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Louis raised his glass and it gleamed in the moonlight.
“Cheers, lads.”
The words were repeated back to him as they clinked their glasses together before collectively taking a sip.
“I’m not supposed to drink tonight,” Harry commented after his sip, “I have things to do tomorrow.”
“Don’t we all?” Zayn chuckled, “You certainly don’t need to have five of those.”
He moved his glass back and forth, gesturing towards Harry’s one. Harry laughed a little and nodded.
Sure, Louis also had places to be tomorrow, but he was sure that he could celebrate now and still get up in time tomorrow. If he turned out to stay later than planned, Louis was sure that he could solve the situation anyway.
“I can’t believe it has been this many years since we started,” Niall said, his gaze a little longing as if he could envision that very first day as he spoke.
Louis remembered that day like a song he had practised and sung a million times, like the fucking back of his hand; it felt so surreal now, that that day would be the moment his life would turn upside down in the craziest, greatest way possible. If he hadn’t done that audition, maybe he would have had a proper university degree, would have made a career that had absolutely nothing to do with music, and probably wouldn’t have been as famous as he was right now.
Unless he would have made it anyway.
Harry sometimes talked about it like that, as if the five of them were meant to be at that place at that very time, as if it was fate. Louis didn’t know how much he believed in fate, but he guessed that if you simply tried hard enough, you’d get where you wanted anyway, no matter how much of the road was already laid out before you.
One thing he was sure couldn’t be worked towards, it just simply needed to happen, was everything he and Harry had created together. Fucking hell, there was no way that Louis ever could have predicted everything they had done, everything they had gone through.
As he looked at the lad standing next to him, laughing at something Liam had said, he saw, for a split second, the boy he had been when they had first met; unruly curls, a big smile, and big green eyes. He saw his unsure stance, his nervous lip biting, and the way he had looked at his feet to hide his emotions when the five of them had thought their time on TV was over, moments before what had been the start of what was about to come.
Louis had only been eighteen then; a lot to him at that time but very little to him now.
He smiled a little sadly as he remembered the parts of their journey that he didn’t particularly like as much; a management that forced everybody into one package each, rules that made it impossible for them to live out their youth in ways everybody should have the right to do.
Nobody had been themselves, no; no matter how many interviews they had done or how many songs they had sung, never had they not put on a show. Of course, there had been moments when Louis just couldn’t help but reach out towards Harry, or anybody else in the group for that matter, when he couldn’t help but sit a little too close to somebody just because that package he had been put into wasn’t that fun. It worked for the audience, sure, but not for the one in said package.
He had to admit, no matter how selfish it might sound, that he liked having his share of secrets now; he liked having something for himself for once, something that he had created on his own. No matter the headlines this little thing would make, no matter how much publicity he would gain, or lose, by making this public, he liked only knowing the truth himself.
Well, of course, his family knew and the rest of the guys knew, especially Harry, but he still felt as if he was guarding a treasure; something the world would love to know but that he wouldn’t just hand them if they asked; it was his treasure, after all.
He moved his gaze to Harry and the man noticed, meeting Louis’ eyes with practised ease.
“I can’t believe we’re where we are now,” he said to everybody, yet he didn’t tear his gaze off Harry.
Harry smiled.
“Me neither,” he said, immediately understanding what Louis had meant.
Louis loved that about him; how, by simply looking into Louis’ eyes, it was as if he could read his mind. Eat your heart out, telepathy.
“I’m so happy that I have all of you,” Zayn said, and finally Louis moved his gaze from Harry.
“I’m really happy that I have you too,” Liam said, “everybody and Zayn, of course.”
Zayn gave him a smile that Louis had seen endless times, though only when given to Liam.
God, they had been through so much.
Who knew what lay ahead?
As Louis took another sip from his glass, he felt like, despite everything the band had achieved and everything he and everybody else had achieved on their own, this was most likely only the beginning. He hoped that, in the future, fourteen more years from now, they would be with each other again; imagine all the things they could achieve in that many more years.
Now, though, he praised the presence; for it was only in the presence when he was standing here with four of the people he cared so much about, the people he shared so much history with.
Louis was sure that this was what freedom tasted like; moon-dipped, night-coloured pure freedom.
He loved it.