Opposite Directions (a One Direction fan fiction)

Opposite Directions

I really don’t belong here, do I?

            She looked around the expansive mansion, her eyes soaking up its intricate details. The high ceilings, the marble countertops, the waxed wooden floors. The Dining room table was made of glass, the chairs plush white clouds of comfort. A fireplace of perfectly placed stones was the centerpiece of the living room, a flickering fire emanating warmth from its center. The sofas were the same white clouds of comfort as the chairs at the dining room table. The backside of the house was all plated glass that revealed a wonderful view of a calm cobalt blue lake. The Pines and Maples reached their boughs towards the periwinkle blue sky and created a barrier of privacy around the lush perfectly mown backyard. The back porch was cherry wood and hugged the back of the house from side to side, a large wooden staircase leading down into the backyard. A stone walkway marked the path to the manmade private beach at the edge of the lake, soft white foam mixing with white sand. A boat dock attached land to water, and a glistening rowboat bobbed up and down in the water next to it, tied to one of its beams so it wouldn’t float away. Out past the dock and the beach and farther into the lake was a floating dock with a ladder so that swimmers can adventure to it and jump off of it, or tan, or make love under the stars with the waves rocking the dock below them.

            Currently the house was empty, save for herself, the caterers, and her publicist. Finger foods like shrimp cocktail and mini quiches adorned the marble counter tops. A Champagne fountain was all set up and ready to go on the kitchens island counter in the center. On that same island counter top was a chocolate fountain with bowls of kiwis, strawberries, watermelon, and other berries surrounding it.  The caterers were hard at work, setting up their silver trays with filled wine and champagne glasses and appetizers free for the guests to take. No guests had arrived yet, so the mansion was quiet save for the sound of clinking silver and the mumblings of men and women in white and black serving clothes.

            Caroline sighed. She felt uncomfortable. Yes, the house was beautiful, but what had she done to get here? The mansion wasn’t hers of course; it was rented for this get together that her publicist was making her host. It was to be a celebration of her nomination for a Nebula Award. One of her science fiction short stories had caught the eye of someone of importance, and she became a nominee. She knew it was an honor, but she also knew that she wasn’t anywhere near a big enough name to be throwing this sort of extravagant party. She sucked at networking and knew no celebrities. But that go-getter publicist of hers assured her that people with names, people that were not invisible like she was, would show up, and that would get her noticed, at least a little bit. She decided to find her publicist and have a little chat.

            She found him sitting on the back porch, his eyes closed and the breeze lightly blowing his salt and pepper hair around his face. He waved a cigar around in his hands as if he was singing a tune in his head. The suit he wore was black and sleek and perfectly tailored, his face clean shaven and younger looking than his hair would make one assume. Caroline walked over to him and sat down in the chair next to his.

“Sal? Can we talk?” she asked in a low voice. This man still intimidated her.

            Sal opened his eyes and looked at Caroline, smiling a million dollar smile of perfect pearly whites and his blue eyes glittering with glee. He situated himself into a proper position, puffed his cigar allowing for the thick tendrils of smoke to caress his rugged yet handsome face, and then he spoke.

“Of course my Caroline, what’s bothering you?” When he talked it made Caroline think of the devil. His voice was rough like a gravel road and deeper than the ocean.

“I’m uncomfortable here. No one has even arrived and I’m so anxious. I just want to be home. Back in Western Massachusetts. This Hollywood scene isn’t for me.”