[Trigger Warning: passing mention of eating disorder]

"Oh my God it's Scott—oof!"

Scott laughs at us. Amy was currently rubbing her side, the side I had just jabbed my elbow into. She's glaring at me. I don't care though; I turn to her and whine like a child, waving my hands over my head.

"Amy! On the flight over you promised me that you weren't going to be weird!"

Scott is now cracking up. He claps a few times and doubles over.

"That was weird!" I continued to whine.

"Does she do this often?" Scott asks between laughter.

"Yes," we say together. It simply makes Scott laugh more.

I pinch the bridge of my nose briefly and then adjust my glasses. "She said literally the exact same thing when she met me for the first time."

Amy puts a hand on her hip and tisks, turning to face me. "It was not literally. I said, 'Oh my God it's Orion Bauwens' because your name isn't Scott Davis, dickhead."

Scott cracks up again and we both look at him. He's absolutely dying. "Holy shit, it's like there's two of you! She's like a damn photocopy of you!"

"We know," we say together again. Proving his point made Scott barely be able to breathe.

Amy rolls her eyes. "We get that a lot."

Wiping a tear from his eye, he snatches up Amy's suitcases and grins at her. "Alright, the grand tour."

As we walk in I can't help but unabashedly gawk. Amy is looking equally stunned. We both follow Scott into his regal mansion. Because it really is regal.

The floor is a white marble of some sort. It feels solid beneath my feet, and I wonder how old this place is. The walls are white and cream with gold trim. Everything is accented with reds; the drapes that cover the huge windows are red with golden tassels. There are a few plush chairs situated down the expansive halls, also red, accented with gold.

Craning my neck up, I can't help but quietly gasp at the ceiling. The molding is cream, pristine. Golden flur de lis accent every other tile. Hanging periodically are golden chandeliers. My eyes drop back down, and I take note of the various paintings that liter the walls. They're very, well, British. Men dressed in horse riding gear, posing next to their horses. Dainty women with parasols taking walks. Off the top of my head I don't recognize any artists, but I'm sure these are all famous, and I'm sure they cost a fortune.

"Holy shit," I finally tell Scott, looking at him wide-eyed. "You didn't tell me you lived in a museum."

He laughs. "Not a museum."

"Fine--fucking, Buckingham Palace."

Now Amy joins in on the laughter, although shyly.

The doors are all thick wood, a polished honey color. My sister and I stay quiet as Scott leads us around. Occasionally we pass people, and I assume they're grounds workers. Personally I was morally opposed to maids and such. However, if I lived in a place of this magnitude, I'd need help.

"Ballroom," Scott said, throwing open some double doors that were in the upper east wing. He goes to shut them but I bust in, spinning in circles as I drink it in. Amy scurries after me while Scott simply leans against the door, smirking.

I stop in the middle of the room. The huge room. The room I swear could have been the set from the movie Anna Karenina. I laugh and bring my gaze back to Scott. When I speak, my voice echoes. "Holy shit, dude!"

Scott laughs. I start to walk around again, drinking in the ceiling. I gravitate towards the shiny, black, grand piano in the corner. It looks dwarfed in this room. I walk over and run my hands along it. I'm not surprised when I notice it's a Steinway & Sons. I wonder how many millions of dollars it costs (literally), but I feel like it would be rude to ask that.

"Do you dance?" Scott calls to me from across the room.

I look up at the ceiling again. A morbid thought crosses my mind and I can't help but smirk. If the grand chandelier came crashing down you'd die. Death by thousands of tiny, glittering crystals. It'd be poetic.

"No," I reply, absolutely enamored with my surroundings. "But this room is making me wish I did."

"You should."

I look at Scott. He shrugs, still leaning against the door. "I mean, it'd be something to do. Keep you out of trouble."

He had a point.

"Alright, c'mon," Scott tells me then. "There's still half a house to show you."

I moan, putting my hands on my cheeks. "For real?"

Amy laughs at me, and we walk back together. "And here I thought your place was huge, Orion!"

"Right? I think you could fit three of my houses in here."

Once we're done inside, Scott takes us outside. It's all so quaint and perfectly charming. Even though I've only been here for about an hour, I find myself low-key loving this place. When I get back, I think I'll have to see what my finances look like. I'd love a place like this.

He has a massive pool, grey stone, surrounded by cherubs, topiary, flowers and shrubs. From there we go to his garage, which I swear is the size of a small house. It's bigger than the fucking trailer I grew up in. When I make that connection in my head, it hits me just how much money Scott and myself have, and I feel a rush of guilt. Tonight I'll have to call up Gloria and tell her to dump money in charities again (I do that periodically to begin with, and I never claim it on my taxes).

Finally, we come to what I've been waiting for. At the side of the house is an open sided barn. There are six horses in stalls, all beautiful, all huge, all obviously well taken care of. Amy squeals and starts to go towards a horse. She stops herself, pulling her arms to her chest. Biting her lip, she turns bright red and looks at Scott.

"May I pet one, Mr. Davis?"

Scott laughs at her. "Please, Amy darling, call me Scott. And yes you may."

Amy squeals again and rushes towards a huge horse that honestly reminds me of Black Beauty. I lean against the wall, arms crossed, and watch her. Amy apparently knows what she's doing. She greets the horse, letting it sniff her before she even thinks about touching it. After a moment Scott goes to a bin and gives her a carrot. He instructs her how to hold it so she doesn't accidentally get her fingers bitten off, but she knows already.

Scott comes to me then as Amy talks with the horse a bit. I chuckle and shake my head.

"I had no idea she was into horses," I say.

"All girls are," Scott replies.

I roll my eyes at him.

"Okay--most girls. It's a safe bet." Scott pauses and crosses his arms. "Horses not really your thing?"

I glance over at the massive beasts. "They scare the shit out of me, if I'm being honest."

Scott laughs. I glare a little.

"What? That one's head is the size of my entire torso! And that's just it's head!" I say, pointing to a golden one with a white stripe down its nose. It's the largest one by far.

Scott laughs again and takes me by my bicep. "C'mon."

I pull back, eyes going wide. "No--no no no, I'm good--"

But Scott continues to pull me along so I finally cave and let him. He brings me over to a dark grey one with white and black spots that nearly look like freckles. It has kind, soft brown eyes, and when we approach it snorts at us.

"Okay, rule number one--don't be afraid. They can tell if you're afraid, and, depending on the horse, it'll either get spooked or be an asshole and mess with you because it knows you're scared and it thinks it's funny."

I let out my nervous bird-laugh. "G-great! That just made me more scared."

Scott grins at me. "Which is exactly why I brought you to Beautiful Charming Heart the Third."

I look at Scott and screw up my face. "Is that really it's name, or are you messing with me?"

Scott points at the weathered nameplate screwed onto the wooden door of it's stable. My eyes go huge. "Holy shit."

He waves a hand. "I'll explain how horses are named later." He turns to the horse, petting it's nose and cooing. "Hey, boy. Hey hey hey. How are you?"

The horse whinnies and snorts. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Scott pets it some more and plants a kiss in between it's eyes. "Bauwens, c'mere."

Reluctantly I shuffle closer. Scott is still smiling at his pet. "Beau, this is my friend Orion. Orion, this is Beau." Scott takes the horse by the bridle, making the thing look at him in the eyes. When he speaks, it's serious. "Be nice, okay? Be a good boy for me?"

I swallow. Scott grabs my hand and gently places it on the horse's nose. I stare, admittedly amazed at the depth of the horse's eyes. To my surprise he nuzzles my hand, snorting happily. Beau is the same height as me, so he's a little less intimidating.

"That's a good boy," Scott encourages. He then flashes me a grin. "He likes you!"

I look at Scott, and then smile at the horse. "He does?"

"Yup," Scott says with a grin. "You two are going to be best friends."