Young & Beautiful

Louis shrugs. “It is what it is. Now, what are your plans for the day? Because we have a tea party
to attend.”
Niall then smiles, lighting up the shadows of the room instantly. “All right.”
“All right? No excuses? No rowing club? You’re actually going to come?”
“Yep. I quit yesterday. I was bored out of my shite mind. So let’s go to a fuckin’ tea party!” And
he hops off of the piano stool, barreling himself into his room with a loud whoop.
Louis smiles. This may just turn out to be a splendid day indeed.
**
When they arrive at Zayn’s rooms, dressed in awkwardly matching outfits which they only
realized after they were almost there (“Niall Horan, you are going to march straight back to our
flat and change this instant. My braces match your trousers. That is NOT acceptable.” “Our shirts
match, too.” “NIALL!”), Louis is already a tad flustered.
Luckily Niall is incapable of that emotion.
“Knock, knock!” Niall calls from the other side of the oak door, the very embodiment of antishyness.
“You know that’s rude. You should’ve let me do that,” Louis scolds.
“Why?”
“Because I know them.”
“I know them, too!”
“Not as well as me!”
“I’ve known them longer.”
“It doesn’t work like that—all you rich people know each other or are related! It’s like incest!”
A voice interrupts.
“Come in!” Liam’s voice sings, and shooting one last glare in Niall’s oblivious direction, Louis
opens the door.
The room is gorgeous as ever, the table set with Victorian style chinaware that glints amongst the
sunlight and ambient lighting, fresh roses and hydrangeas overflowing out of glass vases. There
are crumpets, scones, and biscuits stacked in neat little piles on elegant, gilt trays. It's marvelous. A
breeze wafts through the maroon satin curtains of the windows, and Louis almost laments that the
piano is sitting, untouched—a bit of music would really accent the setting perfectly.
“You’ve outdone yourself once again, Zayn,” Louis greets, and Zayn smiles from the head of the
table as Liam fills his teacup.
“Louis!” Liam beams, looking up with a glimmering smile and starched shirt.
“Hello, hello. This here’s—“ Louis starts before:
“Heeey, mates! Good to see you again,” Niall belts, smacking a handshake to Zayn’s gentle hands