Summer » L.T

Every summer, Emma and her family go on a family vacation. Last year, it was to New York. The year before that, was Australia. This year... is London, England. What was supposed to be just another ordinary summer escalates when Emma and her cousin go out partying, not knowing One Direction are in the same club, celebrating their time off.

People fall, hearts break, what happens when Emma needs to head back home to Canada?


3. chapter 2

As I re-apply my make-up, I hear my cousin, Heather, yelling from down stairs.


"Are you ready yet?" I yell back a 'yes' before grabbing my purse. Heather and Isabelle are waiting down stairs in the living room. I walk to the doorway and spin around in my dress.


"Lets go party!"






We arrived at a club. A nice, cold breeze brushes past me, making my hair fly back, swiftly. We make our way up to the doors as the taxi cab speeds off. Walking inside I follow Heather across the dance floor and over to a table for four up in the corner. We sit down and Heather walks off to go buy us drinks. I sit down across from Isabelle and examine around us. The music is blaring and the dance floor is full of already drunk people. I look over at the stage where I assume where the small local bands play. Heather arrives back with our drinks and sits down beside me, taking a sip of her vodka. I gaze back at the band stage and notice a group of people who looks to be setting up.


"Is there a band playing here tonight?" Heather shakes her head, looking over at the stage.


"No, tonight is supposed to be a karaoke concert type thing." I nod my head. Just then the music quiets down and someone walks on stage, holding a microphone in his hand.


"Who's ready for a small karaoke show?" the crowd that slowly started gathering, cheered and he hands the microphone to someone behind him.


"Hello," His voice holds a clear, British accent. It sounds so familiar. Almost like I've heard his voice before. He talks a little bit about himself -- where he's from, his family -- before getting ready to sing. "I decided to sing a song that I posted a cover of up to YouTube," without another word, the music starts.



"If I don't say this now, I will surely break," I pause, looking over at Isabelle with a smile on both our faces. I remember going on YouTube with Isabelle and Kate, listening to Louis Tomlinson's cover of Look After You by a band named The Fray. Isabelle nods her head to the music, glancing over at me with a smile.


"He's good. He sounds so much like Louis, too!" We laugh, enjoying the song.


"Lets move closer," Heather stands up and we follow her over to where the stage was.


As we get close to the stage, Isabelle stops in her tracks causing me to nearly bang into her. I look at her and her gaze is set on the stage, her mouth slight open in awe. I follow her gaze and nearly choke on my own spit. Up on stage singing one of my favourite covers by one of my favourite people, is Louis Tomlinson himself. Louis. Fucking. Tomlinson. My jaw immediately drops open but I recollect myself, making sure to keep my calm. I nudge Isabelle, signalling her to keep walking.


As the song finishes, the crowd claps. Whistling and screaming coming from the crowd. He smiles, letting his little dimples show and says a soft thank you into the microphone before handing it back to the other guy. He walks off stage and over to a small group of guys who look to be slightly familiar also. Gathering that we just saw the Louis Tomlinson, we gathered that it was probably the rest of the gang.


We admire him from afar, deciding whether to approach him or not. We see a guy with curly, brown hair say something to Louis and he laughs, throwing his head back. Cutie.


After a few minutes, we decide against it and walk over to the bar area, sitting down. Isabelle orders us another round of vodka.


"I'll be right back. Going to go look for a washroom," Heather walks away, tripping over her own feet. Not that she's overly drunk or anything, she's just clumsy.


As we're talking about what we have planned for the first week that we're here, we here a British accent boom from beside us.


"Can I have 6 banana pudding shots, please?" I turn my head to see Louis leaning standing beside me, waiting for his drinks. he meets my gaze and smiles, probably assuming I recognize him.


"Hi," I manage to say and he takes a seat beside me.


"Hello," he replies back, enthusiastically. "A fan?" I simply nod my head, still hoping he would stick around.


"I'm Emma," I bring out my hand and he happily shakes it.


"I'm Louis, nice to meet you, Emma." His accent is thicker in person. the way my name rolls off his tongue gives me shivers. Isabelle is sitting beside me, quietly listening to us.


I lean back a little so I'm not blocking Isabelle. "This is my friend, Isabelle." Louis nods, extending his hand. Isabelle shakes it, smiling shyly. The bartender comes back with Louis' shots. Louis grabs them, his arms full.


"Could I get two more?" The bartender nods, making two more banana pudding shots. After Louis gets the shots, he slides them on the counter over to us, motioning with his head to follow him.


We walk with him over to a corner that has probably the biggest table where I then see Harry, Niall, Liam, Andy Samuels, and Olly Murs sitting there, engaged in a conversation. Louis carefully starts setting the shots on the table and the guys all grab one.


"And who are these ladies?" Harry says, looking over at us with a charming smile on his face. Isabelle blushes, looking down. She's not used to being around celebrities. I have met plenty so, I'm getting kind of used to it.


Louis raises his hand and places it on my shoulder. "This," he gives my shoulder a small squeeze. "Is Emma." I smile, giving a small wave. "And this," he then sets his hand on Isabelle's shoulder. "Is Isabelle. Emma's friend." The guys did their round of hellos and I sit down beside Louis and Liam. Isabelle is stuck between Olly and Niall.


Louis grabs his shot and raises it in the air, the other boys copying him. "To another successful tour!" Louis nudges me and I raise mine in the air, too, happy to be a part of this small celebration.


"To another successful tour!" We all clink our shot glasses together and I bring it to my lips, tilting my head back.



This day keeps getting better and better.

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