LUNÈ ARGENT [L.S]

TWO

Louis awakes when the sun is climbing the grand precipice of the Earth, it's golden glow consuming the once strong glimmer of the moon that shone just hours ago.
Louis opens his minimally rested eyes, pupils shrinking in response to the harsh spring light. There was no clock in here or anything, but from study of the sky Louis assumed it was around seven in the morning. He could easily sleep in- obtain more than three hours of sleep total- but Louis felt such a desirable urge to further explore this new place he had been thrown into last night. It felt like a dream- being whisked into an unknown world full of a strong Parisian perfume and the thrilled yells and exclamations of excited young actors rehearsing for what they believe will be their big break.

Already, Louis could smell that distinct, harsh stench of whatever perfume keeps reoccurring in this city. A pungent scent of flowers and honey, and definitely mint- so strong it threatens to singe your nose hairs. Additionally, there was an aggressive smell of incense or some sort of burning. It was familiarising Louis quickly of the type of people he was going to run into here.

Getting up from his new bed, Louis gets a glance of that wondrous place he fell asleep thinking about.
Lunè Argent.
In the new daylight, the strobing silver and red lights of the building had been shut off, leaving a clear but unlit outline of those grand letters and massive moon statue. It was just so enticing, captivating, fascinating. A sudden leap occurred in Louis' stomach as he thought about what wonders laid behind those towering gates.

Until tonight, he thinks, when he sees what's behind the doors of the Lunè Argent.

Entering what Louis assumed was the main room, having followed the noise to find his way, Louis is immediately greeted by Niall Horan, the man who inducted him into this whole thing.

"Louis, newbie! How are you this morning?" He's grinning as he slaps Louis on the back and guides him over to a green velvet sofa, layered in crochet blankets and tasseled cushions. "Hope the can-can didn't keep you awake."

"The can-can?" Louis questions. "Didn't hear such a thing."

"Lucky you, they're always loudest first thing in the morning. 4am, you know."

"Who? The Lunè Argent?" Louis could only assume.

"Of course! The Lunè Argent is full of can-can, full of burlesque, full of art." Niall enunciates with his hands, pure admiration for this place embedded in his skin. "You're gonna love it, Louis. Seems up your ally."

"You barley know me." Louis rolls his eyes yet his lips deceive him, quirking up ever so slightly in amusement.

"I know you enough. You got acting chops. Passion. Pizzazz."

"Pizzazz?"

"Yes. Pizzazz. You know pizzazz."

The word pizzazz has been used way too many times as of now.

"Well, who knows," Louis slaps his knees and stands up, an abysmally British mannerism of him to do (who can blame him? He'll never leave his roots behind, despite being in this Parisian mess), and heads for the door. He needs a shower.

"Luné Argent could be the worst thing that will ever happen to me."

He shrugs and leaves the room in search of running water, leaving Niall and many dynamic faces grinning in his wake.

—

It's 11pm and Louis is in a mass flush of excitement, whiskey and overpriced perfume.

He's currently standing before an unnecessarily long chain of vanities and stage mirrors, all elaborately lit up by red fairy lights and candles that reek of lavender, cashmere and intoxicating air- just like that very overused perfume Louis simply cannot escape. He's surrounded by an overwhelming amount of bodies and a plentiful number of girls with perfect teeth and silky hair that are certainly intrigued by his new presence here with the Bohemians.