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He carefully inhaled the fresh pine trees and his aftershave mixed with the breezy London air. The sun was about to set, and the surrounding grew darker, but his happiness haven’t subsided even then; and he’s convinced it wouldn’t for quite a while.
The window to his sleek black Range Rover were all lowered down, and he could practically feel his plaid flannel polo cling to his body because it was too windy. The car was far too luxurious for any normal man, he was aware; but he really wasn’t just a normal man.
So on his way home, he stopped by for pictures. The schedule might have been hectic, but those people deserved photographed memories. The cameras flashed, almost giving his eyes a proper blind check, but he was too joyful to even bother and he loved them so it was fairly alright. After a few more clicks, he gracefully made his way back to his newest possession, waving and sending his goodbyes.
He started the engine, and with a loud snarl, he took off. He glided the streets swiftly, like how a drift racer would, or a teenager freed from his walls; passing by each landmark and still giving himself enough time to take their features in. It was so much better in the driver’s seat than being in the sidelines. That’s something he got to prove.
How come he hadn’t noticed how tall Big Ben was? Had it been any different before or did he drop a few sizes smaller? The details were carefully embossed in the being of the clock in gold and silver, perfected to the very last bit. The Palace of Westminster added sophistication to the view, it gave him another reason to why this was one of the best cities he’s known, leaving him happier than he was moments before, if that was possible. And since he couldn’t stare at it forever, his attention drifted to the very eminent London Eye just astride the palace. It would take a great amount of effort to ignore such a beauty. He’d also know that, because he could remember that one time they went to London when he was just a kid, and he got to ride the Ferris wheel. That was his first time seeing the city in action, and how breathtakingly stunning it looked from above: people casually exchanging a chat, some rushing towards wherever they were to go, cars honking to pass by the busy roads, and how normal it felt to be breathing in such wonderful scenery. He was awakened from his flashback when he passed by London Bridge – which was the last one he’d see before he finally arrived home – and the lights begun flickering, he thinks it doesn’t happen regularly though. Well, that, or the fact that he was too busy minding other things and never got a chance to really see the flickering lights. And it was amazing. Funny, though, how repetitive the city’s name was, given that it is almost locked with the landmarks’ titles yet the sound of it was just as pleasing as the view it was giving. The visions of a city like this – and others he’d visited – was what kept him going sometimes, when he felt like he needed a rest from the hustle and bustle of the career that was his life, and it worked every time.
After a fulfilling journey, he arrived at the flat. The vehicle went straight for the parking garage, and to a quick halt. He rolled the windows up, making sure he didn’t forget anything before getting off the car – his car. And when he finally did, he took one last look at it, locking the doors up before him. He got his wallet out and read the freshly printed license. When he goes in the door he’d come to call home for two years now, he’ll be seeing four other guys inside, probably in a blur of hugs with different scents, tangled limbs in the den, and a whole lot of mess; and he’s fine with that. But until then, he’s Niall Horan and he fucking made it on the first go.