In the British Rain (A Harry Styles Short Story)

Chapter One

 “Well, you sure did pick a good time to visit London,” the women joked as she handed me my hotel key, “I think they said earlier that this is the most rain fall we’ve had in years.”

             “Lucky me,” I replied, running a hand through my damp hair. I’d waited years to visit England, and when I came I was greeted by rain that made my umbrella collapse into itself. I slipped the hotel card into my pocket and took a breath as I let my hand slip around my luggage.

            “It’s not all that bad,” the man replied, and I raised an eyebrow, “there are quite a few lovely indoor attractions that this city has to offer.” I nodded solemnly and walked over to the elevators where a couple was currently whispering things into each others ears, only making the fact I was on vacation alone haunt me further. I was alone on my visit, and although I wasn’t in Paris or a romantic Carribean getaway, but still, it’s pretty depressing when you’re in England all alone.

            “Excuse me,” I muttered, slipping into the side of elevator, past the couple, and pressing the little button that would lead me to the second floor. “Sorry,” I blurted, when my duffel crashed against their bags, causing them to fall onto the ground. All I could do was make an awkward noise as I dropped down into a crouch and picked it up for them. Then all they could do in return was nod and face each other, speaking that language some couples had with their expressions.

            I let my gaze travel to the metal door, waiting for it to make that clinging noise, signaling that I had reached my floor. When it finally came, followed by the parting of the doors I practically ran to get out; get away from the couple that was making me rather uncomfortable.

            “Room 13,” I thought out loud, looking at the room number in front of me, and using it to direct me to where I’d be spending my time these next few weeks. “Room 10,” I muttered, my fabric bag brushing against the slightly horrifying, yellowing carpet. “And finally,” I murmured, barely audible as I let my luggage fall into the crook of my elbow, “my room.”

            When I first opened the room I didn’t think it was that bad. It had a small bathroom directly to the left, a modest TV on a cabinet directly across from the bed, and a nice window, giving me a view of the bustling street. From the moment I sat down on the bed, the mattress sinking in deep, I rethought things. The TV had a light film of a mystery substance on it, and the window was nice, but the sound radiating from it was anything but.

            The rain was pounding against the window, making hearing my own thoughts nearly impossible. I thought the cab ride was bad, but appartently the hotel room walls were paper-thin. The only thing I could think was the want to hear something other than rainfall. My hand groped around the side table for a remote, and when I found it, my thumb pressed down on the little red button, turning the TV on with a hum.

            “-And this is a record for The Greater London Area,” the reporter said under her little umbrella, all of the rain dropping around her in splashes. “In the month of June London has never had continuous rain like this,” she announced as the rain fell against the camera, making it hard to see the perky brunette. “It’s been a week since it’s first started raining, and there hasn’t been a break in the weather yet,” she said, and I furrowed my eyebrows. Even a television couldn’t get me away from the rain. “But don’t let this rain on your parade,” she added, a slightly annoying chuckle coming from her mouth, “Carina will be telling you about upcoming events in London this week; back to you Car-“

            With a huff I changed the channel, and suddenly I was watching some car show, which had obviously been filmed a while back since the test track was completely dry. The grass was green and the sun was shining with no clouds or water to block its might. As my eyes traveled to the window I felt as if that picture on the screen would be my only view of a sunny London, which was actually quite depressing; I’d traveled to England and the only nice British weather I may have is being shone on a grimy screen.

            “When you get to London be sure to call me,” my sister Ali had said. I doubted that I would do that now though. She’d ask how amazing everything was, and I’d have to say something witty that was completely untrue. Then she’d feel superior to me, and I’d feel even more like a failure at planning trips.

            I’d call her once I had done something newsworthy, or found something nice. This new thought in my head like a motto I moved over to the cabinet under the TV. I was right in my thoughts that a mini-fridge took shelter in the low-grade wood, and when I opened it and looked at the small selection of snacks and drinks, my thought lead back to the previous.

            I was debating whether or not some good Cadbury chocolate having been stocked in my room was interesting enough.

            This was going to be a long trip.

Authors Note ~ Le preview. Tell me what you think! And I you know even though this is coming soon I shall update this every once in a while because I have problems holding back my imagination … oh well, sorry for this awkward run on sentence. And remember my lovelies, this is fiction and I’m not very up to date on the record rainfall in London in the summer month of June so sorry for any inaccuracy.

 

And let’s say this comes out in April … on my birthday :) Although I know there will be a ton of updates between now and then.

 

<3

Luce