuckle.

Harry didn't answer, too busy cleaning his tongue out with his fingers. That sandwich was creamier than his Nana's creamy custard cake.

"Bad start to the day, huh?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, sorry about the... reverse sandwich action, um."

"Don't worry about it, man. I'm just happy it wasn't me," a third boy said sympathetically. "That must've been disgusting, man. I'd offer you my sandwich, but uh, I already ate it."

"So what's your name?"

"It's Harry. What are yours?"

"My name's Ted." Ted then listed about ten names that Harry was not even going to try to remember.

"Hey, when we get free time, d'you wanna come with us?"

Harry gave a smile. "Yeah I'd love to. Where are we going?"

"Just to take a look around. Maybe explore that forest."

Harry was about to tell him how cool that sounded, but then there was a call from Louis telling us how the vocal coaching was going to work and in which order.

After two exhausting hours, Harry was finally done being coached and was left with a sore voice. He massaged his throat as he walked back to the cottage to rehearse with Ronja and Stuart.

"Shall we?"

They rehearsed the song about ten times before calling it a day.

"My fingers," Stuart cried and showed Ronja his fingers. They were all bloody and blistered from the guitar stringing.

Harry sighed. He missed Niall. He missed laughing. There wasn't much laughing with these people - no offense. If he had cell service, he would've called him long ago.

Dinner wasn't for another half hour, so Harry decided to step out of the cottage to go for a walk. He didn't know if that was even allowed, but oh well. He would just have to take the long way out of the camp to make sure no one saw him.

It was refreshing to finally be alone. Harry couldn't help it - he was strictly an introvert. He needed his space. He walked for probably a little more than half an hour. It was just addictive.

However, walking barefooted probably wasn't one of the best decisions Harry had made (no matter how good it felt when the grass tickled him between his toes) because he stepped on something sharp.

"Ow!" He cried and lifted his foot to get a close look at what he'd stepped on. To his horror, blood was pouring out of the wound. His face became pallid.

"Harry?" Said a voice behind him. It was Louis' concerned voice. Harry turned around, mortified, still holding his big toe between his fingers.

Louis' glanced down and noticed the gash in Harry's foot. "What the fuck? Are you walking barefooted?"

Harry nodded.

"That's like, the number one rule not to do in high grass," Louis remarked, moving closer to the injured boy.

"So I'm learning," Harry shakily said. Then he winced.

"We need to get that rinsed," Louis said in determination. Harry was about to sink his foot onto the grass again.

"Stop that. Don't let your foot come in contact with the grass."

"Well, how am I supposed to walk back? I'm not a flamingo, you know..." Harry murmured through gritted teeth.

Louis looked like he wanted to laugh, but he didn't. He brought an arm around Harry to support him. "Hold on to me," he ordered, and Harry obliged, snaking his left arm around Louis' shoulder. If the pain wasn't so moderate, and it didn't feel like someone was constantly stabbing his foot with a dagger, Harry totally would've found this situation to be dreamy.