Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 Wonderwall

Because maybe,
you're gonna be the one that saves me 
And after all,you're my wonderwall
Wonderwall; Oasis

Sweat licks the base of Louis’ spine, as he’s tangled in his charcoal sheets. It’s too hot in his shitty apartment, but as usual, Louis ignored when his mom said, ‘buy a fan.’ Nor did he listen to his roommate Zayn, who said the temperature this week was going to be, ‘hot as balls.’ Louis really should have. Louis really really should have. But like with most things, Louis chose to disregard it.  

Yeah, he’s regretting that decision momentarily.

Knock. Knock. Knock. “You up, fucker?”

It’s too early for Zayn to be awake or socializing, and Liam is most likely out on a run, which leaves only one other person that could be bothering Louis at this hour. Niall.

“Leave me alone,” he mumbles back to his closed door. When Niall barges in anyway, Louis makes a mental note to change his handle for one with a lock. Preferably, as soon as possible.

“First day of the semester, Tommo,” the bubbly blonde cheers louder than is acceptable this early in the morning. “Time to get up!”

“Ni, don’t you have better things to do than harass me at the ass crack of dawn?”

“Eleven isn’t the ass crack of dawn . And no, we have class together in half an hour, and I’m not going by myself on the first day.”

Snuggling his chestnut strands against his pillow, Louis tries to reclaim sleep as he groggily says back, "It's our Junior year. First days don't matter."

“I don't care. We're going.”

Louis groans loudly to get his point across, until Niall snatches the pillow away from his grasp. "Wh- you did not just pull that from me!”

"You bet your ass I did, and if you don't get up, it's going to be your sheets next."

“You’re lucky you’re a top-notch guitar player because otherwise, I would have you replaced!”

Niall grins amusingly at the threat, “I’m also a top-notch best friend, asshole. Can’t replace me if you tried.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Beg to differ.”

The pillow that had been under him before Niall ripped it away, is suddenly launched at Louis' head from Niall's grasp. In defense, Louis tackles Niall to the ground, throwing a few punches to his side for good measure. A perfectly reasonable response to being woken up prior to his alarm, Louis concludes. Once Louis succeeds in hearing Niall beg for mercy, it takes another fifteen minutes till he’s is up to standard and ready to go.

All in all, a very typical morning for Louis Tomlinson.

As Niall leads them out the apartment, making their way up two streets to campus, he says with a broad grin captivating his pale face, "Another year of paradise, Louis! I can't fucking wait."

The indifference on Louis’ lips conforms to a smile, “Me too, Niall. Fuck, me too.”

******************

Despite initial excitement, by nightfall, Louis is pleading for Fall break. The courses are more difficult than last year - if his syllabi are anything to go by. Meaning this semester is going to suck. Well…academically, at least. In regards to everything else, Louis plans on it being his best year yet.

It's so much more than partying, too. For Louis, it's about the music. It's always been about the music. When he graduated from high school, he was prepared to tell his small hometown in Indiana good-bye, and head for the big city – Chicago. However, he had no money and no place to live. Thankfully, a family friend suggested Louis consider music production as a career to fall back on, and Louis' been doing the college thing ever since.

A proud and honorable student he is, at Indiana University.

It's worked out well so far, and if things keep progressing the way they seem to be, he'll have both a degree and a signed contract within two years. He's not picky about which record company he wants to be represented under; he just wants to be represented at all.

Aspirations , he proudly thinks as he leaves his last class for the day.

Outside, the persistent August heat clings to the smile that's formed, creating droplets above Louis' pink lips as he's walking back home. There's eagerness in each step, procured from the fact that tonight is his first band practice this year.

The Rogue is his everything, and Louis’ never been more proud to be a part of something before.  

Funny enough, the band's existence happened unintentionally. The first day of freshman year, Louis had met Niall in one of their intros to music theory classes. He and this other kid had been talking about practicing together later that day, and Louis couldn't help but invite himself along. When there was talk of making the jam sessions a more permanent fixture, the other kid backed out of joining their band. It wasn't a great loss thankfully because Niall and Louis were a solid duo without him.

However, when Louis stumbled upon Liam in the locker room a few weeks later, he couldn’t help from thinking that he found their missing piece. Liam had been showering after a workout, singing along to himself, unaware that anybody was listening. But Louis was, and he refused to let this diamond in the rough pass him up. So naturally, he cornered Liam in the shower stall and forced him to come to their practice later.

It was just dumb luck that the boy knew how to play the drums, too.

But from that moment, they’ve been the three amigos ever since. Well, including Louis’ best friend and roommate Zayn, though he’s not a part of the music scene as they are. Art is his forte, or however they call it.

Climbing the creaky stairs to his apartment, Louis enters his living room to Liam and Niall setting up their instruments. The sight extracts an excitement from Louis, who halts in his steps to take it all in. This, is what he loves.

"Hey, guys."

“Louis,” Liam waves, “How was your first day?”

Shucking off his backpack, Louis rests in this dingy old chair he and Zayn bought years ago from an auction to save money. The color may be a faded shade of royal blue, and it may have a few holes here or there, but it's held up since freshmen year. With all the memories that this chair has lived through, all the people that have sat in its seat, all the times even that Louis has passed out in its softness - Louis refuses to give it up. It's sentimental.

“Well,” Louis adjusts himself till he’s comfortable in his designated spot, “It was a day, Liam.”

“Fuck off.”

Laughing at his response, Louis ignores the middle finger Liam rudely sends his way. “Right, right. I don't know, it was okay? Gonna be a tough year, but just that much closer to graduating, right boys?”

“Righto,” Niall joyfully returns.

“True,” Liam agrees. “Well good. I think I’m gonna do fine in all my classes except Econ. Where’s Zayn by the way?”

“I don’t know, probably taking advantage of the art studio like always?”

“Makes sense. He’s so talented, like incredibly gifted in a wa-"

“Liam,” Louis interrupts.

“Ye…yeah?”

"Tonight is rehearsal. Any other night you can talk about how in love with Zayn you are, but not tonight. Tonight…is for the music."

Niall cackles at Louis’ dramatics, while Liam frowns at the comment.

“I’m not in love with him.”

“Oh for goodness sake’s Liam, you’re not fooling anyone! Now…what songs do we want to sing for the Alpha Chi Omega back to school party this weekend? Eleanor’s been bugging me all summer about it.”

“What about doing some originals and some covers,” Niall offers. “Start out with the covers in the beginning, originals in the middle, and then end it on one classic cover song.”

Louis nods along, “And the last song would be?”

“Wonderwall, Closing Time, Jumper...” Liam lists off, “Anything that gets the crowd to sing along.”

“Good idea, let’s do Closing Time. Wonderwall sucks.”

At the answer, Niall and Liam both drop their jaws. In response to their reaction, Louis tilts his head in confusion. "You guys okay?"

“You hate Wonderwall?” Niall snaps, “That’s like the classic of all classic songs. It’s a guaranteed crowd favorite. Not to mention that Oasis is just a great band in general.”

Louis automatically defends, “Oasis is a good band, but Wonderwall is overplayed. And I know that that’s the point, but it’s just…overrated? Lost its touch? Meaningless?”

“Meaningless?” Niall repeats sarcastically.

“Meaningless, yeah…why the fuck is this bothering you so much?”

“Because you,” Niall points, “Who loves music or rather obsesses over music, hates one of music’s greatest achievements.”

Louis scoffs indignantly, “That’s bullshit.”

"No, it's not! You just hate it on principle. You should take a day, sit around and do nothing, and just listen. Let it sink into you, and come back and tell me what you think. If you still don’t like it then fine, I’ll leave it be. But if not, then we’re performing it at Bridge’s.”

Bridge’s, aka Bridge’s Bookstore, is a hot spot music hub at night where scouts occasionally come to check the local talent. Louis had been told in secrecy by Bridgette the owner, that a scout had called asking about any particularly good lineups to watch. She may or may not have thrown The Rogue's name around, and she may or may not have explicitly listed their upcoming performance for them to come watch.

“No,” Louis deadpans.

“Yes,” Niall’s blue eyes challenge.

“You’re really this concerned about it? Like it seriously is bothering you that much?”

“Yes, it is.”

The two of them stare at one another for far longer than is necessary, while Liam awkwardly watches from a distance.

“Fine,” Louis secedes. “Fine, I’ll listen to it, and go back to hating it like I always have.”

“Great,” Niall smiles through his anger. “Just great.”

They finally break eye contact to unload their music sheets, leaving Liam to address the real issue. “Now that that’s over, how about No Control for one of our originals?”

******************

It never ceases to amaze Louis how quickly life transitions.

For starters, the first week of his semester is done and over with. In celebration, Louis’ currently at the big, ‘back to school’ party hosted by Alpha Chi Omega. The same sorority that asked The Rogue to perform tonight. Due to his show occurring soon, Louis’ refraining from partaking in the alcoholic beverages, though the affair is in full swing. People are pouring out of rooms, pizza boxes are strewn across the counters. Louis’ just glad he doesn’t have to clean up the aftermath of one of these events.  

Although, there are a few positives Louis shouldn’t ignore. While he may be sober, he’s still buzzing off the energy. Off the enthusiasm to perform again. And throughout the night, many people have stopped to say that they can’t wait to see him play later. Some have even mentioned how they waited all summer to see, ‘Louis Tomlinson tear up the fucking stage.’ For that, he’s happy to be here. For that, he’s grateful Eleanor asked them to do the show. Because playing in front of a crowd like this, puts Louis right in his element.

And this high? This high he always gets off of playing? It's a high he'll never be able to replicate with any alcohol, drug, or cigarette. This is what music does to him. This is what Louis lives for. This pure, unadulterated sensation of sound that courses through his deprived veins, and surges through his addicted soul, lighting Louis up with a million fireworks.

This is his calling.

Ten minutes before they're meant to start, Louis, Liam, and Niall are in the backyard setting up. There's a stage the sorority has had since forever, that they've played on a few times in the past. It's not the big stage Louis dreams of being on one day, but it serves its purpose nonetheless.

A stage is a stage is a stage. And music is music no matter where it’s played.

“Hey, Louis!"

Picking his head up from the mic stand, Louis spots Eleanor - the sorority vice president, waving at him. “Oh hey, El.”

When the two first met freshman year at a party, Eleanor had tried all night to get Louis alone with her. It took three more attempts at her trying to kiss Louis when he finally shoved his hand in her face and confessed he was gay. Thankfully, they've been friends from then on, because Louis couldn't survive another night with her like that. As lovely as she is, she doesn't have the right parts.

Flipping her wavy hair behind her shoulder, Eleanor asks, “Do you guys have everything you need?”

“Yes, luckily. We’re all good here.”

“Alright! Find me after the show. I've got a beer with your name on it."

“Make that jack and coke, and I’m there.”

Eleanor winks on her retreat to the house. Following her line of movement, Louis’ eyes scan the crowd of people she saunters through. The number of those waiting for the show has picked up drastically, which is a good sign. It means that people still want to see them. So Louis wastes no time giving the people what they want. Grabbing the mic within his hands, he senses no fear when his voice takes over the place.

Because really, this is second nature to him.

“Hello everybody!” A loud chorus of cheers returns Louis’ greeting. Grinning, he leans back into the mic, “Hope you’re having a great time tonight. We’re gonna sing a few songs for you all, some you’ll know, some you won’t. Hopefully…all you’ll like. And in case you’ve never met us before, we’re The Rogue!”

The cheers roar into screams at the mention of their band name, and Louis is thriving. Not wanting to wait till they die down, Louis turns to give Liam a nod, who starts the count and breaks out onto the drums. This is when Louis feels most alive, as if all his senses have heightened. He can practically feel this moment saturated on his tongue, spreading over every inch like syrup until all he can taste is this euphoria.

And nothing, no absolutely nothing, could bring Louis down from this.

******************

After the epic performance and even greater encore of Closing Time, Louis got spectacularly smashed. Every shot of liquor that seeped in was appointed with one job only, to get Louis wasted. It was a successful night, to say the least. Which is precisely what Louis tries to remind himself Sunday morning when he wakes up to the sensation of his head splitting open. Fuck, he hasn't consumed that much alcohol since the end of the year party back in May.

His liver, it seems, has lost its tolerance.

Water. He needs water. And maybe some medicine? However, when Louis tries to sit up in bed, he's almost knocked back down from the spinning that takes hold. Scratch that. Definitely some medicine.

It's another hour till Louis is well enough to face society, though society only includes his roommate Zayn. Crawling out of his room, Louis shuffles onto the couch and repositions himself the same way he had been on his bed. The only difference is that he's using Zayn's body as a pillow.

“Hi, Louis.”

“Fuck,” Louis groans out.

“Rough night?”

“Epic night, actually. Tore up the stage at ΑΧΩ, just went a bit too hard on the alcohol intake.”

Zayn shakes his head, causing his ebony strands to fall slightly out of place, “So the same old shit?”

“Same old shit,” Louis agrees. “Hey, what were you up to yesterday?”

“Studio. I have this idea for my Fall project already, and I wanted to try it out.”

“Oh yeah? That’s cool.”

“Yeah, I guess. You got any plans today?”

“Might head over to Caroline’s. She’s got open mic signups, and I want to get there before anyone else takes my times.”

“Surprised you’re not doing the one tonight. First mic night is always the busiest.”

Louis nods, “True, but I feel like shit. Next week though I’ll be there. You should come, Niall and Liam might go, and I know Liam wants to see you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, so…you know…you do what you can to make him happy.”

“Shut up,” Zayn groans until the idea seems to settle over him. “Maybe.”

“Maybe works for me,” Louis accepts as he adjusts to a more comfortable position, veering on the edge of falling asleep again. Zayn, being the absolute best friend that Louis’ ever had, casually runs his fingers across Louis’ head to calm him. It doesn’t cure his nausea, but it helps.

******************

Most of Saturday was spent with Louis on the couch, or rather, on top of Zayn. It was nice while it lasted, but as all things must, it sadly came to an end. While Louis isn’t in the best state, he also really doesn’t want to fight over time slots with other performers for open mic night. Especially when he’s far from a newcomer to this event.

So he tugs on a blue t-shirt and pops bubble gum into his mouth. Clean enough.

The venue that open mic night is occurring at - Caroline’s - is just a regular coffee shop on campus. During a select few weeknights and nearly all weekends, they hold live performances for anyone willing to sign up. In comparison, Louis prefers performing at Bridge’s. Mainly because it’s in the city as opposed to campus, and other people from the area can watch them play if they want. On the opposite hand, open mic at Caroline’s has an intimacy that Louis can’t find anywhere else.

For all the desire Louis has in playing on a big stage, he will admit that getting to sing in front of a small crowd has its own perks, too.

Just as Zayn had earlier predicted, Caroline’s is packed the minute Louis gets to the Student Union. There’s a line waiting to order food alone, while the tables are occupied to maximum capacity. It's mostly first-year students Louis notices, eager to meet new people at college. Louis’ glad in a way that he’s not singing tonight; sometimes it’s nice to know a few faces in the crowd. 

Another disadvantage Louis thinks, with open mic night, is that it's not only music-related performers. There can be poetry readings, improv, comedy, and anything else a person can do in front of a microphone. Not that Louis doesn't enjoy seeing many of these talents, but when it's at its busiest, people don't get more than five minutes to show the audience their best self. Whereas Bridge's dedicates time for music acts solely, with about three performers a night.

Strutting past the line, Louis locates his friend Perrie behind the counter, writing something down on a desk. She’s the same age as Louis, but the two hadn’t met until last January, when Perrie was dating Zayn. The relationship didn’t last, and eventually Perrie started dating a lovely girl named Jade, but throughout the whole ordeal, Louis and Perrie remained good friends. She even works at Caroline’s, and always does what she can to get Louis the mic nights he prefers.

“Perrie!”

Lifting her lavender hair, Perrie's wide blue eyes ease into a smile upon seeing Louis. "Hey! What's up!"

“Not much, just wanted to see the sign-up sheet.”

She rolls her eyes, "Of course. Not like you want to know how I'm doing or anything."

“Course not. This is the only reason I keep you around.”

“Fucker,” she laughs. “Alright hold on. It’s pretty filled already, some freshman came in and signed up for a ton of slots.”

"Well, I get seniority."

“Look over the sheet first, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Louis pouts his bottom lip but does as she instructs. Taking the sheet cluttered with times available for the next few weeks, Louis notices a pattern in the list. The name of the person Perrie had just mentioned: Harry Styles. It’s written at least seven times, and three of which are during timeframes Louis wants.

“Who the fuck is Harry Styles?”

Perrie chuckles at the way Louis blurts out the question. “You’re about to find out,” she answers, pointing over Louis’ shoulder.

Just as her words dissipate, a male voice blooms in the room - rich in sound as it drags Louis down into it's deep waves. Louis gasps at how raw it is. At how it has Louis swimming within its silky texture until the voice slithers within to grip firmly around Louis' heart. He hasn't even turned around to see the singer, and yet, he's so affected.

Louis’ impressed. And also extremely, extremely envious.

When he does reposition his focus to the person standing at the front of the room, it’s not the sound that inevitably snatches Louis’ breath tortuously from his lungs, but the boy standing there. Because even in this distance, Louis can tell that he’s unreal.

Moulded with unfairly lengthy legs, the delicious thighs smooth into a torso of equal attraction, that Louis needs to feel beneath his hands now . Instead, he shoves his wanting fingers into his pockets as his eyes continue to assess. However, scanning further up only leads Louis' heart to seize at the sight. Shoulder length coffee curls, perfectly styled around his head, serve to create the lust driving Louis' heart to start again. Yet, it's the face that's the masterpiece. Something so beautiful even Michelangelo would have wished he had sculpted it. Two emerald eyes glistening better than any other gem, nestled on top of milky shores as they compete against the strawberry fields planted in the lips of the singer's mouth.

Louis’ so stunned by this beautiful god, that he hasn’t even picked up on what song the boy has chosen to perform. Until of course, it hits him like a freight train.

And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding

Oh no.

There are many things that I
Would like to say to you but I don't know how

Louis steps away cautiously, regardless of the fact that his body is fighting with every ounce to stay. He can’t. Because somehow, someway, Louis’ already desperate in wanting to listen to the way this boy is singing. He's already addicted to how this Harry guy, is seemingly recreating a song that Louis hates so much. But Harry's singing it entirely differently. He's bringing life to something that had died long ago for Louis. It's not just note changes, and adding runs – it's renewed.  

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all, you're my wonderwall

The moment that Harry sings the word wonderwall, Louis is running. Running as far away as he possibly can. Because this is fucked. This is really fucked. In a single second, Harry Styles just threatened Louis’ entire musical career thus far, becoming his biggest competition and number one enemy - and they haven't even met. Doesn't matter though, because Louis' heard enough. Witnessed enough. There's only one way to solve an issue like this.

Louis has to take Harry down.

Chapter Text

“You’re losing your mind, Tommo. It’s finally happened,” Niall argues.

"Yeah, Louis," Liam pipes in. "I'm gonna have to agree with Niall here. This is a bit dramatic, even for you.”

Inside his apartment, Louis throws his hands in the air, “No! Harry Styles must be stopped at all costs.”

“But what if he doesn’t even want to perform for the talent scout? Hm? Then it’s a waste of our fucking time, when we could be practicing,” Niall snaps back.

Louis’ voice raises, “There’s no way a guy that talented is not gonna want to try and see where it could go? If I were him, I would do it. In fact, I am doing it.”

“You could you know, just friend him?” Liam suggests, “Talk to him about music and ask what he plans to do, like a normal person. Then you wouldn't be having this huge freakout, and maybe might find that you like the kid?"

"Really Liam? Become his friend? What are we, twelve?" Louis plops down in his chair frustratedly, "I'll have to come up with a plan myself, it seems. Can't rely on my friends for anything."

“Louis,” Niall says, “We have your back, always. But this…this is stupid. It’s not anything you need to obsess over. Let’s just focus on what we need to do to be good for our Bridge’s show, and that’s it."

Controlling himself from rolling his eyes again, Louis huffs instead, “You’re right, sorry. I’ll relax.”

Liam and Niall physically calm at Louis’ ‘submission.’ Which is humorous considering that Louis’ not going to stop, and he’s honestly surprised his friends thought he would so easily. The only difference is that now, Louis knows who he can really rely on. Himself.

After utilizing the rest of Saturday night to work on a new song for their Bridge’s performance, and after his friends are gone, Louis dwells in his room to plan. There are so many ways that he can execute Harry. There are so many actions he can employ. He writes down ideas, scribbles up outlines, and wonders why he can't seem to put this much effort into his own coursework. Regardless, Louis comes up with a start.

As Liam had so kindly offered, Louis' going to begin by befriending the enemy. A classic move made repeatedly throughout history. During this time, Louis will try his best to get close, only for the sake of gaining particular information on him. Once he's obtained what he needs, he'll use Harry’s own weaknesses against him, and in sum – sabotage the boy. And if he’s super successful, it’ll all be done without Harry ever questioning Louis in the process.

Smirking mischievously to himself, Louis thinks - keep your enemies close, right?

******************

Making use of the final day of his weekend, Louis goes to the library. It may seem strange to go during a time when he doesn't have to study, but Louis' always enjoyed the peace. Residing in a place between realistic fiction and fantasy, Louis sits at an abandoned table alone. Resting in the library has often led Louis to create worthy lyrics for his songs, as well as poems. Something about being alongside such literary masterpieces and gifted authors brings a surge of inspiration to him. If he's suffering from a form of writer's block or is feeling a little uninspired, he comes to the library. And for as long as he's been doing it, it's been the only cure he's needed.

However, today…today Louis doesn’t get far at all. And even the sight of something so profound as these books, can’t get him past the barrier encasing his mind. He’s stuck. And not that they have anything to do with one another. And not that they have any relation to one another. But Louis can't keep himself from thinking about coincidences. And how it's rather odd that after Louis saw Harry perform, he's suddenly hit with the worst brain block he’s ever had.

Yes… coincidence , Louis mulls over. Or, maybe it is Harry’s fault? After all, his presence alone has put Louis in a tailspin. Not that it logically makes sense or has any truth, but Louis can’t help wanting to blame everything on Harry. So an hour later, and a million thoughts diminished, Louis arrives to the conclusion that everything can be blamed on Harry Styles. Including Louis’ current inability to write a song.

‘Operation Destroy the Enemy,’ will commence tomorrow, Louis flippantly decides.

******************

I've been trying to figure out exactly what it is I need
Call up to listen to the voice of reason
And got the answering machine

Reckless Serenade; Arctic Monkeys

The song plays on repeat. Branding its message into Louis' mind until it's engraved in his cells for good.

What does Louis need?

For the most part, he feels on top of the world, on another level where he's nearly invincible. Yet now and then, there are moments like this one, where he's brought down - dragged under the cloud he's been sitting on. There's no particular reason it happens. There wasn't a situation this morning; there wasn't a trigger for his demise. Louis' not perfect, and sometimes when he's walking the tightrope of life, he slips.

Like today. Doubt is banging heavy on Louis’ front door, and he wants to push past this temporary anxiety. He wants to remind himself that he can do it, that he is doing it. He’s at school for music. He has a band that’s great. He’s going to be performing for a talent scout. It’s happening, whatever it is, and it’s not going to stop.

So why does doubt have to make such a flagrant appearance?

Oh right, because despite how many times people tell Louis they love his music or they love his sound. No matter how many positive reviews he has after sets, he can’t help fearing that he’s not the best. That he’s not as good as they claim him to be.

And truthfully, Louis knows why doubt is hanging around him like a sickness waiting to poison him inside. Because Harry Styles. Because Harry reminded Louis of what it’s like to not feel on top. Harry reminded Louis that he’s not the only person out there with the talent to sing, and the desire to pursue it. Harry reminded Louis that he really isn’t the best, and once again, Louis is furthered into his hate for the Freshman.

Who does he think he is? What right does he think he has?

That’s why Louis’ on his way to the lawn right now. That’s why Louis needs to go through with this plan. He has something to prove; his whole life is riding on this performance. Harry doesn’t. And while there's no guarantee that Harry will be on the lawn, it is a ridiculously nice day, and the majority of people living on campus would rather be outside than in their suffocating dorm rooms.

Louis would know, he was once one of them.

Going back to his search, Louis turns the volume of his music up in his ears, letting the words, ‘ When she laughs, the heavens hum a stun-gun lullaby,’ wash over him like waves. And of course, that’s when he finally sees Harry.

Those twinkling vixens with the shining spiral eyes
Their hypnosis goes unnoticed when she's walking by

Maybe it's just coincidence, or maybe it's no coincidence at all – that Alex Turner sings those words to Louis right as he has Harry in his line of sight. Right when he's reminded of how handsome the boy is, despite Louis’ hatred for him. Louis may lie about a lot of things, but he’d never lie about this.

He’s watching Harry from across the lawn, and the sun is basking everyone in its end of Summer heat – but no one else shines the way Harry does. The heavens must love the angel they've created below, because the sun’s rays shimmer atop Harry’s creamy skin, surrounding him in a golden halo. It's ridiculous, Louis knows. But it's true.

Harry glows brightest of all.

The song still plays in the background, adding significance to this moment in a way Louis never anticipated. Never wanted. Something feels like it’s stirring within him, and at the exact second that it makes itself known, is the exact second that Louis slams on the pause button. He doesn’t care about the way he shoves his headphones into his pocket. There’s no time for this, he warns harshly to his own heart. It’s time for putting his plan into motion, and nothing else.

Resting on a patch of lawn, Harry sits with a book in his hands and his guitar to the side. He's dressed in light blue jeans and a white t-shirt, making Louis feel marginally underdressed in his black shorts and wrinkle grey shirt. Luckily, Harry's by himself, meaning Louis doesn't feel entirely nervous about approaching him. Only a little.

“Hey, you uh…Harry Styles?”

Standing over him, the boy on the ground lifts his eyes up to meet Louis’, and it’s even worse than Louis could have imagined. Not only does his smile nearly paralyze, but the damn boy has dimples. Dimples! As if the green eyes weren’t enough?

The thing is, is that Louis has met other people with dimples, but this is somehow vastly different. Because it’s not just the dimples, it’s the hair, it’s the smile, it’s the touchable skin and the heavenly voice. And the eyes. The fucking green kaleidoscope eyes.

Louis’ doomed.

“Erm,” a ragged cadence replies, “Who’s asking?”

“Oh right. I’m Louis…Louis Tomlinson, and-”

Harry’s eyes widen at the name, “Oh shit! You’re Louis Tomlinson?! I’ve heard so much about you man, you’re a fucking legend.”

“Uh, wh- thanks?”

“Yeah, been looking forward to watching one of The Rogue’s shows coming up.”

“You are?” Louis tries to not let this change his mind about the boy. “I mean, uh…cool. Cool. Well, I just wanted to introduce myself because I saw you at the open mic night the other day. Got some serious talent there.”

Standing up, Harry’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Really? Wow, that’s such a compliment coming from you.” Extending his arms, Harry grabs Louis in a hug to express his gratitude. It startles Louis that Harry would be so forward, but he gets sidetracked when Harry's encasing him in sudden warmth.

It smells of pine needles and vanilla in the crook of Harry’s neck.

“Uh okay,” Louis mumbles awkwardly into the small space. Trying not to nuzzle against the delicious smell. Harry’s his sworn enemy, for god’s sake. Louis, pull it together, he yells at himself.

When Harry pulls away, he smiles unaware of Louis’ turmoil, “We should play together sometime.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, why not?” His grin expands, “I don’t have too many people that I can sit and jam with. And not everyone gets it, you know? Like some people can play, but they're not enjoying it like I do. I don’t know. I mean, you have your band, so I guess you don’t need me, but-”

“Harry,” Louis interrupts, deciding to use this opportunity to his benefit and get back on track. “That’d be great. Here, lemme give you my number so that we can set up a time to get together.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s about time I broaden my circle of friends,” Louis grins the fakest grin he can manage, as he hands over his cell. “Just text me whenever you’re free.”

“Wow, I appreciate it. I'll text you later."

“Yeah, text me later. Nice meeting you, Harry.”

“You too, Louis.”

As Louis walks away, he places his headphones back into his ears and finds that the same song has been playing on repeat. And of course…of course, it’s back to where it all started when Louis first saw Harry on the lawn.

When she laughs, the heavens hum a stun-gun lullaby

“Fuck you, Alex Turner,” Louis whispers begrudgingly.

******************

It takes twenty-four hours of impatient waiting until Louis' phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. It's not like he wants to hang out with Harry or anything. It's all about the plan.

Yep. The plan.

Thrill waltzes in Louis' pulse as he waits for Harry's reply. He can't wait to get close to Harry, just to ruin him in the end. And once The Rogue receives the offer from the talent scout, then Louis will never have to worry about said Harry Styles again.

xx.

However, the deepest of frowns tugs at Louis’ lips when he sees the text. Harry put xx. Louis almost feels bad. Almost. Until he convinces himself to think about having a record deal for the rest of the night. And that, well it doesn’t make it any better, but it helps.

******************

“So here I was kissing this girl, right? And so logically I turned to her, and I was like, ‘wanna go to my room?’ And you know what she said?" Niall asks Liam and Louis frustratedly.

“What?” Liam responds uninterested, giving in to Niall’s rant.

“She goes, ‘Can’t sorry, my boyfriend’s coming home tonight.’ Like what the fuck? What the honest to god, fuck?”

Louis groans, “Niall that’s a great story and all, but shut up.”

“You’re just mad Tommo because I’ve been getting laid and you haven’t.”

“Honestly? I couldn’t give a lesser fuck. But…this is practice, and you’ve been going on and on for the past ten minutes. I just want to get it started already.”

“Fine,” Niall raises his hands in defense, “But you still need to get laid.”

“I’m not sure why that matters? Or how it’s relevant?"

Surprisingly, right when Niall is about to rebuttal, Liam pipes up - his brown puppy eyes set to make Louis surrender. “Well…I mean, no offense Louis but you do get kinda testy when you haven't been with someone for a while. Like, you have all this pent-up energy you haven't been able to release. Might not hurt, you know, hooking up with someone?”

“Are you…oh my god, you’re serious? I am not that bad.”

“No offense but you kinda are,” Niall snaps.

“Wow. Alright,” Louis offendedly says. “Let’s go out Thursday night then? Just get it out of my system, all this ‘ pent-up energy' as so kindly said by Liam.”

“Thursday it is,” Niall grins, while Liam looks like he just got himself into something he’d rather not be a part of.

******************

Tenser than he’s been in a while, Tuesday ends for Louis with stress. Maybe Niall and Liam are right? Maybe he does need to find a way to let off some steam? He's been frustrated with trying to write another original, and it's taking a toll on him. Which is kinda concerning considering it's only the beginning of the semester, and Louis has all his other courses on top of that.

After sleeping off his aggravation, Louis tried arriving to Wednesday on a better note. Zayn had been around earlier in the day but went off later to work on his project. He practically lives in the studio, and though sometimes Louis wishes he had a roommate that felt more like a – well roommate – he wouldn’t want anyone else. Zayn’s been his best friend since high school, and they chose to live together for a reason. Some people take him for being mysterious because it seems like he’s always gone, and when he’s around he keeps to himself, but Louis knows better.

The truth of the matter is, is that Zayn is an absolute dork, but he's passionate as hell. And he can get so swept up in his artwork, that it’s all he eats, thinks, and dreams about. It’s always on his mind, and it’s because of this same reason that the kid is so damn talented.

It’s what he breathes for.

Speaking of passions, Louis really should be getting back to writing his song. Technically speaking, he should really be getting back to his school work, but…procrastination strikes again!

Knock. Knock.

At the sound of someone banging on the door, Louis’ eyebrows furrow. He didn’t order pizza?

Moving off the couch, Louis listens against the wooden panel if he can hear any signs of who's possibly on the other side. Unfortunately, the person isn't making a sound that Louis can detect, so he sighs. Hopefully, it's not someone trying to sell him on religion. Or girl scout cookies. He can never deny those minty chocolate bastards.

“Hi,” greets a pair of painfully plump lips.

Fuck, he forgot he invited Harry over.

“Oh, hi.”

“You okay,” he asks with genuine worry. Louis wants to laugh at his kindness, and stomp it to the ground.

“Uh, yeah,” he fumbles, running his fingers through his frizzy hair. “Sorry, just sorta forgot that you were coming over.”

“Oh, is now a bad time? I can lea-”

“Well you’re here now, aren’t you? Might as well come in,” Louis responds as he leaves the door open and heads back into his living room. When Harry steps in, closing the door behind himself, he takes off his shoes before getting comfortable on the couch. Louis doesn’t spend any time analyzing the stretch of Harry’s jeans over his painfully thick thighs, or the way his nipples are poking through his sheer black shirt. Nope, not at all.

“Nice place you got here,” Harry comments as he looks around. “I like the essence.”

Essence? Who the hell says that?

“Thanks. So uh, you thirsty or anything? Want some coffee or tea?”

“Coffee would be great actually,” Harry smiles. “Black.”

“Black coffee?”

“Yeah…” Harry says as if it’s weird he’s being questioned about it.

"The only people I know who take their coffee black are old men who have lost their taste buds. You can't actually like it like that," Louis badgers.

Harry scoffs, but it’s cheerful, “I happen to love my coffee black. And I take it as a compliment being compared to the elderly. I used to spend every Saturday night playing Bingo, they really know how to have a good time.”

Laughter flits into Louis’ words, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Well...maybe not every Saturday-”

“Oh god, Harry! Please tell me that when someone asks what cool thing you did over the summer, that that isn’t your first response?”

“No, I don’t! I tell them that I spent the summer reading, listening to my records, and knitting scarves for the homeless for this upcoming winter.”

“I can’t believe I’m sitting here with Benjamin Button. You look about seventeen, but you’re actually ninety-five.”

Harry giggles, something truly magnificent to Louis' ears. "Ninety-one if we're being precise."

Shaking his head, Louis smirks, “On that note, let me go get that black coffee for you. Do you want anything else while I’m heading to the kitchen, old man?”

"No, that it's. Thanks."

A few short minutes pass when Louis comes back out with a full coffee mug, handing it to Harry before sitting down in his blue chair opposite the boy. Upon his return, the atmosphere has changed. The banter before had kept the room feeling airy, light - but this time there’s something lurking around them, making it heavier on Louis’ shoulders. He tries to keep to the friendliness that’s been set, but nerves flutter in Louis’ stomach as he watches Harry’s lips form around the mug to drink. Wanting to avoid the interest his body is taking at the view, Louis goes in search of something to change his mind. Scanning his eyes over to the object beside Harry, Louis asks, “How long you been playing?”

It’s during that question that Harry lifts open the case, revealing his acoustic guitar. When Harry holds it within his grasp, an alarmingly fond expression takes hold of him, as he answers back. “Not that long, honestly. But music’s always been a part of my life, in some form or another. I’ve been singing since I could talk, but I picked up guitar about two years ago. Still getting used to it, but I love it so much. Do you play?”

“No, not the guitar. I learned how to play the piano, but most of the venues we play at aren’t big enough for our drum set, much less a keyboard on top of it. But one day I'd love to have space where I can have it up there with the rest of us."

A glimpse of admiration catches onto Harry’s features, “I can picture it, you sitting in front of a piano, playing some beautiful love ballad to the crowd. Be pretty amazing.”

Louis’ heart flutters against his will. Fuck you, you useless organ, he screams within, but it's really no use. His heart has been won over at the moment. At least Louis' mind is all he needs.

“Yeah it would,” Louis says while still in thought, running his nervous fingers over the fibers of his blue chair. Staring at the lines his hand leaves behind, Louis begins, “So uhm, I know you mentioned coming here to play, but all I can really contribute is singing.”

“Is that supposed to be an issue? I’d love to hear you sing while I play along.”

His cheeks feel warmer from just a second ago, but it has no relation to the words Harry’s just spoken. Nope. No. Coughing into his palm, Louis commits back to his plan, acting nonchalant, “Alright. What’re we playing then?”

Sitting up straighter on the couch, Harry positions his guitar properly in his lap, laying his hands gently on the body. “Do you know Kings of Leon?”

“Is that a serious question? Do I know Kings of Leon?” Louis scoffs, “I haven’t lived under a rock my whole life.”

Harry laughs at the snarkiness, "Fuck off. How about, Use Somebody? I know it's like their most popular one, but it's great, and chances are we both know it well enough not to look up the notes or lyrics."

“Fine with me. I’ll start on the count of three.”

After they reached three, Louis dives into the first line, swimming through the lyrics with ease. It goes well for a few beats until he almost loses his place because of Harry. Because Harry had to go cutely smirking at the sound of his voice. It doesn’t mean anything, he convinces himself, so Louis trudges on. Singing through the first verse, as Harry maintains his tempo.

It’s nothing like playing with Niall or Liam. When they play together, the air is light, stress is gone. Right here with Harry is so intense, as his chartreuse gaze flicks back and forth from Louis’ mouth to his guitar. Together in the living room, Louis’ voice echoes off of Harry’s instrument better than he expected. But it’s when Harry starts singing along that Louis really loses his shit. Because just when Louis’ singing, ‘ You know that I could use somebody ,’ Harry’s there suddenly, echoing it back.

“You know that I could use somebody.”

Harry creates a harmony with Louis that pirouettes around the room in perfect symphony. His lower ranger compliments Louis’ tenor almost too well. Like they were made to harmonize together.  

Louis stops singing at the thought.

Cutting off once he notices that Louis isn’t following along, Harry pauses to question, “You alright there, Lou?”

Lou.

"Uhm yeah," Louis tries to reply calmly. "Forgot that I had a lot of work to catch up on.”

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you from that.”

"No, it's okay. Uhm, I might call it here so I can get to that.”

“Oh alright,” Harry openly saddens. “It was fun while it lasted.”

Louis doesn't know why he feels compelled to add anything further. He should just end this where it's at, give up on this whole charade. He should just let Harry live his life, and focus on doing the same. But Harry's upset, and for some unknown reason to Louis, it invokes something within him. Something that wants to care for the other boy.

“Ah, Harry?”

“Yeah,” he says as he zips up his guitar case.

“My friends and I are going out tomorrow night if you wanna come? It’s nothing special, just going to the club probably, but you’re more than welcome to tag along.”

Seeming doubtful, Harry asks, “You sure?”

Attempting to fix the space he's already placed between them, Louis resorts to his acting skills to ensure Harry feels wanted. Fitting on a youthful grin lavished in flirty innocence, Louis replies, "Yes, of course!" He plays up his excitement, seemingly harmless enough until Harry's reaction discloses that it meant more to him than Louis intended.

Like the morning sun rising over a mountain, expanding its light across the horizon of a new day, Harry's lips spread into a smile of similar significance as he breathlessly answers,"Okay." And as if it wasn't enough, he bites his bottom lip, appearing shy at the eagerness of his response.

The whole ordeal is too much for Louis. Too beautiful. Too stunning. Too wondrous. Too much.

After Harry departs with a quick wave, Louis plops back on the couch, and questions to himself immediately. What are you doing? And for the rest of the night, he can't help repeating it again and again and again.  

What are you doing?

******************

“You invited Harry Styles to the club with us tonight?”

“Zayn, shut up.”

"You invited the person you've sworn hatred on, to the club tonight? Am I missing something here," Zayn asks with amusement?

“Shut. Up.”

“No way. No fucking way. You like him, don’t you?”

“It’s possible that I don’t hate him on the same level I did upon first meeting, but it’s still hate all the same.”

“Louis, you’re an idiot.”

“Please refer back to initial statement. Shut up.”

“Fine, I’ll leave it alone. For now.”

Standing in front of his full-length mirror in his room, Louis tries to decide on the outfit he's wearing. It's okay for the most part, but it’s not the look he’s going for. He wants to be hot. Clearly, Zayn is aware of the dilemma occurring internally, because he points for Louis to take off his jeans.

“Wear a pair of mine.”

“I’ll never fit my ass in your pants.”

“Exactly, they’ll be tight.”

Heading off to his room to retrieve a pair of ripped black jeans, Zayn hands them to Louis with a smirk. "Here."

As Zayn predicted, they’re tight – but all in the right ways. Louis switches his shirt for a maroon t-shirt that shows off his collarbones and chest tattoo, and lets Zayn fix his hair up into a faux quiff. When he checks back in the mirror, Louis won’t deny that he looks pretty fucking good, having his body on display exactly how he wanted.

At the sight, Zayn wolfishly smiles, “You’re gonna break some hearts tonight.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door. Harry’s arrived.

Grabbing the door to introduce himself, Zayn runs off to let Harry in. When Louis finally figures he’s ready enough to walk out, he leaves for the living room where Harry and Zayn are chatting. However, when Harry sees him, his mouth physically drops and Louis stalls. He didn’t know that could happen in real life.  

"Wow, Lou," Harry says once he picks his jaw up from the floor. "You look…wow, you look so good."

Pink flowers across Louis’ cheeks, “Oh, uh thanks. You do too,” he replies, which isn’t a lie. Harry looks delicious in his tight black jeans and red plaid shirt that’s buttoned down to his bare, toned abs. So much so, that Louis wants to absolutely devour him. Instead, Louis bites the inside of his cheek so hard it bleeds.

Good alternative.

“Alright fuckers,” Zayn snaps. “Let’s go! Niall and Li are already at the club waiting.”

“Right,” Louis agrees, “Let’s go.”

Leading the herd, Zayn travels ahead, leaving Louis to trail behind with Harry. Louis plans on easing the tension by making some stupid joke, but when he glances up at the other boy who’s somehow gotten significantly closer to him, he panics. Harry is smirking at him, and it's an entirely different look from any of the ones before. Because before, it was solely platonic. Before, they were barely even friends. Yet, right here, Louis is standing under the intensity of Harry’s attention, and finding that platonic is far from the reason for the gleam in his eye. Nope, tonight it’s entirely something else.

Tonight - it’s lust.

******************

Arriving at the club suppresses Harry temporarily.

Once they all meet up, Niall nearly tumbles over when Harry introduces himself, and even Liam has to hide his surprise when the curliest of the group admits his name. Louis should have warned them, but oh well. For the first hour, the five socialize with one another, and for the most part, Harry being there is no issue to Louis. Afterwards, is when it all goes downhill. Afterwards, when Niall pours shot after shot into Louis' mouth, and when Harry keeps giving him that hungry look, is when Louis breaks. Drinking another glass to drown out the non-hateful emotions arising within him.

“I can’t believe we’re partying with Harry Styles tonight,” Liam balks. “What’s gotten into you? Did you finally take my advice?”

“Something like that, Li.”

Zayn whispers something into Liam’s ear, creating a diversion for Louis to escape the interrogation. Good thing Liam is so blinded by his love for Zayn, that he doesn’t notice anything else around him when he’s in the other’s vicinity. Maybe those two will finally figure their shit out , Louis hopefully wonders as he exits.

Louis' freedom, however, only lasts so long when he's stumbling to refill his glass of whatever is the bartender's special, and he senses a presence behind him at the counter.

“You look so good tonight, Lou. Fuck. ”

When Louis hears the voice, he doesn't have to guess who the person is, pressing themselves nearly against his back. Harry is drunk, but despite his words and proximity, he hasn’t actually reached out and touched Louis. He hasn’t put his hands on his body...yet.

And fucking shit, because that’s all Louis wants.

"Harry, I think your margaritas are catching up with you."

“Maybe, but it’s true. Drunk or sober - you're stunning,” the words rush from Harry’s wasted lips and pour into Louis’ empty heart. Filling him up with intoxicated love. Panicking, Louis turns around to scan for any trace of a lie, but Harry’s emerald embers reveal nothing but truth. Shit. This is going in the wrong direction, Louis starts thinking. He wants Harry as his friend, nothing more than that. Even though his body would love more than that, and his heart - damn his heart, is begging for more than that. Louis can’t. Louis has to ignore all else, and do what he needs to do for the plan.

“Thanks,” Louis coughs, “I think, uh, I’m gonna-”

“Wanna dance,” Harry interrupts before Louis can walk away.

“What’d you say?”

“Dance? With me?”

“Oh, I’m good. I don’t-”

Sooner than he can finish, Harry’s mouth drops in an ‘o’ of sudden understanding. “Oh my god, I get it.”

Louis’ head tilts, “What?”

"You're straight. That's why you've denied my advances."

Laughter explodes from Louis’ lungs like a volcanic eruption, “No, no I’m not! I’m as gay as they come, promise. I just-”

Harry hardly is phased as he continues his assault of questions, “Boyfriend?”

“No."

“Crazy ex?”

“Fuck’s sake Harry, no.”

"Well, I'm just trying to figure out why you’re pushing me away. Unless of course, it’s just me? In which case...in which case, I’ll let you go,” he offers dishearteningly.

Say it. Tell him to leave you alone. Tell him that you hate him. That he’s annoying and dumb and stupid and beautiful and talented and sexy and…wait. Wait! Stop! Fuck, Louis - get it together! We can do this. Just say it.

“I…I don’t know.”

Disappointment comes easily to Harry at Louis’ response. “Well, find me when you figure it out."

It comes as no surprise to Louis when Harry leaves after that. Not one bit. What does come as a surprise, however, is the way Louis feels about it as he watches Harry go.

Empty.

******************

The only place Louis escapes to is music. It’s the only thing that brings peace into the chaos of his life. It's the one solace Louis has always had and thought he always would. Music has always been Louis’ closest friend. Except for today, it feels more like a traitor. Because every single song reminds Louis of him.

Every single lyric reminds Louis of Harry.

It’s not fair. Harry shouldn’t be impacting Louis’ life the way he has, and Louis doesn’t understand a single ounce of it. He doesn’t understand it at all. And ever since Thursday night, all Louis has felt is guilt.

In an attempt to get away from all things Harry, Louis goes out for a walk. Fresh air is its own kind of medicine, and sometimes all Louis needs are a few deep inhales to expel the stress. Outside, September has brought with it a breeze that cools the remaining summer heat off of Louis’ skin. And just as it comes to press upon him in the lightest of touches, it leaves just as fast, taking with it his frustration.

An hour passes of Louis wandering around town until he stops at Bridge's Bookstore. They make the best tea around, and while he wanted to separate himself from music, he is curious to know if Bridgette has any more information on the talent scout. Louis can't help himself, honestly. And to be fair, the bookstore is on his way back to his apartment, so it's not like he's going out of his way.

Though to be fair, Louis would still stop even if he had to walk another mile or so to make it.

The bookstore is on the corner of Third Street, in an older building that's seen better days. From the outside, it isn't all that enticing. The letters of the name are faded, and the building could use a few new layers of paint, but it's Louis' favorite place regardless. Entering in through the front door, the room lays out into a bookstore, with a café in the far right corner. Like the outer, the inside has an old but homey ambiance. Like walking into a grandparents home, and feeling an instant kind of comfort from just a single smell.

Bridge’s, however, has more than just that. At night, they close off the front half of the store where the books and tea reside, and open up the back half that’s locked during the day. It’s small for a venue, but it’s the most popular place in town on a Saturday evening. Because the back half is where the night comes alive. Where teenagers and college students and adults congregate to hear the best of the local talent. Where Louis shifts into The Rogue and plays his songs until his voice is hoarse and his feet are bruised from jumping on the stage all night.

It's where Louis comes to be himself in the rawest sense of the word - unafraid and unhinged.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Bridgette says as soon as she spots Louis coming to the counter. A few years ago, Bridgette took over the shop from her mother when she had been well into her forties, though most people could never tell. With her long, ashy blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, Louis makes his way over to her, happy to talk with his favorite person from around this area.

“No need for name callin’ there, Bridge.”

She playfully rolls her eyes, “Whatever you say, Louis. Yorkshire today?”

“You know it.”

As the woman starts to make Louis’ order, she returns to their conversation. “So…anything new and exciting you have to share?”

“Not particularly. I actually came to see if you had anything new to tell me.”

“I knew you didn’t come just for me,” she laughs. “Honestly? Other than the fact that I know the scout is coming, I don’t know anything else. But the lineup is solidified for that night, so that’s good. It’ll be a great show.”

Louis’ eyes raise, “The lineup is filled? How many other acts are performing?”

"It's gonna be four altogether. I had three at first, but this young guy came in the other day, and I couldn't let him go, so I squeezed him in too."

“Young guy? Think I know him?”

Pouring the tea into a mug, Bridgette shrugs her shoulders, “Maybe? Think his name was Henry? No…Harvey?”

“Harry?” Louis questions in fear.

“Yeah! That’s it. Harry! Superb player. He’ll be playing right before you guys come out.”

“He’s…he’s playing before us?”

"Yep, he's the third act of the night, and you guys are forth! But that's better, you always want to be the ones to end the show. More time and better chance people are drunk enough to sing along."

It was not better. Not at all. And typically, Louis would agree that he always likes to be the last performer. Always likes to have his fans wait for him until they're desperate by the time he comes out. But Harry playing before Louis means that the talent scout will see Harry first. Meaning that Harry will grab the guy’s attention before he's even heard of The Rogue. Meaning that Harry will get Louis' contract deal, and all of Louis' aspirations will be for nothing.

Fuck.

“Here’s the change Bridge, I have to get going. Thanks for the tea.”

“Course love. Stop back soon!”

And to think, Louis was feeling sorry for Harry. Louis was feeling empathetic towards him. And all along Harry was just trying to steal it all out from under him! Which...is pretty amusing considering Louis was doing the same. But! Louis was going to back down. Louis was going to give up. He was going to raise his white flag and call it a draw, but not anymore. No.

Harry just reignited Louis’ hate for him, and now nothing is going to keep him from taking the curly-haired boy down.

This is war.

******************

“He’s playing before us?” Liam asks again in shock.

“Yes, and you two didn’t believe me when I said he was gonna try for the talent scout. Now look! He’s gonna get the fucking record deal before we can even open our mouths to sing!”

Pacing in his living room, Niall and Liam stand dumbfounded at the information Louis had passed along. He couldn't stop himself; he needed to have an emergency meeting. If this is going to work, Louis needs his friends involved.

“I don’t like this, but I also don’t like the idea of Harry getting the chance before us,” Niall admits. “Nothing against him, but we’re closer to the end of college than he is. We need this. He has time. He can wait.”

Louis nods, “Now are you guys with me?”

“I mean," Liam sighs, "I guess I agree. It's just not something I'm entirely comfortable being a part of, but maybe we can find a way to kindly ask him to step out?"

"Liam, do you listen to yourself when you talk, because you sound absurd? Either you're in, or you're out. There's no room for making friends. This is the start of war."

“Fuck it. Fine, I’m in. Just don’t come running to me when this all goes to shit.”

Niall glances from Liam on the couch to Louis in his chair and sighs, “This is going to suck, isn’t it?”

"No! This is gonna be great cause we're finally gonna have our dreams come true. So rearrange those frowns, and let’s get to planning.”

Niall gets down on the floor, while Liam faces his body in the direction of Louis. It takes longer than it should, hours of frustration and doubt but eventually - it exists. Etched in black pen, scribbled onto a crumpled sheet Louis ripped from his writing journal, it states:

1. Befriend Harry
2. Hit him where it hurts
3. Convince him to not perform at the show

This Monday, ‘Operation Destroy Styles,' will be in full effect. Niall and Liam are aiming to make Harry feel welcomed in their group, while Louis' goal is to make amends. It's simple but effective. And with the list placed on his night table as a reminder of the competition he's going to win, Louis falls asleep better than he has in weeks.

******************

’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood
You know it used to be mad love
So take a look what you've done
’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

Bad Blood; Taylor Swift

If there's one female artist Louis detests, it's Taylor Swift. Regardless, he can't deny the fact that listening to Bad Blood on his way to start the new operation, is making him feel marginally more powerful. Like he's suddenly in control of his life, and of the cards, he's been dealt by fate. And while Harry and Louis didn't have ‘mad love' before the sabotage took place, the bad blood element still entirely applies.

’Cause baby, now we've got bad blood, hey!

Monday’s plan started like this – Niall ran into Harry on his way to class, because Niall realized that they always pass each other in the mornings. Niall waved, making Harry feel like a friend. After, Liam found Harry in the gym, which led to a small chat about weight lifting. Liam then welcomed Harry to tag along whenever Liam’s working out, making Harry feel invited. After their work, Liam and Niall both notified the others of their success, via their group chat: bye felicia - which Niall had so kindly named.

Now, at around three in the afternoon, it’s Louis’ turn to play.   

Currently, he's departing from his last class, when he spots Harry on the lawn. It's another pleasant day, so Louis took a wild guess where he might be. Perched under some shade, Harry's sitting on a red blanket strumming away at his guitar. As opposed to the last time Louis made this same walk, there are a few girls around Harry, listening to him sing. Harry's unaware of his effect, as he lets every word carelessly free from his watermelon lips, stealing another heart from his adoring fans.

A thought quickly passes by: Maybe Harry’s not as gay as Louis thought?

Not that it matters or anything, Louis notes. Redirecting to the plan, Louis makes his way over to his target just as Harry catches his sight. It's awkward, not just because there are a bunch of curious eyes now turned to see him coming, but because Harry stopped playing as he was.

“Er, hi,” Louis calls out once he’s close enough to not scream, “Uh, Harry? Can we talk for a sec?”

From Harry's position on the ground, he stares up at Louis, taking some time before he complies. It's strange with all the girls eyeing him suspiciously, so Louis motions for him and Harry to stand a few paces away from the group. It’s better if they can’t be heard, in case this doesn’t end well. When Harry seems to follow as instructed without a fight, Louis sees it as a sign of hope.

“Harry look, I just want to say-”

"Hold on," Harry interrupts. "I want to say something first. I shouldn't have done what I did to you at the bar. You were being nice by inviting me out, and I was a huge dick trying to take advantage of that. I know we were never really friends, to begin with, but I'd like us to try again. If you…I mean if you want to? But if not that's okay. I just wanted you to know that I am. I'm truly sorry, Lou."

Louis’ mouth is slack. Shocked at Harry’s apology, Louis doesn’t even have to say anything to convince Harry of what he wants. Harry literally did all the work. Wow. Louis couldn’t have planned it better if he tried.

Almost too happily, Louis says, “It’s okay! I was actually about to say the same thing, so yes...I’m good with trying again.”

Harry's smile shouldn't be as heart-stopping as it is. "So friends?"

Glimpsing up into his gorgeous face, taking in Harry’s dainty curls and clover eyes, Louis shoves past the wave of emotions that rise beyond what he can handle, and grins. “Friends.”

“Great! And again, Lou. I’m really sorry.”

“Harry, it’s fine.”

Harry beams like literal sunshine, seeming too joyous with this outcome. Louis’ curiosity peaks at the behavior, but instead of addressing it, he just says his goodbye. Harry waves as he heads back to his group, while Louis changes course to head back home.

It’s all good and well that Harry is happy and that he said sorry – but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still third in the lineup. It doesn’t change the fact that Harry is currently his biggest competition. So in reality, Harry’s ‘sorry’ means nothing to him. Because it doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t change anything.

Pressing play on his phone to where he left off in the song, Louis begs for his music to fix this for him. To fix all his problems for him. As Louis’ learned over time though, music can comfort his wounds, but it can’t heal them. No matter how many nights he spends praying for them to, they only ever let him down.  

Band-aids don't fix bullet holes

You say sorry just for show
You live like that, you live with ghosts

******************

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Zayn says from his side of the couch.

Louis takes another bite of the Chinese they ordered for dinner, "Why would I joke about something like this?"

Zayn scoffs, “Louis, Harry is a human being. He is a person. Remember that while you’re out there planning ways to destroy him, yeah? Aside from the fact that this is probably going to end up hurting you more in the end than him…though you honestly deserve it at this point.”

“Chill. It’s fine. I have everything under control.” Leaning against his chair, Louis presses the play button to the movie they're going to watch, and gets back to munching on his meal. He knows Zayn is upset with him, and that's why he's hoping the movie will keep him from saying anything else.  

“Louis? I know you don't want to hear this, so this is the last thing I'll say…but just remember what it was like for you freshmen year."

“Dylan was a prick.”

“Are you any better?”

Awkwardness fills the space between them until the film begins, altering the climate from tension, to the uncomfortable silence that's sprouted in its place.

What’s more annoying is that Zayn’s right - to an extent. Dylan Harper was a senior the year The Rogue formed together. He was his own act, and he had been the king of the music throne, long before Louis came and stole the crown. Dylan fought tooth and nail to keep his place, but eventually, there were no more fights left. Every venue that The Rogue was playing at in Bloomington was packed. While Dylan’s supporters dwindled in number. Honestly, it was out of Louis' hands.

The people got what the people wanted, and Dylan just couldn’t accept that.

In some ways, Louis can see how this parallels with him and Harry. He does. Except, Louis would graciously hand over the keys to the kingdom if it seemed that curly was next in line for the honor. What he's not willing to give up though, are his own dreams. Having a record deal is everything Louis' wanted, and it goes beyond what happened with him and Dylan those two years ago.

It's so much different, and Zayn doesn't get it.

While Louis is chewing his sesame chicken, he sends a text to the boy he seems unable to stop thinking about, and smirks when he gets an immediate response.

It’s almost too easy.

******************

They meet up at B-Town Diner on Tuesday for lunch. It’s the only diner Louis thinks is good, even though a few people beg to disagree. As Louis grabs a seat at an available booth, he waits for Harry to arrive. In the meantime, the waitress brings him a cup of tea while he plays a game on his phone to appear busy. It especially helps for those times when Louis doesn’t want to be bothered by anyone else.

“Hey,” a deep voice penetrates Louis’ thoughts, “Sorry I’m late.”

Closing his phone, Louis glances up at Harry as he gets down into the seat opposite him. He’s wearing a faded rolling stone shirt, with a pair of light skinny jeans. It’s the most casual look Louis’ seen on him thus far, and he still looks like he came off the runway. “It’s alright, glad you could make it.”

"I haven’t been here yet, but I've heard this place is great."

“It is, everything’s good here.”

“Then I’ll get one of everything.”

Louis tries not to laugh and indulge Harry’s ego, but a chuckle erupts despite his efforts. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I sense your doubt, but I promise you, on a night where I’m drunk enough I could genuinely eat it all.”

“You say that now. Although, Niall? He honestly could eat it all, drunk or not. He's a human trash can, I swear."

Harry giggles, “Niall seems like a great person. So does your friend Liam, I saw them both the other day.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Harry’s about to continue when the waitress comes to take their orders. Louis goes with the pancakes, while Harry gets black coffee and an omelet.

“You know,” Louis carries on once she’s walked away, “The point of a diner is not to buy the healthiest option they’ve got.”

The boy flushes red as he's nibbling on his bottom lip - a nervous habit Louis is noticeably enjoying. "Sorry. I'm trying to be better at what I'm eating cause I've put on some weight since I got here. Don't want to be another statistic."

“The freshman fifteen is a rite of passage that all students should experience.”

“Are you only saying that because you’re one of those who gained weight when you got here?”

"No!" Louis sass's, "I honestly didn't, but that's because I have a fast metabolism."

“Oh lucky you.”

“Hey,” Louis teasingly snaps, “No need for your jealousy.”

“You’re right,” Harry nods. “I am jealous. You look great.”

Shifting from peach to pink, Louis’ cheeks tinge. Not because of Harry’s comment or anything. It’s because it suddenly got very warm in the restaurant. Yep. “Uh, thanks. Well, speaking of good ole’ college. What made you want to come to Indiana?”

"Honestly? I live only an hour away, so I get to go home whenever I want. Plus, I love music, so it was an easy decision in applying here since their programs are some of the best around these parts of the states. What about you?"

"Same reason really - they have a good music production program. When I was in my senior year of high school, I was gonna go to Chicago and just perform on street corners until someone noticed me, but my family said no. I wasn't going to listen, but I ran into a family friend after that, who had done some music production when they were younger. They told me that I should have a backup plan and that if I couldn't get into the industry with singing, I could still get in through other ways. Obviously, that makes a lot of sense, so I applied to schools that offered music production as one of their majors. I actually got into a school in Chicago, but compared to Indiana, the student loans would have been significantly worse."

“Are you upset that you’re not in the city?”

Debating the question as he shakes his head side to side, Louis replies, “Not anymore. The first year I was here, yes. All I could think about was Chicago, but then I started making friends and making a name for myself on campus. And speaking of campuses, no college in the city is gonna have a proper campus like ours, with football games every Friday and this sense of…unity? Not to mention, being close to my family for a few more years isn’t so bad. I’m also an hour from here, south. So going back home and seeing my siblings and my mom is nice bonus.”

“I like being on a proper campus, too,” Harry emphasizes. “And yeah, I get to see my mom quite a bit, which is good cause I know she's lonely. My older sister ran off to Los Angeles for fashion or whatever, though now she’s a blogger, which I think suits her better. I don’t know. And my mom is on her own since she and my dad split a few years back. I know eventually I'd like to live in the city too, but it makes it hard to think about leaving her behind sometimes."

“Same. My mom remarried a year ago, so it's not so bad anymore. But there are eight of us kids altogether, and I know when I’m around it’s just more help that she gets. Dan works a lot too, so she’s taking care of them by herself most of the time.”

“Eight,” the other boy echoes in amazement.

"Yeah, and two sets of twins. Pretty crazy, I know. And for the longest time I only had sisters, until two years ago when she had the last set of twins, and one of them was another boy.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun, to be honest.”

“It is. It definitely is.”

The waitress comes by with their food, and their conversation is halted until after they take their first bites of their meal. Harry initiates the discussion again when he moans aloud at his first taste. “Wow, this is great!”

“Told you,” Louis smirks.

"Yes. Yes, you did. Oh, Lou! Do you have any other shows coming up this week by the way?"

“Saturday I’m playing at Caroline’s, but it’s just one song for open mic.”

“Yeah, I was gonna put my name on the list for that night, but decided not to. I’m surprised they’re doing it on a Saturday this time, I thought it was always Fridays?”

"It is Fridays, except for when there are football games. Then they switch it to Saturdays so that it doesn't overlap."

Harry hums around his bite of food, “Oh, there’s a game this Friday?”

“Yep.”

Staring at Louis oddly, Louis questions Harry’s behavior with a mouthful of food, “What?”

“Would you…would you wanna go?”

“To the game?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh, I mean I guess?”

“You guess?”

“ Sure. Is that better?”

Harry throws his balled up napkin at Louis’ face, “Mean.”

Chuckling at Harry’s reaction, Louis mockingly says, “Yes Harry, I’d love to accompany you to the game.”

This time, Harry giggles into a smile, “Well if you insist.”

Laughing together, the two get caught up in conversation once more. To Louis’ shock, they end up sitting for another hour at the shop. Just them, their drinks, and their empty plates. When it occurs to Louis how well this lunch is going, he vividly hears Zayn’s voice repeat in the back of his mind.

Harry’s a human being. He’s a person.

Washing down the negativity with his last sip of tea, Louis pays no mind to Zayn’s ideologies. Louis’ first step of the plan is going well, and that’s all he cares to worry about.

******************

Thursday nights are meant for band practice, but since Niall and Liam aren’t playing at the open mic night with Louis, the three have decided to change up plans. Instead, they’re currently at a bar, Zayn included, talking about something stupid like always.

“I’m just saying,” Liam comments across the table to Niall, “That Britney Spears is a legend. A classic. No matter what, she’s always going to be on top.”

“That’s bullshit,” Niall argues aggressively, "She lip syncs, so your whole point is invalid.”

Zayn and Louis give each other a look that they've shared one too many times before. A look that says they can't believe they're even having this debate. Louis shakes his head while he laughs, as Zayn nods his head along. Yeah, they've been through this way too much.

“Boys,” Louis interrupts, “Let’s talk about something else. Like…?”

“Wonderwall,” Niall fills in.

“Wonderwall?” Zayn questions the same time that Liam responds, “Oh god, not this again.”

“Yes Wonderwall,” Niall smirks, “The song that Louis supposedly hates.”

“Niall,” Louis says, “It’s like you’re looking for a fight tonight.”

“Wait…you hate Wonderwall? As in Wonderwall by Oasis?” asks Zayn.

"Yes! Okay, fuck we already went over this."

“Not my fault Niall brought it up. But wow, I didn’t know you hated any music. You’re like…always yelling at us for being too picky or too mainstream.”

“Alright, alright. I get it. I’m a horrible person. Now, some other conversation, please.”

Liam chuckles, "Fine. I know none of you are gonna go, but I'm tailgating the football game tomorrow, and you guys are more than welcome to come if you want."

“Where’re you going,” Niall wonders aloud.

“Going to ΑΧΩ, Sophia invited me.”

“Oh, isn’t she the president of the sorority?”

“Yeah,” Liam blushes, which Louis notes, Zayn is focusing on a little too intensely.

“Well Liam,” Louis comments, “I’m going to be there, too. I’m not tailgating anywhere, at least I don’t have plans to.”

“Who’re you going with?”

“Harry.”

“Oh,” Niall replies, “Is that like, part of the plan?”

“Wait,” Zayn snaps, “You both are in on it, too?”

“Well…kinda,” Liam answers.

“You’re all idiots, I swear.”

“Zayn, another time. And to answer your question Niall, no it’s not part of the plan. But it does help. Harry actually ended up asking me to go with him.”

“Well, that’s good I guess,” Niall laments.

“Yeah…anyway, I’m hungry. Who’s ordering the wings?”

Liam gets suckered into ordering the food, while Zayn leaves with him to buy himself another drink at the bar. Louis sits with Niall, taking another sip of his half-empty beer when he looks up and realizes that Niall’s face is forlorn. “Ni? You okay?"

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You just…you ever feel like you’re on the wrong side of an argument?”

“You’re talking about Harry, aren’t you?”

"It's like...I get it, Louis I do. We've worked our asses off for two years, and now there's an opportunity we've never had before. And if things go well, this could be life-changing for us. But at the same time, is it something to be proud of if we had to step on a few others to get to the top?"

“It’s not like we’re destroying him. We’re just doing what we can to can convince him not to perform at the show.”

“Why can’t we just ask him to switch spots, or just tell him honestly how we feel?”

"One, switching spots does us no good because he's still performing. If we go first, we have a better chance, but in the end he'll still be our competition. So it's easier not having him there at all. And I don't think talking to him will get us anywhere. He's passionate about his music, why would he put that aside simply because we tell him too?"

“Can you maybe just give it a try? This Friday when you’re at the game, can you try bringing it up, and see where it goes? If you feel like it’s not getting anywhere, then drop it, but at least try. For me?”

Louis doesn’t answer right away, trying to remain defiant towards this idea, but Niall is a force Louis can never defeat. “Fine, Nialler,” he sighs in surrender. “I’ll try for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I make no promises.”

“I know, but I’ll feel better knowing you at least tried to explain it to him.”

The boys come back with more drinks and a plate of wings, disrupting any further comments from being said between the two. After their conversation, however, Louis can't get himself back into the swing of things. He can't enjoy hanging with his friends as he had before.

Why can’t everyone else see it like Louis?

It's not that big of a deal in his opinion. He's not on a path to ruin Harry for the rest of his life. He's only doing enough to get Harry not to perform. Is that really so bad? But Louis made a promise just now, and for the sake of his friendship, he's going to keep his word. He'll try talking to Harry. He will. But if Harry even slightly seems to object to the idea, Louis is dropping it once and for all.

******************

A mass of red and white brings the campus to life. Bitterly, Louis groans at the view. Since the beginning, Louis has hated going to football games particularly because he hated the sport itself. Occasionally, he had gone for the tailgating before and the parties after – but recently, even that holds no interest to him. However, Harry’s a freshman, and football games are part of the whole college experience. It’s no surprise that he wants to go. What’s more surprising is that Louis said yes.

Yet here he is on a Friday night, meeting up with the one person he detests.

“Lou, hey!”

Moving to his right, Louis plants a winning smile over his heavy pout, to the boy whose dimpled grin is already waiting to greet him. "Hey, Harold."

“Harold?”

“I don’t have a nickname for you, that’s the best I could come up with on such short notice.”

Harry’s confused brows smooth into happiness as he chuckles, “Is it really a nickname if it’s longer than the actual name?”

“It is if I say it is.”

“Oh okay. I see how it is.”

Standing as a prominent landmark on his face, Harry’s grin remains as they walk together towards the stands in search of a place to sit. Louis is immensely dreading this game, but when he glances over at Harry, he can’t defeat the fond grin that builds at the other boy’s illuminating excitement.

“You ever been to a game before?”

Harry holds off answering until they’ve sat down, “Yeah, once in high school. Didn’t care much to go back then.”

“Oh? You weren’t Mr. Popular like you are now?”

“I can’t say I was, no.”

"Well,” Louis says, “It seems the tables have turned for you, young Harold. Girls haven't stopped fawning over you since you stepped foot on this campus.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Yeah well, that’s because they think they have a chance.”

“A chance at what?”

“A chance with me.”

Leaning his head, Louis counters. “Don’t they?”

“No, not at all.”

"Well, what if I said all the boys have been falling over themselves for you too?”

“Wouldn’t make a difference.”

“And why’s that?”

Harry sustains his focus on Louis' pacific orbs, not pulling his gaze even when he's bumped into from behind. It's unnerving. And Louis, who's keeping just as attentive as the boy with curls, vaguely wonders in the back of his mind. Why did he push the conversation this way? Why did he want to hear this bit of information, though he can’t do anything with it?

“I,” Harry’s pouty plump lips begins to release effortlessly, “I like someone else.”

I like someone else.

It rattles Louis like an earthquake. The implications of who it could mean. Of who someone could be. Louis has a pretty good guess, but he doesn't want to know for sure. There's no room for love in this game they're playing. Which is why he needs to move away from this topic before he does something he'll regret. Needing a distraction, Louis suddenly remembers his promise to Niall earlier. Maybe this is a good time to discuss it?

“Er, Harry?”

“Yeah,” the boy lustfully responds, unaware that the conversation is taking a turn.

Louis swallows, trying not to be swayed by the sight, “I uh, I had something I wanted to ask.”

It’s apparent by Harry’s body language that he doesn’t pick up the transition. Sitting next to Louis with wide, unbelieving eyes and mouth slightly agape, he questions hopefully, “Yeah?”

He thinks this conversation is going somewhere it isn’t. Change the course. Change the course. “You see…we uhm,” Harry starts nodding impatiently along. Louis holds his breath in fear, till the words gush from him without any care in how they’ll be received, “We...we’re playing the same night as you, at Bridges Bookstore. We, I mean The Rogue... and I don’t know if you know or not, but there’s gonna be a…”

Throughout Louis’ explanation, he watches as Harry physically deflates. Louis knows what Harry wanted to hear, but Louis can’t give him that. When Louis stalls again, Harry pushes half-heartedly, “A what, Lou?"

For some reason, Louis doesn't want to tell him the truth. It's horrible, but if Louis tells Harry that there's going to be a talent scout, Louis' sure he'll say no. But maybe if he lies and says it's something else, then Harry would be more apt to compromise?

“Someone important, a…like my mom?”

“Your mom’s coming to the show?”

"Yeah…? And I was wondering if maybe you could back out? Just cause she already thinks I'm a terrible singer, and I think that if she hears you, she's going to just…I don't know? I just think she's going to use it against me, that I'm not as good as you. And force me to switch majors, and…and…"

Lies. Lies. Lies.

"Oh Lou, I'm so sorry to hear that! Would your mom really do that?"

“Yeah,” Louis gulps, suddenly in need of room to breathe. “Yeah, it's pretty hard being around her sometimes."

More lies. Louis’ mom loves his music, and couldn’t support him more if she tried.

Laying a firm hand on Louis’ left thigh, Harry stares promisingly into Louis’ eyes, “I’ll see if Bridgette can get me on for the next day, yeah?”

"You'd do that for me?"

Lifting his hand onto the side of Louis’ face, Harry rubs his timid thumb into Louis’ stunned cheek. “I’d do anything for you, Lou.”

Anything for you, Lou.

Anything for you, Lou.

The hardwiring in Louis' brain malfunctions, completely and truly - combusts. Louis doesn't know what to say, how to respond, but he's saved thankfully when the marching band suddenly picks up. The brash music pulls them from this moment that had surrounded them like a snow globe. Leaving Louis in shocked silence, and Harry nervously running his fingers through his hair. Eventually, Louis coughs, and finds a way for them to talk though it's stilted at best. Anything though, to clear away the remnants of emotions that had temporarily bubbled.

Throughout the game, Louis does manage to enjoy his time with Harry. But in every laugh they share, every touch they make, every gaze they hold, there's an undercurrent of tension that flows beneath. Pooling around every word that lingers a little too long in Louis' heart. Staying, as a small reminder of what happened earlier. A reminder that they've never really been friends, and whether they even are now is highly debatable.

Louis just hopes that whatever this is, dries out soon, before he finds himself drowning in it later.

Chapter Text

Mornings are meant for sleep and tea. However, Saturday morning provides Louis with neither of those things. After the game had ended last night, he and Harry said their goodbyes, and Louis didn't even attempt to find a party afterward. He went home alone, dwelling in the lies that he made.

Louis didn't feel any better when he woke up. Especially when he took note that Zayn was already gone, leaving him an empty fridge and dirty dishes to accompany himself with. If he weren't so hungry, he'd stay in bed. However, Louis needs food to live, so he drags his tired bones to the dining hall on campus. It's not his favorite place to eat, but it's close, and it's cheap. Going through the lines, Louis piles on an array of food, grabs a cup of tea, and finds a faraway place to sit.

Residing at the furthest table in the corner, Louis munches through his meal in peace. Or at least for a few minutes, until a large body shadows over him from the side.

“Lou?”

Even when he tries to get away, he can't.

“Harold. Nice to see you again so soon,” it’s meant to be sarcastic, but Harry either doesn’t realize or brushes it under the rug.

“Yeah, mind if I sit here?”

“What? You don’t have your hoard of women to sit with today?”

Harry’s smile falters ever just so, “No. And uh, haven’t really made too many friends other than you. And well Niall and Liam, I guess. I saw your friend Zayn the other day, but he gave me a strange look, so I don’t think he counts.”

“Zayn has separation anxiety, and doesn’t like people that he thinks are taking me away from him.”

Harry gawks, “You’re joking.”

Louis maintains his act well past the point of necessary, though eventually smirking, "Of fucking course, I'm joking Harold! No, but he is strange. Don't mind him. And yes, take a seat before your Bambi legs give out."

“Bambi legs?”

“Yeah,” Louis informs as Harry sits across from him. “Because on the surface they look long and beautiful, but if someone watches close enough, they’ll see that you don’t know how to work them at all. Fumbling all over the place like baby Bambi.”

“I’m not that bad!”

Louis snorts, "You're that bad, but it's okay. You're still cute."

Abort. Abort. Abort.   

Harry pauses, his eyes shifting to the table before rising back up to swallow Louis in their color. “Well that’s good to know, I guess,” he utters with rosy cheeks.

Removing himself from the path he’s veered on, Louis digresses, “Yeah, that’s what friends are for.”

Harry couldn’t look more disappointed if he tried, “Right...friends.”

They eat with minimal conversation, but of the little Louis says, it’s another point or reference towards them being friends. Louis can tell that Harry’s fed up by the time that he takes his last bite and leaves. It was overdone, but Louis had to make sure his message was clear. No fog, no blurriness, no speck or even dot. No writing between the lines.

They can only be friends.

******************

Approaching sooner than Louis predicted, the clock reveals its time for open mic night. Louis' been off since his breakfast with Harry. He should have spent his day writing new music, but all he could think about was that damn, curly-headed idiot. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Why did he have to be so talented? And why can't Louis go along with his plan without being so affected by him?

Every step Louis takes, Harry pushes him right back - tangoing them in this limbo of emotions.

Whatever the case, Louis needs to get a grip. Grab hold of himself and his heart, and get back into the game. Their performance is slowly inching closer, and the reality is, is that Harry's still playing that night. If he wants Harry to back out, he's going to need to do better than come up with lies about his mom. Which...what even?

Tomorrow, Louis will worry about it. Tonight, he gets to play.

In the past, when Louis performed at open mic night, he would usually bring his portable keyboard with him on stage. It’s been awhile since it's been just him because Niall almost always is there to back him up on guitar. Though it would have been fun to have his friends there, it will be a nice change for Louis to be on his own again.

With his keyboard in hand, Louis gladly makes his way to Caroline's. A timid chill is in the air due to the sun’s disappearance, that invokes Louis’ skin to flush with color. The cold is welcomed against him, awakening his senses by the time Louis’ made it to the designated place. With twenty minutes left to spare, no less.

“By yourself tonight?”

A voice calls over to Louis upon his entrance, turning his head to the familiar sound with a wide grin, “Hey Perrie! Yeah just me this time. Gonna prob sing one cover and then get out of here.”

“Oh, trying to leave already? You have a hot date later or somethin’?” her blue eyes wink.

“I wish. No, just gonna try working on a new song.”

She nods her head, “Cool, can’t wait to hear it. Oh, you’re up next by the way. Thought we’d have you at the top of the list.”

“Thanks so much, Pez.”

“Course.”

After the act ahead of him gets off stage, Louis tugs his keyboard with him to get set up. It doesn’t take long for him to fix the microphone, and adjust his seat until he’s comfortable enough to play. When it’s all said and done, he glances up to the crowd, noticing that they’re all smiling back at him.

"Hey everyone. Just wanna say a massive thank you for listening to me play tonight. It always means a lot to me to have your support. I think the last time I played here by myself, I sang ‘Look After You,' by The Fray. I love that song, and I love performing it, but I'm gonna sing a different song by them tonight. Hope you like it."

I never knew
I never knew that everything was falling through
That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth
But that's how it's got to be
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears

As Louis sings the beginning of Over my Head, unexpectedly, Harry appears in the doorway. It surprises him since they didn't leave off on great terms this morning, but Louis' not bothered at all. He's even a little excited that it seems their  friendship  is not totally lost. Yet, all is abruptly changed when Harry catches Louis' searching eyes, and watches on with anything but friendliness. In fact, he's downright brimming with affection. Louis nearly loses his place with their eyes connected across the room, like two magnets always finding a way back to one another. Which is truly too much. Harry is entirely too much. For lack of many places to focus, Louis goes back to the crowd, singing with a resurgence of emotion he hadn't had prior.  

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
Over my head

Try as he may to avoid Harry, he can still sense the drag of Harry's gravity fighting to reel him in. He keeps his eyes steady on the crowd, but its heat lays upon Louis like the desert sun, sticking to every fiber of his being. Louis tries to deny the urge, but he can't keep his eyes away from Harry for as long as he had hoped, going back to them as if they've been deprived of the sight. And with Harry, and his beautiful face, and his beautiful eyes, and his beautiful lips, and Louis singing this song with every ounce of himself - everything suddenly feels significant.

When Louis continues to sing his next lines, he’d never confess, but his heart is singing to Harry.

With eight seconds left in overtime
He's on your mind
He's on your mind

Well...he definitely didn’t mean to make that lyric change. As most things lately, it's all slipping through Louis' hands. There's an odd expression on Harry that seems cautious, unsure how to react to Louis pretty much serenading him. Louis reminds himself of the term ‘friend’ that's been labeled between them, by himself in fact, and finishes the rest of the song without another conflicting glance that way.

With eight seconds left in overtime
He's on your mind
He's on your mind

The last few notes of his keyboard are pressed, holding out the melody until it progressively ends. Louis bows his head at the applause, which has always been his second favorite part of performing after the performance itself. As he packs up his stuff, he glances over at Perrie who’s smiling wide, but it’s Harry who’s next to her, that manages to hook his eyes. Unavoidable, really.

“Lou forgot you were playing tonight. Glad I decided to come down and check it out,” Harry grins as he goes to pat Louis on the back.

“Thanks, Harold. I see you’ve met Perrie.”

Perrie giggles as she tucks away lavender strands of her hair, behind her ear. “Harry was just telling me that you two were singing together the other day. I’d love to see that.”

“Yeah? We sounded alright. Maybe we'll play open mic one of these days?" Louis makes the comment to appease Perrie, though it seems that Harry is just as enticed by the idea as she is.

“Yeah, we totally should, Lou!”

“Yeah. Anyways, I’ve got to get going. Lots of work waiting for me back home. Good seeing you both.”

“Bye Louis,” Perrie waves as he departs.

“Lou wait," Harry rushes along before Louis can leave. "I just want to say that I talked to Bridgette today, and she told me that there's gonna be a talent scout playing there that night! Can you believe it!? I hope you don't mind, but I decided to keep my name in the lineup. But I thought maybe we could just switch? If you go before me, then you can just tell your mom to leave when you’re done, right?”

Fucking fuck.

“Really? A talent scout?” Louis plays dumb, “Bridgette didn’t tell me. And uh, that’s okay Harry, I’ll figure it out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Well, if he wasn’t already, Louis definitely is in over his fucking head now.  

******************

Sunday is spent with Louis finishing all the work that’s due for the week, and spending time alone in his room to write. It doesn't go well. He has no inspiration. No motivation. He comes up with a few notes that sound good together, but there's nothing more than that. He records himself playing the music so that he can keep track of what he came up with, but after that, he’s done. Writing feels like a chore lately, and he’s not even sure anymore what’s blocking his system.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Hello?”

“Lou?” Harry’s voice answers, “Hey!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Well… I don't know. I'm just, bored? And I was wondering if maybe you'd be down to hang out?"

“Tonight?”

“That’s the idea,” Harry chuckles.

“Sure, yeah. Sure. Do you want to come over or…?”

“Great! I’ll bring a movie.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon!”

There are few minutes between the phone call ending, and the doorbell ringing, in which Louis spends trying to clean his apartment. It's a hopeless cause to be honest, which is why he's not sure why he wasted the time. After placing some dirty shoes by the front door where they’re stored, Louis twists the lock on the door handle.

Opening up to Harry, Louis fights his jaw from dropping at the outfit he has on. It's a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he looks so incredibly comfy, Louis wants to bury himself in the softness of it. And Harry's hair – it's clearly just washed, as the curls appear so touchable and free.

“Hey,” Harry greets as he walks into the living room.

“Er hi,” Louis manages to say.

Not that Louis had really thought about it, but now that he’s tried talking to Harry, his next best step is finding something that will make Harry not want to perform. Maybe convincing him that he’s not a good performer? Though that would be incredibly harsh.

Louis’ going to need something less dramatic than that.

Or maybe convincing him that it’s not the best place to play, though Harry would probably find that suspicious? Maybe. Or…maybe Louis could get Harry to start liking someone? And maybe get that person not to like Harry, or convince them to not like Harry. And then when Harry's too broken-hearted, he won't be able to perform?

That's still horrible, but maybe it would influence his writing and singing afterward, instead of tarnishing it?

The only problem is finding someone for Harry to like.

“So I brought Moana and Frozen. I don’t know if you’ve seen either, but they’re both so good I couldn’t decide which one.”

Louis laughs, “I have six sisters, believe me when I say I’ve seen all Disney movies, multiple times each. I like Moana better than Frozen though, my personal opinion.”

“Really? I would have imagined you a Queen Elsa fan?”

"Because I'm cold-hearted?"

"Because you're strong and independent, and incredibly successful without having help from anyone else. Obviously, you have your band members, but you're the reason any of them are even doing well, not the other way around."

Louis was dumbfounded. “You…you really think all that about me?”

Harry answers without a single doubt, “Yeah!”

“Wow Harry, that’s like…the nicest thing anyone’s said about me.”

“Oh,” his cheeks flush, “Well I mean it.”

Gulping down the acid of guilt that burns at the back of his throat, Louis shoves away his feelings of resentment for the time being. “Right. Thank you. I guess you have me convinced then, let’s watch Frozen."

"I should forewarn you,” Harry’s stern expression melts into giggles, “I break out in song and dance when ‘Let It Go,' starts playing."

“Then I should forewarn you, that I will record it and use it for blackmail for the rest of my life.”

Harry gasps playfully, “You’re evil, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis internally smirks at the reality of that statement, “Oh, you have no idea.”

******************

The night stays predominantly friendly, nothing more than a few jokes back and forth while they watch with shared laughs. It's at the end of the popcorn bowl that they've finished off together when things start to take an interesting turn.  

“I always wanted to have my own movie moment,” Harry whispers casually.

“Movie moment?”

“Erm, yeah. You know, where everything is just bigger than you are, and it feels...magical? Like you and the other person are the only ones in the room, despite a crowd of people standing right there.”

“That’s so cliche,” Louis groans mockingly.

Harry chuckles, “Yeah but, I don’t know.”

Louis pushes, “Explain it to me.”

"I feel like, yeah - it's cliche. But reality sucks, you know? Movies may over-romanticize stories, but sometimes it's nice believing that something like that could happen. I'm not saying I expect perfection, and the perfectly timed music, or the kiss in the rain. But yeah, I do want something that feels just as powerful. Just as overwhelming. I want a moment where it all just makes sense, that they're the one for me and I'm the one for them, and that's the only thing we need to know in those few minutes. That it's us, that we're here, and that we're in love."

Louis’ stunned. He hadn’t been expecting Harry to talk so passionately about his want for this, and Louis hadn’t been expecting to fall in love with the idea. But Harry made it sound sublime, and now Louis too can’t ignore the pull of wanting a movie moment of his own.

“Wow. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. That honestly sounds incredible and I...I hope you get to have your movie moment, Harry. I really do. You deserve it more than anyone else.”

Green daringly bores into Louis' soul, and there's nothing Louis can do about it. There's a slight smile dressed upon Harry's face, making his dimple reveal itself only a little, and Louis could honestly fall in love right now, if he weren't so bent on taking Harry down.

“Lou?”

“Hm?”

“Hans or Kristoff?”

While Louis is mostly thankful for the subject change, he can't help but think - neither. He'd rather have Harry. Harry, with his glorious curls resting against Louis’ black couch, and his alluring lips soft and red, bitten between Harry’s teeth. It takes a second for Louis to remember the question, and remember the point of all of this, in the first place.

Right...the plan.

The plan that Louis should be worrying a lot more about instead of Harry. Shifting in his seat, Louis shoves his focus back on something safe, like Harry's nose, and reminds himself to carry this conversation platonically. "Are you honestly asking me if I'd prefer the evil prince over the good-hearted villager?"

Harry smirks, “Yeah?”

“Hans, duh.”

“Are you serious?”

“Everyone wants Kristoff, right? Someone has to date the bad guy.”

Scoffing, Harry protests, “That someone doesn’t have to be you.”

“Maybe I like a little danger in my life? A little mischief?”

“I think that despite how you come across, you’re probably the most romantic out of the bunch.”

Louis defends, “No!”

“Oh yeah,” Harry points with his ring clad finger, “You definitely are more romantic than your friends, and maybe I haven’t witnessed it in person, but there are hints here and there that lead me to believe so.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Don’t think so.”

“Whatever, who would you pick?”

"I would pick Kristoff because I like a guy not afraid to show his true feelings and self."

The irony, Louis thinks bemusedly.

"Well, what about realistically, what’s your type?”

"Someone funny. I know I have different taste in music, but at least someone who can appreciate music like I do, even if it's not the same kind. Someone who is genuine, and good-natured.”

Exploiting the information to his advantage, Louis quickly jumps to an idea, “I’m gonna find that person for you.”

Harry jerks his head at the offer, “What? Why?”

“You deserve to be happy and in love. I’m gonna help you find that.”

“That’s really not necess-”

“It’s decided! We’ll start tomorrow. Meet me for lunch on the lawn.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry wears a frown that Louis ignores. “Well, it’s pretty late. I’m gonna head out,” Harry continues as he stands up from the couch. “It was good watching the movie with you, Lou.”

“Yes, I had a good time.”

“See you tomorrow?”

Louis nods, “See you tomorrow.”

******************

Monday carries with it more assignments, stress, and genuine frustration as his professors’ workloads increase. It’s not even mid-day when he’s ready to head back home and just sleep for the rest of time. But, Louis has plans.

Important plans.

Harry and Louis decided to meet on the lawn. However, they're going to eat at a restaurant off campus. Louis' thrilled the closer and closer he gets to Harry, because for once, he thinks he might have a solid plan of action. Because if the person Louis sets him up with doesn't want to be with Harry, or if the person breaks Harry's heart, Louis' hands are clean. Harry would never suspect it being him, and he hopefully will cancel playing at the show, all of his own accord. It'd be brilliant.

Of course, as fate would have it, Louis passes by a girl on the grass reading Macbeth, as he’s thinking about his plans. What are the fucking odds? He hasn’t thought of that book since they forced him to read it in high school, and honestly, most of it was through spark notes. He doesn’t remember much of it, nor did he even like it, but it’s hard to forget the climax of the story. When Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are cleaning their hands of Duncan’s blood.

“Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.”

The foreshadowing unnerves Louis. But he doesn’t fear that his tainted hands will turn Neptune’s seas to red. However, there is another green emblem in Louis’ life that his guilt - if he goes through with this - could tarnish. The idea scares him, but Louis tells himself he won’t be the one stabbing Harry in the back. He’ll just be the one providing the other with the knife to do so.

It still sounds fucked up, so Louis does anything else but think about it, until a familiar set of curls comes into his line of vision. Harry looks devastatingly handsome in his chelsea boots, black jeans, white shirt, and beanie adorned on his head. It only makes it that much harder for Louis to concentrate.

“Hey,” Louis greets when he approaches Harry, tapping his firm shoulder to grab his attention.

“Hey Lou,” Harry grins when he swivels his body around, “Was wondering if you were coming.”

“I could never stand you up, curly.”

“Curly? That’s new.”

“Not really. Been calling you that in my head for a while, just trying it out now. I think I like it.”

“It’s not original,” Harry argues.

"Well, neither are you," Louis sass's in rebuttal.

Harry scoffs as if he's offended until he releases a fit of laughter. "Meanie."

“Just on special occasions.”

“So this is a special occasion?”

"Yes, it is!"

“And why’s that?”

“Because we’re finding you a boyfriend! Or a…a girlfriend. Whatever floats your boat.”

The light that always brightens Harry's existence dims as he pouts. "Oh right. And boyfriend. I used to date girls when I wasn't completely sure about my sexuality, but I'm sure about it now."

"Good. And me, too. About just dating boys. Although I dated this one girl back in high school until we realized we're better off as friends. And until I realized that girls were completely not what I was interested in."

“That’s nice that you realized so early on. It took me a while to figure it out.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Harold. There’s no right or wrong way to do it.”

A smile filled with nothing but respect and gratitude invades Harry’s lips, and Louis almost can’t handle being the one it’s directed to.  You’re doing good so far. Friends. Remember, friends.

“Anyway,” Louis redirects, “Let’s go get some food. Any preferences?”

“Mexican?”

“Sure thing, I’ve got just the place!”

Leading Harry to one of his favorite taco places in the area, Louis makes a few mental notes in his head. Harry had mentioned someone who likes music, someone who's funny, and is good natured. He can already think of at least ten people he knows that fit that bill, so he'll need to ask a few more questions to narrow it down.

When they get inside the restaurant, Harry and Louis take to a booth, glancing over the menus that the waitress provided them upon arrival. Louis waits to ask his questions after they’ve been given water, and their orders have been received.

“So…” Louis draws out.

“So,” Harry repeats back.

“What else do you like in a guy? Looks wise, or something else that might be helpful?”

“Well, they have to have a penis.”

Louis snorts, “Oh god, Harry. Come on.”

"Okay, okay. Erm, I've been known to like someone who's shorter than me, though height doesn't really matter. I tend to like people who are easy to talk to and are open about anything. And erm, well I typically like people who have…blue eyes."

It doesn't go to Louis' head. No, it does not. Not one bit. Not one ounce. Louis does not catalog that information in the back of his head in the ‘important to remember,' section. Nope. Nor does he think about the fact that Louis fits all of Harry's interests for a significant other.

No. No. No.

“Interesting. I’ve always liked having blue eyes, but it’s funny cause I’ve never actually dated anyone else who had them.”

“Oh, you’re a brown-eyed lover?”

“I actually quite like green. I don’t think anyone I’ve been with had green eyes, but if I were to pick one I like best out of all, it’d be green.”

Harry swallows, “Green?”

“Yes green,” Louis smiles innocently back until his eyes focus on Harry’s own, and he remembers who else has green colored irises. Shit.

“Well,” Louis continues to change the subject, “I’ve got this one guy in mind, Luke, that I think you’ll really like. Blue eyes, great talker, and also is into the same music you are. Don’t know if you’ve heard of them, but he’s in a band called 5 Seconds of Summer.”

"Cool. No, I haven't heard of that band, guess I'll have to check it out."

“Yeah.”

“So how’d you know this Luke?”

“He and I started The Rogue together.”

“What? I thought Niall did that with you?”

"Niall, Luke, and I were in a class together, and it was actually Luke's idea to form the band. I came up with the band name, and Niall was just along for the ride. After the first few weeks though, we realized we just didn't like the same kind of music, and so he left. He never admitted it, but I know that's also when he first met Calum, the guy who started up the band he's in now. Luke and Calum just really clicked, and it worked out better in the end anyway."

“That’s pretty cool though. So are you and Luke close?”

"I don't know that we were ever really close? I mean we've always been friends, but nothing deeper than that. Not like Niall and me, and not like he and Calum."

“And you think Luke and I could get close?”

“Definitely.”

Harry ponders over Louis' response as their food is set down in front of them. Louis knows he's curious, and that's the first part. The second step is going to be what's hardest.

Getting Luke to play along.

******************

“No.”

“Luke.”

“No.”

“Luke…”

“Why? Why do you want me to  pretend  to like this kid? Hm?”

“I already told you…if I can find a way to break his heart, then he might not play in the show, and I don’t have to worry about him being my competition for the talent scout.”

Luke, with his lean legs and crystal eyes, snaps. “Then why don’t you do it?”

Louis sighs, “Because I don’t want to get my hands dirty.”

"Well, I don't either. This isn't even my problem. Look…" He calms down, biting the part where his black lip ring is pierced, "I like you, Louis. You've always been a great friend to me, but this…this isn't like you. And this is mean and unfair. If you want to dig your own hole and lay in it, fine. But don't drag someone else down there with you."

“Fine,” Louis rolls his eyes. “I get it, okay? I get it.”

“Why are you even trying to do something like this? I mean seriously? Why?”

“I told you.”

"No, that's not enough of a reason. Other bands are performing that night, I don't see you trying to find people to take them down?"

“Because…because he’s  good.  Like massively good, and I won’t win against him.” Slumping down in the nearest chair by his legs, Louis caves into himself. Luke takes the seat across from him, where they are in the café.

“Louis, when have you ever doubted yourself? I’ve never seen this side of you. You’re always so confident and relaxed.”

“It’s Harry. He’s just  that  talented, and it’s made me insecure about everything.”

“Maybe instead of trying to take Harry down, you could work on your own issues? Like gaining your confidence back, and practicing as much as you can until everything is perfected. Right? I mean, I can’t imagine that won’t help."

“I suppose it can’t hurt.”

“Just, stop worrying about him? Worry about yourself and what  you  need to do to get the talent scout to notice you. There’s no reason you can’t.”

Luke stands up, patting Louis’ shoulders in a caring gesture on his way out. Louis knows he’s right, just like he knows everyone else in his life is right about this. He needs to let this plan go, and leave Harry alone. It’s beyond pathetic, and Louis can attest to that. But Louis wanted the record label that badly, that he was willing to do anything to get it.

But for the first time in ever, he’s not feeling the same way.

******************

What is sleep? Certainly not something Louis is acquainted with anymore, seeing as this is once again a restless night. He deserves it though, he knows. He deserves to feel shitty. And while he has no room to complain, when the awfulness seeps into his attitude and ruins his mood for the rest of the day - Louis sighs.  This is going to be a fucking terrible day, isn’t it,  he asks aloud to himself.

Niall knocks on his door fifteen minutes later for their ritual of walking to class. If Louis knew Niall wouldn’t yank him out of his bed, he’d probably stay in today. Unfortunately, the reality is that Niall would totally do that. Willing or not.

“Boo bear!”

“Remember when you stopped calling me that freshmen year? Let’s go back to that.”

Niall laughs boisterously, “Not a chance, I’m feeling nostalgic today. Been listening to some good music this morning, getting me in the mood for our practice this Thursday.”

“Ugh, please shut up.”

“What the fuck’s up your ass? Wake up on the wrong side of bed?”

"You could say that," Louis answers as he locks up his apartment and trails alongside Niall onto the street. It's a cold, cloudy day that Louis has prepared for by wearing a sweatshirt.

“Does this have to do with Harry?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I didn’t realize you were hanging out with him.”

“It was all for the plan, at least… I thought it was.”

It’s obvious Niall wants to comment more on the topic, but keeps to himself instead. Louis doesn’t know why, he should take the chance to end the conversation here, but he keeps going on. “I tried so hard to not like hanging out with him, Niall. I tried so hard to hate him, but I fucking couldn’t.”

“Louis? You need to calm down. First off, there’s nothing wrong with liking Harry as a friend. I don’t know why you’re trying so hard not to? And second, you need to get your priorities in check. Is it really worth your time, your sanity, to continue with this? Or would you rather put this much effort into something important like our Bridge’s performance?”

“Our show.”

“Exactly. It’s up to you Louis, at the end of the day. No one can tell you what to do, but I think you need to focus back on the things that matter most.”

There’s just one problem. Deep in the pit of Louis’ mourning heart, is a truth Louis’ only recently uncovered. Harry matters to Louis. Even though he refuses to say it, he has acknowledged it.

Harry matters to Louis, and he has since the first day they met.

Deciding it's time to end their talk before Louis spills secrets he's not prepared to admit, Louis nods, "Thanks, Nialler." Niall's smile is laced with concern, but it's there nonetheless, making Louis feel just a touch bit better.

******************

Class restores Louis’ shitty mood to a new height, when his professor informs him that he has an essay due in two days, that Louis completely forgot about. Rushing home to start on the assignment, a hand stops him in his effort, gripping onto Louis’s wrist firmly.

“Lou?”

“Oh Harry,” Louis jumps. “You scared me, what’s up?”

“Nothing, heading home. You done for the day?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna hang out?”

Louis shouldn’t for a number of reasons, but the most important being his essay. “Sure. Let’s go to yours,” he answers anyway.

Harry seems anxious throughout the short walk to his dorm, making Louis wonder what could be bothering him. Maybe it’s that they’re going to his place, since Louis has never been there before? But it’s just a room, it can’t be that bad? Prior to entering, Harry seems as if he wants to say something, but Louis doesn’t wait as he barges in.

Upon entry, Louis notes that it’s a typical dorm with two beds on opposing sides, but Harry’s side is clearly the one that stands out. Pink sheets strewn about the mattress, black and white photos lining up the walls, and paper flowers of assorted colors plastered everywhere between.

"Wow," Louis mutters.

Harry’s skin turns scarlet at the comment, “Erm yea. It’s…”

“Nice,” Louis finishes for him. “Really nice.” Making a point to prove that it doesn’t bother Louis like Harry appears to think it does. Louis then plops down on the bed first, making himself at home as he nuzzles into the soft pastel sheets. “So, what did you want to do?”

Stunned for a second at Louis’ nonchalance to the predicament, Harry shakes it off and laughs, “I don’t know, hadn’t thought that far in advance.”

“So you stole me away for no reason at all? I see how you are curly.”

“I know, I’m so horrible,” Harry teases. “Wanna listen to music?”

“As long as it’s something good.”

“It is! But if you don’t like it, we can’t be friends anymore.”

Louis gasps, “You’d really pick a song over me?”

“This song, it means a lot to me.”

"Alright, go ahead," Louis says as he lays down on the bed to get the full effect of the song. Harry plays from an iPod on his desk, and lies down next to Louis, letting the music burry them in its melody.

So I'm back to the velvet underground

Back to the floor that I love

To a room with some lace and paper flowers

Back to the gypsy that I was

To the gypsy that I was

Louis knows right away that it’s Gypsy, by Fleetwood Mac. What Louis doesn’t know, is why Harry said this song is so important to him. Which truly says more about Louis and what he doesn’t know about Harry, than what it does about Harry.

And it all comes down to you

Well, you know that it does, well

Lightning strikes maybe once, maybe twice

Oh and it lights up the night

And you see you're a gypsy

You see you're a gypsy

Peering over at Harry, Louis sees a tear stain the side of his cheek, but he waits. He waits for the melody to finish. Waits for Harry to get from this song what he wants. What he needs. Louis would never take that away from him.

Goodness strikes

Maybe once, maybe twice

And it all comes down to you

Ooh oh, and it all comes down to you

Lightning strikes

Maybe once, maybe twice (oh)

I still see your bright eyes, bright eyes

(And it all comes down to you)

Afraid to look anywhere else, Louis doesn’t move or tilt his head as he asks his question to the remaining echo of the song above them, “Harry?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you say that this song means a lot to you?”

"Promise that what I tell you stays with us?"

“Promise.”

“You were right, you know. About me not having a great high school experience. I wasn’t Mr. Popular, not even close. The small town where I’m from? It makes other small towns look big. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows everyone. When I was sixteen, I knew I had feelings I didn’t understand, but I shoved them deep down and forced myself to date a girl,” Harry exhales shakily, “I thought they wouldn’t sense the gay on me if I had a girl by my side.”

Louis’ heart plummets.

"I tried to love her, and I prayed every night that I would wake up and feel for her the way she felt for me, but it never happened. And for months it was the same cycle. During the day I was a loyal and faithful boyfriend, at night I was...experimenting. Going to blogs or sites to find out more about what I was. What I am.

It wasn’t an issue until one day she came over unexpectedly. I had been listening to  this  song while painting my nails, something I recently found I loved doing, and she freaked. I remember falling onto my bedroom floor, as she stood over me screaming. But surprisingly, she wasn’t yelling because I was gay, but because I was doing something ‘girly.’ ‘Acting like a bitch,’ she said. At the noise, my mom had come running upstairs and kicked her out immediately, but the damage was done long before she was gone.”

“Harry…”

"It's alright. I finished out the remaining two years - I didn't have friends, but I didn't have enemies either. I don't think people knew what to do with me once my ex told everyone what she had seen. There was some good that had happened because of it though, my family loves and accepts me, and I know that now thanks to her. And I know who I am. I love pink, I love soft things, I love painting my nails, and sometimes wearing clothes that are considered feminine. I know it might not seem it, cause I started off college dressing myself a different way, but that's because I didn't want to relive that same experience. But my room," Harry sniffles, "My room has to match me. My room has to be me."

There's a stream of sadness erupting from Harry's emerald seas, and Louis doesn't hesitate to wrap him up within his arms. "You don't have to pretend to be anyone else around me. You can wear all pink, you can paint your nails...fuck, I'll even paint them for you if you want. What happened to you in high school? That was horrible. But Harry  darling,  please, don't hide yourself anymore. No one will do that to you here, and if they do, I will personally murder them."

Timidly, Harry asks, “You mean that?”

Louis squeezes him tight to get the point across, “Yes. Every word.”

It takes a few minutes for Harry to be well enough to pull from Louis’ grasp. Taking tissues and patting them lazily at his eyes, Harry weakly smiles, “I’m such a mess, but thank you, Lou. So much.”

“Of course, Harry.”

Louis’ about to say it, he’s about to throw caution to the wind and say that he’s done something stupid, but also that he doesn’t feel platonically towards Harry after all. Maybe even admit that he has feelings for Harry? This would be the perfect moment, it really would, except when Louis parts his lips to confess his feelings and his sins, Harry beats him to it.

“Think Luke will still want me if I’m like this?”

And what?

Oh right, Luke...the person he told Harry he’d set him up with. The same person that told Louis never in a million years would he do it. “Well, funny you should mention him-”

“Funny?”

“Er, yeah. You see, I forgot but uh, Luke’s actually not available. Sorry.”

“Oh okay.”

“Yeah.”

Fidgeting with his fingers that clasp the wet tissues, Harry keeps his eyes held to his hands when he speaks again. “You don’t think he’d like me  like this , do you?”

“What?”

“Luke,” Harry clarifies, his eyes searing into Louis with vigor, “He wouldn’t like someone like me. Just say it! Say he wouldn’t like a bitch like me!”

“Harry! That’s not-”

“Just tell me the truth,” Harry snaps. Which is a lot bigger of an ask than he realizes.

“It’s not like that, Harry. Please.”

But Harry’s happiness has been sapped - gone, clouded by his anger. Unsteadily, Harry’s voice  cries out, “Just leave, Louis.”

“But I-”

“Please.”

Louis’ eyes plead for Harry to reconsider, but he leaves like Harry had asked. It doesn’t stop him from looking back every step of the way though, hoping Harry will change his mind and ask him back in. Hoping Harry will hold him in his pink sheets again.

But after the thousandth check, Louis accepts defeatedly - Harry’s never coming.

Chapter Text

Twenty-four hours later Louis is sitting on his couch. He’s been watching show after show, ignoring all else but the characters on the screen. Because if he doesn’t address the pain, it’s as if it doesn’t exist. Ignorance is bliss, he lowly comments. His plans of avoidance are interjected, however, when Zayn comes home from wherever he’s been off to.

“You smell,” is the first thing Zayn says to him in days. Great.

“Thanks.”

“Have you been here all morning?”

“Since yesterday, actually,” Louis corrects. Zayn appears worried for once, stalking over to the couch and sitting beside Louis with a frown.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Zayn sighs, “Now Louis, we both know that’s not true.”

This is the one thing Louis loves and hates about Zayn. If Niall or Liam asked, and Louis shut them down, they would admit defeat. But Zayn, he fights. He pushes. He shoves back, causing Louis to always surrender instead. “It’s Harry, you don’t want to hear about it.”

“Try me.”

"Well, I went along with the plan like an idiot, even tried to get Luke involved until he freaked on me. I can't blame him. It's my fault. And now Harry's mad at me, except he's mad at me for an entirely different reason. I still haven't told him what I've done, and the worst part is, is that I really like him, Zayn. Like what the fuck?”

Zayn’s features are calculated, as he seems to wonder how to respond to the information he’s been provided. It’s not a good sign to Louis.

“First off, you deserve it. I told you that you were only going to hurt yourself in the end, and this is exactly what happened. Second, you don’t deserve Harry. What you need to do is make your apologies and move on.”

“I don’t want to.”

“That’s not an option.”

“Who says?” Louis’ growing more defensive by the second, as Zayn’s voice level inclines in response.

"This is a matter of right or wrong, Louis. You did something wrong. You don't get rewarded for that. You don't get to have Harry's forgiveness or even friendship after doing what you did. You made your choice, and now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“I don’t want to!”

"Well, that's not up to you! It's up to Harry and for him to decide, and if he doesn't want you in his life then you're going to have to accept that!”

Louis throws his cup across the room, smashing into the wall opposite them loudly. Zayn watches the scene, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m really disappointed in you, Louis. You’re better than this.”

Departing from the couch silently, Louis presses play on the TV, begging for it take the pain away. Just rip it all away. He doesn’t want to feel this way anymore. He doesn’t want to be hurt anymore. When the show isn’t doing enough to numb him, Louis finds a bottle of vodka and takes a large swig.

“Fuck you, Macbeth,” he murmurs before taking another sip. But Louis knows, he knows it’s no one’s fault but his own.

******************

Save me, I'm lost
Oh, Lord, I've been waiting for you
I'll pay any cost
Save me from being confused
Show me what I'm looking for
Show me what I'm looking for, oh, Lord

Show Me What I’m Looking For; Carolina Liar

It's only fitting that it's raining. That when everything in Louis' life seems to be falling apart, the weather reflects his innermost emotions. Like a mirror relaying back the image, the darkened sky and heavy downpour portray Louis’ turmoil. He’s devastated.

Writing has been impossible, and of the little bit he's done, it's emotional. Not the kind of stuff he wants to play in front of a young crowd. Nor, what he would play for a talent scout. His coursework too has been piling up, and everyone around him is mad at him. Niall and Liam have been pretending to be fine, but Louis knows that they're not. Zayn's hardly around, and when he is, he avoids Louis like the plague. And Harry.

Harry.

He should be more upset at Louis. He should hate Louis the way Louis claimed to hate him. But those ‘spiteful’ feelings? They were baseless, and they’re gone. Harry has proven time and time again how wonderful he is, and Louis’ come to realize that hating Harry is like hating a puppy. It’s just wrong.

And as if it isn’t clarified enough, the plan is done. While he didn’t go through with everything he had initially schemed, Louis’ still appalled at himself for even going through with any of it at all. His friends had told him to stop, to let it go, and it took weeks for Louis to genuinely listen. It’s disheartening. Louis’ incredibly disheartened at what he had done.

Now? He doesn’t care about the damn performance or talent scout anymore. He just wants to have his life back to normal. He just wants to have his friends back to normal. Wants to have he and Harry back to normal. But it takes a few days for Louis to be stable enough to rectify the situation. He needed time to dwell in his misery, time to sit in the hole he dug for himself. It’s an empty place at the bottom, Louis comes to know, littered with nothing but shame and bottles of wine.

Because it’s not proper moping if he’s not entirely wasted.

After Louis’ sobered; after the guilt washes down the drain with the soap in the shower, does he seem physically prepared to handle anything. He’s not mentally there yet, but he probably never will be. When he’s ready, he takes a long walk, meandering down cracked pavement until his feet carry him to a familiar place - Niall and Liam’s. As he inches closer to their door, a bitter flavor manifests itself on Louis’ tongue. It’s about time he got used to the taste of regret.

Knocking his fist on the door of the townhouse they rent, Louis waits for a response. Eventually, the front door swings open to reveal Niall on the other side. He's evidently surprised by Louis' appearance if his wide eyes are anything to go by, but he smiles nonetheless.

“Louis! What’re you doing here, buddy?”

“Hey Ni, I was wondering if I could come in? Just wanna talk for a bit.”

“Course you can, fucker. You don’t even have to ask.”

Taking the stairs behind Niall to the upper level, Louis follows his friend into their home. There are three levels to their townhouse, with the first an entrance of sorts. After is the second floor that holds their central living space, and lastly is the third floor situated with their bedrooms. Coming out onto the second level, Niall heads for the living room to the right of the stairs, where Liam is propped on the couch. The minute his eyes catch Louis' face, however, he sits up curiously, "Louis? What's up?”

Louis sits down on the couch opposing them, his body rattled with nerves, but he doesn't let it keep him from saying what he needs. It's long overdue, to begin with. "Hi, uh just wanted to talk to you guys together. I've uh, been a real asshole lately and I know it wasn’t directed towards either of you, but it upset you guys still. And I just, well I just want to say I’m sorry.”

"Not for nothing Louis, but it's not us you should be apologizing too," Liam comments. Niall nods along with Liam's response, agreeing with the statement.

"I know you're not, but I wanted somewhere to start. Besides, you guys are my best friends. I can't stand feeling like something is going on between all of us."

“Well,” Niall adds in, “We’re always gonna be your best friends. But not gonna lie, you definitely disappointed me. I can’t speak for Liam when I say this, but I expected better of you, Louis. What you did, what you planned to do to Harry – that’s not like you. You’ve never been like that. I don’t know what triggered you to act that way, but I hope it never happens again. And I know that I condoned it at some point, and I’ve felt like shit ever since. So I’m glad this is over with, and we can put it behind us. I just want to focus on putting on a good performance, and nothing else.”

Liam pats Niall on the back, “Agreed. Well said there, Nialler.”

"Yes, well said. And I promise never to do that again. Seriously.”

“If you say so, Louis. Have you talked to Harry about it yet,” Niall asks.

“I thought I’d start with the easiest of my apologies first.”

“Oh thanks, asshole.”

Niall is teasing him, and Louis smiles because it's good that he's joking. It means they're going to be okay. "I will say something to him. But, can we maybe not talk about it? I'd rather do something  fun like... pick out songs for our set list!"

Liam groans while Niall cheers, “Wonderwall!”

“Niall,” Louis smirks. “Shut up.”

******************

Having his friendship with Niall and Liam fixed is a weight off Louis’ shoulders, but it’s only a few rocks out of thousands that belong there. Louis has a way to go, and his next stop is the hardest one. He seriously considers being drunk for this.

Louis trudges to Harry’s dorm as if it’s his death march. Taking his final steps until the end is near. He's not sure what to say to make up for all the shit he's done, or even planned to do. And he's not sure how Harry's going to handle finding out this news when Harry's mad at him for the whole Luke fiasco already. The last time they talked was after that incident, except for two texts Harry sent to Louis that he ignored.

Harry had asked if Louis was okay. Louis couldn’t answer without lying.

And surprisingly, Louis doesn’t want to lie ever again. Doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of not speaking the truth. It’s an awful, consuming feeling that he never wants to be submerged in, if he can help it. He just wants to stick to his music, his friends, his family, and maybe Harry if he’ll have him.

Speaking of music, if Louis could, he’d be listening to a song right now. A tune to get him in the mood to handle all of this. Although when he tries to think of songs about lasting through the storm, the only one he can think about is, ‘Somewhere Only We Know,’ by Keane. Louis doesn’t understand why that’s resonating with him at the moment. But as he hums the song to himself, and thinks about the lyrics, slowly it comes to him. Slowly, he begins to realize.

Oh simple thing where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

Taking the stairs to Harry’s floor, and knocking on the door with uncertainty in every ounce of his skin, Louis distracts himself by continuing to sing the song within his head.

And if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go?
So why don't we go?
Somewhere only we know?

This could be the end of everything. This could be the end of everything. The line parts from the song with determination as it’s words crash into Louis, forcing him to take in how real they are. This could be the end - of them.

With those thoughts vibrant in Louis' mind, the door opens, and Harry greets him with confusion. "Lou?"

“Uh, hi Harry.”

Harry stands with his arms crossed, clearly not sure how to interpret the situation he’s found himself in. “What’s up?”

"Not much. Well, that's not true. Uhm. Can we maybe talk? I have kind of a lot to tell you."

“Erm yeah, hold on. Let me grab a coat.”

Jacket in hand, and army green beanie nestled on top of his wispy curls, Harry follows Louis out into the afternoon. It’s cool, as it always seems to be nowadays, but the Autumn sun shines against the foliage with vigor. Livening the red and yellow leaves against the crisp blue sky. If Harry weren’t beside him, with his incandescent eyes sparkling more than a million stars in the night, than the trees would be the most beautiful thing Louis’ seen today. But that’s simply just not true. And Harry beside him, biting his bottom lip and looking entirely too much, is there to remind him of that.

"So what did you wanna talk about," Harry curiously asks, as they take a seat on a park bench.

“Well,” Louis anxiously starts, “I did some things I’m not proud of. And I have to confess that I uh, that I’ve been lying to you. And I know I should have never done it in the first place, and I know I shouldn’t have let it go on all these weeks, but I’m here now.”

“O…kay,” Harry draws out.

"The first time I saw you was at open mic night... I told you that, but the reason I came up to introduce myself wasn't that I thought you were talented. I mean I did or rather do think you are. You are immensely talented Harry. But, the reason I came up to you was that I uhm…"

Harry crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Go on.”

“Okay. I wanted to keep you from performing at Bridges.”

“What,” Harry exclaims with parted lips.

“You see, you’re such a good singer. So much better than me, and it terrified me. I’ve had The Rogue’s performance scheduled at Bridges for a while, knowing that a talent scout was coming that night. We’ve been so excited, and this is our chance, Harry. And then you come along with your fucking amazing talent, and I just…panicked. You're my competition. So I thought maybe If I befriended you then I could get you not to perform. But you found out about the scout coming anyway, so I thought maybe I could get you to fall in love with someone? Because if they broke your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t want to perform regardless of the scout being there or not. But Luke didn’t want to be apart of it. Which, I don’t blame him because that was horrible of me to have even thought of. Especially when I like yo- I mean, yeah,” Louis inhales deeply in between his explanation, before adding on.

“I wanted to tell you all this though, because I’m done, I don’t want to do that or be that person anymore. That’s not who I am, and I should have never let fear dictate my actions like that. Especially when I really did enjoy hanging out with you, Harry. And I’m sorry. Fuck I’m so sorry. I know you’ll probably never forgive me, but if you do, if you can…I would love it if we could stay friends?”

The stain of hate on Harry’s face will never erase from Louis’ mind now that he’s seen it. His cold green eyes ice over in disgust, “What. The. Fuck. You’re serious? This entire time has been a…a…game to you? You've just been pretending to be friends with me so that you could hurt me in the end? And now you're asking me to be friends with you still? That's low Louis. That's so fucking low. I thought you were better than that. I can't believe this," Harry bolts from where he had been sitting. “I have to go.”

“Wait!”

“No! You don’t even…you don’t even get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

Harry stares at him, waiting for Louis to figure it out, but he doesn’t know what Harry’s talking about. Get what?

“Never talk to me again. I’m serious, Louis.”

As Harry storms off, leaving Louis behind in the park, Louis fights the urge to cry. Why is he so upset about this? He feels more devastated by this then when Liam or Niall or Zayn were mad at him. This is painful. This is torture. Getting up from the bench and running back to his apartment so that he can drink the rest of the day away, Louis has one thing repeating in his head.

This could be the end of everything

******************

It's nearly eleven at night, two wine glasses gone, and Louis is sprawled out on the floor. He doesn't think he can move any more, the alcohol sinking his inebriated body down like stones in the ocean. He has no hope for getting off the hardwood and has been there already for twenty minutes, but as if something today is going right – Zayn comes home.

“What the fuck, Louis?”

Zayn runs over and struggles to help Louis off, carrying him only as far as the couch.

“You can’t do that to me you fucking asshole! I thought you were dead.”

Slumping his head back against the couch, Louis closes his eyes to keep the light from harshly burning into them. “I fucked up, Z.”

“No shit.”

“No, really. I…lost Harry.”

Zayn’s defensive stance slumps, cautiously climbing onto the couch next to Louis. “What happened?”

“Told him the truth, told me to never talk to him again.”

“Which you deserve.”

“It hurts.”

“Told you it would.”

“Why though? Why does it hurt so bad?”

Zayn runs his fingers through Louis’ hair as he sighs. “Louis? Maybe it hurts because you felt more towards Harry than you’re willing to admit.”

“No.”

“Fine, be that way. But you know I’m right. That’s why you kept up with this whole plan, at least that’s what I think.”

“What’d you mean,” Louis slurs.

"What I mean is, is that I think you started this because you felt Harry was gonna steal the scout out from under you, but…I think you kept it up because you started wanting an excuse to see Harry. You're too proud ever to admit that the guy you claimed to hate is pretty cool, or that you didn't hate him at all. So instead, you kept with the plan so that you didn't have to explain why you were hanging out with him as much as you were."

“You’re wrong.”

“Whatever you say, Louis.”

“Harry isn’t just pretty cool. He’s amazing and kind and wonderful, and I really fucked it up, didn’t I,” Louis asks with tears in his eyes.

“Aww Lou come here. You can fix this, I believe in you. You just need to give Harry some time.”

Covering his face as he leans into Zayn’s chest, Louis sobs, “I can’t believe I’m crying over this.”

“I won’t mention it in the morning.”

“Thank you, Zayn.”

“Louis? You don’t have to thank me. Just promise to never act like a fucking douchebag again, and we’re good.”

“I promise.”

******************

Oh, but I'm scared to death
That there may not be another one like this
And I confess, that I'm only holding on by a thin thin thread

Sad; Maroon 5

Somewhere between getting drunk and ripping countless pages of useless lyrics up, two weeks pass. It's a Friday Night, and Eleanor begged all week for The Rogue to perform. Her sorority is throwing a Columbus Day Party since everyone has a long weekend to enjoy. Louis told her no over and over again, but the girl was persistent. Eventually, Louis only agreed just to get her off his back.

It’s a relatively warm night for October, as Louis is bundled in a light jacket, yelling into the microphone. “Hey everyone,” Louis waves, Niall and Liam smiling behind him onstage. “We’re The Rogue, and this is Jumper, by Third Eye Blind!”

The band tumbles into the song, and while Louis tries, it doesn't feel right. For the first time in his entire life, music isn't enough. It's not enough to thrill him. It’s not enough to make him feel anything at all. And despite singing along, all he can think about is how shitty he's sounding, and how horrible he's feeling, and how he just wants to lie down and get drunk. Maybe in the opposite order. For the sake of Niall and Liam, he’s trying to act like he's remotely interested in what they're playing, until Louis spots someone he thought he’d never see again. Someone that sparks electricity within every numb inch of his self. He spots Harry - standing alone, across the lawn.

It’s unfair how the boy still captures Louis’ eyes even when Louis doesn’t want to look at him. It's automatic. Louis is so mesmerized by Harry that he fucks up a few chords, and can't even bother to get back into the rhythm. Resigning from the song, Louis plants his microphone on the stage and jumps off the platform, disappearing into the crowd. Unfortunately, by the time Louis gets a chance to find him, Harry’s scent is all that remains. But Louis doesn’t give up, rushing off into the house to further his pursuit. He doesn’t care that everyone is watching him leave. He doesn’t care that he left Niall and Liam to fend for themselves.

He just wants to see Harry.

Grabbing a solo cup of whatever mixed drink they’ve made, Louis chugs down the liquid courage and resumes his search. However, after fifteen more minutes of unsuccess, Louis gives up. It’s impossible to chase a ghost that doesn’t want to be found. He just wishes that Harry did want to see him or talk to him. Louis just wishes that he wasn’t the only one in need of the other.

When Louis disembarks from the room he’s stood in, he returns to the party dishearteningly. He wants to leave. He wants to curl up in his bed and hide there forever, but there’s just one problem. There’s no alcohol at home. So in the meantime, Louis retrieves another drink, deciding that he has to be drunk first before he can go. Not because he wants to party, but because being drunk is the only cure for the all encompassing pain in his heart. Being drunk is the only way it doesn't hurt so much. So when he's drunk enough that he doesn't feel like falling on his knees to cry, that's when he can go home. That's when he can lay in his bed.  

When he’s too drunk to feel sad.

******************

The best medicine for a hangover, according to Louis, is a bagel and tea. Which he can only get from Caroline's, or at least - the best he can get within walking distance is from Caroline's. Not wanting to get out of bed, but also not wanting to feel so awful anymore, Louis groans as he pushes himself up. He doesn't change his clothes. He doesn't do his hair or brush his teeth. He can't be bothered enough to care. No, he goes in his Adidas sweats, Indiana University sweatshirt, and shoves a pair of sunglasses on to keep his eyes from hurting.

It is what it is, he says to his reflection before departing.

Arriving at the shop, Perrie's immediate smile drops into a frown upon further inspection of Louis’ appearance. “Louis? You okay?”

“Yeah, Pez. Just peachy.”

“Want some tea?”

“Please, and a bagel if you don’t mind.”

Her pout lifts a little, "Course, Louis. Whatever you want."

“Oh in that case…”

“Within reasons,” she instantly adds on.

Louis somewhat laughs, but it’s strained. “Sounds more like it.”

"Give me three minutes, and your order will be ready."

“Thank you, Perrie.”

She nods, going off to finish making Louis’ request. As she predicted, it takes exactly three minutes for the food to be ready. And after those three minutes have passed, Louis’ world is turned around. Harry walks in through the front door, sees Louis at the counter, and walks out.

He literally walks back out.

Snatching the food and drink from Perrie, Louis rushes, "Keep the change," as he throws the money at her to run after the boy he's been chasing since last night.  

“Harry! Harry,” Louis yells to the retreating figure’s back. Thankfully, Harry stops, though Louis’ sure it’s the last thing he wants to do. Guess Harry would rather that than Louis yelling at him all the way to his dorm.

“I thought I told you not to talk to me, Louis.”

Pacing until he’s in front of Harry, Louis timidly says, “I know, I know. I just…I really miss you, Harry.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry says, “I don’t believe you.”

"I do! We had a lot of fun when we were together, and I just…I miss that? I know I fucked up, but I won’t ever do that again."

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because I’m telling you the truth. I promise Harry, I promise to never lie to you again or it’ll be the last thing I do.”

“You’ve been lying to me for weeks, pretending to be my friend just so that you could stab me in the back in the end! All so you could have a better shot with a talent scout. How could you expect me to trust anything you say?"

“I don’t know…” Louis shrugs.

“See? You can’t even give me a good reason.”

“Okay, listen. I may have initiated our friendship for all the wrong reasons, but once I got to know you, got to spend time with you, all of that changed. I tried to convince myself otherwise, but it did, because it turned out that I enjoyed spending time with you. And the last time we hung out? Harry, I meant everything I said that day. You’re amazing, and I hate myself that I hurt you the way everyone else has hurt you. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that, but I will spend as long as I have making it up to you, if you let me. Just please Harry, I... I just want us to be friends.”

The air is stagnant between them, as Harry holds Louis’ gaze for a few seconds. At the exact minute it seems like he’s not going to say anything else, is when Harry finally gives in. “I need some time Louis, away from you. I just can’t handle being near you anymore.”

Louis’ head drops to the ground, replying solemnly, “Okay. Just...let me know when you figure it out?” Ironic considering Harry had said the same thing to Louis, not so long ago.

There’s recognition in Harry’s eyes, conveying that he knows why Louis specifically chose to say that back to him, but he just gives a slight nod and says, “I will. Bye.”

As Harry trudges past Louis on his way back to his room, Louis wipes at the one tear that dared to leave his glossy eyes, and runs to the nearest liquor store. He buys whatever his ten dollars can purchase, and heads home, determined to drink every ounce of alcohol the bottle can provide. He doesn't care about the burn, when he takes his first gulp upon entry of his living room. He just wants whatever it's going to take to make him forget every crime that he’s committed. Whatever it’s going to take to make him forget the pain he’s caused to the one person that actually meant something to him.

And maybe if he drinks enough, he’ll even forget Harry altogether.

******************

“Fucking idiot.”

The first thing Louis takes note of is Zayn's voice berating him. The second thing Louis takes note of is how awful his body aches. The third thing Louis takes note of is nausea. Opening his eyes wide, Louis runs straight to the bathroom to empty his stomach. He hasn't woken up this hangover ever. What did he do earlier?

Oh right…Harry. He drank himself stupid because of Harry.

Crawling back, Louis slowly makes his return to bed. Then and only then, does he realize that not only is Zayn in his room, but also Liam and Niall. This must be bad.

“Fuck, I feel like shit.”

Niall snorts, “Well what’d you expect was gonna happen when you decided to drink the entire bottle of whiskey?”

Hiding almost entirely under his covers, Louis groans, “Not. This.”

“Wanna tell us what the fuck happened,” Zayn demands furiously.

“No.”

Liam sinks down on the bed, making it easier for Louis to notice his disappointed expression. “Louis, come on. Something must have happened for you to switch like that last night.”

"I ran after Harry," Louis huffs. "I didn't find him last night, but this morning...this morning I saw him, and he confirmed that he wants nothing to do with me. And it upset me. I just…I just wanted to make myself feel better."

“Look,” Zayn begins. “It’s okay to feel upset, and it’s okay to want to have a few glasses, but this is a death sentence. If drinking becomes an issue, I will not hesitate to take matters into my own hands. It’s for your own good.”

“Alright, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

“Not for nothing, but maybe it’s time to move on from this Harry thing that’s going on,” Niall offers up.

“Why?”

"Because it's clearly making you a little crazy. I don't even understand it myself. First, you say you hate him, and now it's like you're obsessed with him. I don't know. I mean, what's even going on?"

"Nothing's going on," Louis immediately defends, until three sets of eyes bore into him enough to guilt the truth out. "Okay, fine. Nothing is going on. Except that, well I like him. All this time I was trying to hate him, and the only thing I accomplished was actually fucking falling for him. I mean how stupid am I!? And now he’s the one that hates me. It’s fucking ironic, it really fucking is.”

“Wait,” Zayn comments. “I thought you said you like him...as a friend?”

“No, I like like him, as a...well, you get it.”

“Louis,” Niall sympathetically says.

“No, it’s fine. I know he’ll never like me like that again.”

“Again?” Liam asks.

“Oh, yeah. Well at the very beginning when all of us went out, Harry wanted us to hook up, he was practically begging. God, it was the hardest thing I had to do, but I turned him down. Fucking stupid. I should have done something while I had the chance!”

"As I said earlier, you should try moving on," Niall says. "You're coming off a little desperate, and you don't want to overwhelm Harry. Give him time, and while you do, try dating someone else. Get your mind off of him."

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Zayn comments. “I know this guy Greg, who’s been asking me about Louis for a while now. Can’t hurt?”

“And you’re just now telling me about him?”

“I didn’t think you wanted a relationship.”

“I don’t. I mean…maybe?”

"Well, I'll give you his number anyway,” Zayn decides as he rips a piece of paper and starts scrawling down the digits. “Now that that's all figured out, I'm going to the studio and leaving you here to suffer the consequences of what you did last night. Boys? You coming?"

“Yeah,” they say in unison.

Once they’re all gone, Louis glances down at the set of numbers Zayn handed him. Maybe he is a little desperate for Harry? But he can’t help it. Now that’s he opened the door allowing him to acknowledge his attraction towards the other boy, it’s like a flood of emotions has broken through the dam. He doesn’t want to scare Harry away though, especially when Harry pretty much despises him at the moment. So it probably is best that Louis tugs the reigns back.

And one date can’t be that bad.

******************

One date is definitely that bad.

Greg is okay, a little dull and not overly good looking, but he's a decent guy. It's just that - there's no comparison. Harry blows this guy out of the fucking universe. Where Harry is lengthy and broad, Greg is shorter and slim. Where Harry is green eyes and pink lips, Greg is brown eyes and peach. Where Harry is talented and passionate, Greg is…Greg is just not.

To put it simply, Greg is not Harry.  

“So I told him,” Greg continues with the story he’s been telling Louis for the past ten minutes. “I told him that he needs to shut up, and then he did. He actually did.”

“Riveting.”

Greg dismisses Louis’ sarcasm or doesn’t get it, because he smiles, “Thanks. I always think that’s a cool story to tell people when I get the chance. Do you have any cool stories like that?”

“Being part of a band means I get to have cool stories like that all the time. It’s pretty awesome.”

“Oh yeah,” Greg grins, taking a sip of wine before continuing. “I’ve seen you guys perform a lot. Big fan.”

Louis chews his fries while he answers, “Yeah, Zayn was telling me. How do you know him again?”

“Zayn and I had some art classes together,” Greg briefly explains. Afterwards, he leans into his chair as if he’s about to share a secret, though Louis doesn’t inch forward despite the clear want from Greg. “So, how long do you plan on riding out The Rogue’s wave?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, how long are you gonna keep pushing it? You guys are all Juniors now, right? So I mean, realistically you only have another year before it’s said and done.”

Louis squints his eyes in frustration, straightening his back just a touch as he lifts up his chin, “The Rogue isn't just some hobby to kill time. We're all very serious about it and committed to its future. We plan to ride out the wave as far as it takes us."

“What’re you gonna do when it doesn’t go anywhere?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

"I mean, I'm not trying to offend you," Greg says, "Its just…college is this fantasy world where people think they're gonna achieve their dreams. It's like a little bubble until everyone graduates, and the bubble pops. All those people who thought they were gonna go somewhere are then left with no backup plans, and living at home till they're in their thirties. It's just the way it is."

Louis scoffs, “That's quite pessimistic.”

“Just calling it like it is.”

“You know what? So am I. This has been…disappointing at best. Thanks for the meal.”

In the worst way, Louis wanted to throw his water on Greg's face, but he refrained. He's proud of himself for that considering it was definitely a close call. Exiting the restaurant, Louis takes his phone out of his pocket, angrily typing away a text to Zayn, Liam, and Niall.

All three of them replied.

******************

“What a fucking asshat,” Liam says over his glass of beer. “I can’t believe Greg would say that.”

“I fucking know. Glad I got out of there as fast as I could.”

The bar they're in is packed for a Monday, which is a little surprising to Louis. Sure, their campus didn't have classes today, but they do tomorrow, and people are partying like it's a Friday. Oh well.

More entertainment for Louis.

Within an hour drinks are consumed, jokes are shared, and laughter resounds between them. Zayn eventually goes off to acquire another drink with Niall, while Liam is waiting for Sophia to meet them up. In the meantime, Louis’ on the lookout, scanning for anyone worthy of taking home. There are a lot of options; it's just a matter of finding the right one.

“Li, I’m gonna go dance.”

“Alright, see you later.”

Strutting down to the dancefloor, the lyrics of the song playing drums in his ears. It’s Electric Love, by Borns, and it’s one of Louis’ favorite songs to blast on his stereo with the windows down.

Candy
She's sweet like candy in my veins
Baby, I'm dying for another taste

Eyes connect with a paler set of blue, and Louis doesn’t waste a second of the song before he’s dancing in the person’s arms. Grinding against him in the filthiest way his hips can manage, Louis leans against the firm chest behind him. It’s not comfortable, it's not the body that he wants to lean up to, but it serves its purpose. Letting the guy roam his curious hands across Louis' curves, Louis closes his eyes as the lyrics tug him away.

Baby you're like lightning in a bottle
I can't let you go now that I got it

Suddenly, there are drunk lips pressed against his sweaty neck, sucking at Louis’ pressure point. It feels too good to stop, so he doesn’t. Giving in to his basic instincts, Louis moans while the guy continues his assault. But in the most muddled part of his brain, Louis’ senses alert him of something near. Something watching. And when he opens his eyes, he realizes his intuition was right.

Harry watches from a distance as Louis is being ravaged. His eyes darken with disgust as he witnesses the scene. Louis should let him go. He shouldn’t bother himself with Harry at all, but he can’t help it. He saw Harry, and he needs him. And he needs him to look at Louis with something better than what he is. When Harry runs out through the back door, Louis doesn’t question it at all. He runs out there, too. Leaving behind a very confused stranger alone on the floor.

All I need is to be struck
By your electric love
Baby, your electric love
Electric love

“Harry! Wait!”

Turning around to Louis’ call, Harry stops and stares with anger streaming in every inch of his unyieldingly beautiful face. Louis suffers from the knowledge that he'll never ever be immune to him.

“What?”

Panting out as he catches his breath, Louis asks, “What was that?”

“Hm?”

“What was that just now?” He points at Harry’s chest, “You looked at me like I was…like I was the grossest thing you’d ever seen. Am I really that low in your eyes, that you think I’m disgusting to even look at now?”

Harry’s brows raise at the accusation, green eyes alight. “I would never look at you like that!”

“But you just were!”

Harry steps closer into Louis’ space, backing him up near the wall of the bar. “No, I wasn’t. I was looking at him .”

“Him?” Louis questions, though it clicks nearly a second after. The guy Louis was dancing with – Harry was looking at him with disgust. “Why would you care about him? What? Are you jealous or something?”

“No!”

Despite his defense, it’s etched all over Harry’s face. “Oh my god, you are. You…you can't do that to me! You don't even want to be my friend, so how can you stand here being jealous of another guy kissing me!? That's so unfair," Louis yells with aggravation tarnishing his words.

"I can't help it!" Harry growls back, inching closer to Louis. "You just…god, Lou. You’re fucking everything I want, and everything I can’t fucking have! You hurt me to a point I can’t even explain. But I still…I still…”

“You what?”

There is no verbal answer, and Louis supposes he'll never get one. It doesn't matter though, because instead of using words to convey what he means, Harry surges forward, utilizing his lips instead. Louis falls back into the wall behind him, pushing his own mouth fiercely against the soft one kissing him. It's not the answer Louis wanted, but it’s exactly the kind he needed. As moans collide with hesitant breaths, Harry takes Louis’ heart hostage, playing his emotions as easily as Harry plays his guitar. Louis melts into a puddle, weak to Harry’s touch and taste.

It's overwhelming and yet not enough, all at once.

Drowning
You make my heart beat like the rain
Surround me
Hold me deep beneath your weight

Gripping at Harry's hair, eliciting a bourbon groan from Harry's gasping lungs - is the last thing Louis' going to remember because, in an instant, Harry’s lips are gone.

“I…” Harry breaks apart with heavy breaths. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Louis’ jaw slacks, “Are you…are you serious?”

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”

"Wait!" Louis all but cries, "Harry, please. Please don't leave me again."

Turning around at that comment, Harry peers pleadingly back at Louis. His forest gaze threatening to break every inch of Louis’ heart. “I’m sorry. I have to.”

And with the oncoming breeze, he vanishes into the night. Leaving Louis to crumble in the empty alleyway, cursing himself for falling so hard for Harry Styles. Cursing himself for not being able to stop liking him. Cursing himself for still wanting to go back to him, despite the pain he’s putting Louis through.

All I need is to be struck
By your electric love

******************

POV Switch (Liam & Zayn in the club while Louis is still dancing with the guy)

“Li?”

Zayn leans into Liam’s sweat sheen body, as Liam pockets away his cellphone. “Yeah,” he stutters at Zayn’s intrusion.

“I’m worried about Louis. I know we were just texting about this, but...I just can’t. I can’t let him make his own mistakes. It’s too hard. He’s like an abused puppy, going back to the source of his pain, hoping to find love. It’s not going to happen.”

“Zayn,” Liam calmly replies, always knowing how to soothe the rising waves of Zayn’s emotions. “You have to let him figure it out on his own. This isn't easy for anybody. I'd probably be the same way as Louis, if I were in his situation."

“I wouldn’t.”

“No? So if you hurt the person you really liked, you wouldn’t do whatever it takes to get them to forgive you?”

Liam’s gaze riots against Zayn’s heart, sparking it to life. “I...I guess I would. But I’d like to think I’d never hurt somebody the way Louis hurt Harry.”

“Sometimes something as simple as lying about your true feelings is all it takes to break someone’s heart.”

The words taunt Zayn. Something as simple as lying about your true feelings. At the thought of hiding being as hurtful as what Louis had done, Zayn wants to declare his love almost immediately. Admitting to how he's wanted Liam since Freshman year, when Louis first introduced the two. But he’d also have to admit that he’s been too afraid. Too afraid to say anything in all this time, because while the chemistry is overwhelmingly evident between them, Liam has never pushed past their subtle flirting.

And Zayn would rather have unrequited love for Liam than be heartbroken by him.

“Liam...you know, speaking of feelings. I uh-”

“Li!”

The boys' heads turn to an outside source, and Zayn disintegrates on the spot. Sophia. Liam waves at her, but turns back to Zayn quickly. “Can we talk about this another time?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Zayn sorrowfully says. It’s as if Liam can read between the lines, because he stands there for a few more seconds, staring his warmth into Zayn’s soul. However, all good things must come to an end. There’s a hand that lightly squeezes onto Zayn’s, reassuring him of something though what, he doesn't know. And as hurriedly as it had come, it leaves, taking all of Liam with it.

Zayn downs the rest of his drink in mourning. Maybe their love isn't as destined as Zayn had once thought? Maybe it's time he ‘practice what he preaches,' and finally give up on this? Give up on love. With that in mind, Zayn peers into the crowd to find Louis, only he's no longer dancing. Instead, rushing after a retreating figure Zayn assumes to be Harry.

Sighing, he notes, though giving up is never easy. But what else can he do?

******************

POV (Louis)

The Bridge's performance is in three weeks. That's all that's left. The first weekend of November and the talent scout will be here, ready to listen to them perform. Louis feels unprepared. He feels like he's going to be sick. And he's driving himself crazy with trying to write a song. There are words, phrases, melodies that all come to mind, but nothing sticks. Nothing lasts.

He’s hopeless.

As it always is when the weather is especially lovely, the lawn is packed. Students are apparently wanting to spend their time outside, before the chill of winter arrives. Louis spots Liam in the corner of the field, little ways from the crowd, and sets his new destination. He hadn't really planned on parting from the confines of his apartment, but the fresh air is a nice change. He's glad Liam had messaged him and dragged him out, he needed a break more than he realized.

"Hey, Li."

Picking his head up from the textbook in his lap, Liam’s grin stretches wide. “Louis! Glad you came, man. I hate being out here by myself.”

"I don't mind when there's not that many people out," Louis explains as he gets down onto the ground and sits, "But yeah it can be weird when it's crowded like it is today."

“How’re you doing in your classes? I feel like I’m drowning.”

Louis chuckles, "You say that, and then you’re gonna get all A's. And it’s alright, as good as it can be since I have no interest."

“I thought you liked music production?”

“I do…it’s just that right now, I’m not motivated to do anything.”

A pause intrudes in on the conversation, taking control over the moment until Liam finally brings up the massive elephant between them. "Have you talked to him at all?"

Ever since last Monday when Louis came back inside the bar and told everyone that he was leaving, and didn't tell anyone why - Harry hasn't been mentioned. They all know it had something to do with him, they just don't know how. And Louis was in no position then, to explain the situation. "I…no. Haven't seen him either."

Hazelnut eyes round with worry, “You know, I know Niall told you to move on, and I don’t necessarily disagree, but I feel like you both have a lot of unresolved emotions. I know you talked, but maybe it’s worth trying to talk to him again?”

"Li, it's not gonna go anywhere. Trust me. Whatever it was that was going on between us...it's done. Officially."

“You say that now, and then you’re gonna see him, and you’ll run back to him like you always do.”

Louis was not going to mention that he already realized this about himself. Not at all. But he can’t help it. He probably will always go back to Harry; he doesn’t know how he could ever stop.

Harry’s become his addiction.

“Yeah, you’re right. I should probably work on that.”

“I just want you to be happy man. Whatever you have to do to get there, I’m gonna support. If that means you need Harry in your life or if that means you don’t – either way, I’m there for you.”

“This is why you’re my best friend.”

Liam deadpans, “I’m your best friend because you came into my shower and harassed me while I was naked until I agreed to join your band.”

“That too,” Louis chuckles.

"I will say though, that maybe you should try focusing on one thing at a time? We only have three weeks left till our performance, and you still want to write another original. Put some of your pent-up frustration into that. See how it goes?"

Louis sighs, “I’ve tried.”

“Try again.”

“Okay, okay. I will. No promises.”

Liam laughs, eyes gleaming because of it, “Wouldn’t expect any different.”

Not that he has any idea what he’s going to write, but tomorrow, Louis will sit down and try. For Liam.

******************

Green eyes haunt me

No.

Your cherry lips so sweet

No.

I need you near me

No. No. No!

Every line, every word, every letter – Louis is crossing off the page. It's not right. It doesn’t sound right. He wants to write about the reality, the pain, of being in love. Not the fantasy of it. He wants to be honest. More honest than he's ever been. If he's singing a song about Harry, he's singing a song about how Harry fucks him up. How they both just keep hurting one another. And yet, despite it all, Louis goes back to him.

Back to him.

Back to him.

Mulling over the line, writing it down, crossing it out, and writing it again - Louis thinks he's stumbled onto something. It could work, but it could not. He's just going to have to try and see. Making a large cup of tea, Louis sets down with his keyboard and gets to writing.

It takes ten more crumpled up pages, twenty more crossed out lines, and two more cups of tea, but it happens. Hours later a song is born, and Louis is a proud songwriter.

******************

“You don’t have band practice on Wednesdays,” is the first thing Zayn says to Louis, Liam, and Niall when he walks into the living room Wednesday night.

“Sorry Z, I finally wrote the new original, and I want us to be perfect at performing it for the talent scout.”

"Oh,” Zayn beams, “That's awesome Louis, congrats! Well, don't mind me. I'm just gonna go to my room."

“Yeah Louis,” Liam adds. “This song really is fucking great. It reminds me of what it was like with Sophia a little.”

“Are you guys not together anymore?” Niall asks.

“No, we ended things the other day. It just wasn’t working out.”

Louis smirks, “Well…I know a certain someone who’d be interested in dating you.”

“Who?”

"I'm not saying. You're just gonna have to figure it out."

Liam smacks Louis across the back of his head, “Asshole.”

“Yeah yeah, now! Let’s get back to playing. Start on my count - one, two, three!”

An hour later and Louis can tell that it needs a lot of work, but the song is coming together, and Louis can't wait for the talent scout to see it live. It's going to blow him away, and hopefully everyone else in the room, too.

As he’s packing up his guitar, Niall confesses, “You know, Louis. I really think we can win with this song. I really do.”

With the broadest grin he's held in a while, Louis replies, "Me too, Niall. Me fucking too."

Harry is still their competition, but Louis doesn't care anymore. He genuinely hopes Harry puts on his best performance, and if not, Louis will be proud of him either way. But at the end of the day, Louis can only care about one thing right now, and that’s himself.

And currently, he’s feeling pretty good about the odds.

******************

Friday night is the only night this weekend Louis is allowing time to go out. Saturday, he plans to lock himself up in his room until all his coursework is completed, and Sunday is being spent editing and revising the song. He needs it to be absolutely perfect.

This week, like all the others, passed in a rush of practices and lectures. Finally though, finally Louis is having his night of freedom. And not that he should, but he will be taking full advantage of it. Louis doesn’t want to be as drunk as last time, but he wants to be drunk enough to take someone home. And for him, that’s a solid number of drinks more than where he’s currently at.

The club they arrived at tonight is relatively new, and even though it's been insanely difficult to get into, Niall made a few calls. Louis shouldn't be surprised honestly. Somehow, Niall knows everyone.

Leading the group of guys further into the club, Niall says to those behind him, “Alright guys, table service awaits!”

“Niall,” Liam asks, “How’d you get us table service? I can’t afford this!”

“No worries,” he winks. “We’re covered.”

Just as Niall makes his way to the table, someone else comes over, intercepting their journey. “Niall,” the guy welcomes. He’s around their age, Loius notes, with lighter brown hair gelled at the top. Louis doesn’t recognize him, but Niall certainly does since he happily listens in on what the guy is saying, “Glad you made it out tonight! The table is all set for you and your friends, so I hope you all enjoy it!”

"Thanks, Josh. We definitely will!"

Josh’s cheeks flush when Niall gives him a hug, and Louis’ starting to understand how Niall might have been able to cover the fees for this expensive night.

“Bye,” Niall waves as he takes off towards the table again.

“So Ni,” Louis teases. “Who’s that?”

"Josh? Oh, he's just this guy in one of my classes. Met him last semester. He also happens to be the manager of this fine establishment."

“I think he’s into you.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Hm, interesting.”

Louis doesn't get to find out how Niall really feels about that information because they come to a leather booth specifically reserved for them. After that, it's drink after drink after drink until Louis' dragging whoever is closest, out onto the dance floor. At first it’s Zayn, who spends a few songs grinding up against Louis teasingly. Next it’s Liam, who stands to the side, feeling embarrassed the entire time that he’s there. After is Niall, the most entertaining of them all, dancing with a drink in his hand and laughter on his tongue. And Louis, Louis is thankful for it all.

Eventually though, his friends scatter off towards other people they know or want to know, and Louis finds himself alone. Sucking down one last drink, he sways his way over to someone he's been making eyes with all night. The guy - with his Middle Eastern features and ebony irises, tempts Louis enough to dance, attaching his tanned hands onto Louis’ sides. To Louis, he’s everything that Harry's not. And for once, that’s a good thing.

“Hey pretty,” his mouth purrs into Louis’ ear. “That feel good?”

Louis doesn't answer, just nods his head as he's tangled up in someone else. He lets the music take him over, pushing and pulling his hips to the beat. The guy behind him likes it, if the moans he releases against Louis are any indication. It doesn't matter really, as long as he's willing to take Louis home.

Twenty minutes later, and Louis’ thoughts are finally heard. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Yes,” Louis answers without a second thought.

“Alright, let me go tell my friends and grab my coat. Meet you out front?”

“Sure thing.”

The guy leans in to kiss Louis' cheek as a promise of more to come, and leaves only once Louis' entirely desperate for more. Unfair. Smirking as the other guy disappears into the crowd, Louis turns on his heels to make his way to his friends, as well. Except, when Louis turns around, he bumps into a body with an unfortunately familiar scent.

“Hey, Lou.”

Peering up through his eyelashes, Louis frowns at the sight. “I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me, Harry.”

Chartreuse eyes roll with a heavy dose of sarcasm, “You wish.”

“Okay…I’m gonna go now.”

“Don’t go home with him,” Harry snaps. The green of his irises no longer warm, as they coldly take in Louis’ appearance.

Louis’ own blue strike back, “So you were watching me!”

“It was coincidence, I swear.”

“Why should I listen to you? Hm? You have no say in what I do with my life, Harry.”

“I…I know. I just-”

“You know, I don’t get it. You wanted me at one point, at least I thought you did. And now that…now that I want you, you-”

Harry cuts in, “You want me?”

“Duh,” Louis exclaims, “I don’t go around kissing just anyone.”

“But you,” Harry points, “You said just friends! You tried setting me up with other people. ”

“And that was my bad. But I thought it was pretty obvious how I truly felt.”

“Fuck Louis. I’ve been avoiding you because you told me you didn’t want anything more with me. You told me that! So I didn’t want to get my hopes up, thinking that just because you were kissing me, that it meant anything to you."

“That’s really why? Are you serious?”

“Yes!”

“Fuck,” Louis mumbles, running his frustrated fingers through his hair.

“Look, we clearly need to talk. But I don’t want to do it here. So please, Louis. Don’t go home with him.”

“I…yeah. Fine. But we need to talk, soon. ”

Harry bends down, leaving a chaste kiss across Louis’ dry lips, making sure every ounce of Harry’s essence is left behind in the single print, before sauntering off. Louis’ immobile, caught up in the aftershock.

He and Harry might actually have a chance? Harry might actually want him still?

Louis knows he shouldn’t get excited in the magic that Harry is, again. Shouldn’t buy into the wonder that he emits. But he has no control over his emotions. Over his heart. And if Louis wants to bargain away his love again, only for it to get crushed once more, well then…that’s his own fault really.

******************

If I could gather up the nerve
I'd put my feelings into words
And if I weren't so young, or stupid, or restless
I might be able to just soon forget this

If I Only Had the Heart; The Maine

Memories of smooth pomegranate lips, brushing their bittersweet love into Louis’ mouth play on repeat. It’s been twenty-four hours since the incident, as Louis has so kindly named it within his mind, and he’s panicking. Why hasn’t he heard from Harry yet? Maybe Louis should send the text himself? It’s a terrible cycle of, ‘what if,’ recurring in his head, and he wants it to stop. But until Harry does something, says something, it won’t.

The only thing Louis can do is distract himself.

Which is exactly what he’s doing. Saturday was designated for school work, and Louis made no changes to his plans just because he ran into Harry. His life can’t be placed on hold, and truthfully, Louis doesn’t want to change it anyway. If Harry wants to see him, Louis can make adjustments then.

They talked? Unlike Niall and Liam who genuinely have spent time with Harry without Louis, Zayn has only met him once. Did Zayn go up to him, or was it the other way around? Louis murmurs to himself, fuck Zayn for making him worry about a new set of issues. He finally had been focused on his work. Although, other than a paper he has to outline, Louis is almost done. Maybe it won’t be bad to take a break? Maybe Louis can even go out tonight? Actually, he shouldn’t. Louis knows the only reason he’d really want to go out, is if he were to run into Harry again. Which would defeat the purpose of waiting till Harry contacts him. Instead, Louis figures out something better than going out. Grabbing his phone from the table where it’s resting, Louis types out a new message.

To Niall and Liam – Movie night? Z’s bringing Chinese, you guys can bring pizza :)

Louis doesn't remember the last time they all hung out at the apartment. Obviously, the guys are over frequently for practice, but they haven't just sat back and relaxed. They used to have a scheduled movie night at least once a week last year, and it seems that since the start of the new semester, they've forgotten about their old tradition. Meaning, Louis needs to revive it.

And ten minutes later, his phone notifies him that apparently everyone else thinks so too. Their friends night is back on.

******************

“Fuck, this fried rice is delicious. I haven’t had Chinese food in so long.”

“Niall,” Louis argues. “You had it last week.”

“Oh…yeah!”

Niall and Liam are sitting on the couch, while Louis is nestled into his favorite spot - his blue chair. Zayn is down on the floor, legs crossed as he's eating from the containers littering their coffee table. One of the Marvel movies is playing in the background, and thus far, everything has been entirely stress-free. This is the distraction Louis needed.

“So Louis, want me to tell you about Harry, yet?”

Niall and Liam both gawk at Zayn, who’s smirking in Louis’ direction, while Louis internally is punching Zayn in the face for ruining his stress-free environment. Attempting to come across composed, despite his insides suggesting otherwise, Louis answers, “Yeah, I guess. What happened?”

"Okay," Zayn starts. "So I was walking by the lawn on my way to the studio when I was bombarded by that ape. Came running over to me, and asking if I had a second to chat. I told him I didn't, but he didn't seem to care."

“Not for nothing Z, but can you get to the point,” Niall teases.

"Fine. You guys are too simple-minded for good storytelling anyways," he sarcastically says, as he sticks out his tongue. "Anyway. Harry was asking about you, of course. Just wanted to know how you were since last night. I told him that if he wants to know anything about you, then he should grow up and ask you himself. After that, he nodded his head and walked off."

“Zayn…”

“What?”

Louis sighs, “That could have been done a little nicer.”

“Why? It’s not like you’re gonna defend yourself.”

Liam cuts in, "What Zayn is trying to say, Louis – is that you tend to let Harry off easy. If he wants to talk to you or wants you even, you should make him work for it."

“But it’s not like that. We did talk briefly at the club last night!”

"Wait," Niall comments, "When did you even see him? I last saw you dancing with that one knock-off version of Zayn before we left."

Louis rolls his eyes, "It was right after that guy walked off, that I bumped into Harry. Turns out the whole reason he's been avoiding me is that he thought I didn't like him that way. Well, among other things."

“Really?”

“Yeah! I feel so bad, all this time I thought he knew how I felt, but he didn’t. And I get it, from his perspective, it probably seems like I was the one pushing him away. Which I mean, I really was in the beginning.”

“So what are you gonna do now,” Liam asks.

“We’re supposed to talk. I thought he would have messaged me already, but I guess not.”

“Well Louis,” Zayn reassures, “It seemed like he was concerned about you. Maybe he’s just not sure where to start? Or maybe he just needs a push? You could always be the one to text him too."

“I thought you just said that if he wants me, he’s gonna have to work for it?”

“Yeah, but that was before. Now it seems like maybe you should be the one to put in a little effort? Prove to him that you really do want to be with him? And not for nothing, but you have a lot to make up for.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe I’ll text him tomorrow then?”

“Sure. Good luck,” Zayn grins.

“Alright, now that that’s over, can we get back to the movie?” Niall chides.

Louis sasses back, “Ughh Niall, go home.”

"I will after we finish this movie!"

The rest of Saturday offers Louis a chance to laugh, and to openly act however he wants with his friends. It’s felt like years since the last time he's been completely himself, and Louis is not one to waste such an opportunity when it comes. Every day this year, there's been some small ounce of disappointment or one bitter drag of fear. But not tonight. Tonight, surrounded by the people he loves and cares for, was so much more.  

It was freeing.

******************

Forty-eight hours later and Louis is hesitating, his finger held above the send button waiting for enough courage to press it down. It's just a simple text, he reminds himself. Harry agreed they need to talk, meaning he wants it too. It's not one-sided, and Louis shouldn't be worried that he's reading too much into it. One. Text.

Send.

It’s an opening. If Harry doesn’t take it, then there’s nothing more Louis can do. At least though, at least he’ll know it’s there. That Louis’ providing him the chance for them to reconcile their differences. It's all down to miscommunication. If they could just sit and talk, they could figure it all out.

Well, maybe not everything - but everything that has to do with them.

After the message is delivered, Louis let’s out a lengthy exhale. It's time to start his day, and  Harry will respond when Harry responds. So Louis gets to work, getting himself caught up with editing the song, hosting another band practice, and hanging with his friends. When it's all said and done, Louis' washing up in the shower after eating ramen for dinner, and he's only then remembering that he never received a reply. It's nothing to worry about, he tells himself as he lathers shampoo into his hair. Nothing at all.

A few days pass, the countdown to the Bridge’s performance is on, and Louis still has not received a response from Harry. After the second day of nothing, Louis decided to block Harry’s number. If he wants any chance of talking to Louis at this point, he’ll have to confront him face-to-face. And really, Louis doesn’t have the time to waste wishing beautiful boys would text him.

In place of, Louis dives into his course load and drowns into his song. It's officially done. The only thing left to do is practice until it's perfected. Or until the notes come as easily to them as brushing their teeth. It's getting there at least, and that's a good thing.

“So Louis,” Niall says around a bite of food. “We’re performing the new song, but what else?”

“Oh god, I’ve been so caught up, I forgot we need three songs. Liam, what do you think?”

"I think we need a classic cover and another original? No Control's always a fan favorite."

Nodding, Louis agrees, “Yeah, true. It’s our most popular one that’s for sure. Okay, we’ll do No Control, a classic cover, and do the new song last. What’s our cover?”

“Wonderwall?”

“Niall, I’m gonna physically beat you every time you bring that up.”

The mentioned boy giggles at the attack. “Fine, uhm…Closing Time, Jumper, I don’t know?”

Liam scratches his head, “What about Mr. Brightside? Or I Miss You by Blink182?”

“Good choices,” Louis applauds. “Let’s go with Mr. Brightside.”

“Works for me,” Niall answers.

Louis leans against his chair and huffs, “I really hope they like us.”

“The talent scout,” Liam asks to make sure.

“Yeah,” Louis confirms.

“They will. They’re gonna be blown away. And we’ll get to jet off to Los Angeles, produce music, perform at concerts, and live the dream.”

Wanting to taste the sweet words heavy on his tongue, Louis repeats, “Live the dream.”

“Yeah,” Niall says. “And it’s gonna be amazing! So no worrying about it!”

“You’re right. The more I worry, the more nervous I get, and the more likely it is for me to doubt myself when I’m singing.”

“Exactly,” Liam finalizes. “Just don’t care about anything other than putting on the best performance of your life.”

Louis nods his head, “Easy.”

“Easy” Liam and Niall mimic together.

******************

“It’s Halloween.”

“No.”

“It’s Halloween.”

Louis reiterates, “No.”

“Ugh,” Zayn sighs. “We have to go out! It’s religion.”

"I have one week till my performance. I can't be getting wasted all weekend. We need to practice."

"No," Zayn inches closer towards his face, "You need a break! The song is good Louis, so good. There's nothing more you could possibly do to make it sound any better. And you've been pushing Niall and Liam, which I get. But tomorrow, Halloween , you should all just have fun. You’ll have the rest of the weekend to sober up, and then all week to practice again!”

Louis argues, “You just want us to go so that you can spend time with Liam.”

“That’s not true! I want to spend time with all of you.”

“What even is happening with you guys?”

“Nothing, and that’s beside the point. The point is, is that we’re going out for Halloween.”

“Zayn, I…”

“Come on. Seriously, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

A list forms in Louis’ head that he doesn’t want to admit out loud.

“Fine! Fuck it. I’ll text Niall and Li. We’re gonna have to get outfits.”

Smirking, Zayn supplies, “I actually have an idea for mine.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll just have to wait to see it tomorrow.”

“Fuck off,” Louis chides.

Halloween could be a good break from the insane stress they've all been induced by these past practices. Louis doesn't mean to push. He just wants it amazing. However, Halloween shouldn't be an issue. One day can't hurt that much.

“Alright, I texted them.”

Zayn pats Louis on the back eagerly, “Halloween is going to be amazing!”

In retrospect, Louis should have known this was not going to be the case.  

******************

Struggling. Struggling is the perfect word to describe Louis' current state that night. His head's against his charcoal pillow, listening to his favorite Arctic Monkey's album on repeat. He's in need of inspiration, confidence, and hope. As the performance nears, Louis' anxiety has made a bold entrance back into his life. Always uninvited. Always unwelcomed.

But she stays long past her time is due, lingering on Louis' neurons till she feels the need to depart slowly. Leaving reckless traces of herself everywhere. It's a constant struggle. With Louis fighting to clean her off his skin though she's a bacteria, he can't see. Fighting to poison her from his mind though she's a disease he can't kill. Anxiety's laughing at him in the distance, but he's struggling to prove her wrong. Struggling to beat her once and for all.

Turning over on his side, Louis pulls the covers over himself, snuggly fitting them to his shape. He wants his music to take him away, erase the irrational parts circulating within. The best way to do that is through distraction. Turning up the volume to the song that’s playing, Louis sings along loudly to the lyrics. Remembering only once a certain line emerges, and plays up his memories as the words disembark from his lips, that this song means something to Louis now.

When she laughs, the heavens hum a stun-gun lullaby

Fuck…the lyrics echo and all Louis can think of is the first time he spoke to Harry. Seeing him bask in the light, glowing against all else around him - ethereal. Louis should have never created the plan to take him down. What was he thinking? He ruined his chance to be with the most incredible person he's ever known. Fate doesn't give an opportunity like that more than once. He had Harry in his hands, and he lied so that he could gain in his career. Or hopefully, gain. There's a serious possibility that Louis won't even get contacted by the scout, making every effort he made utterly pointless.

Such a fucking idiot.

If Louis ever has the chance to be with Harry again, he would never abuse it. He’d treat him with the most respect he could possibly give, and love Harry unconditionally for the rest of time. Harry deserves the world – Louis could never give him that, but he would try.

Dammit, he wants to try.

Along the path to sleep, Louis pictures Harry kissing him in the alleyway. Looming over him, smelling of alcohol and sweat. Louis licks his lips, wanting nothing more than to taste Harry on his mouth again. Disappointedly, there’s nothing left. Louis’ aware that it’s gone; has known it’s been lost for quite a while now, but it doesn’t stop him from licking his lips all night. It doesn’t stop him from hoping to find any trace that remains, trapped within the confines of his cells.

******************

The day leading up to Halloween rushes by and before long, Louis’ dressed in a robber outfit with Niall and Liam. Zayn comes in, tilting his head at their black shirts and black pants, curiously wondering about their attire.

“Let me guess? Ninjas?”

“Robbers,” Niall supplies. “Coming to steal your heart,” he adds a wink for good measure.

Zayn facepalms, "Shut the fuck up."

“Best thing we could come up with.”

Sassing in retaliation, Louis says, “Well if you didn’t waste all your money on food…”

“Food is how I live, Louis. I have to eat.”

Liam mumbles, “Not that much.”

“Okay okay! I get it. Now Zayn, for someone so judgemental you seem to be lacking in your costume.”

Niall was right, Louis notes. Zayn is standing beside them in the living room in his normal attire. “Yeah Z. What happened to your great idea?”

“This is it.”

Liam, Niall, and Louis stare at Zayn like he’s lost his mind.

“I’m serious. I’m going as an artist.”

“You’re an idiot,” Louis deadpans.

The room breaks out into laughter with Zayn chuckling along, “It’s unassuming.”

“No, it’s unoriginal. Fuck, whatever! We don’t have time for this, we’re going to Eleanor’s to pregame, and then the bars. I need to be drunk like two hours ago.”

“If it’s any consolation Zayn, I like it,” Liam divulges.

Louis glares oddly at Liam, before turning to give Zayn the same look as the boy flushes brightly, causing him to fumble through saying, “Thank you.” What is going on between them? As he’s making a mental reminder to question Zayn again later, Louis is side-tracked by Niall walking over to him. While the other two are collecting their belongings, Niall speaks quietly to him, “Louis?”

“Hm?”

“Can you…” Niall’s eyes sadden ever so slightly, “Can you not drink so much tonight?”

“You want me to celebrate sober?”

“No. I’m just asking you to handle what you drink. I don’t want to drag you to the hospital later, okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m not gonna do that anymore, I promise. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Really?”

Louis lays his right hand on his heart, "I swear."

Niall's tight-lipped grin is tainted with doubt. Louis doesn't blame Niall for feeling that way because honestly? Louis doubts himself, too.

******************

But baby, don't leave me
Shut your mind off and let your heart hear me
I won't trade this for nothing
I may not ever get my shit together
But ain't nobody gonna love you better

Don’t Leave; MØ

Louis' wasted. Not just on his drink, but on his friends, and on this night. The music in the club is reverberating within his bones, procuring him to dance along unabashedly. It's a sea of vampires, werewolves, zombies, and skeletons – all swaying in the midst of a fog at the center of the floor. People are everywhere, and Louis is in his element.

"Happy fucking Halloween," Niall leans his head back and screams, sending his voice above the crowd. He's dancing with a girl in sugar skull makeup, one hand on her hips, and one hand on his drink.

Giggling, Louis shakes his head in disbelief until he goes back to his dancing. There have been a few guys eyeing him, but he doesn’t make any moves. For once, he doesn’t want to worry about someone else. He just wants to worry about himself, and making sure that he has a great night.

“Niall, I’m gonna get another drink.”

Niall nods, waving Louis off as he walks from their spot. Heading up to the bar, the counter is blocked by more people than Louis’ seen out all year. He squeezes his way between the bodies, shoving until he gets to the bar. All he wants is one jack and coke, and then he’s done for the night. That’s it. Of course, it takes centuries before any of the bartenders even acknowledge Louis’ presence, and almost twice as long till they come up and ask him for his order.

By the time Louis has his new drink in hand, there’s a new cluster of people behind him, all trying to grab drinks, too. He makes his best effort to squeeze through again, but someone’s grabbing his arm and reeling him back before he’s made it out.

“Louis?”

Fuck. No.

Shifting his head to a sight he doesn't want to view, Louis' mouth parts. Harry. Always Harry. Standing in front of him in an insanely tantalizing pirate's costume. The tight brown pants hug against his thighs, and the billowy white shirt on top does nothing to hide the beautiful expanse of Harry's chest beneath. Louis' mouth waters, but he'd blame it on his drink a million times before admitting it's because of the body in front of him.

Coming back to his senses, Louis voices sternly, “No.”

“Wait, please,” Harry’s sorrowful green irises blaze like a neon sign inside the club. Making damn sure that Louis remembers their color for the rest of his life.

He couldn’t forget it, even if he tried.

Feeling vulnerable, Louis tries to walk off again, but Harry grasps him by the wrist. In his grip, Louis fires back, “You had your chance!”

Confusion steals Harry’s previous expression, “Didn’t you see my text?”

Text? Harry texted him?

“Uh, no.”

Rubbing his fingers over his face in aggravation, Harry calmly says, “I tried explaining it all to you. Well, I tried explaining it to Zayn first, but he didn’t seem to wanna talk to me. I didn’t mean to respond to your message so late. I broke my phone on the way home from the bar that night, and my mom had to wire me some money so that I could have enough to get another one. Which I’m sure you know, takes some time to process. And I’ve been looking for you on campus, but I haven’t been able to find you anywhere. I wasn’t planning on going out tonight, but I was hoping that maybe you’d be out. This is actually the fifth place I’ve tried. Glad I finally found you.”

It’s a lot to process, and there are so many questions coursing through his head, and yet all Louis manages to say is, “You broke your phone?”

“Yes, and I’m not lying. I swear I can show you the receipt! And the minute I got your text I responded back, but I haven’t heard from you since.”

Of course Harry hasn’t heard from him, Louis blocked his fucking number. Because Louis’ a fucking jerk.

“Right, sorry. Yeah, I uh…I kinda,” Louis shuts his eyes and shoves the admission out, “I blocked you.”

Harry actually laughs, “You blocked me?”

“I thought you were ignoring me!”

"I didn't mean to," Harry rushes, his eyes wide with concern. "I never meant to make you feel like I don't want you around because that is farthest from the truth."

A smile crawls across Louis’ face. “We still have to talk, and Bridge’s performance is coming up.”

"I know, but I don't want to worry about that right now. I want to enjoy this night if you'd maybe…well if you'd like to stay with me?"

“I…I…”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t.”

The pain on Harry's face is too much to bear, "Why?"

“I made a vow tonight, Harry. I told myself that I wasn’t gonna get belligerently drunk, and that I wasn’t gonna waste this night worrying about anyone but myself.”

“Why can’t you just tell me you don’t want me? Why do you keep lying to me!”

“Harry it’s not like that, I fucking swear! I want you so bad, but-”

“Save it,” Harry snaps, “I don’t know why I gave you another chance.”

The bitterness of rejection coils in Louis' stomach and slithers its way into his heart.

But baby, don't leave me
Shut your mind off and let your heart hear me

Don’t leave me, he begs to the space where Harry’s body had filled before. Don’t leave me, he cries as the tears streak down his cheeks. Don’t leave me, he says and says and says. But Harry’s already gone.

Harry already left.

******************

“I just don’t understand, Louis,” Zayn whispers as he rubs Louis’ back. It’s Saturday morning, and Louis spent the rest of the night quietly sobbing to himself.

“Me neither, Z.”

“I think it’s a good thing, what you did. You both need to talk before anything else happens. And on top of that, you were both drunk last night. That wasn’t going to lead anywhere good no matter the circumstance. It’s best to make sure that you’re both on the same page with a sober mindset.”

“I know, Z.”

Attempting to mend a few of the millions of broken parts to Louis’ heart, Zayn offers, “You want me to make you pancakes?”

“No.”

“Want to watch ‘Grease?’”

“No.”

“Okay,” he submits. “I’ll leave you alone then. I’m gonna be in my room, call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

Slipping off the couch, Zayn strides only halfway towards his destination, when he turns around and says, "You know Louis, if nothing else, I'll always love you."

Like a band-aid to an open wound, the words alleviate some of the pain. However, not wanting to admit how much it genuinely means to him, Louis chooses to joke in reply, “Shut up.”

Thankfully, Zayn knows him well enough to know Louis doesn’t actually want him to be quiet. “I’m serious. You’re the brother I never had.”

Unfortunately, as Louis has said before, Zayn always defeats him. Breaking down Louis’ guard better than his own family even can. Guess it comes with the territory of being close friends for years.

Lifting his head a little higher off the couch so that he can be seen, Louis stares at Zayn, “Love you too, Z. Really.”

There's acknowledgment in Zayn's expression, a slight smile, and adoring eyes before he completes the retreat to his room. Once alone, Louis lies on the couch and wonders what his life would be like without Zayn. It lasts for two seconds till he's changing his thoughts again. That's something he doesn't honestly want to think about.

******************

"Fuck," Louis screams as his fingers fumble overplaying the notes on the keyboard. "Fuck! I fucking had it. What the fuck."

“Louis…” Liam says.

“What?!”

Niall and Liam share worried looks as Niall says what Liam seems to be holding back on, “Louis, you’re not okay.”

“I’m fine. It’s just these fucking keys. Or my fingers. I don’t know. It’s not working.”

It's their band practice on Sunday, and Louis is having a hard time keeping up. Every time he's tried to play the new song, he messes up. It's most likely because he hasn't had much sleep the past two nights, and his mood isn't helping whatsoever.

“You need a break.”

“No.”

“Yes, and call your mom or something. You clearly have something bothering you, and she always has a way to calm you down.”

The reminder of his mom, who he hasn’t spoken to nearly as much as he’d like, weighs heavily on him. “Fine. Practice is over. I guess I’ll just see you guys tomorrow.”

Liam and Niall escape quietly through his front door, while Louis sits on his bed and sighs. He is stressing out. Ignoring the fact that Louis' annoyed by how Niall and Liam said it, talking to his mom would be good. She always has the best advice for him, regardless of what he wants to talk to her about. That's why they're as close as they are. Because Louis feels like he can go to her for anything, and not only not be judged, but also be given genuine guidance.

He does miss her a lot while he's away at school - as well as his sisters. And he's excited about the upcoming breaks so that he can spend time with them all again. In the meantime, however, he has to work with what he can and currently, the distance is still a deterrent. Hesitantly unlocking his phone screen, using the best means of communication he has, Louis pulls up the number to call the house where he grew up. It rings three times when someone finally answers.

“Hello?”

It’s Louis’ eldest sister that picks up, "Lottie put mom on the phone."

"Wow, Louis. Nice to talk to you too. She's not home."

“It’s Sunday, where is she?”

"Some birthday party. Why what's up?"

“Nothing.”

"Hey," she snaps with a similar attitude as Louis, "Don't be like that! I'm not dumb, I know you're upset."

“How can you possibly make that conclusion?”

“Because I’m your sister and I know you better than you think.”

"Ugh,” Louis groans. “Well I mean, yeah I am. I'm going through something right now, Lots. That’s why I want to talk to mom."

“Talk to me,” she says, “Go on.”

Louis huffs, "This guy just…it's been a lot of back and forth with him, and I don't know what to do."

“Okay...why don’t you start from the beginning?”

So Louis does. Explaining every minuscule detail to her over the phone, as she quietly hums along to his story. By the end of it, Louis’ unsure of how she’s going to respond. Anytime he thinks he knows how she’s going to react, it’s always the opposite. And this time, he truly doesn’t have a clue as to what she’s thinking.

“You want my honest opinion, Lou?”

“That’s why I’m telling you this,” he snarkily says.

“You need to be more forward.”

“What do you mean?”

"Think about his perspective for a minute. You've been hot and cold with him since the beginning. First, you said you wanted to be friends, but really you hated him. Then you liked him, but you still rejected him again."

“I didn’t reject him.”

Lottie quickly refutes,“That’s not how he sees it. You said no, and when he walked off, you didn’t go running after him.”

"Didn't realize I was supposed to."

“Absolutely! If you want him, you’re going to have to be really blunt about it. And you’re going to have to do something that’ll really make him realize that you’re serious about it. He probably doesn’t know what to believe right now, and you’re not trying very hard to convince him otherwise.”

Despite being resistant to confiding in his sister, Louis has to admit that her advice is good. Great even. “Yeah, I guess you might be right. So, I should do something showy?”

“Well,” she thinks over, “Maybe not showy? But something that would be meaningful to him. Or important to him.”

“Okay. That makes sense.”

“I know.”

“You’re actually pretty good at this.”

“I know.”

Louis teases, “Not as good as mom though.”

“Oh shut up! Well, I did my good deed for the day. I’ll talk to you soon?”

“Yes, talk to you later. Bye!”

With the conversation ended, ideas immediately churn Louis' mind over. For the rest of the night, Louis comes up with ways to get the message across that he likes Harry, and that Louis wants to be with Harry. Oddly enough, Louis decides he needs another plan. He even has an idea, though it could end up being a total disaster.

For Harry though, anything’s worth a shot.

******************

Louis puts his plan into motion the following day at his band practice. Stalling his efforts to join in on the song, Louis turns to his friends nervously. It’s for Harry, he reminds himself. Opening his mouth, the words scorch as they strut out of his throat, “I want to perform Wonderwall instead of Mr. Brightside at Bridge’s.”

Liam’s stunned face freezes while Niall bursts out into laughter - loud, obnoxious, laughter. “You’re joking!”

Emitting nothing but genuine honesty, Louis says seriously, “No, I’m not. It’s for Harry. It was what he was singing the first time I saw him.”

“You want to sing a song for Harry,” Liam asks befuddled.

“Yeah, I think it might help.”

“You know we have three days to practice it?”

“I know, but I don’t care. I think we can do it.” They’re gathered in Louis’ living room, Niall and Liam exchanging looks before shifting themselves back to Louis, who’s stood in front of them.

“Well,” Niall says, “I’ve been saying that I’ve wanted to play this song the whole time anyway, so I’m fine with it.”  

“Me too, not about wanting to play it the entire time, but that I’m fine with it,” Liam adds.

“Great! Now that that’s over with, we should probably start practicing, I have some ideas for making it a little different. Or at least, more like us.”

Niall strolls off to get his guitar, while Liam hangs back a bit. “I’m proud of you, Louis.”

“For choosing this song?”

“No,” he grins, “For making the right decision.”

There’s only one second of hesitation before Louis replies, “Maybe it’s time you do the same for Zayn?”

A smirk erupts on Louis’ face, while Liam ponders his final point. Their moment doesn’t last, however, with Niall chugging his can of beer and grabbing his instrument to practice with. But it was enough. Liam takes his position after, and Louis does a few breathing exercises to steady his nerves.

Here goes nothing, he apprehensively thinks.

******************

“So my professor told me that my Fall project is amazing, and she wants to showcase it in one of her friend’s upcoming art galleries!” Zayn animatedly tells Louis the following day, as they walk across campus to the coffee shop before their classes.

“Z, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, you’ve been working so hard on it that these past few weeks.”

“I know. It’s still not done, but I have a few weeks to hand it in, and submit it to the show.”

“What did you do it on,” Louis asks, “Usually you’re storming into our apartment and shoving whatever you’re working on in my face to get my approval. So I’m surprised I haven’t seen it yet.”

Zayn clears his throat, “Uh, well that’s the thing. I actually did it about you.”

Louis stumbles, “Me?”

“Yeah,” Zayn continues to explain hesitantly. “So the assignment was to use color to express human emotions. I did mine based on what it’s like watching you play in front of an audience versus what it’s like when you play at home. It’s still you, but it’s two opposing sides of the same spectrum, that combine into this one element. There’s vibrancy when you play in front of an audience, but when you’re singing on the couch, there’s a certain kind of depth and vulnerability. It’s hard to explain, I don’t know. Did you want to see it?”

Smacking him on the arm, Louis practically yells, “Course, you fucker. You did a painting about me, of course I want to see it!”

“Alright,” Zayn chuckles, “Wanna stop now before we head off?”

“Sounds good to me.”

In all the mayhem that the past few weeks have brought on, Louis totally forgot that Zayn was working on something important, too. He feels horrible. He feels even worse knowing that the painting is of him, or at least, inspired by him. Louis’ been a shitty friend, and entirely self-centered. He doesn’t blame Zayn for having wanted to spend all his time in the studio.

As they're heading to the art building, Louis' emotions worsen. The thought of being ignorant towards Zayn's stress and struggles devastates him. When they enter the classroom, Louis grabs onto Zayn's wrist before he shows Louis what he's been working on.

“Zayn, I just...I have to say I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For being a shitty friend, and putting all my issues on you when you had your own set to worry about. I’ve been so caught up in my music, that I haven’t even asked you about your art. Seriously, what kind of awful person have I been these past couple weeks?”

Zayn nods as he smirks, “Pretty bad.”

Gasping, Louis apologizes again, “I’m sorry.”

“Louis...I was joking. You haven’t been great, that’s true, but I also haven’t brought it up. Like you said earlier, normally I’d be shoving it in your face, but this time I didn’t want to say anything until it was predominantly done. So please, stop worrying.”

“Okay.”

“Are you ready to see it?”

“Yes!”

Clutching a large canvas from inside the closet, Louis’ mouth drops at the sight. Zayn’s painting is...astounding, complex, magical, invigorating - and Louis’ honestly speechless as he stares at the piece that was inspired by him.

“This...this is me?”

“Pretty much.”

“It’s so incredible Zayn, I honestly can’t find words great enough to describe how absolutely amazing this is.”

“Oh shut up, you sap,” Zayn lightheartedly jokes.

"I'm serious," Louis counters. "You're phenomenally talented, I've always thought that so I mean, it's nothing new. But this, this is your best work. I can't express how this makes me feel, and not just because I inspired it. It's just...moving. A very moving piece. And I have to say," realigning his attention to Zayn instead of the artwork, Louis adds, "Thank you. Thank you for seeing me better than I'll ever see myself."

“Well you’re pretty incredible too Louis, you just have to believe that.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I really needed this.”

“I know you did. I had a feeling you were going to start overthinking and overanalyzing everything about the performance, and I thought maybe this would help keep you from that? Maybe even inspire you a little?”

"Well, it certainly did."

Zayn grins award-winningly, "Good, then it served its purpose."

There’s a second of stillness between them as they smile at one another, before Louis ruins it by pouncing on Zayn and attacking him with a hug. They may or may not end up on the floor in its failed attempt, but that’s neither here nor there. Because Louis has the best friends in the world, and he just wants to show them how much he cares. And even if it wasn’t successful, Zayn definitely got the point.   

******************

In just a few days Wonderwall is as good as it'll ever get, and the rest of the songs are flawless. Louis doesn’t doubt that they can play them all well, it's just a matter of being able to perform them all well, that’s the real testament.

Louis really fucking hopes so.

But with some good, there's always some bad. Due to the infinite number of band practices, to the point that Liam and Niall have started staying over, Louis' barely managing to fit time in for school. His stress levels have inclined, though Zayn's painting did help, there are still shreds of anxiety in every step he takes. Louis' doing what he can, avoiding any thoughts that could trigger her presence by focusing on what's important. Music and Harry for example.

Harry.

Thursday night, Louis decides that for his new plan to work, he also needs to send a text. He wants to make sure that Harry is there to witness what he hopes will be an epic performance, but also, to see the surprise Louis has in store for him. It won't be enough to heal what's been broken, but it'll be enough to evoke communication between them again. At least that's what Louis is praying for.

Sending the text and locking his phone screen, Louis releases the air inflated in his lungs. All there’s left to do is hope that Harry stays long enough to watch Louis play.  

Easy.

******************

The scent of stale beer and body odor consumes Louis when he walks alongside Niall and Liam, into Bridge's Friday night. There's a real chill in the air, and the rain coming down is threatening to turn into snow - Louis tries not to see it as foreshadowing. Changing his thoughts, Louis rubs his hands together to create warmth as he and his friends head further into the venue. Some people smile at their group as they pass, waving to show their enthusiasm in getting to watch them later. It's nice, but not enough to cure him of his panic.

As they reach the entrance to backstage, Bridgette waits on the side, smiling widely when she spots them coming through.“There you are! Louis, you haven’t come back to visit me in a while,” she pouts, “I might not let you play tonight because of it.”

Louis playful frowns in return, “I’m sorry Bridge, it’s just…it’s been a hell of a time these past couple weeks.”

“Why don’t you come sometime next week and we’ll talk about it over some tea?”

“You know what? That sounds perfect.”

“Good! Now, you boys get your stinky butts backstage to get ready. All the other acts are here, and I’m sending the first one out in ten minutes.”

Niall and Liam follow her directions as they make their way to the back area, while Louis lingers behind. “Bridge, do you uhm…do you know if they’re here?” Louis implies, wanting to know about the scout’s whereabouts without directly suggesting it.

“Honestly? I’m not telling you. You should play as if they’re not, and just worry about putting on a good show for your fans.”

“Okay.”

That’s better said than done, he thinks, as he takes to the back room . Especially when his biggest concern isn’t the talent scout watching him anymore, but Harry. His whole plan is riding on this.

"Louis," Niall shouts across the hall, motioning Louis over to him and Liam by the water cooler.

“Yeah?”

“Harry’s here. He saw us and nodded.”

Can both Louis’ heart and stomach drop at the same time? Because if so, they definitely just did.

“Fuck.”

Liam’s brows furrow, “I thought you wanted him here?”

“I did. I do. It’s just, I’m fucking nervous that I’m gonna fuck this up again.”

“Hey, no you’re not,” Liam soothes. “Don’t even think about him as you play, just think about the music. Think about why we’re here. Think about everything else, but him.”

“Okay,” Louis agrees, though once again - easier said than done.

******************

They stay in the back until Bridgette calls Harry's name, and Louis can't keep himself from watching his set. The boy practically makes love to his guitar while he’s on stage, as his voice blankets over everyone in its sweet, decadent warmth. It's actually helpful watching Harry do so well, because now Louis knows without a doubt that Harry will be getting the call from the scout.

And with that knowledge, Louis only feels pride. Instead of it potentially deterring him from performing, Louis strangely feels relaxed enough to play. There's no competition anymore. Truthfully, there never even was. Harry's leagues above him as an artist and all Louis wants to do now is go out with a bang. Not for the scout, but for himself, and for his band. And for Harry.

He wants to do his best for Harry.

Running back from the sidelines where he was watching the show, Louis races over to where his friends are relaxing. “Ni! Li!”

“Yeah,” they say together.

Eagerly, Louis screams, “Let’s fuck this stage up!”

Their faces reveal shock at Louis’ sudden attitude change, but neither complains as they throw their hands in the center, and cheer altogether.

“Rogue! Rogue! Rogue! Rogue!”

“Alright boys,” Bridgette says from over their shoulders, “You’re on!”

Louis nods at Bridgette before saying one last thing to his friends. "No matter how tonight turns out, no matter what happens on that stage, it's gonna be okay. Because we're still gonna be The Rogue, and we're still gonna play until we can't anymore. So let’s go out there, and put the best fucking show on that we can!"

“Yeah!” Niall exclaims.

“Let’s do this,” Liam cheers.

Biting eagerly into his lips, Louis couldn’t agree more. Let’s fucking do this.

******************

The stage is warm, light attaching itself onto Louis as he comes out from the back, like tiny fireflies taking refuge on his skin. As he walks forward, he adjusts the mic that's positioned too high for his body, but otherwise, everything else feels good. The crowd in front of them is cheering before they've even said hello, standing closer to the stage in anticipation. And the way Louis' fingers tingle with yearning to play, puts Louis in his zone.

“Hello! Before we start our set, we just want to say a massive thank you to all those that came out tonight! It always means so much to us to have your support. And for those of you that haven’t met us yet, we’re The Rogue!”

The audience applauds wildly for them, and Louis can’t hide the smirk that plays up his lips at the satisfaction of it.

It doesn’t settle for long with Liam banging on his drums, causing Louis to rush back to the mic and say, “Our first song of the night is, No Control!”

They drift into the music, Louis singing with everything his vocal chords can muster, as he drinks in this moment. He feels delirious. Wasted off the energy the crowd is returning back to him, as most of them sing along with the lyrics. Charging through his song, Louis comes into the chorus with every ounce of power he’s utterly drenched in.

Waking up
Beside you I’m my loaded gun
I can't contain this anymore
I'm all yours I've got no control
No control
Powerless
And I don't care it's obvious
I just can't get enough of you
The pedal's down, my eyes are closed
No control

Two more minutes and the song comes to a close. The final note falling from his mouth right as Louis catches a pair of startling green eyes. Harry stayed - and he's watching. The applause that comes at the end of the song pulls Louis from the eye contact and reminds him of where he is. This is exactly what he wanted. This is his chance to fix everything.

"Thank you! Our next song is a classic that hopefully all of you know. I'll admit that I'm not the biggest fan of this song, but there's a reason that we're playing it for all of you here tonight. You see, not too long ago, I saw someone sing this song in a way that was completely... spellbinding?"

Harry’s eyes are glued to Louis, gazing at him with something akin to awe. Louis doesn’t stop once he has his devoted attention. He continues his speech, all the while keeping his own ocean irises latched onto Harry as he does.

"And I hated that I loved it so much. That they brought life back into this song in a way I'd never heard before. And it's not just that person's talent, but it's them and who they are that makes this song mean so much to me. And I wanted them to know that. To know that I've always felt something for them no matter how much I tried to deny it, and that I'm not afraid of it anymore. I'm not afraid of how I feel. They're my wonderwall."

Emerald eyes flood and Louis doesn’t have the chance to emotionally react because suddenly guitar strings are playing in the background. Louis internally thanks Niall for lining that up so well. After the first few notes, Louis comes in with his vocals, a stark rasp against the soft melody the instrument provides.

And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I
Would like to say to you but I don't know how

Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all, you're my wonderwall

Louis had been so submerged in the song that when he peeks out into the crowd, he realizes Harry's gone. It pains him, but he doesn't leave. He stands there singing, urging every emotion he can to find it's way into the lyrics and sail to Harry's ears. Sailing until it reaches his heart. With determination, Louis keeps singing, hoping to make the other boy come back around.

And after all, you're my wonderwall

The noise that combusts at the end is mind-blowing. There are screams, whistles, and applause absorbing every inch of the venue. Louis laughs into the mic, "Thank you! You don't know how incredible it feels to hear that. Now, the last song we're going to do this evening before the gig is over is another original. It's inspired by the person I was just talking about, and I hope you all enjoy it. This is, Back to You."

For this song, Louis engages the crowd. He doesn’t want to just stand there and sing, he wants to jump, and dance, and throw his hands in the air, and he wants the crowd to do it all right there with him. He wants them to be involved in the rhythm, just as much as he is.

So when he sings, he gets them to raise their arms with him, he gets them to move their hips with him, he gets them to dance right there, with him. Not faltering one bit as he soars through the music.

I know you say you know me, know me well
But these days I don't even know myself, no
I always thought I'd be with someone else
I thought I would own the way I felt, yeah

I call you but you never even answer
I tell myself I'm done with wicked games
But then I get so numb with all the laughter
That I forget about the pain

Whoah, you stress me out, you kill me
You drag me down, you fuck me up
We're on the ground, we're screaming
I don't know how to make it stop
I love it, I hate it, and I can't take it
But I keep on coming back to you

Chaos is the only way to describe Louis' state at the immediate positive reaction he's receiving. People love Back to You, and that's all the recognition he needs to continue the song with every thriving morsel within him. He glances back at Niall who's lost in his guitar, and to Liam who's pounding insanely into the drums. This is the best moment of their band thus far, and Louis' not going to let anything affect it now. He's going to live every insatiable second time has to offer, until there's nothing left to sing. Until the drums have stopped, the guitar has faded, and only Louis' voice echoes in the room.

I know my friends they give me bad advice
Like move on, get you out my mind
But don't you think I haven't even tried
You got me cornered and my hands are tied

You got me so addicted to the drama
I tell myself I'm done with wicked games
But then I get so numb with all the laughter
That I forget about the pain

Whoah, you stress me out, you kill me
You drag me down, you fuck me up
We're on the ground, we're screaming
I don't know how to make it stop
I love it, I hate it, and I can't take it
But I keep on coming back to you (back to you)
Oh, no, no, I just keep on coming back to you (back to you)
Oh, no, no, I just keep on coming back to you

And I guess you'll never know
All the bullshit that you put me through
And I guess you'll never know, no

Yeah, so you can cut me up and kiss me harder
You can be the pill to ease the pain
'Cause I know I'm addicted to your drama
Baby, here we go again

In the center of the room, where people are close and blending together, is where Louis finds Harry again, standing out. His lips are parted, his eyes nervous, but despite the fear he seems to express, he comes closer. Louis listens as Niall and Liam drift into an impromptu solo, as he gets swept up in Harry taking step after step, towards the stage. Suddenly, Louis’ remembering that he has a song to sing, and brings the mic up to his lips, practically serenading Harry when he does.

Whoah, you stress me out, you kill me
You drag me down, you fuck me up
We're on the ground, we're screaming
I don't know how to make it stop
I love it, I hate it, and I can't take it
But I keep on coming back to you (back to you)
Oh, no, no, I just keep on coming back to you (back to you)
Oh, no, no, I just keep on coming back to you

Harry’s there, in front of him, soaking in every word. Louis steps down from the stage with the mic in his hands, stationed in front of Harry on the floor. People have stepped aside, wanting to witness whatever is about to happen. Louis’ not even sure what he’s doing, just letting the music move him towards Harry. Towards what feels right.

It's like everything that happened was purposefully constructed to lead them to this moment. In the middle of the crowd, Harry stands on the verge of something beautiful, Louis stands on the verge of something big. The song is almost done,  Louis has one final line, and as it evolves, Louis sings every emotion he's ever carried, into the last lyrics of his song. Hoping it conveys everything to Harry, he ever wanted it to.

But I keep on coming back to you

Dropping the mic from his dry lips, Harry lunges into Louis’ arms, rushing forward until his hands are on Louis’ face and his mouth is on Louis’ skin. Louis is pushed back by the force of Harry colliding into him, crashing them together until they’re perfectly aligned.

“Wait, Harry,” Louis parts, “I want to try again. Do it right this time, please.”

Harry moves his head back a little to peer deep into Louis’ eyes, “Yes. We still need to talk, but yes. A thousand times yes.”

Their bodies reattach, mouths following suit until they're connected once again. It's the kiss Louis' always wanted with Harry - stitched with doubtless passion and aching desire. Louis' so transfixed by the return of Harry's taste hot on his tongue, that he's unaware of the progressing applause that bellows around them until it's too loud not to notice. Reluctantly, they pull apart again, giving Louis the chance to address the craziness of what's occurring.

The world once again reflects Louis' heart - loving, compassionate, and in utter pandemonium.

The crowd roars around him, louder than he's ever heard, prompting Niall and Liam to jump off the stage and reel Louis in a hug. Tight squeezes tangled with happiness encase him, until the three break the embrace to bow, and return backstage. Harry waves at Louis from his place on the floor, giving one another a knowing look that they'll meet up afterward.

"Thank you, everyone," Louis for a final time, says into the mc. "We've been The Rogue!"

Running in the hallway backstage, the cool air chilling the sweat on him, Louis tumbles into Bridgette who’s waiting with open arms. “Louis, that was amazing!”

"Bridgette, thank you so much. It’s because of you that we were even able to perform here tonight!"

“Honey,” she says as she pats his back, “You deserve it. Oh, and someone’s waiting for you in one of the rooms. You should go to them, but come find me after, okay?”

“Okay.”

Niall and Liam grab Louis into a hug again, until they spot Zayn cheering for them to come over.   Louis takes this as his chance to go in search of the person supposedly waiting for him. He has a feeling it’s Harry. Or at least he’s hoping. Genuinely hoping. Turning a corner, however, Louis comes to a woman with long auburn hair that smiles at his appearance.

“Mr. Tomlinson?”

“Uh, Louis’ fine.”

She grins charmingly, "Louis. My name is Liana Curtis, and I'm a representative from Columbia Records. Do you have a minute?"

Wait…what?

“Uh, yeah,” he steps closer towards her, curiosity creating his timid movements.

Flicking her shoulder length hair behind her ear, she answers unaware of anything different. “Great! I don’t know if Bridgette informed you as to who I am, but I’m a talent scout, seeking potential in young artists.”

"She mentioned a talent scout coming, yeah." Louis laughs internally because this whole time he thought it was going to be some older male. It's actually relieving that it's not only someone younger, but more welcoming.

“Bridgette’s a family friend of sorts. I had contacted her over the Summer, asking if she knew of any young talent that I should come check out. Let’s just say she didn’t disappoint. Louis, I’d like to give you my card. You and your bandmates should take some time and think it over, but I’d like to start the process with all three of you, as soon as you’re ready.”

“Process? What process?”

“Getting you a record deal,” she states as if it were obvious. “We’d have to get The Rogue in a studio first to make a demo, then set up some meetings while we run some social media tests – but I think you guys could be the next big thing.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She laughs at the outburst, "I'm not lying." Reaching into her back pocket, she pulls out the fanciest, glossiest business card Louis' ever seen, and hands it over to him. In thick black ink on top of a white background, Louis reads:

Liana Curtis

Columbia Records Talent Scout

“Holy shit. I…thank you so much for this! Seriously, this is insane.”

“You’re welcome. I have to go but…I hope to hear from you boys very soon.”

“Yes, definitely. Bye!”

It’s a few seconds after Liana has left that Louis finally processes what’s just happened. Darting out of the room, Louis paces around backstage until he finds everyone huddled together by the stage. Even Harry is pieced together with Liam, Niall, and Zayn - making Louis beam at the picture. It almost makes him forget why he was on a mission to find them. Almost.

“Oh my god, guys!”

All their heads turn to Louis who’s screaming, waving the business card in the air. “I just spoke to the talent scout! I just spoke to the fucking talent scout!”

“No fucking way,” Niall says with his mouth wide open.

Liam runs up to hold the card physically in his hands, “Holy shit Louis, what’d he say?”

“ She said she loved us and wants to represent us. Even wants to have us come in to record a demo and some other stuff, but oh my god, I can't believe this!"

“I’m so happy for you, Lou,” Harry says, which startles Louis out of his celebration considering what it means that he got the contact.

That Harry didn’t.

“Harry, I’m…”

“Nope! Don’t say you’re sorry because I don’t want you to be. You deserve this, you should be proud.”

“You know, Harry,” Zayn comments from the side, “I think I like you more than Louis.”

“Hey,” Louis retaliates as Harry giggles adorably.

Zayn shrugs, “Just calling it like it is.”

Shaking his head, Louis flips off Zayn, until he decides there’s no point holding off the inevitable. “Guys? I need a minute to talk with Harry alone, so I’ll meet you back up, okay?”

They all nod as Harry and Louis walk off, an awkward tension building between them as they head for somewhere private. Arriving at the alleyway behind Bridge's, Louis halts his walking any further, with Harry stopping beside him.

“So,” Louis says just to say something.

"So," Harry repeats, biting his bottom lip. "Well, congratulations again Lou."

“Thank you, I still can’t believe it happened.”

"Yeah, it's crazy. But it seemed like the talent scout was really nice when I talked to her, erm I mean..." Harry's eyes widen when he realizes what he's just admitted.

“You talked to the scout?”

“Well, she had actually come up to me after my set, but I told her that if she wanted real talent, she needed to stay and watch the final act.”

Louis’ draw drops, “You...you said that?”

Shyly nodding, Harry answers, “Well, it’s true. You guys put on a stellar performance tonight, she would have talked to you regardless if I said something or not.”

“Not true. You realize that you basically turned down your chance, so that I could have mine?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, I guess. I’m not ready for all that yet, and I don’t know that I even want a career in music. If in a year I’m still in love with the idea of performing, then I can always try then,” Harry shrugs nonchalantly.

Despite Harry's appearance of indifference, Louis feels anything but. What Harry did for him, for The Rogue, it's life-changing. And Louis' heart is gnawing at him to finally confess the last truth he's kept from Harry all this time. "It is a big deal, Harry, and I think you know that. What you did for us, for me… I can never repay you for that. But I'd like to try. You know, I pulled you aside because I have one last thing to confess to you. And maybe it's obvious what I'm about to say since I sort of did on stage, but since I haven't said it to you specifically, it doesn't count to me."

Louis swallows as he lets his inhibitions go, "I want you, Harry. I want all of you. I want to kiss you whenever I can, and hold you whenever I want. And I...I don't want there to be any more confusion about that. About the way I feel for you. It's okay if you don't want to be with me like that, I'll respect your decision. But on the off chance that you do want to be with me, and give whatever this craziness is another try - then I want you to know that I'm going to treat you the way you deserve. And I promise always to be honest, even if it's the hardest thing to do, I will always tell you the truth."

“Louis, I…” Harry visibly gulps, “I want you, too. And I’m willing to try this again. I know I’ve made mistakes on my part, and I promise to be better at communicating how I feel, too.”

Lifting his icy fingers up to the warmth of Harry’s cheeks, Louis rubs his thumb against Harry, “You know, I was too afraid to say it before, but fuck Harry I might explode if I don’t say it now. You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. And I plan on reminding you of that every single day that I can.”

Tears swell in Harry’s mossy eyes, as a few fall free, “You’re ridiculous,” he softly laughs.

“Ridiculous about you,” Louis teases.

“Oh god, how cheesy!”

“Not as cheesy as us kissing in front of a crowd earlier.”

“Yeah,” Harry’s cheeks flush, “That was pretty incredible.”

Louis questions, “Think that counts as our movie moment?”

The grin that radiates from Harry's lips is impeccable, "Yeah, I think it does."

“Well, you know what that means.”

“What?"

Leaning closer, Louis intertwines his fingers with Harry's ring-clad hand, "It means that we're gonna ride off into the sunset and have our happily ever after."

“But this isn’t the end of the movie?”

“You’re right,” Louis chuckles, “I guess this is the part where I ask you out on a date then?”

Inching into his space, Harry burns within Louis’ vicinity, “That depends, are you asking me or telling?”

"Asking," Louis confirms, as he says in another breath. "Harry Styles, will you go on a date with me?"

Dimming every light and star and moon with just the glimmer of his viridian eyes, Harry adorably replies, “You didn’t even have to ask.”

Maybe it is a bit cheesy when Louis tugs Harry into another kiss, gently molding himself into the shape of Harry’s pout. But Louis doesn’t care. He may have a lot of regrets, a lot of recent ones even - but he will never regret causing the most gorgeous person he’s ever known, to have a smile on their wondrous face. And if this really is their movie moment, then Louis wants it to end here. With Louis tangled up in Harry, Harry tangled up in Louis, and nothing in the world to stop them except themselves. It just them, here, and in love.

Well...they haven’t figured out the last part yet. But they will - they always do.

Chapter Text

10 Years Later

“Louis! Louis over here,” another pap screams as he exits the back of the sleek black limo. Another award show, another grammy nomination. Louis still can’t believe that this has become his normal. This past decade has been a rollercoaster of a ride, but Louis wouldn’t trade it for anything.

He's achieved every aspiration he had for himself and more.

It’s all thanks to the start. After The Rogue contacted Liana, they recorded the demo she requested, and that was it. They were successful over night when their first single was released, and they haven’t come down from the high since. It’s been tour after tour, album after album, but Louis loves it more than he could ever put into words. It’s what he lives for.

Well...that and something else.

Reaching his fingers back into the darkness of the car, another larger hand decorated with pink nail polish grasps onto him firmly. Using the support, Louis' spouse slips out of the back seat, gracefully appearing beside Louis like he always does at these events.  Always the showstopper , Louis thinks when he sees the way the crowd ignites at the sight of them together.

“Harry! Louis!”

While Louis is dressed simply in a grey suit, Harry stands beside him as regally as ever. Wearing a floral pattern suit custom designed by Gucci, and black leather shoes pulling the whole attire together. Louis swoons, but it’s other little pieces to Harry’s look that make Louis fond so much. Like the nails that match the flowers of Harry’s outfit, that Louis carefully painted last night, and the silver band around Harry’s left ring finger, that Louis carefully placed last year.

Yes, Harry is truly what he lives for.

Beaming with adoration, Louis grins as Harry reaches for Louis’ hand, just as they are guided to their first reporter of the night. The younger girl smiles while the two step over, their curiosity evident as they wonder what questions she has in store for them.

“Hello,” the girl begins, talking into the camera as she makes her introductions. “For those viewers at home who have been living under a rock, I’m standing with music’s most powerful couple - Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles. Well, Harry Tomlinson-Styles, I should say.”

“Yes,” Harry grins admiringly, “Tomlinson-Styles.”

Louis can’t help the pride that fills throughout at the sound of the name, as he thinks back onto everything that lead them to this. How despite Louis running off to Chicago, and soon Los Angeles to record music with The Rogue, he never once missed Harry’s call. That out of everything that was changing around them, their relationship remained a constant, strong and unyielding against the world.

And when Harry could, he travelled alongside the band. Hanging out back with Zayn while Niall, Liam, and Louis wrecked the stage. The five of them had become inseparable over the first year of touring, a pleasant surprise Louis never took for granted.

And after the first tour, after Harry graduated, after The Rogue’s second album went platinum in the US, did Harry get his own chance. Without Louis’ help, no less. He’s been building up his own career ever since, doing his own tours, and selling his own albums just as well as The Rogue.

Louis couldn’t be more proud if he tried.

Now and then though, they take a break. They'll head back home to Indiana to see their families, who are just as close as the two of them are. Once in awhile, they'll even return to Indiana University, paying respect to the place that brought the two of them together. And whenever they have a chance, they'll visit the real reason that started it at all. Bridge's Bookstore. Last year during the holidays, the two had been visiting Bridgette, who runs the place with her own daughter now, when Louis finally turned to Harry and did something he felt was long overdue.

He proposed.

The wedding happened in the spring, and it was small, but it was them - surrounded by everyone they love. Lottie made a toast, teasing about the first time she talked about Harry with Louis, and Harry made vows that brought Louis nearly to his knees in tears. Niall was there with his girlfriend, Liam was there with his fiance - Zayn, and the whole event was simply amazing.

But out of all of that, the wedding wasn’t perfect because of who was there. It was perfect because Louis got to marry Harry. The love of his life, who was dressed in a white suit, pastel pink undershirt, and pastel pink handkerchief to match. And as he stood across the altar from Louis, Harry was no one but himself and in love - the way Louis only ever wants Harry to be. It was everything Louis could have asked for.

In the past months since then, the couple has spent every minute of it drunk on each other. The only thing that could make Louis happier than he already is at this exact moment, is bringing a child into their lives. He hasn’t mentioned it to Harry yet, but he’s going to. And he knows, he knows Harry will say yes. Because no matter what’s changed, no matter what’s fallen apart, or been lost, or altered - their love hasn’t. Only growing more each and every day.

That’s why Louis knows Harry will say yes, because they both have so much love to give.

“So Louis,” the interviewer says, tearing Louis back from his thoughts. “This is the first year that both you and Harry are nominated for the same grammy award. How does it feel to have your husband as your competition?"

Harry squeezes Louis’ hand, a sign that he remembers that long ago, they’ve been each other’s competition before. Louis squeezes back, letting Harry know that he’s thinking it too. That he’s thinking about the first time he ever saw Harry sing, and the first time he ever fell in love. And there’s only one thing, one feeling, one word, that could sum it all up for him.

“Well,” Louis says with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a smirk drenched on his lips, “Harry’s my wonderwall, and that’s all I have to say about that.”