"Jesus, this has to be some kind of joke." My father muttered, immediately going to his phone, a frown set on his face. "What is that?" I asked, peering out the window. I was met with the view of around fifteen caravans parked along the green outside our house. "What do you mean it's public land? I pay to live in an area where it's calm and peaceful! I don't want these fucking gypsies- No, you listen to me-" I could heard my Dad yelling at someone down the phone. My Mum came and stood next to me, sighing when she looked out the window. "What is that?" I asked her and she turned to me, her face a picture of distaste. "The circus." Twenty-one year old Louis Tomlinson has just returned home after his second year at University to spend the summer crashing with his parents. He expected things to be relaxing, sunny and calm. Then there was the circus, complete with a curly haired circus boy. This is obviously my own work, and under the copyright act it is protected against being copied by other authors so please, don't copy it.