And I'll judge the cover by the book

0.1

Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. Never happened, not real, no offense is intended. Absolutely does not reflect upon the real life people mentioned in this fictional story. No profit is being made from this work. -E x

⭐️ No.3 - Rich Harry (10/03/21)

🥀

6:00 am

Harry doesn't need to get up for two more hours to get ready for his first class, but he roars and stretches his limbs in his king size bed, curling in his pink silky sheets before starting the day.

You'd think a twenty year old student living in a spacious loft with his two best mates would be waiting last minute to get ready, hammered from a party the night before and about to wear a pair of sweatpants and a snapback, but this was not the life Harry was about.

He's the kind to wake up to the sound of his artificial fountain close to his bed, making him feel like he's lying in the middle of a creek and not a bedroom in Buckingham. He's the kind to make his bed right after stepping into his maroon slippers, the kind to open the curtains to take a deep breath and greet the day even though the sun has barely risen, and the kind to grab his yoga mat to spread in front of his bed to start his morning stretch, going through child pose and warrior II until he's become aware of himself before walking to the bathroom.

He might or might not spend about an hour there, pampering until he feels himself clean, smooth, and fresh enough to get dressed.

As usual, his outfit is already hanging on the mannequin in his walk-in closet since the night before. He had convinced his mom - a successful fashion designer - to get him his own eccentric male statuette, just for the aesthetic. He called it Manny Kin and no one had the right to comment on that.

He slips into his tight black jeans costing more than they should - but totally worth it seeing how often he wears them – and half buttons his black Marc Jacobs shirt with pink flamingos on it, short sleeved because it's the end of August and he's planning on making the most of the weather while he still can.

He puts his socks on, grabs his black Saint Laurent leather boots - because it's the end of summer in England, not a tropical island - and takes his pre packed Tom Ford duffle bag, filled with extra clothes and the football gear he really wishes he didn't have to own.

He checks himself out in his six foot tall mirror one last time, nodding at the sight of his bum in those amazingly fitted jeans, and walks to the kitchen, throwing his bag on the couch on his way.

He gets all the fruits and greens he needs from the fridge and chooses coconut water to complete his morning smoothie. He then grabs a granola bar and fills his glass with his green mixture before sitting on one of the stools behind the bar overlooking the living room, and goes through everything he needs to check whilst sipping on his juice.

He goes over his mails, Twitter, Instagram, and every possible social media until he switches to the news. He frowns at the sight of another riot at one of his mom's shows, this one initiated by an organized crowd trying to raise awareness towards animal cruelty by boycotting the fur industry.

If she weren't his mother, Harry would be leading that crowd.

Once he's done reading most news and chugged his smoothie down, he rinses the greenish glass and puts it next to the sink before grabbing four toasts. He slides them into the toaster and opens cupboards to get the jam and Nutella out, and turns the coffee machine on for his friends, still snoring in their beds.

8:00 am

For the first time of this year there's a sudden series of alarms going off and an echo of groans from the hallway, making it official: the school year had started.