Wanderlust

Sitting at the breakfast bar of Will and I’s apartment, spooning Cheerios into my mouth, a magazine was suddenly slapped down into my view, smacking the marble counter and making me jump in my seat. I looked up quickly into the narrowed eyes of my brother, confusion on my face as I paused mid-bite.

“Courtesy of Kara.” Was all he said before he stalked out of the room and back into the midst of our home. He and I were on minimal speaking terms as of yesterday when he and Paloma had gotten on my last nerve; he was being a baby about it, but if it meant the house were more quiet then so be it.

Looking down onto the bench where the magazine lay I immediately caught onto what the big deal was. On the front cover of ‘OK!’ magazine sat a large, zoomed in imagine of myself and Harry at the supermarket yesterday afternoon. Underneath the picture printed in large, bright pink letters, ‘The Real Larry?’

I dropped my spoon clumsily into my unfinished bowl, pushing my breakfast away and replacing it with the tabloid. I skimmed the thin pages hastily, searching for the main article until finally I found it, accompanied by more pictures which included images of both Harry and I carrying groceries together, as well as us entering his flat.

’While most hardcore ‘Directioners’ are shipping ‘One Direction’ members, Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles, it appears there may be a new – more believable – ‘Larry’ in the midst.
Australian singer/actress, Lucy Callaghan was spotted shopping for groceries just yesterday (see left) with the boy band heart throb by her side, and if that doesn’t scream commitment we don’t know what does. Witnesses say that inside the store the pair were even getting cosy by the trolley – talk about cute!

Having just moved to the UK last month, this isn’t the first time Callaghan has been spotted with Styles, sources saying that the pair have been friends for a while now and that living in the same country has just made the idea of a relationship easier! Reps of the ‘Fireball’ star have thoroughly denied the blossoming rumors for the young celebs, but that doesn’t mean we don’t foresee romance in the near future!

Do you ship this Larry? Let us know online at www.OK.com.uk now!’

By the end of the article I had balled my fist into my already messy bed hair. Honestly, this kind of press was the last thing I needed; I can’t even imagine what Harry’s management were saying.

“So, are you two dating or what?”

I looked up to find Paloma hovering over the other side of the counter, an apple perched in her hand as she eyed me expectantly.

“No! We bought toilet paper together, how is that news?!”

Paloma chewed obnoxiously on her fruit for a moment, “It is kind of couple-y, buying food and shit... What’d you get up to back at his place, hm?”

I rolled my eyes at her, not bothering to answer as I jumped down from the bench stool and made my way to my bedroom, hearing her toss the apple and follow me.

“Come on, Cal, are you still mad at me? I said sorry last night!”
I fell down onto my bed heavily, staring up at the ceiling while Paloma carried on.

“It was his fault, anyway. I don’t see why I have to apologize at all, he’s the dickhead who talks down to me. Do you know what he said when you were go—“

“Paloma, I don’t care about that!” I huffed, leaning up onto my elbows to look her in the eye. “I don’t care about you and Will. Did you read that article? Harry is never going to speak to me again with those rumors going around, none of the boys will. Last week it said I was sleeping with Niall because someone at a club saw us talking, I mean, what is that?”

“It’s just bad press, babe. Those fuckers will write anything to sell a couple of magazines, and since when do you care about what people say about you?”

I sighed, thinking about it for a moment. Paloma was right – Since when did I care?

Magazines had been writing false things about me since I walked my first carpet, claiming all sorts of rumors and it hadn’t phased me once. I had an inkling that maybe I cared more about what One Direction thought rather than OK!, but I kept that to myself.

“I don’t have time to think about this, I have to get ready for the studio...” I thought out loud, springing up from my bed and crossing over to my wardrobe.

“Oh, right! Have you written anything for it?” Paloma followed, leaning against the wardrobes doorway and crossing her arms. I wondered briefly is she was meaning to look so intimidating...

“I have like, two songs. Harry helped with one yesterday,” – I caught Paloma’s pointed look – “and that’s all he did.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure that’s all”



We pulled up to the studio with ten minutes to spare, Paloma in the back seat and Will in the driver’s, me riding shot gun. My leg had been bouncing incessantly for the whole trip, the whole twenty-five minutes.

“I feel sick.” I stated, overdramatically.

“You’ll be fine.” Will sighed, exiting the car quickly and pacing toward the Studio’s entrance.

I pouted at my older brother, tightening the loose bun sitting lowly at the back of my head. I was suddenly not so thrilled with his detachment.

Jumping out of car as well, I opened up Twitter quickly as Paloma and I followed after William, tapping away at the keyboard with hasty fingers.

’At the studio! Half pumped, half gonna’ throw up. Ahhh! Xox’

“Charming.” Paloma snipped from beside me.

By the time Loma and I had reached the front desk, Will had already began talking to the music producer he had spoken with recently, Michael Kelt. Given that I hadn’t been musically involved for the past couple of years, I left it up to Kara to choose who I should work with and she assured me I was in good hands.

After a bit of talking with Michael, who had the thickest Scottish accent I had ever heard, he led us to one of the studios and asked me how much of process I had already gotten through.

“I have some songs written, and I have the chords but I don’t think I want it to be recorded with guitar.”

“No problem,” Michael stated, falling down into a leather chair behind all the controls, “take that acoustic and play it anyway, we’ll do more takes when we’ve got the tune sorted.”

I agreed quickly, picking up the acoustic guitar that was sitting by the leather couch behind him and headed for the booth where a seat was waiting.

A microphone had been set up at both my mouth and my lap where the guitar would sit, so I sat down and perched the instrument at the device. I picked up the earphones hanging over the stand and placed them over my ears, watching Michael as he leant closer to the large window separating us and spoke into his own mic, “’right, love, when ye’ ready.”

I breathed deeply, hearing complete silence as three pairs of eyes watched me intently. I planned on singing the song Harry had helped me finish yesterday afternoon, the one he claimed he loved. I felt so proud of myself when he said that, like his approval meant so much. I suppose it did mean a lot to me that he would like my song, considering he’s another artist and all.

Just as I went to strum at the first cord of the guitar, my phone vibrated from the pocket of my jeans.

I looked up quickly, holding up my finger to signal I wouldn’t be a moment and pulled it out to reveal a picture message from the very boy on my mind.

My picture revealed himself, Louis and Liam all holding their thumbs up to the camera, and underneath the picture was the message, ’The lads and I wish you good luck!! Message us when you’re done and we’ll go out for drinks xx’

I looked up again, a grin tattooed onto my face, to see that Michael was now chatting with Will, his body turned away from the window. I quickly turned the camera on myself to reveal the earphones, guitar and a horrified face, typing ‘Thanks lads! Will do! X’ quickly before tucking my phone away again.

I cleared my throat and watched as Michael spun back around, a patient smile on his stubbled face. “Ready!”



“Ay, if it isn’t the big shot recordin’ artist!”

I laughed as Paloma and I approached the table holding all the members of One Direction. Harry had messaged me nearing the end on my recording informing me that they were on their way to a pub, about half a minute’s drive from the studio we were at. The pub was very quaint, not extremely busy given it was a Wednesday, but not dead quiet. I assumed the various people scattering the bar bench were either regulars or employees, all friendly nonetheless. Will had decided to not join us, claiming he was tired, but I knew he really only wanted to go home and call the mysterious girl he had been hiding away. I was kind of glad he had declined the offer, having stayed silent in the studio and only acknowledging the process when Michael asked him a question; he even went so far as to ignore me when I asked what he thought of the song on our way out.

“Thanks, Niall.” I hugged him from behind, ruffling at his blonde locks to annoy him and sitting down in the seat between him and Louis.

“Guys, this is Paloma, the friend I was tell you about.” I subtly nudged Niall’s side as Loma sat down on the other side on the Irishman, giving him the smile she gave most boys.

“How was it, then?” I looked away from the pair beside me and up into the awaiting emerald eyes of Harry Styles.

“It was terrifying. I recorded ‘Cameo Lover’ on acoustic, though, and it sounded great.” I gushed, trying to hold down the heat in my cheeks under the gaze of the boy across from me.

“I told you it would; ya should’ve ‘eard it, guys.”
Louis set down his pint of bear loudly, a sly smile on his thin lips. “When did you hear it, Harold?”

The table fell silent rather quickly due to Louis’ seemingly innocent question – though his eyes hinted that maybe he had seen that article as well - and furrowed eyebrows pointed toward Harry before Paloma’s hand shot up into the air.

“Can I get a drink or what?”

Niall’s laugh bellowed around the silent group, slapping his hand softly onto the wooden tabletop. “I like this lass, Luce.”

Soon enough the conversation carried on, Loma got her beer and evening turned into night. The boys congratulated me on my return to music and even shouted Loma and I beers for the entire event. I wasn’t a particular fan of beer with its bitter taste and bloating effects, but I didn’t want to turn down a sweet gesture. Paloma, however, was downing them like they were going out of style. I could see the admiration on a particular boy’s face, and I knew all my hard work had payed off for the pair to my left.

At around one thirty in the morning, we decided it was probably best we called it quits. Loma and I called for a taxi to pick us up from where the boys’ car was waiting and we all piled out the pub’s doors with a buzz swallowing the group. Luckily enough, the streets were mostly empty as we filed down to the end of the pathway where the dark car sat, a large man standing by it with his arms folded into his chest.

Harry walked beside me, his steps a tad sloppy thanks to the beers he had ingested and his arm thrown over my shoulder. “I can’t wai’ to ‘ear tha’ song.” He mumbled, his head tilted down and his accent even more lazy than usual.

“I can’t wait for you to hear it, I’m so happy with how it’s coming out.” I smiled up and him, crossing my arms to ward off the cold weather London’s night time often delivered.

“D’ya think I could come with ya’ next time? To hear you record it?” He asked quietly, shuffling away the brown curls falling down into his eyes and stopping our walking just behind the group ahead as they reached their car.

“Of course you can, Harry. I’d love that.”

Harry’s smile spread out into his cheeks, dimpling his skin and brightening his beautiful eyes as his stared down at me, murmuring out a ‘good’, before looking out onto the road where a taxi cab had pulled up.

“Let me know when ya’ gonna go, yeah?”

I nodded before he wrapped his long arms around my waist, pulling me in for a hug good bye. Pulling
away, though with his hands still at my sides, he leaned in and planted his lips to my cheek, igniting my skin in doing so. “G’bye, Luce.”

I ducked my head as a smile ached at my own lips, tucking away some fallen hair and feeling as his large hands left my sides. “Bye, Harry.”