Food Queen (Completed)

Chapter 18

Hello!

This chapter is the reason I wanted to publish Food Queen on Wattpad in the first place. The stereotypical characters are nailed and I have a twist for you about their manager hehe... :)

Just want to say that I read every comment and it means a lot!

Once again, remember that this is just fiction. Not real at all.

//Mica

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The car sets into silence as I pull out the keys. I wrap my mufflet around my neck and walk into the slightly cold autumn air.

Greenwich Mainstreet 23 looks exactly as when my last visit. The black lions and birds bowing for whoever wanting to enter are freshly cleaned by the recent rainwater. The bushes have red and orange leaves - the only difference since my last time. Glimmering in the early sunlight like shining pearls.

Knocking on the white door I almost immediatley hear footsteps moving from inside. The door opens and a blonde piece of wet hair inside a tangled towel peers out. Together with two crystal blue orbs and a sexy irish accent they make the irish picture complete.

"Hi, failtie!"

I raise my orbbrows. Is that supposed to be me? 

"Fall-tcha. Sorry. It's irish for welcome. We are recording a tune on the keyboard right now, but you can come inside to take a look."

Almost automatically he lets me into a hug as he irishly invites me inside with his free arm. I can't resist thinking of what a big difference it is since my last stay. Huge in fact. He was screaming and yelling all over the place only because of me. Now he is as friendly as ever. Inviting me to their studio, even rewarding me with a hug on the way.

I follow him through the exclusive house. The fresh smell of acids as a sacred mist over every furniture. I bet they have a cleaning assistant beyond normal limits.
Through the living room decorated in white and down a stair leading to the basement. I can hear a muffled mysterious voice singing particulary high tones.
Niall opens a door with clawmarks and push me inside.

"Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you. We have a cat called Simon Cowell. Real bastard."

I jump at the sound of my uncle's name, then remember Kylie telling me he is One Direction's manager. Funny they have decided to name their cat after him.

While the boys continue singing and playing I take a seat on a stool by the window. The room is very small. Stuffed with so much musical instruments it isn't a nice place to look at anymore. Luckily looking is not the right thing to do here.

The walls are sound isolated and in the left corner stands a heavy standard piano. The drums are at the other side. I notice that quickly, together with several stands for guitars and bases. The keyboard is in the middle of the room with a couple of microphones and a recording machine next to it. At the far back lies a MacBook on a table. Ready to mix songs into popmusic.

"Listen to this." Niall says and puts a pair of headphones over my head.

Smooth, happy music flows through ear to ear. Like a floating river childishly playing springy tones. Creating a good feeling inside my body. A steady beat plays in the background accompanied with that shallow mysterious voice. I watch as Niall burst into a wavy riverdance to the, for him, silent song but I guess he has heard it so many times already that he automatically knows every single piece coming next.