Chapter 1: December 1st: Saving a Dying Light
Chapter Text
Fixed stars (Latin: stellae fixae)
~ archaic expression for the background stars in general
~ as used today, the term refers to distant stellar points with no detectable proper motion
It was concerningly late when Louis exited the elevator on the deserted lower floor, sighing at the red blinking light at the end of the large hall that warned him of the current filming process taking place only about twenty meters away. The steps of his dress shoes echoed on the ashy stone floor as he crossed the small distance, trying to slow down a few steps away from the entrance to gather himself.
Then, without giving himself another second to waste, Louis overcame the last barrier between the sacred quiet of his surroundings and the place where he was expected to be.
Outside, dark clouds covered the nearly black evening sky as he opened the heavy iron door that led towards the studio.
The sudden switch from being enveloped in utter silence to the untamable chaos that was unfolding under artificial neon lights never stopped making Louis’ ears ring and his eyes burn in the worst way.
Despite having spent enough time in the area, Louis was still instantly overwhelmed by the mass of people he was greeted with, hit by the noise without any warning. His perfectly neutral facade still stayed in place while he made his way towards the blinding stage light section, trying not to stumble over tripods, softboxes, and props. Not that his arrival would have been actually noticed at all. Therefore, the massive space was already overpowered by the loud discussions that were taking place right next to the filming area.
While still gaining an overview of the situation, Louis couldn’t help but glance towards the group currently arguing, instantly recognizing that they were not part of the crew. Furthermore, as he couldn’t ignore their exclaims, he could instantly rule out that any of his colleagues would ever dare to talk about a client in the way one of the concerning people just did.
It was a woman, middle-aged, dressed in an orange blazer that, color-wise, came pretty close to the angry red taint of her face.
“For goodness’ sake,” she snarled at someone else standing close to her, visibly unbothered that the whole hall was able to hear her. “At this point I no longer care if he’s ‘nervous.’ We’ve made ourselves more than clear about the terms of tonight’s shooting. So he doesn’t get the luxury to be difficult tonight. Is that understood?”
In any other situation, Louis would have headed straight back to his office, the short insight in the current filming process enough to make him want to get as far away as humanly possible.
Unfortunately, though, Louis was forced to find a specific face in the increasingly riled-up crowd, whose noise of complaint was only growing more irritating by the second. Whoever they were talking about, Louis hoped, would be far enough away to not hear any of the derogatory comments that were echoing through the space.
Given the ongoing commotion everywhere around Louis, it seemed nearly impossible to make out the person he was looking for. Yet, before he could get any closer to the arguing group, Louis was grabbed by the arm and pulled to the side in one swift motion, leaving him nothing more than a blink to fall into pace as he was dragged through the set. Thankfully, he didn’t have to check who it was.
“Louis, thank god,” he was greeted by his very stressed-out friend, who guided them past the filming team with practiced ease. “Let’s talk over here. I’m so fucking relieved you were still in the building.”
From the experiences of the past few months, Louis had developed a tendency to spend longer and longer periods in the office each day. Which was nothing but hell most of the time. Still, given the current situation, Louis accepted the call out to god, as he followed without resistance.
“You look like you're seconds away from quitting your job, Nialler,” he observed, stepping right beside Niall as soon as he understood where they were heading, pushing past the people in their way.
At Louis' teasing, his best friend simply growled, urging him towards the directory room, which, with a rather intense slam of the door, separated them from the crowded studio. The noise died down, and Niall was breaking his former silence in an instant.
“I’d rather suspect that my heart is seconds away from quitting its job," Niall declared, ruffling his already messy blonde hair, which was his typical telltale sign of a bad day.
“Sounds like things are really shit then,” Louis observed the obvious. To which the glare that he got in response seemed like the default expression. A very bad day then. “Okay, Horan. Get it off your chest and tell me how I can help you save the remains of your will to live,” Louis ordered instead of poking any further, trying to slip into the professional mindset that was clearly needed in the moment.
His determination seemed enough to help Niall gain back a grip on himself as he nodded.
“Thanks, Tommo. And sorry for ruining your free evening, especially after your meetings all day.”
Given that Louis had spent the past eleven hours in contract discussions, the message that Niall had sent him had not come at the very best time. Yet, spending a few more hours with Niall at work still appeared like more fun than spending another night lost in documents at his desk or alone in his flat.
“It’s alright, okay? Negotiations went well, all further contracts are finalized. I'm confident we'll complete the last bits by the end of the week. So I have more than enough capacity for a few of your problems,” Louis informed his friend, watching how the information settled in Niall's brain, his grim expression only slightly softening.
“At least one part of this shit is working out, then. That is actually the most comfort I have gotten today,” Niall stated, straightening up and fixing himself in a clear attempt to calm himself down. Given the condition of his current hairstyle, the effort did little to make him look more presentable, but Louis refrained from pointing that out.
“As you are aware, we had the first shootings with our candidates today. And let me tell you,” Niall tapped away on the screen of his tablet, “that it is making me question if all of my colleagues in recruitment have lost their damned minds at once. Cause quite honestly? I have no idea how they expect us to get any good shots with the cast material they provided us.”
It wasn’t the first time situations like these had happened. Not with their jobs. Yet, Louis was slightly surprised.
“Weren’t you getting the scenes with the lover boys in today? Thought they are media trained?”
Despite having been only involved in the legal aspects of the current TV production, Louis was fairly certain that Niall had mentioned something about the male candidates just a few days prior.
Niall’s short nod confirmed his assumption.
“First one was simply an arrogant prick. Bradon Coleman. Next level narcissistic social media guy with more ego than brain. Got me rolling my eyes, but was efficient at least,” Niall summarized, voice tense. “We finished his shoot quite early after we stopped trying to make him look likeable and just accepted our fate. Thanks to him, it was a rather unpleasant start. But the second one…” Niall shook his head in silent frustration. “That’s an unexpected catastrophe, believe me.”
From the mass of people still occupying the area outside, Louis could physically feel the pressure that was being exerted on the production. As far as he knew, the filming should have been done hours ago.
“A narcissistic prick as well?” Louis inquired, having not yet seen the other candidate nor gotten any information about his persona so far.
“I wish it were as simple as that,” Niall muttered. “But he is not an unpleasant person, per se. I’d actually think he can be quite nice once warmed up. Yet, the problem is that he didn’t warm up in the slightest. It’s like he would rather die than be in front of any cameras at all.”
Niall appeared like he couldn’t decide between resignation and concern. “He came with his whole management for support. But at this point, I can no longer tell if he fucked up every take because he is a complete train wreck, or if it is thanks to his own team constantly commenting on every breath he takes that makes him blank out. You probably heard them badmouth him as soon as you came in. Either way, he screwed up every single shot. And that’s not an overstatement. We were supposed to end his scenes about two lifetimes ago.”
Louis couldn’t help his irritation from showing. As far as he was aware, this year’s production team had chosen two public figures as their leads for the planned show. A sport influencer and a singer, both with extensive experience in the scene, and a rather large set of requirements for the contracts that Louis had worked on in the past months. Hearing Niall’s descriptions didn’t make much sense. How things had gone that badly, Louis couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, there was another thing he knew for sure. The reason why Niall had asked him to come.
“You still want to continue, don’t you?” he checked, seeing the last hint of determination that was almost concealed by anger and depletion.
“We’ve got everything set, all details about lighting and background perfected, there is a deadline coming up, our bosses will want a report about the current status, and—” Niall started to ramble, clearly focused on convincing Louis to support the idea. Which Niall, after countless times of working together, should have known was not even necessary.
“Fuck’s sake, Horan. I already agreed to help you. I don’t need an extensive alphabetical list with reasons why I should disregard all of our firm's policies. But it’s a mess out there right now, Niall. Based on what you’ve told me so far, I doubt it would be useful to have so many people watch the shooting. We need to get a grip. Need to get everyone out that isn’t absolutely required.”
At his observation, Niall nodded in agreement, relief written over his face.
“Should we leave it to just the two of us or do you need Liam for the cameras?” Louis checked, not even questioning if they could fulfill Niall’s idea. In combination, the two of them had managed worse within their careers.
“I think we can give Li a break. The setting is relatively stable, and we only need the portrait shots,” Niall decided after a few seconds of contemplation, staring at Louis in a way that could only be described as exhausted thankfulness. „No matter how, we need to get the management out,“ he added, which made Louis sigh as the implication of the troubles awaiting them settled in.
“As soon as this is over, I want at least one drink as compensation for getting you out of yet another mess, Horan,” he grumbled as he reached for the door handle, already full-mindedly mapping out a good excuse for sending everyone home despite the unfinished task. From his experiences, getting clients to stay back alone was never an easy task. And based on what he had witnessed already, the management they were working with now probably wouldn’t be any more cooperative.
“It’s a deal, Tommo. I’ll even send you a postcard from France,” Niall promised, receiving a snort in reply.
“I’ll keep you to it. But for now, I’d prefer the drink. At least if we actually get these people to leave.”
At the thought of the impending confrontation alone, Louis could have needed about five drinks in quick succession. Instead, though, he went through his options on how to proceed. “Is your evil shadow here as well?” he inquired, already forming his plan.
“Course not. Peter is currently upstairs doing whatever work there is while leaving me with the chaos downstairs,” Niall explained, clearly annoyed. Nothing new there. Because, while Niall was one of the best people working in production, his colleague was nothing but a pain in Louis’ and everyone else’s ass on a daily basis. For this purpose, though, he would do.
“Everything you guys recorded ‘til now should be in our cloud already, right? If not, send it in. Management would certainly enjoy watching the past hours of this shit show on tape. And your amazing colleague wouldn’t mind going over it with them, right?”
The grin on Niall’s face was answer enough.
“I’ll give him a quick call and coax the management into fucking off. Could you inform our people and help me in case it goes south?” Niall asked, his phone already in hand. From their work with previous productions, it had never been wise to let Niall get on the wrong side of external management. And in this case, where Niall was one of the leading producers, his aversion to any form of confrontation could save them a lot of trouble in the long run.
“I’ll keep an eye out for you and step in as soon as it’s necessary,” Louis promised, preparing to get back outside and tell everyone to finally call it a day.
If the recordings they were about to make would work in the end, no one would criticize their unconventional technique. Louis knew from the past years of working with Niall and a sum of shenanigans that had never caused more than a meaningless scolding. So, with all the confidence he could muster, Louis stepped out into the crowd of people, acting as if what he was about to do had been planned all along.
A strategy that worked out just fine as Louis made his rounds, greeted coworkers, and informed them that they were allowed to go home for the day. An announcement that no one dared to question, as the evening had already dragged into overtime.
The only person daring to shoot Louis a knowing look was Liam, whom Louis approached lastly, using the time that Niall was still discussing with management for a quick catch-up. Neither of them voiced what had clearly been debated behind closed doors, yet Liam most likely guessed it when Louis asked him to keep the cameras and lights untouched upon leaving. This led to Louis getting a short explanation on what had to be considered, in case anyone ever wanted to use the set for further scenes. Information that Louis was thankful for, despite acting as if he couldn’t understand why Liam was telling him about it.
Things went smoothly for the first part of their job, Louis concluded, as he watched the hall slowly emptying, everything apart from the filming area growing darker with every single light that was turned off.
But well… Things only went smoothly until Louis heard the same voices as before, slowly growing louder right where Niall had steered toward, making it impossible not to overhear their words.
Hoping for an easy agreement would have been straight-up naive.
Still, Louis hadn’t expected the external management to stick around for another ten minutes, busying themselves with badmouthing the shoot in a way Louis could barely listen to. In comparison to Niall, Louis could not have kept his cool for that long. A trait of himself that the unfamiliar group was about to experience themselves, Louis decided, as he finally made his way toward the source of chaos.
Just as Louis stepped closer, he could hear Niall try to argue against cost efficiency and the question of how no one on the crew had put any effort into keeping their client in check. Which, given that it was way past their scheduled time of working with a grown adult, was straight-up rude.
“As I said before, needing time to adjust to new settings is not unusual in our field,” Niall insisted, sounding calm although he had probably repeated the same statement in about a hundred different ways within the minutes they had been discussing. “I would recommend using the additional shooting days that we had planned to retry another time once everyone has rested.”
Despite the realistic observation, no one seemed to agree.
“This is not about adjusting, Niall. This is about finally functioning. So I don’t get why we can’t continue shooting until we get everything done,” someone else barked out in a tone that made Louis seriously question who exactly had let these people inside their building in the first place.
From the few demeaning comments that Louis had heard, he truly hoped that the person they were all fighting about was far away from the current scene. Because, in spite of Niall’s audible efforts, they had all succeeded in talking about this person in a way that made it sound like they were talking about a defective product.
“I understand that we are all standing under enormous pressure. Still—” Niall continued as if he hadn’t noticed the switch in tone. His attempt to speak was interrupted.
“No,” the woman from before cut in sharply, “this will not be paused just because you don’t want to work overtime with a difficult client. We won’t halt an entire production because he forgets how to breathe whenever a lens points at him. He will get a grip, remember what he was booked for, and give us his best performance. Otherwise, no one here will leave.”
As Louis checked his watch, he honestly wondered if Niall was expected to work into the next day. Not that anyone would have lived to witness that, as Niall’s voice grew more stressed than before, making it clear that he was reaching his limit of staying professional.
“I don’t want to continue because I can see that your client is uncomfortable in the environment we created. How often do I have to repeat that? He needs a break, just look at him.”
Before even understanding what was happening, Louis watched Niall point toward something about a meter away from the circle of people.
Then the realization hit. Niall was pointing toward someone.
And just like that, Louis finally comprehended that he had been wrong about one thing this whole time. That no one would ever dare to talk about a client in such a way.
“He doesn’t need a bloody break. Let him tell you right now.”
A few seconds of silence settled.
The woman from before turned away in the direction Niall had just pointed, speaking up with pure venom in her voice.
“You’ve been warned about acting up here today. So fucking go on. Tell all of us that you don’t need a goddamn break so we can continue here. I swear to God, if you wouldn’t have to get in front of the cameras right now, I’d slap you right across the face for this.”
And with that, all of Louis’ calm observingness came to a sudden halt as his mind filled with the static noise of pure rage. He was about to fuck shit up.
Chapter 2: December 2nd: Last Glow of Certainty
Notes:
Hi everyone,
Here is the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The moment the threat left her mouth, Louis stepped forward.
Thanks to his position within the production process, Louis couldn’t care less about whatever first impression he was about to make on the people standing in the circle. Not that the external team couldn’t get him fired if they complained loudly enough to the top of their company, but Louis genuinely did not care about getting fired for telling off someone who misbehaved worse than anyone could have anticipated. As long as his results met the expectations, he and Niall had nothing to fear. And results, Louis knew, would be coming.
After all, they had worked long and hard enough to gain the upper hand in a hierarchy where only the outcome mattered, where ruthless competence pressed down like a constant weight he’d trained himself to carry.
So, without taking a single second to contemplate any longer, he spoke up before anyone even noticed him, voice barely below a shout, harsh enough to cut the air cleanly.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Despite the ongoing argument, all heads snapped around instantly, eyes focusing in his direction.
Still, no one replied. The unexpectancy of his appearance apparently enough to make them freeze mid-motion.
Louis would’ve laughed if he hadn’t been too busy keeping himself from lashing out. The aggression pumping through him was sharp and restless, a current beneath his ribs, and he was sure they could feel it.
He moved into the circle like someone reclaiming a space. He rolled his shoulders back, lengthened his spine, and tilted his head toward one shoulder in a slow stretch that carried all the quiet impatience of a man who had decided he was done tolerating everyone’s bullshit. The mood around him shifted, caution growing.
Louis lifted one eyebrow as the group remained quiet.
“I asked a question,” he said coldly, jaw clenching in plain irritation.
Remarkably enough, it wasn’t the woman who answered but one of the men next to her. She, after threatening her own client, remained silent.
“We were talking about the plans concerning the shooting,” he offered, voice wavering slightly. Louis kept up his annoyed expression, showing a hint of distasteful surprise.
“Didn’t Mister Horan make clear the shooting time has ended?” Louis asked, locking his gaze onto the man. He hoped even half of his resentment landed, settling somewhere uncomfortable.
The man opened his mouth to reply, but Louis lifted his hand, cutting him off without effort.
“I think it would be best to hear Mister Horan’s reply.”
No one dared to contradict.
Louis looked at Niall with the same indifferent stare, catching the tiny, knowing glint in his eyes. A flicker of shared amusement, buried beneath their professionally neutral masks.
“I was trying to inform them of the option to see the results of today’s work upstairs, Sir,” Niall said formally, not revealing the familiarity between them. Louis wasn’t the only good actor after all.
“An option,” Louis scoffed with controlled calm, “would insinuate that there was a choice to be made. Which, right now, is not the case.”Niall looked like he was fighting hard not to grin, while Louis continued speaking, turning his attention back on the external management.
“We have not yet finalized the confidentiality forms. Providing you with the raw footage is against our usual procedure, so it would be appreciated if we could reach a cooperative agreement as soon as possible. Meaning you are supposed to follow our order of procedure right now.”
For a few seconds, no one reacted. Louis let the tension stretch, five seconds, maybe more, before nodding as if they’d all reached a perfectly reasonable conclusion. The silence pressed in, tight and telling.
“Good doing business with you then,” he muttered just loudly enough, and the group finally began to move as if they had actually agreed to the change of plans. No one discussed further filming. Instead, without even knowing who he was, they followed his command with an obedience they shouldn’t have shown him but Niall. Louis hated them a little more for that alone.
Not that he showed any emotion on his face. He knew how to play his role, the cool detachment and calculated patience edged with annoyance.
In moments like these, Louis wondered when exactly his office job had turned into whatever messed-up show this was. And with a quick glance at his best friend, the reason why he was not in his secluded office, found itself easily enough. He’d surrounded himself with the wrong people. Or the right ones, depending on the day, depending on how much he allowed himself to care.
Louis cleared his throat.
“Mister Horan will show your client out after we’ve removed the audio equipment and informed him about the specifics that will be discussed upstairs. As it is already late and past our usual hours, we would welcome the rest of you to follow our team upstairs in the meantime.”
A brief disturbance rippled through their newly found docility. Niall had been right about this management. It was controlling, entitled, and unwilling to let go of their client for even a minute. Almost as if proximity granted them ownership.
“Don’t you think we could wait for our client until we go upstairs, Sir?” someone asked. The smile was forced, meant to look appeasing.
Louis didn’t bother mirroring it. Despite wanting to throw a snobby answer back, he held onto the last piece of self-restraint he had left after a day of endless negotiations, as irritation simmered right behind his sternum.
“As I told you, that would cause further issues in our planning. So no.” His tone was firm, unapologetic.
The woman from before finally spoke up.
“I understand we haven’t been able to stay on schedule. Still, it would be nice not to leave him behind without one of us for supervision.” Her tone was laced with pretended concern, but the underlying anger was impossible to miss. “And you can call me Carol, by the way. Who are you again?” She extended her hand, with a forced smile on her face that did nothing to coax Louis into meeting her halfway.
If Louis had learned one thing in his career, it was simple.
Never let people get closer than is safe.
With nothing more than unimpressed boredom, he shook her hand loosely, already looking past her. If he’d appeared chilly before, he now dropped into something closer to ice cold.
“I doubt we need someone who threatens to harm their client physically. I want everyone to leave now,” he said, emotionless, releasing her hand. “And it’s Tomlinson to you.”
Without waiting for a reply, Louis stepped back and turned away.
“Find someone to lead your team upstairs,” he added over his shoulder, leaving no room for argument. Whatever they would say behind his back wouldn’t bother him. He wasn’t here to make a good impression. He was here to run the business. And given that they were following the plan, he had succeeded.
So, while everyone passed by him as they followed Niall toward the exit, Louis stopped fighting the smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. There was no harm in allowing his mask to slip for the tiniest of moments without anyone to witness.
At least that was what he thought, until his gaze drifted toward the bright lights of the set, where someone had been left standing on their own, the dark colors of their hair and clothing contrasting with the white background.
It was the person who had caused all of this.
Until then, Louis had focused on the enemy, or maybe deliberately avoided looking at the client they’d been arguing about in the first place. A convenient oversight.
They were working in the entertainment sector, so Louis had already built a certain image in his mind. He expected a conventionally attractive man. Tall, broad-shouldered, charismatic in the bland, predictable way the industry loved. Someone easy to position, easy to market, easy to forget the second the cameras stopped rolling.
Someone Louis would work with and then never spend a single thought about ever again for the rest of his life.
Yet, the exact moment that Louis met the pair of eyes that had apparently been observing him for much longer than he had realized, something deep inside his mind hit a quiet halt, like a wheel catching on something unexpected.
The man looked tired in a way that went beyond the exhaustion of a stressful day. Rather as if he had been worn down to something fragile and breakable. His brown, chin-long curls slipped into his face, but not enough to mask the fear tightening his mouth or the weariness hollowing out his expression. The slump of his posture made him seem painfully delicate, almost protective, like someone who had learned to fold himself small to avoid breaking. Like a person who had been pushed past his limit long before this moment.
He was missing all of the perfected, glamorous façade. Was missing the meaningless smoothness.
And something about his bruised edges made Louis miss his ability to keep a distance, as both of them, for the heartbeat that their eyes remained connected, showed a part of themselves that should have probably never been noticed. Something unguarded. Something raw.
Notes:
As per usual, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. Apart from that - have a great day, take care, and hopefully see you tomorrow as well <3
Chapter 3: December 3rd: Off Balance
Notes:
Hello everyone,
here is your next chapter for you to enjoy whenever you find the time. No matter if it is in the middle of a train ride or at home with a hot cup of coffee :)
Chapter Text
While Niall made sure everyone was actually leaving, Louis remained standing in his former place, close to where they were about to film, close to where only one other person was left. Louis knew he was supposed to get a grip. A grip he had barely managed to hold onto during the earlier chaos. One he had to regain rather quickly now, because the man in front of him had dropped into a low, almost kneeling position, shoulders folding inward as he started fumbling with the microphone around his neck, clearly trying to unhook it.
Louis moved into action before his brain had time to catch up.
“Hey, wait. Don’t do that,” he blurted out, finally closing the few meters between them, focused entirely on containing the damage before it was done. Neither he nor Niall would be able to fix the audio setup properly if anything was pulled or switched.
He didn’t intend to sound anything other than informative. Yet, paired with the remnants of his earlier assertiveness and the natural firmness in his voice, his words came out sharper, more commanding, than he had meant. The sudden difference in their height didn’t benefit the situation at all.
Louis saw the effect instantly.
The man froze, the cables slipping from his hands as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. His eyes snapped up to Louis’, wide and startled. Instant fear. And Louis felt an immediate stab of guilt at having caused it, reminding him once again why he was a lot better at working with assholes than people that he could actually harm with his words. Quite honestly, he would have fled the scene right at that moment if he hadn’t already been deeply involved in the whole mess that was taking place, forced to commit to the choice he’d made by stepping in so quickly in the first place.
Which, of course, didn’t put any pressure on him at all, he thought dryly as his mind raced one hundred miles an hour, desperately searching for something to say that could dissolve the tension.
He was too slow.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to—” the man rushed out, staring at Louis almost frantically, as if bracing for a reprimand. His whole demeanor made it shockingly easy to forget that he was, according to company definitions, a celebrity, while Louis was essentially a nobody in comparison.
A nobody who was currently fucking up the whole situation even more.
Not that Louis would have voiced how he saw it out loud. Instead, he focused on finding the right reply, settling for a softer tone, forcing himself to show a calmer presence.
“Everything is alright. Excuse my tone, you couldn’t have known,” he said as evenly as possible, praying he sounded less monstrous than he felt as he waited for the tension to ease.
The other man still looked cautious, his gaze scanning Louis’ face as if searching for confirmation that things truly were alright. Louis managed a half-smile. Or something that hopefully resembled one instead of just a twitch of strained facial muscles. At this point, he did no longer trust his own body. Just attempted not to escalate the moment.
Lucky for him, it must have been enough.
The tight lines on the guy’s forehead loosened, though he still looked wound far too tight, like there were awaiting instructions he was terrified of misunderstanding.
“I was trying to get that off. Could you help me, maybe?” he asked quietly, pointing at the loose cables with an unsure gesture, clearly making an effort not to touch them again.
Louis nodded before even considering whether he actually knew how to help. And furthermore, if now was the right moment to talk about the change in plan that had not been communicated yet.
“I can have a look at it at least,” he offered, sounding awkwardly stiff. Something he couldn’t quite explain to himself, as the guy in front of him was clearly around his age, which should have made their interaction a lot more natural than working with people twice his age. Yet, Louis had never felt this unsure in contact with a client before. An observation that he could not find any rational reason for. Not that he needed one. For as long as they managed to get things done in the end, Louis was willing to forget that any of it had ever happened.
Because that was all that mattered. Finishing the job, satisfying his company, and then never thinking back to it ever again. One of Louis’ unbreakable patterns.
The man in front of him was just another project for him to complete. Someone, Louis would stop caring about as soon as his official working hours ended. So, rationally speaking, Louis had everything under control.
At least, that was what he forced himself to believe until the man in front of him straightened from the folded stance he’d held, rising to Louis’ eye level. Suddenly close enough that Louis lost whatever shaky inner concept he’d managed to assemble.
Because maybe that was the issue after all. Clients didn’t usually get that close to him. Didn’t usually bore their eyes into his like that. And it was far too late in the day for him to react adequately or quickly. He simply took in the moment, mentally cursing. This was not a task he had prepared for.
To Louis’ greatest relief, just as he was wondering how exactly he should proceed, Niall reappeared, intruding on the scene without any situational awareness.
For once, Louis was grateful for it.
“Maybe he could help you better. If that is alright with you,” Louis decided, gesturing toward Niall as he stepped aside, bringing distance between them once again. He glanced at their lead, asking for permission to let someone else handle it.
“Yes. Thank you, Sir.” The man replied politely, though shyly, his attention still lingering on Louis as if a stronger power kept pulling his gaze back.
“You don’t have to call me Sir,” Louis informed him, almost at the same moment Niall made an exaggerated gagging sound.
“Damn, it’s weird when people call you Sir unironically,” Niall commented, earning himself a light shove against the arm from Louis, who huffed despite the faint heat causing through his system.
“Says the man who initiated that overly formal shit five minutes ago,” Louis shot back to which Niall only shrugged, already engrossed in the tangled mess of cables hanging around the other man’s neck.
“Was part of my role. Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” Niall teased, fingers working with practiced speed as he re-clipped the equipment. He was far too focused on the technical task to notice the way the third person within their small circle watched the exchange with a confused crease forming between his brows. His eyes flicked between them, as if trying to decode the dynamic he was suddenly confronted with.
“This whole ‘an option means there is a choice’ talk. What the heck, mate? Did you study law or philosophy?” Niall went on, stepping back to inspect his own work. „If you were my boss, I’d quit.“
Only then did he seem to notice the blank confusion clouding Harry’s expression.
“You haven’t introduced yourself yet?” Niall rather stated than asked, shooting Louis an irritated look as if they’d had hours to exchange pleasantries.
Despite the opportunity to defend himself, Louis found the other man’s gaze again as Niall spoke. It wasn’t the cautious stare from before. The panic had subsided into something quieter. Something that could only be described as curious searching. And even though Niall was the one talking, neither Louis nor the guy in front of him broke the contact between them.
“Mster Tomlinson is one of our contractors in the law department and a very close friend of mine who offered support for tonight,” Niall explained, using Louis’ standard introduction, given that Louis never used his first name when working with outside personnel. A ground rule. A non-negotiable.
Louis exhaled sharply.
“Louis,” he corrected under his breath, unsure where the impulse had come from but too irritated by it to fight against it. “You can call me Louis.”
Niall’s reaction was small, nothing more than the raise of an eyebrow, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Louis caught it anyway. Then chose to ignore it.
“I hope that you’re open to hearing our alternative approach for continuing with the necessary shots, Mister Styles? We thought about a different strategy for these last shots that is supposed to prevent pushing you past your limit again.” Niall asked after a few seconds.
It was only at the sound of his name that the man in question tore away his attention from Louis and turned toward Niall.
“Yeah, of course.” The response came too quickly, not quite grounded. Like someone answering a question while still preoccupied with something else.
After a brief pause, he spoke again, softer this time.
“And… just Harry is okay.”
There was nothing dramatic about the way he said it. A quiet sincerity that slipped under Louis’ ribs with unsettling ease.
“Alright,” Louis said before Niall could. “Harry.”
Harry’s mouth twitched, the ghost of a smile, almost involuntary, but enough to shift the air between them. The cautious tension from before subsided further.
As Niall started guiding Harry through the possible plan for the rest of their time in the studio, Louis allowed himself to tune it out, using the moment to catch up with everything that had happened and giving his best to prepare for whatever was to come. Because, as for then, Louis just knew that there was a lot more awaiting him.
Chapter 4: December 4th: Blinding bright (Part I)
Notes:
Good morning everyone,
Here is the next chapter. Fourth day, and it feels like a lifetime already. My sleep schedule suffered slightly under my overediting, which led to my colleagues panickingly checking my temperature because they thought I looked so awful that I had to have a fever.
Which I didn't. I was perfectly fine. Apart from my broken ego, of course, which slowly crumbled under the repeated question of whether something was wrong.Well... You guys don't have to see my face, so we're all good here in the hood.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Watching Harry get positioned in front of the cameras before Niall rearranged his outfit and hair, powdering over his face, felt weirdly intimate despite the distance Louis kept. Somehow, it almost looked like Niall was setting up a doll as Harry sat on the interview stool, letting the entire procedure happen without as much as blinking. If it was exhaustion or something else, Louis didn’t dare to question it.
Instead, he busied himself with regaining the neutral professionalism that had gotten lost somewhere between lashing out at an external management team and holding a stare-contest with a client Louis wasn’t even responsible for.
They had decided to use the extra time to practice for future shootings. A decision Harry had thanked them for, even though the clear nervousness shaping his features told Louis enough. When Niall stepped behind the camera and started preparing the recording, Harry sat a little too upright, hands resting like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“I think it would be best if we stick to the basic questions like before and try to get good takes in. Does reading them out from behind the screen work for you, Harry?”
At Niall’s question, Harry, who had just readjusted his sitting position once again, nodded quickly. Then he stared straight ahead, rigid, clearly bracing for the first question.
Louis, unsure of how to contribute, hovered next to the setup, maintaining a neutral, detached expression that felt increasingly awkward with every passing second.
The green light above the camera blinked to life. The only sign Harry was now being filmed. Niall exhaled loudly before beginning.
“So, Harry. Could you introduce yourself with your name, age, and where people might know you from?”
It sounded simple enough.
But Louis immediately understood what Niall had struggled with earlier, the moment Harry sprang into action. Every muscle in Harry’s body tightened. His face pinched. His eyes lost whatever focus they’d had.
“My name is Harry Styles,” he began, then halted, taking a breath that didn’t seem to help. “I’m 25 years old, and I sing.” His voice folded in on itself, thin and unsure.
From the side, it was impossible to tell whether Harry had even looked toward the camera, or if he’d purposely avoided it. A quick glance at Niall confirmed the view from behind the camera was no better. Just captured a guy who looked like he was being tortured. Louis couldn’t understand why Harry hadn’t run away yet. With his current expression, it looked like he’d choose any place in the world over the one he was currently in.
“Good,” Niall commented, although nothing about his tone sounded like things were good. “Let’s try to repeat that.”
Harry’s lips tightened further, clearly aware he was being lied to. Still, he repeated his sentence, voice strained and too rushed to be of use. The bright lights above seemed to push down on him, heightening the pressure and making him unravel more with each attempt.
Louis gave it three more takes. Then he couldn’t hold back anymore. Niall’s false affirmations weren’t helping. Not with his frustration barely hidden behind politeness. Not when the truth was obviously kept from Harry in another attempt to decide for him instead of disclosing what was happening around him.
“You look like we’re filming your hostage video, if I’m being completely honest,” Louis commented from the side, ignoring Niall’s warning glance. He tried to gauge Harry’s reaction, but there was none. Harry’s jaw stayed tight, his shoulders locked, his fingers twisting the hem of his dress shirt like it was the only thing anchoring him.
“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered after a few seconds. He didn’t look at Louis, just sank further into himself, like he wished he could disappear. Which Louis perfectly understood, yet knew that, given their current situation and everything that still lay ahead, their production, wishing to disappear, would not resolve the issue. Harry deserved the truth about it.
“Don’t apologize for that,” Louis said, gentler now. “Performing in front of a camera isn’t easy. I know plenty of people who’ve struggled just like you.”
It wasn’t a lie. And it wasn’t the first time someone had suffered from stage fright.
Usually, though, the needed emotional support was Niall’s job, but Niall looked just as overwhelmed, clinging to his sugar-coated approach even as it failed. Even as he remained unreachable from behind the camera. Louis had the sudden, quiet sense that maybe he could help here. If nothing else, he could at least ease some of the tension bleeding out of Harry’s posture.
So, without overthinking it, Louis stepped closer to where Harry was sitting. He’d give it his best shot and take the blame if it went poorly. Judging by how close Niall seemed to ripping his own hair out, he probably wouldn’t object as long as Louis improved things.
For the first time since sitting down, Harry looked up at him, blinking nervously. Louis offered his most reassuring smile before speaking again.
“Let’s get warm with the moment and try again when you’ve acclimated, okay? Must have been a long day for you, right?”
Harry nodded. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
After checking in with Niall, Louis grabbed one of the stools a few meters away and positioned it next to Harry’s, just taking off the spotlight by joining the center of attention.
“I really am trying,” Harry insisted quietly, like he needed Louis to understand what was already obvious.
“I never said you weren’t,” Louis replied calmly. “I only said our approach might not be the best fit. Now scoot over a bit, yeah?”
Harry followed the request, still sending Louis a faintly confused look as he shifted.
“Alright,” Louis continued as he sat beside him. “I’m going to sit here, and you’re going to talk to me. Forget the cameras. Pretend we’re two strangers with nothing to do but chat awkwardly. I’m sure we can manage that much.”
Judging from Harry’s expression, Louis was certain they had the “awkward” part down already. The rest would hopefully come with time.
“Is this your idea of helping people feel better?” Harry asked boldly, not even attempting to fake conviction.
Louis grinned. “Depends. Is it working?”
That earned him a real smile. Small, but genuine. Louis felt it like a win.
From behind the camera, Niall shot him a discreet thumbs-up.
“Okay,” Louis said, leaning back slightly. „Then let’s give this another go.“
Notes:
There might be a second chapter today... Whoops :)
Chapter 5: December 4th: Blinding bright (Part II)
Notes:
3 minutes before my train arrives. Working under pressure :)
Chapter Text
Louis just sat there with Harry, bearing the silence as Harry’s eyes darted over the technical setup in front of them, returning to the largest lens over and over again as if unable to get used to it. Louis leaned a bit further into the middle when about a minute had passed, angling his head to mimic Harry’s perspective. Despite the intrusion, Harry didn’t pull away, but stayed where he was, allowing their arms to brush without moving away.
Louis forced himself to ignore the way they were sitting too closely as he nodded toward the camera and waited for Harry to follow his gaze before speaking up.
“You see that little dot in the middle of the lens? Right there, like a pinprick?”
Harry hesitated, squinting slightly.
“Yeah?” His voice landed somewhere between uncertain and obliging — which was all Louis needed to continue.
“Good. That’s your orientation point, alright? That’s all you ever need to find and focus on. Not the whole camera, not the lights, not the room. Just that tiny point.”
Harry’s brows drew together, apparently hyper-focused on inspecting the point Louis was talking about, gaze coming to rest momentarily, his crinkled forehead smoothing out.
Louis couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth at the sight of it.
“When you’re nervous, just focus on interacting with that one speck. Not a high-tech camera system, not a fully equipped studio, not a crowd of people observing the scene. Just this one dot.”
Harry let out a soft, surprised chuckle that was more an exhale than anything, but it loosened the set of his jaw.
“Given that all you have to focus on is a tiny dot, it would be great if you wouldn’t stare at it as if it had just insulted your mother. Think you can manage that?” Louis teased, keeping his tone light yet careful.
Surprised by his wording, Harry’s head shot to the side, looking at Louis as a small smile crept onto his face. The tension from before subsided further.
“I think I can try,” he offered, exhaling slowly before facing back toward the camera, the faintest hint of his smile remaining.
“Wanna test it with the same bit?” Louis asked after they had both adjusted their positions. “Doesn’t have to be good. Just to get a feeling for it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Louis watched as Harry worried his bottom lip for a second, then gave a barely-there nod. Louis took that as permission, keeping his voice even, almost conversational.
“Apart from you, hardly anyone knows that…” His gaze flicked briefly to Harry, checking that he still looked relaxed enough to continue, before finishing his sentence smoothly, “…my name is Louis Tomlinson, I’m twenty-seven and work as a contractor in the entertainment industry.”
Harry remained unmoving for about a second before following Louis’ example, clearing his throat once. “And I’m Harry Styles, twenty-five years old… and a singer.”
His voice came out tense but not concerningly strained.
“That’s a start,” Louis murmured, keeping his focus on the shared frame before repeating his sentence once again, relieved when Harry did the same, his voice growing steadier.
After a few more rounds of introductions, Louis decided to break their rhythm and change the topic to what would most likely be asked in any further interview.
“You’re a singer. How did you get into the business?” he asked, noticing how Harry hesitated for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the question.
He remained silent for a beat, then shrugged lightly, gaze skimming over the equipment instead of the camera.
“I, uh, did a singing show. The Voice UK. First season.” His voice dipped, shy again. “I got second place, and then someone offered me a contract.”
Harry didn’t show any emotion, just told Louis like it was nothing out of the ordinary to participate in one of the most-watched shows there was. An indifference that Louis couldn’t quite understand.
“First season, you said? How old were you?” Louis wondered, trying to remember when exactly the show had started airing, only able to recall that he himself had been in his early university years at best.
“Seventeen when I auditioned. Eighteen a few days after the finale.”
Louis felt the weight of that information, despite Harry’s lack of expression.
“That’s young,” Louis observed quietly. “To do all that.”
The rather calm mood from before had turned into something else, although Harry managed a small smile that didn’t look genuine.
“Back then I enjoyed being on stage. So it was like living the dream.”
Louis didn’t push. Instead, he played along with the lightness Harry tried to reintroduce, although it felt misplaced.
“And here I thought getting my lawyer’s degree was impressive, but you one-upped my entire academic career before even graduating,” he joked, relieved when Harry let out a soft snort.
“I mean, it is pretty badass,” Harry countered, apparently glad that they were changing the topic.
“So badass that I ended up in front of a camera on a random weekday, defending my boring career,” Louis declared, carefully shifting the tone. “Which would explain my lack of dating. Yet it makes me wonder why you decided to participate in a dating show? Doesn’t seem like you wouldn’t have interesting things to impress potential dates with.”
Harry’s reaction was immediate. His face closed off, once again losing its open curiousness. As he straightened his shoulders a fraction, his eyes fixated on his lap.
Louis would have dropped the topic hadn’t he known that it was exactly the kind of question Harry was required to talk about. Niall’s gaze, which he caught from afar, confirmed his thought. So, in an attempt to get Harry to try at least, Louis nudged his shoe gently against Harry’s.
“Hey,” he murmured, tone low, private. “Just tell us the version you’re comfortable with. Doesn’t have to be the truth.”
Harry inhaled, slow and unsteady.
“What would people even want to hear?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. Not defensive. Just unsure.
“Well,” Louis said, thinking of a good way to put it. “People need to relate to you. Something that makes sense with your job and sounds reasonable.” He paused, then decided to offer an example instead of lecturing.
“I think I’m still single because I rarely find time outside my work. My private life tends to come second. So spending two weeks without distractions could finally allow me to get to know someone.”
A small beat of silence passed before Harry finally answered the question himself.
“I think it’s difficult to date when you’re in public,” he confessed. “People already have this fixed idea of who I am. Like a version of me they’ve invented and expect me to match. And I can’t. I don’t even know who that version is most of the time.”
He paused, eyes flicking back to the dot on the camera.
“A setting where people get to see more of me might be the first chance anyone has to actually… meet me.”
Louis felt something tighten in his chest. A sentiment of sympathy. A notion of recognition.
Because despite the differences in their lives, Harry’s statement hit uncomfortably close.
It sounded lonely.
Chapter 6: December 5th: Darkness interlude
Notes:
I'm in a rush. Kiss to all of you <3
Chapter Text
They repeated several lighter questions over and over again, adding sentences and wordings that could be easily used for the trailer later.
While it took Harry a rather long time to get more relaxed in front of the camera, they eventually found a way of acting that felt more or less natural. Somehow, things worked out, and despite hearing the same sentences for about twenty times, Louis couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself. Every new question Niall threw in brought more information about Harry, brought more opportunities to joke around, brought more details to the picture Louis was slowly assembling for himself.
So when Niall suggested that they could shoot standing footage to round things up, Louis was almost relieved that they weren’t done yet. A relief he couldn’t quite explain to himself. It was much later than he had anticipated at the beginning, and the only rational reaction would have been resistance to go beyond the already heightened limits. All three of them should have declined.
Instead, though, at Niall’s question, Harry just gave Louis a sideways look, biting his lip.
“Would you stay a bit longer?”
It caught Louis slightly by surprise how openly hopeful Harry sounded. His expression had relaxed further, his features had grown less tense. He almost looked like he didn’t want the moment to end. And that alone was enough for Louis not to even contemplate leaving.
Niall raised a brow at Louis when he shrugged non-committally, although he had already made his decision, fully aware that his expression gave him away.
“Actually, that would be great. Just a few demo shots, Louis. We haven’t done anything standing so far. Harry could watch you from behind the camera. Would give him an impression of how he’s supposed to look.”
Louis sighed, more for effect than protest. “Fine. But if either of you starts bullshitting about me, I’ll come for you faster than any camera could catch on.”
Niall didn’t look impressed at the warning, as he wordlessly pointed toward the space where Louis was expected to pose.
As Harry followed Niall behind the technical setup, Louis stepped into the spotlight again, the changed position of the bright lights around him flattening everything out. He blinked a few times until he could make out the two figures behind the camera, their gazes focused on the screen below the lens that most likely showed a full upper-body shot of Louis in that moment. He did his best to ignore the awkwardness of the whole situation.
“Could you give us a casual stance? Legs hip-wide, arms relaxed, maybe one hand inside your blazer jacket,” Niall proposed, nodding appreciatively when Louis moved accordingly.
It felt slightly strange to be watched by two people at once without any idea how he was currently looking. But Louis knew enough about their camera system, knew the optics and the way Niall liked his candidates to pose, to be confident that what he was doing would make sense in the end.
He also knew that if Harry had to get comfortable, someone had to go first.
“Turn a little to your right,” Niall instructed, tapping away on a set of buttons. “Perfect. Now look just past the lens.”
Louis tilted his head slightly, giving himself a moment to readjust to the light difference before refocusing. When he met Harry’s eyes, Louis felt a flicker of tension run through him, trying to remain unaffected by the gaze fixed on him with a kind of hesitant intensity. The second seemed to pass a little bit slower than the rest. At least until Niall made an irritated sound next to Harry.
“Hey, Styles. You’re supposed to look at the screen and learn something.”
The eye contact broke instantly, hard to tell by whom. Louis didn’t miss the way Harry jerked out of his position. And despite him instantly diverting his attention toward the screen below, Louis could tell that he was flushing while quietly apologizing to Niall. Not that Niall gave a single shit about the short interruption.
“Alright, Louis. Now look at the camera and try to give us a bit of a flirty expression. Like you’re not in a dark warehouse at 11 p.m. on a Tuesday but trying to pull someone who’s really, really interesting.” Despite the weirdness of the situation and Niall’s choice of words, Louis clicked easily into it. And maybe, just maybe, it helped to be hyper-aware of a specific person watching his performance right then. It was nothing to think about any further.
Instead, Louis gave his best as Niall instructed him through a few poses, explaining specific details on the screen for Harry to follow and understand. As role modeling had worked before, Louis simply hoped that his posing helped and it wasn’t just for Niall’s general amusement, which was audible whenever he asked Louis for another flirtatious, mysterious, or enigmatic expression. While Niall chuckled whenever Louis exaggerated on purpose, Harry stayed quiet, and whenever Louis let his gaze wander slightly away from the center of the camera, he could see how invested Harry was in following the action within the little screen in front of him.
Despite the absurdity of the thought, Louis wondered if Harry would have been as focused on the filming process if someone else had been in front of the camera.
But as Louis winked into the lens before looking up, he was rather sure that Harry wouldn’t have blushed so hard if it had been Niall standing there. The thought alone made Louis feel a bit warmer under the lights.
When it was Harry’s turn to copy what Louis had just performed, he got into the scene far more easily than before. Especially the lack of text that needed to be voiced seemed to make a difference in Harry’s overall ability to adjust. The fact that he still looked slightly awkward in his movements and steps was something both Niall and Louis simply accepted as a given. Something that would be smoothed out by the cut later on. For now, it was enough that the shy smiles Harry shot toward the camera appeared genuine and matched the earlier sequences. He looked more real, more touchable.
“You’re getting better. I’m impressed,” Louis half-teased, half-praised when they took another short break between shots, and Harry was repositioning himself again.
Louis wasn’t quite sure why he had decided to comment on it. Especially when Harry’s gaze instantly left the camera lens and found Louis behind it, almost staring him down with how intense yet uncertain it felt.
“You think so?” he asked carefully, almost guarded, as if he wasn’t sure he deserved the compliment. Any soft cockiness from earlier was gone in an instant. Louis couldn’t keep himself from reacting to it.
"Absolutely. From what I've seen on screen, you're doing pretty good." Louis was not exaggerating. Despite the smaller issues with acting confident, Harry had a way of being naturally captivating. The more time Louis spent watching him, the more he understood why their recruiting team had chosen him. A thought that felt both like a relief and something uncomfortably sharp.
"Thanks," Harry mumbled, lowering his head as if to bashfully escape the attention, hiding his face away. Still, as Louis refocused on the small screen in front of himself, he couldn't help but watch how perfectly clear the camera caught the way Harry wrinkled his nose, as if covering the way the corners of his mouth tried to pull upwards. When they continued, Harry's eyes stayed fixated on everything but Louis. And maybe that was for the best.
For the rest of the filming process, Louis remained behind the camera, trying not to think too much about the fact that, within the few hours they had spent together, he had learned to tell when Harry was genuinely smiling from his voice alone. He couldn't explain why, but deep down, Louis felt suffocated by the thought of other people seeing the clips of Harry once the show aired. It was almost like he didn't want to share this personal side of Harry, the things he voiced, the laughs that bubbled out of him after every single one of Niall's jokes. Scared that the world would catch a glimpse of something real. Which didn't make sense. Cause no matter how unclear it remained how Louis had gotten into the whole process, he had gotten a clear task from the very second on. Find a way to make the world outside become infatuated with Harry Styles. And as Louis got shaken out of his thoughts by another of Harry's laughs, he knew that he had succeeded with that.
When Niall finally cut the camera, it felt like Harry naturally gravitated towards Louis, the sizzling tension from before resurfacing as Niall left to turn down the lights from the other room.
They were alone, Harry still standing under the bright lights, while Louis remained in the shadow, wondering how Harry was able to stare so heavily into Louis’ eyes when he was surrounded by about a hundred bright lights that most likely turned everything in the darker parts into nothing but blurry shadows.
"For a lawyer, you are rather good at this whole performing thing," Harry stated lightly, a small smile playing on his lips, sounding almost teasing for the first time since they met. The only hint at his shyness the faint blush on his cheeks
"For a star you look a bit too longingly at the shadows," Louis countered, grinning when Harry simply shrugged his shoulders.
There were a few seconds of silence. But Louis could tell that Harry was about to say something, long before he actually did.
"It was nice working with you, Louis." It was such a simple statement, yet was said with so much honesty that it made Louis almost uncomfortable.
"It was my pleasure, Harry," Louis replied, bowing his head before looking back at Harry's wide smile. No matter how little natural talent Harry had for performing in front of cameras, Louis knew for sure that that face alone would make him succeed in whatever situation was about to come. A thought that was echoing through his head loudly enough for him to almost miss the moment Harry spoke up once again.
"So I just wondered if we could maybe-" Harry muttered, his gaze flickering downwards at the floor, avoiding their former eye contact. Yet, before he could finish his sentence, the lights above their heads suddenly went out without any warning, plunging the whole space into darkness. Probably just as surprised as Louis, Harry stopped mid-sentence.
The adjacent door was opened, and Niall rejoined them, using his phone as a flashlight.
When Louis looked back at Harry, the other one was staring at Niall, eyes slightly widened as if he had been caught doing something illegal. Like he had been seconds away from saying something that he was just reminded of wasn't allowed. Before Louis could even question if he should ask again, Niall took the conversation into hand. A simple look at Harry's tense expression was enough of an answer for Louis to know that he had wanted to say something important.
"Time to go," Niall announced, not sensing whatever moment he had disrupted. Somehow, it felt like Harry decided to outrun the conversation he had tried to start either way, as he instantly followed Niall's direction and exited the studio without giving Louis another chance to catch up.
The bubble around them burst, the outside catching up with them after the hours they had spent so far removed from it. The world kept spinning, the reality of the messy evening crashing back down.
Although it was already night outside, a quick conversation with the security night shift revealed that Harry's team was still in the building. Which wasn’t the best sign. From what he had witnessed before, Louis was fairly sure that the mood on the upper floor was not as positive as it had been downstairs. So when Harry decided to catch up with his team and join the meeting, Louis caught Niall’s slightly worried glance. But there was nothing they could have done. No way to save Harry from the backlash he was most likely to receive after his team had seen the earlier tapes.
"I can bring you to the office. But I really have to leave right afterwards," Niall offered, reminding Louis that they were currently working after hours. And from what Louis remembered, Niall still had to prepare for one of their meetings the next morning. While he had no real obligation to this part of the job, Niall appeared uncomfortable with the knowledge that he had to leave Harry on his own for whatever the evening still held. The thought of simply rushing him upstairs settled uncomfortably in Louis’ stomach. Uncomfortable enough for him to react. He had had rather limited interactions with Niall's colleague. Still, he had a rough idea of where Harry was probably expected.
"I can take him. Was planning on working a bit longer, so I’ll head upstairs either way and could show him the way," Louis said as casually as possible. After a few seconds of contemplation, Niall nodded. "Seventeenth floor, left corridor. They’re most likely in the smaller conference room." The instructions were clear. Nevertheless, Louis still felt a slight tension when the elevator opened in front of them.
As Harry stepped inside, Niall carefully grabbed Louis’s sleeve to hold him back. "Don't work too long tonight, alright? You’ve been in late the whole past two weeks, Tommo." Despite knowing he wouldn’t take the advice to heart, Louis nodded as convincingly as possible, winking at Niall before the elevator doors slid shut between them.
Then him and Harry were alone.
While the elevator started moving, Louis leaned back against one of the metal bars, trying to act relaxed despite feeling rather nervous. A glance at Harry revealed that he wasn’t the only one. Without really knowing what Harry had wanted to ask earlier, Louis stayed quiet, hoping the moment between them might bring it back up.
But when Harry spoke, the question wasn’t the same.
"Do you always work this late?" he wondered, sounding neutral, yet more genuinely curious than someone just trying to fill the awkward silence.
"I tend to, yeah. Reduces the load for my team in more stressful times,“ Louis admitted, trying to sound nonchalant and not completely pathetic. From the slightly concerned look in Harry’s eyes, he failed spectacularly. Shrugging his shoulders, Louis checked the digital sign above their heads to see when they would finally reach the level he had to bring Harry to.
"Are you working on the same floor?" Harry asked after a few more seconds neither of them filled with words.
"One floor higher, actually. On the opposite side of the glass front. So you can probably see my office from outside the room," Louis explained. It was really just a coincidence. Yet one Louis had been aware of when he decided to work later tonight. It wasn’t like he would be able to see much from there anyway. But from his daily view, he could already predict that he would see the people inside the room rather easily. Able to check in case he got a weird feeling.
"So eighteenth floor?" Harry checked the obvious, and Louis nodded. "That’s where you’ll find me if you ever have to search for me," he confirmed, to which Harry’s eyebrow lifted slightly. "Maybe I will," he agreed quietly, keeping his gaze on Louis as if waiting for a reaction.
"Maybe you should."
Louis couldn’t really explain why he said it. But as the elevator dinged and the doors opened on the seventeenth floor, he felt—judging by the way Harry bit his lower lip while stepping out backwards just to keep looking at him—that it hadn’t been the wrong thing to say.
"So, see you again one day, Louis." There was a tone in Harry’s voice that was hard to describe. And as Harry exited the elevator, Louis felt the urge to ask him to come back. Not that there was any rational explanation for it. There was no business they had to take care of, no contracts to make. And still, for the first time in a very long while, Louis couldn’t help but wish he was allowed another minute in someone else’s presence.
"See you, Harry," Louis said, barely able to hold a smile as he kept looking into Harry’s eyes until the doors finally separated them.
And then Louis was alone once more.
Not that it was unusual. He had grown quite accustomed to the loneliness that came with walking through the dark corridors until he reached his equally dark office.
The only thing that felt different was the pull inside him that urged him toward the window front of his office right after he clicked on the lights above his head. And while the lamps sprang into action one after another, he allowed himself to stare outside into the night for a few seconds longer than usual.
It would probably have been a waste of time. At least, if his eyes hadn’t found the only other bright corridor one level below so easily. Even over the meters separating them, Louis instantly recognized who stood at the window. Harry held his head raised, making it hard to question if he had waited the additional minute to catch Louis’ gaze. Almost automatically, Louis put on a half-hearted smile, watching Harry do the same.
Then Harry’s expression shifted. Just slightly. His smile faded, revealing a bit more honesty underneath. And as Louis let himself drop the mask as well, he felt oddly exposed. Yet he remained where he was, waiting until Harry seemed ready to turn away and enter the room where he was expected.
And for no particular reason, Louis kept watching even after Harry refocused, following his figure until he was out of sight and then a few more minutes until the automatic lights in the corridor downstairs turned off, covering his surroundings in darkness once again.
Chapter 7: Demeber 6th: Chasing the sun
Notes:
The later upload is a clear sign that, for once, the author had gotten enough sleep. Which, after a week of heavy nausea, seemed necessary.
Now that I am very well again, I can't withhold y'all today's chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
That night, when Louis went home long after midnight, taking his usual way through the deserted building, getting into his car, and driving back to his flat felt even more lonely than the skyscraper full of empty offices could ever have. It normally brought him comfort to be on his own, a sense of control, to drop whatever act he had to put on whenever he was around people.
This night, though, Louis couldn't swallow down the bitterness that accompanied him from the exit door of his office until he was sinking into his bed. No longer a lawyer or a picture-perfect representative of the company, but another random person with no one to wait for him at the end of the day. He felt weirdly powerless. Not that he would have ever admitted it out loud. But that specific night changed the tiniest thing within him. Small, yet strong enough to linger.
A desire for something he had sworn not to need.
A desire for someone by his side.
The following days felt colder than before, which could mostly be explained by rainy autumn turning into harsher winter. Yet, the days still felt longer, despite the darkness catching up sooner and staying long enough for Louis to enter the building while it was still pitch-black outside, just to leave into the gloomy night after hours of work. Louis' days were as stressful as ever, with nerve-racking meetings following one another, deadlines piling up, and mail chains about open contract parts not coming to an end.
What did come to an end, however, were the final details of the show that was supposed to be filmed at the end of January. And with it, one specific name kept popping up wherever Louis went.
The only thing missing concerning the issue was seeing the person in question.
And given that Louis was primarily working with the involved lawyers, it was highly unlikely that there was any chance of crossing paths once again. A fact that Louis should have easily accepted, yet, weirdly enough, couldn’t.
Which led him to rather unusual manners that he couldn't even admit to himself. So Louis decided to rephrase his plan in his mind, interpreting it more as profitable networking than whatever stupid moment he was chasing after. A new interpretation that sounded highly professional, but ended up just the same. With Louis waiting around in front of the meeting room where he knew that Niall was having the last meeting with both candidates' teams before the winter break, presenting the final results of long negotiations.
To cut it short, Louis felt completely pathetic as he tried to scan the exiting people as unsuspiciously as possible, greeting them with a rather reserved expression that was strictly professional.
He had prepared casual things to say. Offering to answer questions about the final contract, maybe combining it with a coffee. Most likely combining it with a coffee.
His options on how to proceed were almost unlimited. At least until he made out the group of people he had already met during a meeting not too long ago. It was the second management team they were working with. Not the one he had actually hoped for.
"Mister Tomlinson." One of the women he had talked to before approached him. Despite the urge not to, Louis averted his gaze from the office door and did what was expected of him. He made eye contact and focused on whatever the woman in front of him was currently saying.
"Our team wanted to thank you for the short-notice changes you made on the contract last week."
Good to know that Louis could now trace who had made his past week a hell of renegotiations. His response probably still carried a hint of tension, but he managed to react in the only acceptable way.
Just as he finished with the short conversation, Niall's colleague waved him over, giving Louis not a moment to focus on his main goal and slowly losing the overview in the small sea of people.
"I believe you haven't met our second lead yet. Have you, Louis?"
Why the whole world was playing against him this day, Louis could no longer tell. But he could tell for sure that the man whose hand he was currently shaking was most likely the biggest asshole he had seen in a long time.
"Louis Tomlinson is on our law team and was working on your contract, Brandon. He will advise our crew during the filming process in case of legal issues," the man was informed. Why Louis had to meet him personally was hard to answer. But given the short nod the man gave him, neither of them seemed to understand why they were forced into the conversation.
Brandon stood at least two heads taller than him, all broad shoulders and blinding white teeth, his buzzcut so sharp it looked freshly shaved. He smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes but highlighted his face just perfectly. Louis had googled Brandon once when he had been informed about his career as an athlete but couldn’t remember the details, rugby not being his cup of tea.
"Brandon Coleman," the guy said, voice smooth as marble, his handshake strong and impersonal. "So you’re the legal brain behind all this." What he voiced was still professionally polite, although his tone carried a hint of condescension.
"Yeah, one of the many brains that worked out the details and stressed out about the last-minute changes these past days," Louis joked, giving his best to appear just as polite, despite the annoyance he instantly felt.
"Well, adapting contracts is part of the job, isn't it? Didn't expect a team of well-paid employees to struggle with a few adaptations."
There was a slight dismissiveness in Brandon's tone that was barely hidden by the grin he shot Louis.
Arrogant prick.
It was how Niall had described him. And it started to dawn on Louis why.
"Didn't expect the love interest of a TV show to sound like a middle-aged manager in a hedge fund. But life is full of surprises," Louis bit back shortly, not wavering in his own superficially good-natured tone. He could have argued, could have informed the man in front of him about the hours he had stayed late to switch up parts in the hundreds of pages that had been sent out half a year ago and had apparently not been read by any management during that entire time.
There was no sign of success in trying to defend his team right now, though. And given that Brandon looked as self-satisfied as before, Louis' counter hadn't hit him at all.
“Anyways. I skimmed the contract on the plane. Looks tolerable. No red flags. My agent says it’s clean," Brandon explained, making it sound like he was in a position to judge. It was patronizing feedback Louis had never asked for.
"Great," Louis pressed out. "Then nothing should stand between you and the show."
His hope of making this sound like a good way to end the conversation was disappointed. Brandon didn’t just leave. Instead, he stayed a step too close, leaning in slightly, lowering his voice like they were in on the same joke.
“You’ve seen the female cast, right? I caught a glimpse of the photos before the meeting,” he stated, lips twitching. Louis raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
“I mean, no offense to production, but half those girls look like the only thing they’re capable of is looking good in a hot tub. Not that I would mind, of course,” Brandon added, with a suggestive wink.
Maybe Louis should have laughed along, but the disgust bubbling up within him made it difficult.
"Haven’t really looked at the cast, no."
What Louis knew from lunch breaks with recruitment was that they had given their best to include a variety of different characters and stories. Aspects that couldn’t be judged from a few photos alone.
“Just saying, we’re not exactly mining for depth here. But it’s TV, right? You don’t cast for brains,” Brandon remarked.
It was hard to imagine Brandon could mine for depth with anything but his dick, Louis thought. He could feel his jaw tightening, but he kept his voice even.
“Right. Because the way women pose in front of a camera always reveals their overall personality.”
It was clear sarcasm that the man in front of him didn’t seem to catch. An unmissable sign that he himself was probably highly qualified for hot-tub dates.
Brandon laughed. “Exactly!” He pointed a finger like Louis had just validated him.
Then, casually, Brandon added one more remark. “At least they offer enough visual material to fill up the boring bits that come with other mishaps in the main casting."
It took Louis a second to get the hint that Brandon was talking about his co-star. And another to remember that he was supposed to be unaffected. This was not a battle he was allowed to fight.
"It will probably work out just fine in the end."
He chose to ignore the clear implication and gave his best not to breach another topic where the arrogant idiot in front of him could badmouth more people. Especially one person in particular.
"I mean that wannabe popstar they chose as my competitor. Who made that decision?“ Brandon laughed.
And there it was. The topic Louis for sure couldn’t laugh along with. Unfortunately for this world, Brandon seemed to misinterpret silence as a direct motivation to continue talking.
"He’s medium popular, sure. Got the whole thoughtful-mysteriousness and wounded-puppy thing going. But is that really what audiences want for ten episodes? A guy who looks like he’d cry if someone raised their voice.”
Louis knew his own eyes were reflecting his true feelings while he spoke as neutrally as before.
“Well, guess the team wanted contrast. Though a sensitive man with empathy and emotional intelligence… why would women want that, right? Thank God you’re here to bring the nuance and classic manliness, yeah?”
Brandon laughed like it was a compliment, entirely missing the heavy sarcasm. Louis had to turn away slightly, just to aggressively roll his eyes at the floor before recomposing his expression. If this continued one more minute, he would likely punch Brandon straight in the face.
Thankfully, before Louis had to bear more of any bullshit, someone behind them called Brandon’s name, waving him over to a small circle of people who were most likely part of his management.
"Well, I'm needed elsewhere," Brandon stated the obvious. “But good chat, contract guy,” he said, clapping Louis on the back again. Firm. Performative.
As Brandon walked away, Louis stood very still for a second, trying to suppress the wave of irritation crawling up his neck. He reminded himself, once again, that this was not the place to start a discussion about basic respect or initiate a fistfight.
Not a single person in this world should have cared what this wannabe TV star was shit-talking. It was irrelevant. Utter nonsense.
But even knowing that, Louis still found his eyes scanning the hallway for a specific person, hoping that he had been the only one to hear the cruel things Brandon had just voiced.
One quick check made it clear that the small crowd had dissolved while Louis had been stuck in the talk with Brandon. The only reason that had brought him downstairs in the first place was nowhere in sight.
Maybe it was a sign from the universe to get a grip on life.
Not that the thought soothed the frustration bubbling in Louis’ chest as he half-heartedly greeted Niall, who approached him.
„What led you here, Tommo?“ Niall wondered, offering Louis a quick hug that brought the slightest bit of comfort. Despite him being his best friend, Louis was quite sure that sharing his thoughts and reasons for coming downstairs was something he was not supposed to be disclosing. So he simply shrugged his shoulders.
Instead of answering, Louis chose the best distraction topic.
„What made our team believe that Brandon Coleman was a good fit for the show? Could you elaborate on that?“
The snort Niall let out was answer enough.
“Ah, well. He ticked all the right boxes on the checklist: tall, smug, and just self-absorbed enough to think he’s the loverboy the women have been waiting for,” he said, resignation wrapped around every word. Then he checked the hallway, clearly about to spill something their surroundings shouldn’t hear.
“Between you and me. He’s been going on about some girl he’s been shagging for months. Only tiny complication is that he hasn’t told her about the show yet.” Niall gave a meaningful look. “I swear, this will blow up the second the show airs. If his management’s not ready for the social-media storm that’s coming if she decides to go public, we might as well start selling popcorn.”
It wouldn’t be the first time one of their candidates got entangled in drama before the official screening even took place. Louis could already see the NDAs piling on his table.
„At least we get some public engagement. And it’ll most likely fit the rage-baiting that cutting will do for him within the season,“ Louis acknowledged just as dryly, actually making a point as Niall nodded approvingly.
„Guess that might work. The only reason we get the full video rights before we start filming, right?“
For once in his career, Louis saw the bright side of that clause. Maybe some candidates actually deserved the hellfire that came with airing the worst things that had ended up on camera.
„Speaking of clauses and stuff. I overheard that not everyone from today’s meeting had gotten the contract in time. Which I found slightly untrustworthy,“ Niall informed, sparking Louis’ interest.
„That’s odd. Was it because one of our team missed something?“ Louis inquired, instantly scanning his memory in case he had forgotten anything over the past week.
Niall shook his head.
„Wasn’t a mistake on our part. Rather a shady tactical move from the other side.“
At that new information, Louis nodded, brain already hyper-focused on solving the issue.
„I know signing already took place. But maybe you could set up a meeting? I could at least offer some more transparency about the important contents. Depending on that person’s position, it might make sense.“
At Louis’ offer, Niall only grinned.
„Expected you to suggest that, actually. Already sent the person upstairs to your office,“ Niall explained, looking even more self-satisfied when Louis shot him an annoyed glance.
„Thanks for checking in with me, Horan.“ Louis tried to act like he had any issue with the unplanned meeting. But truth be told, his best friend knew him well enough. It felt right to get any weird business out of the way immediately.
„You can thank me after you’ve made this world a better place again,“ Niall teased unimpressedly, petting Louis’ shoulder as they walked toward the elevators.
„Let’s hope they enjoy spending extra time with me after the long meeting you guys already had,“ Louis joked, unsure what was awaiting him upstairs in his office. Yet Niall looked weirdly relaxed.
„It will be a one-on-one with our company’s best lawyer. I’m pretty sure you’ll get along just fine,“ he predicted confidently.
Louis couldn’t quite decode the humor resonating in Niall’s words.
At least until he finally made it to his office and opened the door, where he was instantly met with a very familiar face.
Green eyes bored into his.
„Hello, Mister Tomlinson,“ Harry greeted, right before a bright smile broke out on his face.
Notes:
As per usual, leave all your thougths and ideas in the comments if you'd like <3
Have a great weekend, take care, and see you soon
Chapter 8: December 7th: At the Edge of Dusk
Notes:
A bit later than usual. But I hope you can still enjoy it :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
„It’s you.”
The words escaped before Louis could brace for them, softer than he intended, tumbling out with his surprise on full display and a suspicious lack of air in his lungs.
There was a beat of silence within the dimly lit room.
“I’m sorry this meeting came without warning,” Harry said quickly, before Louis had even gotten a chance to grasp the situation he’d walked into. Harry stood near the door, fully dressed in a dark blue suit, looking oddly in place in the sleek office despite the nervous fidgeting with the file in his hands. “I didn’t want to mess up your busy schedule. But Niall said you were free.”
It made Louis smile despite himself. Harry’s concern sounded genuine, like he was aware of the actual workload Louis was trying his best to cope with.
“Couldn’t have imagined a worse Thursday afternoon,” Louis teased, rolling his eyes with an exaggerated sigh as he crossed the room. “You’d better sit down before I charge you for emotional distress.”
When he checked over his shoulder, Harry was visibly biting back a smile, tension easing just a fraction out of his shoulders as he half stumbled to the chair opposite Louis and quickly sat down. There was a curious yet nervous glint in his eyes when he looked at Louis expectantly.
“Niall already told me that there might be some details about your contract that weren’t sufficiently cleared before today’s meeting?” Louis prodded, nodding toward the file that was most likely a copy of the final contract signed a few hours prior.
“Erm, yeah.” Harry placed the folder between them, confirming Louis’ assumption as the cover revealed the front page of the contract. He only elaborated when he recognized Louis’ waiting gaze.
“My management didn’t find the time to explain the information in more depth. But Niall thought it might be important for me to at least have an overview?”
Hearing about the management’s procedure made Louis listen up, alert instinctively activating in his head at the shady way of getting clients to sign contracts that entailed as many commandments as this one. And with Harry looking so unsure—almost like he wasn’t entirely convinced he had the right to be in Louis’ office taking up his time—Louis decided to keep all the harsh critique to himself for now. The most important thing was getting the basics across. Especially the parts Harry’s team had likely hoped to keep hidden for as long as possible.
Given his growing aversion toward Harry’s management, who had tormented the whole office for weeks, Louis was probably not the most neutral person to discuss the issue. Still, while Niall tended to focus on good business relations and had insight into the filming process, it was the contract department that knew the document inside and out.
So without further ado, Louis flipped open the file, smoothing the first page with deliberate care.
“Alright. Let’s get an idea of where you might want to look a bit closer. Niall didn’t tell you anything specific?”
Harry shook his head. “Just that I should know what I’m signing myself up for.” A small, insecure shrug.
“You should,” Louis replied, keeping his tone gentle, endeavoring not to make it sound like criticism. He scanned the headlines and indicated page numbers, deciding on the best way to help Harry without overwhelming him. When he settled on a first topic and found the right page, Harry leaned in slightly, peering at the dense lines of text.
“I tried reading through it,” Harry admitted, voice quiet but steady. “But I just couldn’t understand what it was telling me to do.” Considering even Louis needed full concentration to get every paragraph right, it wasn’t surprising.
“That’s normal,” Louis assured him. “Lawyers like it that way.” He glanced at Harry, who was watching him intently. “We’ll go through it together. That will help, trust me.”
Harry nodded, visibly relieved. He shifted his chair a little closer without thinking, and Louis, catching the movement, mirrored it before angling the file between them so both had a clear view. They were sitting much closer than Louis ever did with clients. In a normal meeting, he would’ve had a second copy ready. He didn’t have one now, and he wasn’t even contemplating searching for one.
“Alright,” Louis began, “I think it’s smartest to start with editing rights, then appearance and image rights, duty of care, and then we’ll see what comes next.”
When Louis started, he was intent on simply bringing across the most important clauses. Just doing what he always did.
But, as they skimmed over how Harry had barely any control over footage usage, the edited narrative, or promotional materials, keeping up the professional neutrality became harder. Until it was impossible to simply break down the complicated sentences.
“This,” Louis pointed out after they switched to another page, “is what you have to keep in mind for every single sentence you say.” He used the grey marker to highlight the most important passages. “Interview sequences can be used in any chosen context or combination. It doesn’t matter how you meant your words or how fitting they were in the moment. Once you say something, they can use it however they please.”
When Louis looked up from the page, Harry’s eyes were already on him, an unspoken question lingering. Louis leaned back slightly, just to create a bit more space.
“Okay, example. Two of the girls are fighting because one of them badmouthed the other behind her back. What do you think one of them might have said about the other?”
It sounded a bit stupid to force Harry to answer, but he complied without resistance.
“I guess something like… ‘She’s a bitch’?”
Louis gave a small, knowing smile. “Exactly.” He tapped the paragraph again with the marker.
“And that’s precisely the problem.”
Harry tilted his head, clearly not catching on yet. “Because?”
Louis leaned forward again, voice low and steady, letting the words settle between them.
“Because if you, in an interview, say anything like that, even if you’re quoting someone, even if you’re joking, they can cut away the context. And suddenly it’s your voice saying ‘She’s a bitch,’ over whatever footage they want.”
Harry blinked once. “Oh.”
Louis gave a small nod. “Yes. It won’t matter what you meant, or how hypothetical it was. On the edit, it becomes your statement. That’s why I’m pushing this. You have to be careful.”
Harry exhaled slowly, a quiet, troubled sound. “Yeah… good to know.” A flicker of worry crossed his face, tightening something in Louis’ chest.
“Alright,” Louis said, forcing his tone lighter, “here’s how you avoid it. If you comment on anything and want to stay safe, always reuse part of the question. Use names and mention scenes. And whenever you can, stick to indirect speech. Sounds difficult, but you’ll get it with a bit of practice.”
When Harry’s face remained troubled, Louis paused, catching the wondering look.
“Well,” Louis went on, after a few seconds of contemplation, “for this example, you could reply with a slightly longer answer. Like, ’Based on what I heard about the incident on the second night, I’d assume tensions were high. But since I wasn’t there, I can’t comment on what was actually said.’ That’s detailed enough, concrete, and uneditable.”
Harry blinked, visibly processing what he had seen, expression more serious than before.
“Right. Okay. It makes more sense when you phrase it that way. I just-“ he seemed to search for words, „genuinely didn’t know about any of this.”
His voice had gotten quieter, almost like he admitted a mistake he felt ashamed about. Harry looked younger in that moment, vulnerable despite the composure he was clinging to.
Louis didn’t want to probe, yet the question slipped out before he could gain control of it.
“How did you end up signing something you hadn’t been educated about?” He asked, giving his best to tame down the incredulity.
None of Harry’s former joy was left when he looked at Louis once again.
“There was no point in asking for details. I was never in a position to change anything. There was only the option to sign.”
The finality in his tone sent a tight pull through Louis’ chest. There was history there, obviously. Something that seemed to go beyond the moments Louis had witnessed of the relationship with Harry’s management so far. Louis had suspected it, but was aware that he himself could offer no help in changing what was going on, could not argue about Harry showing resistance when pieces of information were clearly missing.
Louis wanted to say something supportive. Something useful. However, it felt like one of those conversations where saying the wrong thing was worse than saying nothing at all.
Harry spared him the dilemma.
“This,” he said, searching for the right phrasing, “you helping me… it actually makes a difference. And I’m really grateful for that.”
The sincerity in his tone made the air shift again, warmth settling back between them.
Louis tried to shrug off the previous tension, though something uncomfortable lingered in his chest.
“I’m just making sure they don’t eat you alive, Styles. That’s my job,” he joked carefully, joining Harry’s attempt at lightening the mood again.
“Even though it was never your job to keep me from messing up something that could benefit your company?” Harry asked softly, a question sharpened by clarity rather than accusation.
And there it was.
Louis had been telling the truth. Offering contract counseling was what he got paid for. Yet it was nowhere near the whole truth. Not when he had never spent this much time on any client, and especially not with sharing tips on how to avoid contract traps that his own team had created.
Not when he knew exactly why he was doing it.
The one thing Louis couldn’t answer honestly.
Harry had seen more than Louis meant to reveal. So he broke the moment in the easiest way he knew. He lowered his gaze to the document, finding refuge in the one terrain he never stumbled in.
“To continue with the next paragraph,” Louis stated, shifting back into his professional cadence, a clean escape route neither of them commented on.
And it worked.
They returned to the contract, to clauses and regulations. Words blurred into the kind of focused rhythm that made time slippery. Louis found himself adjusting the file every so often so Harry could follow more easily, ignoring the way they were getting closer and closer to each other with each passing page. In the end, it was Harry who, slowly, as if he had to do it secretly, drew his chair further, until their shoulders brushed. Louis didn’t move away. And neither did Harry.
They spent hours like that, dissecting topic after topic. Harry asked questions only when necessary, precise, thoughtful, and the rest of the time listened with full attention, something Louis wasn’t used to receiving so completely.
Dusk deepened outside the window, but Louis didn’t bother turning on the bright ceiling lights out of fear that it would snap the fragile calm that had grown between them. A calm that remained until they had finished with the last page. After his last explanation, Louis wordlessly closed the file once again, before glancing at Harry, half expecting exhaustion.
Harry looked thoughtful instead. Overwhelmed, maybe, but steady. After a few seconds, he nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting.
“That was… intense,” Harry observed, looking as if he hadn’t suffered nearly as much as one might have expected after hours of focusing on rather dry paperwork. Something about the way he was looking at him caught Louis off guard. Made him reckless in a way that he wasn't used to.
„Everything you do with me will be just like that,“ Louis joked mindlessly, meaning the jurisdictional work, only noticing the slight innuendo when he saw the way Harry blinked slowly, the double meaning clearly sinking in.
By then, it was far too late for Louis to take the words back.
A terrifying second of quiet stretched between them, in which Louis seriously contemplated throwing himself out of one of his high-ceiling windows.
But then Harry bit his lip as a small chuckle escaped him, clearly trying not to show that he had caught the unwanted double meaning. And while Louis most likely looked like he was ready to strangulate himself, Harry was obviously fighting his amusement, the struggle written all over his face.
"That is a great promise you are making there," Harry responded, visibly enjoying Louis’ embarrassment far too much.
Just to get the upper hand, Louis puffed out his chest as if he truly believed his own words.
„You’d be terrified of me if I were your co-star, right?" At the clear joke, Harry no longer tried to hold back. His laugh came out warm and unrestrained, so genuine that Louis felt like the humiliation had been worth it.
"No other man could have stood a chance against you," Harry confirmed, still grinning while pretending to picture the idea. Louis tried to ignore the way the compliment landed too directly.
"This Coleman idiot would not have for sure. You, though..." Louis let the sentence drift unfinished, suddenly unsure if speaking the rest aloud was a wise decision. His mind supplied more than enough inappropriate endings, and silence seemed safer.
It did not slip past Harry.
"Me, though?" he asked with gentle curiosity, eyebrows drawing together as if he was genuinely unsure what had gone unsaid. Their tone had been playful before, and Louis could have joked his way out of it. But his voice would not have sounded casual if he tried.
"I was just thinking that well..." Louis searched for something harmless, something meaningless.
Before he found it, his corded telephone rang beside them, startling both of them.
A quick look at the display made Louis groan. He leaned over the desk and grabbed the receiver.
"What do you want, Niall?" he asked the second the phone touched his ear, instinctively glancing at Harry. Harry’s attention was still completely on him.
"I am reminding you that our recap meeting starts in less than five minutes, and you are suspiciously late. So I wanted to check if you forgot," Niall said without greeting.
"The meeting. Shit."
Louis had indeed forgotten.
"Get your stupid ass upstairs before they send a search party," Niall demanded, then paused. "Styles is not still in your office, is he?"
Rationally, nothing was wrong with Harry being there even hours later. Rationally, Niall should have been grateful Louis had dealt with the contract issue at all. Rationally, Louis should have simply told the truth.
Instead, he instinctively angled his body away from the other man in the room.
"No," Louis muttered. Lying to his best friend for absolutely no reason.
"Alright. Then you'd better start running, idiot."
Niall hung up before Louis could retaliate.
Louis exhaled, trying to gather himself enough to salvage the moment. But when he turned back, he saw Harry already rising from his chair.
"You forgot about a meeting," Harry stated, not even phrasing it as a question. Louis nodded.
"I am sorry for ending our time together so abruptly. It is extremely unprofessional of me," Louis apologized, praying his face was not broadcasting the complete mortification he felt.
After he snatched up his laptop and handwritten notes, he found Harry watching him with a mischievous grin, hand already on the doorknob.
"Given our first time getting to know each other, I doubt you ever saw any professionalism from me," Harry countered. The memory of filming Harry’s introduction video flashed vividly in Louis’ mind. Instead of blurting something stupid, he tried to keep a neutral expression on his face. It did not work.
Harry’s amusement deepened, clearly waiting for Louis to admit the obvious.
"Do not taunt me into saying something I am not allowed to," Louis warned, though without real bite, following Harry out of the office and into the empty hallway.
When Harry paused and looked back, Louis found them standing much closer than expected. Something brightened in Harry’s eyes, an intensity that seemed to vibrate through the air as he held Louis’ gaze far too steadily.
"I would never dare to," Harry whispered playfully, distracting enough to make Louis forget what he had planned to say.
Louis needed something to diffuse the tension. He needed anything at all. If he wanted to. And he did want to, didn't he?
Before he could speak, Harry stepped back, as if having sensed Louis’ thoughts, creating distance between them once again.
"I should not hold you up any longer," he decided, reminding Louis that he needed to run if he wanted to be on time.
"Yeah. Right. I need to head in the other direction.“
Louis locked his office door and hurried down the hallway, trying to look competent while essentially fleeing. But as he was about to turn the corner, he looked back to where Harry was still standing, one last time.
"You can always stop by if you need help again, okay?" He sounded a bit too breathless.
Harry’s smile brightened.
"I will. See you again, Louis."
Notes:
Thanks again for all the sweet comments and your opinions on the characters so far. Interacting in the comments is just the best thing about posting <3
Chapter 9: December 8th: Fairy lights
Notes:
Hello :) I hope you all have a great first day of the week. Here is today's chapter. As always, feel free to leave your thougths or questions here.
Chapter Text
It happened sooner than expected.
About a week later, at the beginning of December, when Louis was on his way downstairs toward the cafeteria. He had chosen to skip the usual lunch break with Niall and the rest of his colleagues once again, given that his schedule simply did not seem to get any less crowded. So, despite Niall sounding rather annoyed that Louis had canceled on him last minute yet again, Louis still felt like it had been the right decision. Even if it meant settling for a rather unsatisfying sandwich, he could eat while working through his current projects.
At least, that had been the plan until he entered the cafeteria and was instantly met with an empty counter that made it painfully clear he was too late. Given that he had a long day ahead, his mood soured immediately, especially since it had been entirely his own fault.
Still, he had enough work piled up to dismiss the idea of getting lunch somewhere else. Skipping a meal again would probably work out for another day. Not that it helped to improve his mood.
"Damn it," Louis grumbled as he turned away from the glass cases and accepted that heading back upstairs was the most rational option.
On his way to the elevators, he already cursed the day as the worst one of the month until he let his gaze pass over the small crowd that had just stepped out of the elevator and recognized a specific face within seconds.
Louis smiled as professionally as possible, raising his hand loosely as if greeting casually. Being casual, of course.
Instead of a similarly non-committal greeting, he was met with a bright smile that made him slow down and subtly alter his path to cross the group’s trajectory.
"Not at lunch with the others?" one of Niall’s colleagues asked when Louis came close enough. He was accompanied by the management team Louis had met not too long ago.
"Day was a bit too packed, unfortunately. I thought I could get something quick, but I was too late," Louis explained, adding a laugh purely to avoid sounding as pitiful as he felt.
"The workaholic we know and appreciate. No time for lunch at all," his colleague joked, then nodded toward his group. "We just finished the partnership reviews and planned to have a break together now. Would have offered you to join, but I will not keep you from work."
"Appreciate it," Louis replied through gritted teeth, already edging back into motion to avoid getting trapped in unnecessary small talk. He could not help but search for the eyes that had pulled his attention toward the group in the first place. Harry was already looking at him, holding his gaze with a slightly questioning expression. As if he were seeing straight through whatever Louis was trying to present himself as.
Then someone addressed Harry from the side, and the moment broke. Louis took it as his cue to leave. Back upstairs, back to the unavoidable work. Back to his well-known routine.
His lunch break was productive. But it sucked. It sucked to have nothing to eat. It sucked not having had a second to breathe. It sucked knowing that Niall was angry with him for canceling.
It sucked until a knock at the door cut through Louis’ thoughts. He would have expected Niall lecturing him yet again about work-life balance, but was aware that Niall never bothered knocking and would have barged in as usual.
"Come in," Louis called, barely glancing up from where he was leaning over his files, expecting one of his team members to catch him up on something. The door opened only enough for the person on the other side to poke their head in.
"Hey," came a soft greeting, the voice shy and slightly unsure.
As soon as Louis realized who it was, he straightened abruptly, smoothing down the side of his hair that was undoubtedly a mess from running his hand through it.
Why on earth was Harry Styles in his office? And why did it make Louis instantly nervous to be caught in such an unprepared position? Again.
"Harry?" Louis could not hide the surprise in his voice. And given that he had no meetings scheduled with him, he saw no reason to try.
"Sorry for interrupting you," Harry apologized, shifting slightly but not stepping inside. "But I… brought you something back from the restaurant we were at?" He opened the door a few inches more and lifted a small paper bag as if he needed visible proof that he was telling the truth. Louis reacted before he had even grasped the situation.
"You did what?"
This time, Louis really should have masked his shock. Harry looked even more unsure.
"I just thought…" Harry bit his lip. Something he seemed to do rather often. “You might not have someone else to bring you something. But if you do not want it, I can just… you know." He trailed off, looking ready to retreat the second Louis showed any sign of displeasure.
"You brought me lunch?" Louis asked, feeling his furrowed expression soften into something calmer.
"Yeah?" Harry mumbled, apparently still unable to read his reaction.
"You might have just saved my day," Louis finally breathed, leaning to the side to get a better glimpse of the bag, remembering just how hungry he had been for the past hour. Harry held it out for him and then carefully stepped inside.
"We went to a Chinese place a few minutes from here. I picked something that sounded like you might enjoy it. Nothing too fancy, a little bit of spice."
God, Louis could have inhaled literally anything at this point.
"Niall told me you usually work until late at night. Last time we worked together, I mean. So I figured going without anything to eat would probably suck."
At the painfully accurate observation, Louis only nodded, reaching out when Harry offered the bag. It smelled delicious.
"Tell me how much I have to pay you for hand-delivering this to my office," Louis requested as he unpacked the box from its wrapper, too impatient to wait another minute.
"I decided to work for free today. Lunch is on me." Harry was clearly fighting his grin, his eyes glimmering with mischief at Louis’ skeptical look.
"You know I shouldn’t accept that," Louis stated, aware that neither of them had ever cared much about business regulations concerning interactions between consultants and clients.
"Do you have a lot of work to do today?" Harry asked, as if he hadn’t heard the remark, still standing like he was waiting for Louis to kick him out. Which, given the hours ahead, Louis technically should have done soon.
"I’ve got a set of contracts to finish proofreading, and a new bunch of important papers came in today that I want to get off my desk as soon as possible," Louis explained, earning a sympathetic nod from Harry.
"There’s a promotion in sight, right?"
That was information Harry shouldn’t have exactly known about. Barely more than Louis’ close colleagues were aware of it so far. Given Niall’s tendency to overshare and the team’s loud conversations in front of clients, there was no mystery as to how Harry had heard about it. Louis shrugged, aiming to look like it wasn’t a big deal and not like his whole happiness depended on it.
"It has been discussed in the past months. So I tried to put in maximum effort in the hope of having a chance," he explained honestly, unable to measure how many weeks he had spent working every minute he could. The negotiations were still ongoing, the pressure relentless, and the competition within his team very much alive.
"Then I’d better go and let you get back to work. But this promotion… it sounds like you’d deserve it for sure," Harry acknowledged, sincerity unmistakable. Louis was almost surprised Harry had come solely to bring him lunch. Needing nothing from him. The realization made something inside him tingle with an unfamiliar warmth.
"Thank you, Harry. And thanks for stopping by just to bring me this." Louis pointed his plastic fork toward the box of noodles he had finally opened and started stirring.
"Of course, Louis."
Harry had already opened the door, looking like he was about to step out, which gave Louis the safety to finally indulge in his lunch, the scent filling the confined office almost instantly.
What came as a slight surprise was Harry turning back once more, like he wanted to give Louis a final goodbye. Instead, he was met with Louis staring at him wide-eyed mid-bite, fork stuffed with food, and absolutely no chance of appearing remotely mannered.
"Hope you’ll enjoy it," Harry rushed out quietly, not leaving quickly enough to hide the bright grin tugging at his lips.
Before Louis could die of sheer embarrassment, the door fell shut.
And given that whatever Harry had picked tasted a little like heaven, Louis chose to postpone dying for a few minutes.
But he would get Harry back for this one.
And a few days later, the opportunity presented itself without him having to put any effort into it.
Louis had been on his way back from Niall’s office, where he had taken a short break between meetings. Given that he had canceled the past lunch dates and bar nights due to his workload, he knew ignoring Niall for a sixth week would result in another argument. So Louis had used what little time he had to offer Niall both coffee and peace. Which, given Niall’s usual good-natured temper, had been accepted instantly. After another lecture on the importance of taking care of oneself, they had drifted into office gossip Louis had missed the past days.
The NDA Louis had offered to draft, meant to cover things once Brandon ended his current relationship, had been met with nothing but a short, dismissive email. Which was, frankly, the polite summary of the exchange Niall had endured on Louis’ behalf. Louis was relieved he hadn’t been there. Unlike Niall, Louis lost his temper far quicker when faced with unprofessional and potentially consequential behavior.
Maybe bringing it up while Brandon was sprawled across a lounge chair, halfway through recounting his latest romantic exploits, hadn’t been the wisest setting for introducing legal paperwork. Still, they had done everything reasonably possible. The rest was up to Brandon. And, as Louis suspected, that was precisely the problem.
Still, he decided not to panic over something that hadn’t even happened yet and instead let Niall recount the more entertaining details he had collected over the past weeks.
When they finally parted ways, Niall headed to another photo shoot downstairs, and Louis returned to work on a client’s request. It was a fleeting decision to use the restroom on Niall’s floor before going back upstairs.
Nothing but coincidence placed him there. Coincidence that he was exiting the small stall at the back a minute later, just as the restroom door opened and someone stepped inside without noticing the occupied stall.
"I just don’t know what you mean."
Before Louis even saw him, he recognized the familiar voice instantly.
"I’m wearing the one you suggested," Harry said defeatedly, pausing. "Yeah, the pale one. But I don’t know what you mean by relaxed formal. That’s a contradiction."
Harry sounded agitated. And given that it seemed to be over an outfit, it was easy to guess he was involved in the photo shoot.
A muted voice echoed from his phone, confirming Harry was on a call. Realizing he would have to reveal himself sooner or later, Louis took a quiet breath before stepping out with as much composure as possible and moving to the sinks to wash his hands.
Harry was so absorbed in the conversation that it took a moment for him to notice Louis standing beside him. The heat that burst across his cheeks the instant he made eye contact made it painfully clear he was embarrassed. Louis raised an eyebrow at him.
There was a short silence, broken only by the faint hum of Harry’s phone.
„Turn it on speaker,“ Louis instructed quietly, drying his hands before turning back to Harry.
Now loud enough to be heard easily, the woman's annoyed tone on the other end came through clearly, sounding sharp and almost condescending.
„Someone is here to help me,“ Harry interrupted her monologue, looking at Louis with a hesitant, questioning expression. Louis simply nodded.
„Thank god,“ the woman barked.
„Hi,“ Louis greeted as politely as possible. „Could you tell me what you expect Mister Styles to look like?“ He used every shred of patience he had left, despite the urge to snap back at the exaggerated sigh he got in reply.
„As I explained before,“ she said coldly, speaking slowly as though expecting Harry’s help to struggle with normal tempo, „we settled on a more casual look than what he is currently wearing.“
Louis redirected his gaze from the phone to Harry, ignoring how the other man squirmed under the attention.
„But you want him to keep the original clothes that were picked out?“ he clarified, taking in the cream dress shirt, black blazer and dark trousers. None of which resembled casual in any universe.
„Again. Yes.“
In any other situation, Louis would have reminded her that he wasn’t obligated to assist and would have probably ended the call right there. The desperation in Harry’s eyes was the only reason he allowed anyone to talk to him like this. He took a slow breath.
„Can I take off his jacket?“ he asked, receiving a clipped „yes“ in return.
Louis placed the phone on the sink, then motioned for Harry to slip out of the first layer. He caught the jacket carefully, placing it beside him so it wouldn’t get wet.
Whatever Harry had been instructed to wear looked painfully uncomfortable. Louis wasn’t a stylist and should have probably dragged Harry to the actual team of professionals, but the helpless expression on Harry’s face made that impossible.
„I think rolling up his sleeves could help,“ Louis suggested. The woman confirmed immediately.
He gave Harry a moment to attempt the buttons himself before stepping closer, lifting his hand in question. Harry looked painfully unsure as he extended his arm, allowing Louis access to the small buttons along his wrist.
Only when Louis' fingers touched Harry's wrist, and the scent of his cologne filled his nose, did Louis become fully aware of their closeness. He focused on the buttons, undoing them with movements that were only slightly unsteady.
There was tension between them. Louis was almost certain it was mutual as he slowly folded the loosened sleeve to Harry’s elbow, ignoring how his fingertips scraped lightly along warm skin. He stepped back, scanning the result.
„Better,“ he muttered, mostly to himself. Harry offered his other arm without a word, and Louis got to work again.
When he finished, Louis turned back to the phone.
„Sleeves are rolled up. Anything else you were envisioning?“
The woman paused, thinking. Louis dared a quick glance at Harry.
Harry stood frozen, shoulders slightly slumped. Despite his tall frame and athletic build, he looked strangely pliable. Like a ragdoll waiting to be posed, powerless against whatever demand came next. Something about it was incredibly sad, and Louis felt like he shouldn’t have ever witnessed this version of him. But the woman’s voice cut through any hesitation.
„Four buttons open in the front. It looked too closed-up in the picture.“
They both should have heard her. Yet, Harry didn’t move.
When Louis finally searched for his eyes, Harry was already gazing at him, looking utterly passive, as if he had quietly resigned.
„Should I do it?“ Louis asked softly, hoping his voice wouldn’t carry to the phone. Harry’s nod wasn’t coordinated, more like a small jerk, but it was enough.
If undoing the wrist buttons had felt intimate, this was something else entirely. Louis rose onto his toes to see the highest button, fingertips slipping beneath thin fabric as he gently urged Harry to lean down. The warmth of Harry’s skin radiated through the shirt, unsettling in its intensity.
In the quiet, Louis became acutely aware of Harry’s breath brushing the backs of his hands, an inescapable reminder of their proximity. The buttons felt smaller, more resistant. The moment stretched. Louis could feel his eyes on himself.
Finally, he managed to get all four open.
When Louis stepped back, Harry instinctively followed his hands, chasing after him before realising the task was finished. He straightened quickly, face burning red as Louis positioned him toward the mirror.
Louis could see the discomfort instantly as Harry stared silently at the new stretch of exposed skin. With the changed fit, the shirt sat lower, more suggestive. Closer to the image the industry loved to force on their male leads.
His expression dulled as he faced away from the mirror as if escaping his own reflection. It hurt to watch.
Louis wanted to see the version of him from his office. The one who had smiled so freely, just days before. There was no rational chance of bringing back the comfort that both of them had found in Louis’ small office. But he still felt the urge to try.
Without waiting for approval from the woman on the phone, Louis reached out again, making Harry startle as he placed his hand on his chest.
Harry’s eyes widened as Louis fastened the lowest button back into place.
„Three is enough,“ he mouthed soundlessly, then picked up the phone. Feeling Harry’s attention still fixed on him, Louis couldn’t help but turn away slightly as he spoke.
„Four buttons are undone. The outfit matches your vision now.“
When their eyes met through the mirror, Louis winked stealthily at Harry, who looked completely blindsided, eyes big and trusting.
Blame the designer, not the ragdoll, Louis thought, relieved to see anything but that hollow expression as Harry regarded himself in the mirror again.
„I think he needs to head to the shoot now,“ Louis added, placing the phone back on the sink.
Then, with one last glance at Harry, he left the restroom, breathing properly again only once the door shut behind him.
Chapter 10: December 9th: At the Edge of an impending Storm
Notes:
Welcome back to another day and another chapter. We are nearing the end of the unofficial Part I of this story...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It became a strange, unspoken rhythm in Louis’ daily routine to encounter Harry, whether deliberately or not. From grabbing a coffee downstairs and catching sight of him across the café tables, surrounded by his team, to making direct eye contact during meetings too large and too impersonal for such things to happen by chance.
Their paths crossed over and over again. Most of the time, they weren’t even close enough to speak. A shared glance across the room, the glimpse of a figure walking past the open door of a meeting space, the faint sound of someone calling Harry’s name echoing down the corridor before dissolving again. And the few times they were in the same conversation, surrounded by others, there was barely enough space to say more than a neutral comment about scheduling or production needs.
They were hardly interactions at all. Too brief and fragmentary, the kind of moments anyone else would forget about entirely. But for Louis, they began to matter more than they should have, as he found himself chasing every opportunity to bridge that quiet distance.
Because no matter how small, how distanced, how fleeting each encounter was, they always resulted in the same outcome. With Harry’s tired, cautious expression softening the moment he saw Louis. His shoulders relaxing, the slight edge behind his eyes ebbing away, as if he’d just remembered he wasn’t entirely alone in all of this.
It wasn’t always a smile. But it was always something warmer. Something just for Louis. A visible shift whenever Harry’s troubled face lit up in a way that was hard to put into words.
There was never a moment too busy to register each other’s presence. Even in passing. Even when it was nothing more than one walking in as the other walked out. A breath caught, a gaze held, a kind of stillness opening between them in the middle of otherwise rushed days.
It was somewhat meaningless. For sure stupid. But it was enough to deepen Harry's presence in Louis’ life.
Louis started adjusting his timing, coffee breaks conveniently aligned with management meetings, paperwork ‘accidentally’ delivered to the wrong floor, check-ins with Niall timed just right to overlap with media briefings. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just a habit. Curiosity. Coincidence.
It wasn’t.
He kept Harry in his periphery like a note playing beneath the surface of a song, barely audible, but impossible to ignore once heard. No matter how deeply either of them seemed absorbed in their work, sensing each other’s presence never went unnoticed.
At times, Harry felt like a distraction Louis couldn’t afford. Most times, though, he was like a small glimmer of sunlight in Louis’ otherwise dull days.
There was no reason to see it as anything more than polite familiarity. Certainly nothing anyone else would comment on. And yet, Louis’ thoughts drifted toward him more often than he would have dared to admit. It was the way Harry moved through the building, the way he looked at Louis. Like maybe, just maybe, Louis wasn’t the only one waiting for these brief collisions.
Which could have been a blessing, yet turned into a curse.
Louis was on his way upstairs to yet another legal meeting in the middle of the week when he was reminded that nothing in his job ever came without another person seeking advantage. A mindset that had shaped him over the years he’d been working for the law department. By now, it came naturally. Every conversation, every gesture of support, every bit of help a calculated way of getting a foot in the door.
Exactly that foot stopped the elevator doors from closing, causing Louis to look up and recognize the man from the company’s upper management. Kaeller, one of the senior figures overseeing several departments, including his own. Technically not his direct superior, yet high enough in rank to ruin his week.
„Tomlinson,“ he greeted him with a niceness that didn’t quite hide the sharp calculation beneath it. Louis knew from experience that people that high up never sought conversation without an ulterior motive. There was nothing to do but smile along.
„Good to see you, sir. Are you also heading upstairs?“ Louis asked politely, fully aware that his own polished edges scraped against the silkiness of his tone.
„I am indeed.“
A controlled once over as the elevator doors shut, and Kaeller’s eyes stayed fixed on Louis. That alone was unusual. Their upper management rarely paid more than fleeting attention. No unnecessary interactions, no lingering looks. So this was odd. And Louis knew immediately that he’d been trapped.
Knowing that whatever topic stood between them would surface soon enough, Louis stayed quiet, waiting for the performance of pretending that crossing paths was anything but an accident to end
„I just remembered,“ Kaeller said, using the familiar set phrase that clearly masked an intention,„that I’ve heard your name quite a few times these past weeks.“
Given that Louis was currently working toward a promotion, the words made him stiffen slightly, a quiet pulse of nervousness slipping into the tension already coiled inside him.
“Did you?” he inquired, slightly baffled. He was fairly certain that his position as a lawyer was well known. But apart from a few questions about the current status of their team’s work, Louis hadn’t expected to be named like that.
While general planning surrounding promotions was always handled at higher tiers, the detailed nomination process including the selection of qualified people usually took place within the departments. So his name coming up among those far above the pay grade of everyone he actually worked with wasn’t exactly nothing.
“Of course it did. The current production has everyone operating under heightened pressure, so we watch every move that is made under our watch. With the cast profile of our coming production and the corresponding financial outlay, next year’s show rankings will be under particular evaluation. So we are doing everything within our power to get the best stakeholders in place as quickly as possible. This season has to be a success.”
Considering that, despite the general importance of his occupation, Louis’ job as a lawyer and contract writer was rather insignificant for the upcoming filming season, the statement irritated him.
“I can only imagine these challenging times,” Louis offered, going for adequate compassion. God knew where the conversation would lead.
“But it was your work in particular that helped with one of our biggest concerns,” Kaeller stated, casual as if what he said didn’t send Louis’ heartbeat up within a second. It came so unexpectedly that Louis barely managed to show anything but professionally neutral surprise.
“While I appreciate your kind words,” Louis countered carefully, his mind screaming what the fuck continuously, “the successful contract periods have to be attributed to the whole team.”
Always striving for profit should have stopped Louis from undermining his own work. Still, he was aware of what he could take pride in and what was clearly the result of a functioning team. The amusement his declaration evoked came unexpectedly. There was something going on that Louis wasn’t aware of.
“I am not referring to the legal work.”
Louis’ inner voice screamed a bit louder. Because really. What the fuck was going on?
“I’m not sure I am able to follow you right now,” he admitted, the palpable imbalance of power making his stress levels spike. He wondered how the elevator could still not have reached the upper floor.
There was a simple explanation for it.
The elevator hadn’t even moved, he realized after focusing on his surroundings for the first time. Neither of them had pressed a floor button. And it didn’t feel like an accident that his superior, who had stepped in just after him, was now standing demonstratively in front of the controls without taking action.
“We have been informed that there had been issues with one of our two main casts in the beginning. That working with him had been compromised by unsolvable tensions and reluctance that elongated not only the filming process of the trailer.”
Of course it was clear who Kaeller was talking about. But Louis played dumb.
“Oh really?”
There would have been no way to make his lie more obvious. Kaeller’s glance said it all.
“Thankfully, we’ve received more positive reports lately. And I’ve seen parts of the pre-cut trailer videos during one of our last check-ins with Mister Payne.”
Despite not having been involved in most of the recent production meetings, Louis had noticed a slight decrease in tension surrounding the teams.
“How fortunate. I’m happy to hear that.” At least this time, Louis wasn’t lying. He was silently praying that the uncut videos had shown only Harry and no one else involved.
Yet, despite his non-committal response, he felt the full weight of an assessing gaze settle on him. He was being watched. Observed and scrutinized by an entirely too knowing stare.
“I would say it was more about competence than luck that the situation developed the way it did. I don’t believe in coincidence when high-value assets are involved.”
It sounded like a fact. A fact Louis had not needed to know. The intentions behind this entire setup remained unclear, and it was exhausting. Whatever goal Kaeller was pursuing, he seemed to deem it smartest to keep tiptoeing around it. Louis felt like the seconds had begun passing more slowly than before, a thick dribble of time.
“Good to know the team was able to work through the difficulties. Especially with the departure to France clearly in sight,” Louis acknowledged, sounding a bit too dull but no longer knowing what he was supposed to say.
Apparently, the nonsensical beating around the bush had finally exhausted both of them.
“Why can’t you simply admit that it was you? That you were the one who found a way to get Mister Styles in line.”
The superficially calm voice carried a lingering sharpness.
Louis was too caught off guard by the statement to control his facial expression, surely looking like he had been caught in illegal business. Contemplating how to talk his way out of this, he already knew he was fucked. Not that it was a crime to get along with clients. But something about their interactions had apparently been deemed significant enough to discuss on the upper floor and had evoked interest.
“I was just helping where support was needed. Mister Styles and I barely interacted.”
It felt absurd to justify his actions the way others justified extramarital affairs.
“From what I was told, it was a lot more than that. Coaching the trailer shoots, offering further contract counsel, and allowing legal meetings outside your official office hours have not gone unnoticed.”
Louis really needed to escape this cage he had been lulled into. He looked at the unreachable buttons again. Whatever he said would only incriminate him further.
At least, that was what he thought until he refocused his attention and noticed he was being smiled at. A bit intimidating, yet not hostile.
“This is not an accusation, Mister Tomlinson. You understand that, right?”
Louis did in fact not understand that. He stopped mid-thought. Instead of surrendering more information that could only backfire, he considered how to react. It felt like he had to defend himself. But before he had a chance to come up with another reply, Kaeller shook his head as if he couldn’t believe Louis’ lack of understanding.
“You are not following, Mister Tomlinson.“ At least one thing that both of them seemed to agree on. „When working with people in a field like ours, knowing how to handle their emotional variables is half the job. As a lawyer, you are probably well aware of that,” Kaeller explained, to which Louis simply remained silent.
The experiences of the past weeks had shown him that he was barely able to handle his own emotional variables. But there was no need to say anything. Now that the topic was out in the open, the focus seemed to have shifted to making Louis understand his own role.
“You wouldn’t be the first to turn rapport into compliance. And nothing brings as much advantage as compliant people who play along with our rules.”
The pause in Kaeller’s speech felt intentional, a way of letting the implication settle. Something technical and cold accompanied the statement. Something calculating. And the next words made it clear that it was more than just an impression.
“Call it persuasion, call it charm, call it whatever you like, Mister Tomlinson. But if a connection gets results, you use it. And if a client shows trust in whatever you tell him to do, you know you’ve hit the jackpot.”
Louis could feel how his face fell without needing to check. Could feel the dread of realizing that his actions had been noticed long before he himself could have understood. That he hadn’t been left to his own devices out of empathy but with clear intentions. Clear intentions to exploit whatever trust he had built. Louis had to swallow around the lump in his throat before he felt able to answer.
“Thank you for your insight, Sir,” he pressed out blankly, trying to keep his face from showing his inner panic.
“I’m thanking you, Mister Tomlinson. It’s not that usual to have someone working so persistently and hard. I wish we could put you in the team accompanying the candidates to France. People here would have felt safer knowing you were there in case of an emergency.”
Instead of forcing himself to find an appropriate reply, Louis just smiled half-heartedly. It had never been discussed that someone from the legal department would join the film team.
“There are worse places to work from. I’ll be in the office full-time during the shooting period anyway. In the event of an emergency, I am available to assist you in any way you need. Even from here,” Louis assured, rather cautious about Kaeller’s true intentions.
“I’ll keep that in mind. From what we’ve gathered about you over the past few years, you are indeed always available when assistance is needed. I figure you don't have someone at home, then? Given your lifestyle, it appears,” Kaeller observed, a statement that skirted the line between personal curiosity and a veiled business assessment.
“I do not,” Louis confirmed shortly, wondering if Kaeller was mentally calculating his future productive value.
“A shame, truly,” Kaeller said, the words sympathetic but weightless. “While I appreciate the effect it has on your performance, I hope you’ll find your balance one day. In our line of work, a solid personal life can make you look… grounded. Reliable. Clients and investors tend to like that. Especially when working in a higher rank.”
Louis resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow.
“Maybe I’ll meet someone when the time is right. But considering the current project we’re working on, I’m relieved to be able to focus on that exclusively,” Louis said, deflecting whatever undertone Kaeller had intended.
“That is, of course, the right work ethic,” Kaeller agreed smoothly. “The results of your work these past months might bring you far. I've heard that your promotion is currently being discussed. With regard to your voluntary involvement in the production, it is an extraordinary way you’ve chosen to prove your worth to our company.”
And well. Maybe that hit exactly where Louis was most vulnerable. The possible promotion that had cost him most of his private life of the past year. Yet, Kaeller’s framing felt wrong.
“I don’t think this type of extra work should have any effect on my team’s decision,” Louis put forward as confidently as possible.
The laugh he got in reply was tinged with something that made Louis’ mouth taste bitter.
“Well, that is out of your sphere of influence at this point. Given my insight into the current discussions, I would highly recommend you deal your cards with thought. The final decision will be made before the end of this production. Further involvement in the process would only do you a favor.”
Louis should have nodded and smiled compliantly, but his lips pressed into a tight line that he couldn’t fight off.
Maybe he had made it obvious that he wasn’t keen on continuing the current conversation. Maybe his counterpart didn’t even question that Louis would comply with the indirect order soon enough. Either way, the metallic sound of the elevator button being pressed was the only noise that disrupted the tense silence as they finally began to move.
Notes:
Feel free to leave your thoughts. Otherwise, have a good day.
And in case you're reading this in one go: TAKE A BREAK AND HAVE SOME WATER (AND SLEEP PROBABLY)
Chapter 11: December 10th: In the Half-Light of Dusk (Part I)
Notes:
Good morning everyone :)
Today you'll get another double chapter. Have a good time reading
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Whatever it was between him and Harry, Louis kept it to himself. At least he tried to do so as well as possible. It worked for most of the people who surrounded him. During the final phase of the project launch, attention was focused on more important things than what caused one of their lawyers to be invited to non-jurisdictional meetings occasionally. As long as it was Kaeller sending out the invites, nobody seemed to care about Louis’ position. Nobody spared a thought as to why Harry was checking Louis’ expressions before agreeing or disagreeing to any proposals from Niall’s team. As long as Louis nodded most of the time, prompting Harry to consent rather quickly, there didn’t seem to be any need for concern.
It simply stayed an unimportant dynamic that was left unaddressed.
Although Louis couldn’t help but assume that opinions on his role, despite the wordless acceptance, were still circulating among the various teams.
Still, Louis was never directly confronted.
Not until the last week before the Christmas holidays, at least. On a day that Louis simply wasn’t in the right headspace for anything slightly related to the topic.
He had woken up that morning with the remnants of a dream clinging to him like static. The illusion of warmth pressed too closely against his skin, a voice he knew too well murmuring his name, the kind of blurred intimacy that had no place anywhere near his professional life. It hadn’t been explicit, not really, but it had carried a pull that had made his stomach twist the second he had opened his eyes. A direction he shouldn’t have ever been entertaining.
Louis had forced himself out of bed before the images could settle, shoving the whole thing into the same mental drawer where he kept every other thought he refused to examine. But the unease lingered beneath his ribs, colouring his morning with a paranoia he couldn’t shake. A paranoia that still electrified his veins hours later, when he was trying his best to avoid thinking or talking about one very specific person at all.
He should have been prepared for it, anyway. Yet he wasn’t, when his best friend approached him during one of the quick meeting breaks. Louis had hoped that their friendship would be long enough for Niall to know that Louis had no interest in talking about the instructions he had gotten from the upper floor.
But well. He had been mistaken.
“The Friday after the holidays will be the Post-Christmas party. When will you show up, Tommo?” Niall asked him casually, eyes focused on the coffee in his hand, as if he couldn’t already tell Louis’ answer.
“I choose the option ‘not at all,’ as I’ll busy myself with a bit of work to get everything done before the end of the year,” Louis negated, already having his plan laid out. He wasn’t the type to party all too much. At least no longer. Not with the never-ending to-do lists and tasks that never seemed to slow down. And on top of that, he thought Christmas parties after the official holidays were straight-up idiotic. Not that he didn’t understand the purpose of avoiding another event right when every schedule was already packed enough as it was. Additionally, the day after the planned party, the female candidates would be transferred to the filming location, making it the last night the teams would spend together before most of the crew would be flown out of the country to accompany the process.
Due to all of that, he was almost surprised that Niall had even asked, given that Louis had denied nearly every social event the past months. But then he noticed the overly sweet smile on Niall’s lips and knew that there was something up his sleeve.
“Well, you have to. Otherwise, one of our lovely guests won’t attend. And then we’ll get our asses kicked by social affairs,” Niall stated, making Louis’ confusion grow.
“What do you mean?” Realistically speaking, Louis didn’t want to be confronted with what he was already suspecting. Not when it came with his own involvement in any stupid plans that Niall had made.
“Promising that you’d be there was the only argument that convinced Styles to join the party as well.”
And oh.
Louis hadn’t known about that.
“Excuse me, what?” Louis asked, baffled, unsure if he had misunderstood his best friend.
“You heard me right. He needed a reason to attend, and your presence was the best I could come up with,” Niall simply stated, not impressed with Louis’ exaggerated expression.
“Why on earth did you deem me the best reason?” Louis asked incredulously, not sure if it was appropriate to follow his impulse to behead Niall during the break of an official business meeting. Given his knowledge, there were no firm laws that would have prohibited him from doing so.
Niall gave him a slightly annoyed look. The audacity. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t have that many arguments at hand.” He picked up a small package of sugar next to Louis, putting it into his coffee without any hurry, before continuing to speak. “Anyways. Why are you making this such a big deal? You seemed to be one of the only people he’s been talking to without looking like he’s waiting to be ambushed. And you practically held his hand through the trailer stuff and all of our past meetings.”
Louis arched an eyebrow, feeling unnecessarily attacked. “I did not hold his hand,” he stated the obvious, feeling a bit dumb as Niall rolled his eyes.
“Figuratively,” Niall clarified, waving him off.
Somehow, it didn’t make Louis feel less exposed. Exposed for what exactly, he couldn’t even tell. But somehow Niall had poked around something that Louis had chosen not to think about for the past weeks.
“Come on, Louis. What is so bad about him trying to befriend you? Our whole team is relieved to see that he has somewhat acclimated to the whole situation. And it would be great promo to get a few shots of our candidates at the party. You know the paps will go wild as soon as the trailer is released. And then we can’t show them pictures of Harry looking like he had been held hostage here.”
Louis opened his mouth to contradict, then closed it again. A short-circuited sound came out that could’ve been disagreement, disbelief, or maybe just a system error.
“Don’t go all defense attorney on me. It is a simple observation that has been made before, in case you missed it. One last success before the year ends could convince our bosses to finally give you the promotion you’ve been after for literally months.”
It felt wrong to put it that way. Like spending time with Harry was simply a part of Louis’ job description. But maybe it was. Louis didn’t want to think about it.
Niall clearly interpreted Louis’ silence as confirmation that he would follow the plan. Maybe it was.
While taking a sip of his coffee, Niall bored his gaze into Louis, like he was searching for answers to questions that seemed to have arisen.
“You’re acting weird,” Niall stated the obvious. Given the way Louis tried a hundred facial diversion techniques at once, he for sure didn’t help his own case but only made Niall look more irritated. Instead of explaining anything, Louis simply shrugged his shoulders before taking a few long gulps of his own coffee. It almost overpowered the bitter taste that the topic had left on his tongue.
"Okay, I don't get you," Niall voiced the obvious, focusing all of his attention on staring Louis down as if there was something he needed to figure out. Then he contemplated for a second. "I mean- Harry is easy to handle. At least for one evening. And you do like him, right?"
The question made Louis switch into a weird panic mode that made no sense whatsoever.
In every other conversation they had had before, Louis wouldn’t have needed to think twice. Right now, though, he couldn’t decide on what to say. And settled for the most stupid option he could come up with.
“Not really.”
And honestly, who was he kidding?
Niall, apparently. Who, despite watching him with hawk eyes, got fooled.
“Wait? You actually followed upper-floor instructions and did all of the past weeks’ pampering just to get that damned promotion?”
The way that Niall was wording it made Louis sound like a massive dick. Probably because right now he was.
Still, Louis made a non-committal noise, looking anywhere but at Niall in fear of being called out. Why Louis hadn’t just told the truth was hard to tell. Yet he felt caught in a secret, despite not having one. There was technically nothing wrong with getting along with a client. Although there was something fundamentally wrong with informing a client about firm-internal interviewing and editing techniques, offering tips on how to escape the narrative traps and manipulative pitfalls the production team relied on, lying to people on the phone, disregarding clear instructions concerning outfits, harbouring dreams that wandered well beyond the edges of anything ethically grey.
It had been reckless, borderline inappropriate, and painfully transparent in a way Louis hated to examine too closely. Despite all of it, Niall seemed to fall for Louis’ diversion tactic rather easily.
“As long as your evil scheming works, I really shouldn’t care. But what the fuck is wrong with you lawyers?” Niall muttered, sounding like he had to suppress his own disgust.
Things had taken a turn that Louis had not anticipated. In his last attempt to keep up his cover, he stupidly decided to just play along.
“When will Harry show up then?” he checked instead of correcting whatever Niall had misinterpreted.
“I told him you’d be there around nine.”
Louis simply nodded, turning towards the meeting room again, ready to leave the conversation behind and refocus on his actual job.
“And Tommo?” Niall shot him a half grin when Louis glanced back at him. “It’s framed as an informal and cozy event. Can you wear one of your jumpers and not put your missing work-life balance on painful display by getting there in your suit? Wearing something that isn’t black also makes your eyes look less soul-crushing.”
The fake smile that Louis shot him was accompanied by a discreet display of his middle finger. Niall laughed, apparently missing the tense appearance that matched the tightening in Louis’ chest.
Notes:
I'd be very relieved to receive any feedback on how you're feeling so far. I hope y'all are enjoying his year's advent calendar <3
Chapter 12: December 10th: In the Half-Light of Dusk (Part II)
Notes:
Enjoy it while it lasts...
Chapter Text
It was a strange feeling that settled uncomfortably within Louis’ body. A sensation that only strengthened one and a half weeks later, when Louis was making his way downstairs to the decorated conference rooms that had been prepared for the annual Post-Christmas party that was held.
His time at home with his mother and sisters had been a nice distraction from what was waiting for him. And despite a constant struggle not to accidentally drop Harry’s name in front of his curious sisters, it had been nice to talk about his struggles with never-ending meetings and demanding management.
One night, when it had only been him and his mother, Louis had dared to tell her about the one client he hadn’t been able to get off his mind. At least he had shared the few thoughts concerning the matter that weren’t making him despise himself further. Had framed it all as an act of helping out a person that he felt responsible for. And despite the remaining confusion as to why Louis couldn’t even stop overthinking when he was miles and miles away from said person, the reassuring smile from his mother had made everything a little bit better. How she had succeeded in getting him to actually go to the party was still beyond him, though.
Yet, he was right where he had been told to be as the clock hit nine.
Louis’ sweater was dark blue, probably still blackish enough to make his eyes look soul-crushing, yet the most festive and casual that Louis felt able to manage after a first full workday since Christmas. Which, in all honesty, had been filled with thoughts about how the evening would be going down rather than any document that had been placed on his desk.
There was no reason to be nervous. But finding security within the clear boundaries of business meetings had carried Louis through the past years of working. And as he usually avoided any form of social event, he did not have any inner script on how to behave or interact.
Which was one of the many reasons he made his way to the makeshift bar first when he was faced with the masses of people in the overly decorated room. Despite Christmas being over, the fairy lights and red elements hanging from the ceiling looked suspiciously similar to those of a Christmas party. Louis found it pretentious. Not that he would have dared to say that out loud. He was, after all, a somewhat professional lawyer.
His smile was fake whenever he greeted colleagues or former business partners in passing, cursing Niall under his breath for forcing him into this.
Maybe, Louis suspected, cursing his name had worked like summoning a demon, as he recognized Niall from afar, raising a hand to acknowledge him. When Niall raised both hands in reply, each with a glass of champagne in it, Louis switched course and made his way over to the small group that his friend was standing in.
Most of them were part of Niall’s team, including Liam, who opened up their circle and made space for Louis as he took the offered drink and downed half of it with as much professionalism as possible. Thanks to his own inability to ever relax, getting slightly buzzed seemed like the best way to act like a normal human being and prepare himself for when he would eventually be met with the reason he was there in the first place.
“Your special guest should be here in about half an hour. Maybe use that time to loosen up those tense shoulders of yours,” Niall advised lightly, voice hushed enough for only Louis to hear as he leaned closer.
“I demand compensation for this bullshit,” Louis muttered, keeping a neutral expression as he let his gaze drift over the room.
“Good thing Liam and I still have to give you our birthday present then,” Niall teased, grinning mischievously and making Louis wonder whether whatever the two of them had planned was really something he wanted to receive. Given that Niall had spent an awful long time in Liam’s cutting room these past days, he could only suspect the worst.
“Would have to be a massive present to make up for all of this senseless socializing,” Louis growled under his breath, taking another sip of his drink.
“It might evoke some inner resistance, sure. But have you ever considered that mingling with other people might be beneficial to your inner balance? Might even prevent you from getting weirder than you already are,” Niall mused, grinning broadly when Louis shot him a warning glare.
“Just to inform you about my inner balance. I have considered tying you up somewhere in the basement so you would stop making my life insufferable. Enough times, in fact, to not feel reluctant about it anymore,” Louis informed him, emptying the rest of his glass before nodding at Liam, who handed him another.
“Kinky, Mister Grey,” Niall teased, laughing when Louis bared his teeth in a half-hearted attempt to show annoyance. “Should I start checking whether Harry makes it out of the building at the end of the night if you have ideas like that?”
It was clearly nothing more than a joke, yet Niall’s comment threw Louis off, the back of his neck heating up from more than just the alcohol. Before he could come up with a retort, someone called Niall’s name from across the room, pulling him away and breaking up their conversation.
When Liam stepped closer to him, Louis felt an unexpected wave of relief. Despite not interacting regularly, Liam counted among Louis’ closest contacts within the firm, as their shared lunch breaks and the small, between-meeting chats had always been nothing but pleasant. And from what Louis had noticed over the past weeks, Liam and Niall had been spending more time together, too, probably thanks to the month-long filming marathon of their current TV project, meaning that their overall bond must have grown tighter.
“What a surprise to see you here,” Liam observed, sounding genuinely pleased as he pointed out the unusual sight of Louis at an event like this.
“Thought a bit of networking wouldn’t hurt at the end of the year, right?” Louis offered as a passable explanation, unsure whether he sounded every bit as unconvinced as he felt. Liam gave him a questioning look, amusement clear in his expression.
“Niall forced you, didn’t he?”
Despite the small jolt of surprise that Liam seemed to know him well enough to understand their dynamic, Louis couldn’t help but chuckle.
“That obvious?” he asked, laughing when Liam nodded without a hint of polite denial, before letting himself sink into the easy small talk that followed. They chatted about work and holiday plans until Louis’ second glass was empty and his thoughts had calmed down significantly.
“I’ll head to the bar and get something. Would you like to join me, or are you waiting for Niall to resurface from his current circle?” Liam asked just as Louis was contemplating getting another drink, both of them glancing toward Niall, who, surrounded by coworkers, was deeply engaged in conversation.
It was an easy decision to make, the choice between socializing with a group of loud extroverts or getting more of the only thing that could make the evening remotely bearable. So, without any reluctance, Louis followed Liam toward the wooden bar, where Liam ordered a non-alcoholic punch that looked like something teenagers would spike with vodka, while Louis settled on a Negroni that seemed promising enough to solve at least half of his current problems.
There was something soothing about the bittersweet drink settling warmly in his system, making it easier to ignore both Liam’s continuous questions about how Louis was doing and the overwhelming mass of people accompanied by the loud Christmas music blasting from above.
Almost soothing enough not to make Louis’ pulse spike when he finally noticed that the room around them was breaking into whispers over the front doors that had opened.
It was impressive how, even after a year of working on the project, the arrival of their future TV stars sent a ripple through the room. A sensible tension. One, that Brandon Coleman seemed to revel in as he surveyed the space, flashing a confident grin as though this were his own afterparty rather than an event where he was simply a guest.
He looked overdressed in his perfectly fitted suit, and Louis quietly thanked Niall for insisting on a casual dress code as he watched the new group enter and make their way through the crowd.
It took Louis a moment to pick out the one person he’d been searching for, unable to hide the small smile that naturally lifted his mouth as he took in Harry’s outfit, the loose green jumper making him look nothing like the overhyped love interest he was about to become the moment filming started. He stuck close to his management’s side, appearing just as uncomfortable as Louis had felt upon arriving. If Louis hadn’t already known him, he would have easily mistaken Harry for a member of the crew, as nothing about him hinted at the fact that he would soon be the centerpiece of one of the firm’s biggest productions.
While more curious people pressed themselves into Louis’ field of vision, Harry scanned the room as if searching for someone specific, and Louis found himself wondering, unhelpfully, whether it was him he was looking for.
Before their eyes could meet, though, Harry was pushed further along as the group steered him toward Niall and his team, naturally gravitating to the people they already knew.
Instead of trying to track Harry’s movements across the room, Louis forced himself back into conversation with Liam, letting the distraction work while he did his best not to overthink his own presence and what it meant.
Because Liam truly was good company, it went better than expected. By the time Liam sought out one of his colleagues and drifted away, leaving Louis at the bar, the mixture of comfortable conversation and alcohol had worked wonders on Louis’ nerves.
He was mid-sip of his gin when a familiar voice behind him cut through his thoughts.
“Is not wearing your lawyer suits already considered an undercover outfit?” Harry asked, without any preamble, close enough to Louis’ ear to make him jolt.
Louis nearly choked on his drink, whipping around quickly enough to feel a sluggish dizziness, staring into expectant green eyes shimmering with mischief. Somehow, the dissonance between Harry’s usual shyness and the boldness he slipped into around Louis made Louis’ head tilt into a kind of quiet chaos. He couldn’t help but adore the excitement radiating off Harry, those moments when something reckless broke through his careful, soft-spoken demeanor.
“Thought I’d give people the illusion I’m not here to negotiate their soul away. I might steal the spotlight from your campaign as a Christmas elf, though,” Louis returned, raising a brow in provocation, barely suppressing his amusement at the brightness that lit up Harry’s face.
His green jumper certainly wasn’t helping the elf comparison, Louis noted privately.
“Are you insulting one of your most precious clients?” Harry gasped exaggeratedly, clutching a hand to his chest.
“Not that I’m aware of. Last time I checked, it was only you.”
Harry snorted in a way that would have been unattractive on anyone else, yet did little to his radiating presence. The honest reaction making him look almost carefree. Despite the room full of important figures around them, Harry’s focus stayed locked on Louis, forming something strangely private within the air of publicity.
Somewhere not too far away, a camera flashed. Louis couldn’t have cared less. Not when, in a room full of people gagging for Harry to notice them, his eyes not once strayed.
As Louis was still busy ignoring the fuzzy feeling that accompanied that thought, Harry seemed to strive to keep their light banter going.
“So, if it’s not for judging your clients, what are you doing here, then?” He wondered after a moment, the casual edge not quite masking the interest beneath. “Didn’t think these things were your scene. Too many informal social interactions. Not enough contracts and legal terms.”
It was impressive how good Harry was at pretending he hadn’t known Louis would be there too. Louis smirked, turning slightly so their shoulders brushed as he leaned one arm on the bar. He noticed instantly that the position was far from comfortable, yet found it too embarrassing to adjust again. He had no reason to pretend to be cool. But still tried a bit harder than usual to come across as chill.
“I was dragged. Forced to attend so I don’t get angry emails for the next three weeks,” Louis answered easily and somewhat truthfully, sparing the detail of who exactly had been the prime reason he’d shown up.
“So was I,” Harry replied, equal parts sulkiness and humor. Louis couldn’t help but grin.
“Wasn’t hard to figure out. Neither of us was good at pretending anything else. Though I like to think I have a better chance of disappearing in a crowd. It’s not like anyone would really pay attention to me,” Louis said, hinting at their differences of Harry being unmistakably recognizable, while Louis was anything but.
Whether Harry missed the implication or simply didn’t think before speaking was unclear.
“Well, you did a terrible job at disappearing. I noticed you the second I walked in,” he contradicted without hesitation, as if it were nothing more than an easy observation. Yet the statement sent Louis’ pulse into a sprint at the thought that Harry might have scanned the room that thoroughly before just to find him.
Louis opened his mouth, then shut it again. He wanted to joke, wanted to tease, but his voice stuck. He had to clear his throat before anything came out.
“Maybe you were simply too focused on finding me,” he suggested, trying to ease the moment, which, somehow, had grown more tense. He only meant to tease, but knew immediately he’d been unsuccessful when he caught Harry’s thoughtful expression, those green eyes fixed on him with startling directness.
“Maybe I was,” Harry admitted softly, offering the truth with no attempt to hide it.
With Niall or Liam or anyone else from the firm, Louis would’ve dismissed a line like that as casual conversation. But between him and Harry, the underlying sentiment carried something else. Something unspoken, something he wasn’t sure either of them was prepared to name.
Harry noticed Louis’ look and bit his lower lip, cheeks warming faintly under the dim lights, as if the meaning of his own words caught up with him only afterwards.
“I’m not a creep, right?” Harry rushed out, apparently unable to decide between saying something or keeping his mouth shut. Despite the sudden weirdness between them, Louis couldn’t help grinning at the wide-eyed expression he was being given.
“Said every creep ever,” he joked, relieved when Harry understood he didn’t mean it at all and mirrored his expression, though the slight redness in his cheeks lingered. “I’d say you could blame it on the alcohol, but you haven’t even gotten a drink,” Louis observed, acutely aware of the difference in their intoxication levels and briefly wondering whether getting Harry to join him in mild inebriation would help or push them even further onto the tightrope they were already walking. As it was, Louis’ slight dizziness wasn’t making balance any easier. Still, he politely offered to get Harry something and felt oddly relieved when his awkward conversation partner asked for a non-alcoholic drink.
Harry stepped a few meters aside towards one of the standing tables.
With his view no longer filled by green eyes and that unrelenting attention, Louis finally allowed himself to exhale, loosening his tense jaw as he steered himself toward the service side.
Chapter 13: December 11th: Where Darkness Softens
Notes:
I honestly forgot about the intensity of this chapter and sat here, proofreading it again, wondering which alternate ego of mine had written this.
I think you'll enjoy it :))
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Louis made his way back to where he had left Harry, a refill of his Negroni and a glass of non-alcoholic white punch balanced carefully in his hands as he steered toward their secluded table. Or at least tried to, as he came to a halt midway, the moment he realized that his path had been blocked by a rather large camera team that had managed to build a circle around Harry in the few minutes they had been separated.
It wasn’t the equipment they usually used for informal events. This was the professional set-up. The kind that meant the photos would be online the second their cast was published and would end up framed, edited, and dissected in more ways than could seem possible. And Louis, as per usual, remained in the shadows around. Excluded from a spotlight he had no place being in.
So he stayed back, keeping a distance that let him observe without slipping into any shot, watching as Harry was positioned between people, Brandon Coleman landing right beside him. They made a strange pair, Louis thought. Mismatched in appearance, posture, energy. An awkwardness that the photos would inevitably capture, no matter how many times the camera crew encouraged them to “look natural.”
And still, however unsympathetic and arrogant Brandon Coleman acted towards the crew, he was, at least on paper, a far better fit for Harry’s social circle than Louis could ever pretend to be. Brandon had the background, the publicity, and the kind of life that naturally matched Harry’s. They were both used to limelight, to interviews, to being admired and seen. They would have stories Louis couldn’t compete with. Shared experiences full of adrenaline and spectacle, far more captivating than anything Louis had to offer from a life of writing contracts, managing crises, and working himself into chronic overtime.
The thought made it difficult to maintain an effortless posture while watching the entire orchestrated process of people being arranged like props, angles being tested, and moments being engineered to appear spontaneous.
Just before the three cameras began firing, Harry’s head turned. His gaze cut straight through the bustle, landing firmly on Louis.
“Sorry,” Harry mouthed, as if any of this could possibly be his fault. The remorse on his face softened into amusement when Louis raised his glass in a mock toast.
Louis couldn’t help returning the smile, small, helplessly fond, fully aware that Harry’s reaction was caught on camera as flashes lit up his features.
Harry appeared calmer now, as if the quick glances he stole at Louis between shots were enough to tether him. He didn’t look like he genuinely enjoyed the attention, but he looked steady. At ease enough to endure it.
When the camera crew finally began wrapping up, Harry slipped out of the circle of posed grins and polite small talk with surprising dedication, weaving his way back toward Louis with a charm that didn’t quite hide the impatience beneath. The professional camera still trailed after him, though at a more respectful distance now that they had secured the essential shots. Louis was almost positive that he himself ended up in a few frames as well, somewhere in the background of pictures of Harry. But he doubted anyone would find those interesting enough to publish.
“I believe this belongs to you,” Louis uttered, lifting the glass of white punch as Harry approached. Harry’s answering grin was immediate and grateful as he took the drink, their hands brushing in the exchange. “I’m not sure you’ll like it, though. It looks nothing like punch. The barman was going a bit overboard with Post-Christmas specials,” Louis added, watching Harry bring the glass up to sniff the suspiciously pale liquid.
“As long as it tastes like the original, I’ll be open to endure whatever this color is,” Harry declared, inspecting the milky drink with theatrical seriousness before closing his eyes and taking a sip.
A few seconds passed. Harry stayed perfectly still, face blank with exaggerated contemplation. When he refocused on Louis, he kept the solemn expression, though the spark in his eyes gave him away entirely. “This should be considered a crime against the name of Christmas punch,” he whispered, low and dramatic, as though he had borne witness to something unspeakable.
He licked his lips, and Louis’s attention snagged there, held for a beat too long.
When Louis dragged his gaze back up to Harry’s eyes, he found them already fixed on him, watchful, searching, carrying something different from the light teasing of a moment ago. Something careful. Something curious. A faint blush colored Harry’s cheeks, and he caught his lower lip between his teeth, almost deliberately, as if inviting Louis’s gaze to drop again.
It would have probably had the exact same effect as before, had they not been interrupted by someone joining the quiet space they had carved out for themselves.
“Am I crashing your private party with the staff here?” Brandon Coleman asked, voice louder and harsher than necessary, his attention glued solely to Harry as if Louis barely registered as a human presence. There was a coldness clinging to the man, an abrasive edge that made Louis recoil internally. Still, he forced on a professional smile, determined to interact only for as long as politeness absolutely demanded. Hopefully, Brandon would get bored by them quickly. Or, well, hopefully Harry would react to him that way.
“I was actually having a private conversation with someone from our team,” Harry retorted, his voice tighter than before, his words overly pronounced. Brandon flicked a glance at Louis, brief, appraising, dismissive, as if he were evaluating whether speaking to staff was worth the effort for once.
Apparently, it wasn’t.
“Shouldn’t you be having a bit more fun tonight, man?” Brandon asked, nudging Harry’s arm with faux camaraderie. “There are a few girls here who’d be very open to… getting in contact with us. And things with the show are getting real faster than you’d realize. So it’s all about enjoying the freedom while we still have it.”
Whatever Brandon’s definition of fun was, it clearly involved trouble. And a severe lack of character.
Harry turned to Louis with an expression that seemed to convey exactly what Louis was thinking. Which were things that should be left unsaid. So Louis simply shrugged in reply, taking an extra-long sip of his drink, as he rolled his eyes over the rim of his glass where only Harry would see.
“I think I’m having a great time, actually,” Harry countered, voice calm. “So I’m not sure what exactly I’m supposed to do differently here.”
Brandon didn’t seem to get the hint.
“All I’m saying is that you’re wasting your shot,” he insisted, flashing a grin that somehow made his eyes colder. “You’re the main event, Styles. You could have your pick tonight. I’m sure the interns or some of the assistants wouldn’t say no. Don’t you think they’d kill to say they got a rather hot preview of the stars before the season even aired? Easy on the eyes, easier in your bed.”
And there it was. Brandon’s intentions, stripped of subtlety.
Louis felt his stomach twist with disgust.
Harry, meanwhile, blinked in stunned silence, shock flickering across his features as if he genuinely couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
“That’s… not what I was thinking about,” he said slowly, confusion replacing the lightness he had worn so easily moments before.
Brandon raised his eyebrows like that response was somehow ridiculous. “It’s not about thinking,” he said. “It’s about taking what’s on offer. Nothing wrong with using your position to have a bit of fun.”
Louis leaned back slightly, angling his arm nearer to Harry as he regarded Brandon with a neutral expression that brushed the edges of unimpressed.
“You seem to have a lot of opinions about how Harry should use his time,” Louis observed, tone mild but undeniably pointed.
Brandon turned to him fully then, annoyance tightening his jaw. “Who were you again?” he asked, apparently unable, or unwilling, to remember the interaction they had had barely weeks ago.
“Part of the legal department,” Louis replied curtly, uninterested in repeating his name. It wasn’t worth the breath.
Brandon dismissed him with a glance. “Legal department with drinks? Must be a fun firm.”
The jab was unnecessary, especially given that they were at an official work event. Louis supressed a snort.
“I’m actually allowed to have a drink after work,” he returned dryly. “Being staff doesn’t come with a curfew. Perks of a real job, you know?”
This time, Brandon really looked at him, squinting as if trying to determine whether Louis had just insulted him. When Louis met his stare with absolute disinterest, Brandon clenched his jaw hard enough to show his teeth, a mirror of animalistic hostility.
The stare-down reminded Louis of fights in primary school. Back when neither he nor his opponent had developed enough vocabulary to argue properly, so they just glared until someone gave up.
Maybe it was the case currently, as Brandon kept staring for a few seconds and then switched back to Harry as if Louis had never existed.
“I just think it’d be a shame not to take advantage of the perks this production brings us,” he said, swirling the amber liquid of his drink lazily. “That’s why I make full use of my options.”
Louis knew he shouldn’t bite. He really shouldn’t. But Brandon’s smug tone was begging for it, and the scrap of gossip Niall had let slip over the weeks itched at the back of Louis’ mind. Memories of Niall telling him about the women Brandon was leading on without the tiniest bit of empathy or conscience.
“Wasn’t it you who had someone at home already? I would have expected you to use that option while you still have it?”
It wouldn’t have been a surprise if Louis had earned himself a punch for this question. Yet, instead of making a scene, Brandon simply rolled his eyes and huffed out dismissively.
“You might not have heard that part from whoever’s been flapping their mouth about my private life, but I have ended things days ago. And while the bitch is trying every dirty trick she can to get back what she so desperately wants, I have redirected my focus like I was intended to do from the very first moment. Some of us men can’t be tied down that easily.”
Louis knew that whatever breakup story the woman would go public with wouldn’t be enough to ruin Brandon’s reputation once he would be starring in a country-wide watched show. Her words would get washed away in perfectly constructed waves of positive news, and if she wasn’t careful enough, Brandon’s team would destroy her until she had lost everything. It was disgusting to think about this side of public influence, and Louis couldn’t help but take another swig of his drink to keep down whatever stupid thing he wanted to say.
Creating a comical effect, Brandon downed his own drink in one go at the same time, as if using it as a show of superiority towards Louis, before lowering his voice. “So, Styles. I’ve got two girls from public affairs waiting over there. Both seem keen. I wouldn’t mind sharing, if you’re up for it.”
It was so openly disgusting that Louis didn’t even hold back on his snort. “How generous of you,” he muttered under his breath for only Harry to hear, before he turned his upper body away to avoid any association with the conversation. Making it clear that he was not interested in hearing anything else Brandon was saying.
In another position, Harry would have probably done the same, Louis contemplated. If it hadn’t been his co-star that he would have to spend an awful lot of time with him in the near future.
Because Harry would never do anything like that, right? Would never be interested in a meaningless hook-up. Right?
Before he could stop himself, Louis’ mind jumped ahead, unhelpfully. Harry, getting intimate with someone just because he could? It felt impossible. Not with how considerate he’d been these past weeks, how careful. Louis couldn’t imagine him taking advantage of anyone.
While Louis couldn’t put his finger on the reason Harry let Brandon speak to him like that when Harry was clearly more famous and influential, he could sense the tension simmering under Harry’s stillness, coiling tighter with every passing minute.
“I think I’m good,” Harry declined quietly, pressing close enough against Louis’ side to convey his body warmth. Relief pricked sharp and fast under Louis’ skin, unreasonable in its intensity.
“Well. Then suit yourself,” Brandon snapped, not bothering with saying anything else before making his way back into the crowd.
When Louis dared a sideways glance, Harry’s face was tense, and Louis could see the tightness in his posture that had been looser when it had just been the two of them. He didn’t break the silence as the two of them watched Brandon head toward a group of young women who were probably the ones he had tried to get Harry in contact with. Their excited, innocent expressions leaving a bitter taste on Louis’ tongue.
“I don’t know what bothers me more,” Harry said eventually, “the fact that he assumes it’s his business to offer women to me like they are nothing but a tool for some fun or the fact he thought that I’d be interested…”
Under other circumstances, Louis would have laughed it off as a simple dick move from a person neither of them should care about. Yet Harry seemed actually affected. So instead of finding a meaningless reply, he waited for Harry to either meet his eyes or say more. Which appeared to be the right decision.
“Not everybody in our scene is like that,” Harry insisted, sounding almost desperate to make Louis understand.
“I hope so,” Louis replied, trying to keep himself in check.
God, he could barely resist his urge to go after every single person that could dare to assume Harry would ever exploit his fame in such a way.
“I am not like that,” Harry added, stating the obvious. Louis wanted him so badly to feel seen.
“I know, honey,” he soothed without noticing the pet name that slipped out instead of Harry’s name until it was too late, „I know“.
Judging from the faint blush that flitted across Harry’s face, he didn’t seem offended, although his eyes scanned over Louis’ face for a bit longer than would have been normal. Almost as if trying to read the meaning of it.
Damn the alcohol that had messed up half of Louis’ brain.
“And I really hate parties,” Harry stated desperately, somewhat out of the blue, clearly not wanting to discuss the topic any longer. He was staring at Louis as if he saw him as the only person strong enough to do something about that.
“Me too,” Louis agreed easily, letting his gaze sweep across the groups of people laughing along, clearly enjoying the party. He and Harry probably looked like sulking mood killers to anyone who might have shown interest in a conversation with them.
Harry inhaled audibly.
“I want to get out of here,” he admitted.
And oh.
The aspect of Harry leaving so soon made Louis sadder than he had expected. He forced himself not to show his real reaction, focus still trained on the crowd.
“Your duty of taking photos is already done. I would understand if you wanted to go home,” he voiced matter-of-factly, not feeling like he was in a position to pressure Harry into staying at a party he had never wanted to attend.
When no reply came, he found Harry’s eyes already trained on him. Indecisive. Weighing something.
“I just thought—” Harry began, pausing as he collected himself before rushing out the rest. “That you might want to get out of here, too. And your office’s just upstairs, right? So maybe we could just hang out there and well… talk.”
It felt like he left a part of his thought unsaid. Not that the most important aspect hadn’t already been verbalized.
The deep blush creeping up Harry’s neck probably matched the warmth spreading over Louis’ face.
This was more than he had expected from the evening. But exactly what he needed.
“Yeah, sure. It’s a lot quieter upstairs. Easier to have a conversation,” Louis affirmed.
“You want that, too, right?” Harry asked, sounding insecure as he stared into his drink a bit too intently. As if the roles had been reversed, and it was Louis who held the power. For a celebrity, Harry was really not confident enough, Louis thought, but didn’t dare to say out loud.
“It would be a pleasure,” Louis insisted, wincing internally at how formal he sounded. Too much like a lawyer.
He didn’t get the chance to overthink it, though. Because the words hung between them for barely a second before Harry snapped into momentum, and then they were moving.
No further discussion. Apart from whispered instructions about back doors and routes. And then it was just the two of them slipping into the current of the party with the silent, reckless agreement that they were doing this.
It worked effortlessly. And sooner than expected, they stood outside the hall, leaving the crowd behind them.
They exchanged the smallest nod, then moved in sync, crossing the dim back corridor and slipping into the service lift, the screeching metallic slide of the doors closing far too dramatic for something so wonderfully stupid.
As soon as the doors closed, Louis turned toward Harry, unable to hide his amusement when he met Harry’s bright grin.
“I have never sneaked out of an event like this,” Harry confessed, sounding excited and happy and carefree and young. He looked gorgeous, Louis thought, taking in the unguarded joy that radiated off him as he nearly bounced on his feet.
“That’s the ruthless spirit that comes with us lawyers,” Louis teased, feeling his stomach swoop a bit more than usual when the elevator started moving, while Harry’s laugh sounded a lot like unsuppressed giggles.
Something felt different about tonight. More than just Harry coming up to Louis’ office this late. It was the way Louis suddenly felt hyperaware of everything he had grown used to. The darkness stretching ahead and behind them in the barely lit hallway, the silence untouched by footsteps or murmured voices. Just complete stillness.
Like nothing moved or changed or dared to be alive here.
Only now, guiding Harry, who was radiating in the gloomy atmosphere, along, did he realise how much liveliness had been missing from this place and how used he had become to the absence of it.
And the more Harry filled the space with soft laughs and excited breaths and his sheer presence,
the more Louis feared what the lack of it would feel like.
Notes:
I reeeeally hope you guys had a good time reading this...
Also. Get out your comfort blankets for tomorrow
Chapter 14: December 12th: Drowning in black blood
Chapter Text
Things were coming to an end, Louis realized, as they made their way towards his office.
Their post-Christmas party was the culmination of months of planning and working together. No more meetings, no contract discussions, no knowing glances. The new year would mark the beginning of the filming phase, which would take place far away from where Louis was.
And in case Harry ever reentered their company, it would be with a woman by his side. That was the goal of the whole show after all.
He would be completely out of reach, and it would never change back to this weird time where his and Louis’ lives had been tightly intertwined. Despite the meaninglessness of most of their interactions, Louis couldn’t bear the thought that this moment, where it was just the two of them, would be the last one ever.
He didn’t want to feel insignificant, but he was nothing more than a lawyer. Harry would forget about his existence within a blink and Louis couldn’t shake the truth that his life was simply not worth being remembered in comparison to what a star like Harry would get to see.
Maybe it was the alcohol that made Louis that thoughtful. As he dared a glance at Harry, there was not a hint of sadness visible in Harry’s face. Instead, Louis was met with an excited smile.
„It’s almost scary how quiet it is up here,“ Harry observed, as Louis unlocked his office.
„It’s usually like this,“ Louis offered, not sure what to answer but not wanting to stay silent either, as he considered which lights to switch on in the dark room since all of them seemed way too harsh for the fragility of the moment.
„Leave the lights off, I quite enjoy it like this,“ Harry requested, pausing to slip into the office right behind Louis. „Although I can’t decide if it’s peaceful, or almost unbearably lonely.“
Well. Louis could have found an answer to that. Yet he shrugged, surveying his barely lit office and trying to decide how he could entertain Harry with how little he could offer.
Before he was able to find a solution, Harry stepped to the glass front, staring out into the night, his face mirrored faintly in the pane, illuminated by nothing more than the glow from the street below. Louis remained frozen in place for a few seconds, simply taking in the picture. Desperate to burn the memory into the back of his mind.
It was Harry’s voice that shook him from losing himself in it.
„Is that bright light back there the bank building?“ Harry inquired, forcing Louis to cross the room and come up next to him, tracing the direction of Harry’s gesture.
„The blue one? Yes. It’s primarily stock market, though.“
Harry nodded, peering at it more intently. „There are still people working right now? The lights are on in a few rooms,“ he observed. Louis could do nothing but remain right next to him.
„They have this trading floor on the lower levels that never technically shuts down. At night you sometimes catch a few windows still lit because the international desks work on different time zones,“ Louis explained, gaze trained outside while he felt Harry’s attention flick toward him.
„Do you know anything about the building next to it?“ Harry wondered, after a few more seconds of quiet observing.
Louis hummed.
„The yellow star next to it is the sign of a car company that specializes in replacement parts for heavy-duty vehicles. They light the star differently depending on current research, apparently. Which is probably due to the electric distribution within the building. The tower’s actually built with a double-skin facade to insulate the testing labs. They run engines in there at night sometimes. It’s conspired that the star turns yellow when its labs are active and white when the machines are down. Most people never notice, but the investor district treats it like a forecast for its market value,“ he explained, weirdly proud when Harry made a soft sound of amazement.
Standing inside a dark office and talking about old business history should have felt strange. Yet Harry kept pointing at various buildings and listened to whatever information Louis could share about them, leaning in close enough to slowly diminish the space between their bodies.
No matter how boring it probably was to get an overview of random companies, Harry kept going at it, requesting more firm names and occupations, almost as if he was afraid Louis would stop talking and ask him to leave the second this was over.
They managed to go through nearly every spot that was visible from up high, bringing Louis to share facts he had never considered interesting enough to ever tell anybody else.
„You know a lot,“ Harry noted, sounding genuinely impressed as if Louis had told him something far more remarkable. Given that Harry’s normal life entailed masses of important people, Louis couldn’t help but wonder how he wasn’t bored yet.
„Mostly just stuff that no one wants to hear about,“ Louis joked half-heartedly, slightly embarrassed for not having anything else to say. Not that Harry seemed to care, as he angled his head a little to smile at Louis.
„But I do.“
It was such a simple statement, and yet it overwhelmed Louis a bit. So he just forced himself to mirror the expression Harry was showing him instead of giving in to the slightly anxious feeling tightening his muscles. Harry’s eyes were on Louis as he leaned his cheek against the glass, turning away from the skyline he had been so curious about before. The movement brought their faces closer together. Louis noticed when he searched for Harry’s awaiting gaze. Neither of them shifted back.
Despite not being one to show much interest in art, Louis felt like he couldn’t ignore the involuntary beauty that came with the scene. Harry’s features were illuminated by the faint lights that reflected in the window, face unguarded, warm breath drawing the smallest patterns against the cold surface.
Harry’s smile was softer than ever before.
„I enjoy this here much more than any party this world could offer,“ Harry admitted quietly, eyes fixed only on Louis, voice barely above a whisper and drenched in honest amazement.
Louis felt his own heartbeat rise into his throat.
„Me too,“ he confessed, swallowing hard in an effort to push his nerves back down under the surface of his self-control. The attempt failed.
He tried, a bit pathetically, to righten his suit jacket like he usually did before performing at meetings. Yet, as his hands wandered to the place where he normally found his pockets, he was reminded that he was wearing his sweater. That he wasn’t dressed as a lawyer. That right now, he couldn’t hide behind his work persona.
It terrified him. Because right in this moment, far away from any witnesses, any bosses, any expectations, he was forced to be nothing but himself.
And he himself suddenly could no longer suppress the thought of seeing Harry as something else than a simple means to an end. This was not part of a business conversation or a thoughtful way of networking. This was the urge to be close to someone, despite who they were.
But fuck. Louis had no idea what to do.
The only thing he knew was that this was their last time. That this would be the final moment Harry’s focus would be on him and not anyone else. There would be no quick talks, no running off and hiding away. Louis would be back to the quietness of his own life. Would exchange the peacefulness for the unbearable loneliness.
He tried to take a breath, but the unspoken words were choking him.
„What’s wrong?“ Harry asked, apparently noticing whatever tension had settled within Louis.
They were just so close.
Harry tilted his head, studying Louis with a patient carefulness that made it impossible for him to conceal whatever was twisting inside his chest. Harry’s question hung between them, soft but persistent.
There was no way that he could have overplayed the significance. Louis shook his head lightly, offering a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing. I just…” His voice trailed off, and for a second, he almost let it go. Almost let the moment dissolve like breath against glass.
And then Harry’s hand brushed against the side of his sweater, light, almost accidental, but enough for his warmth to seep through, fingers remaining on the thin material.
They hadn’t really touched before. Louis died just a little bit. Then he forced out a reply.
“I was just thinking…” He shifted his attention toward the skyline as if it could grant him clarity, then returned to Harry. „This is the last time we’ll see each other. Before you take off and live this whole surreal TV life at the other end of the continent.“
The forced-out laugh he added only made the observation more pathetic. He should have known.
Yet instead of making fun of the way Louis was stumbling over his own weird emotions, Harry stayed quiet. His fingers curled around Louis’ arm, sinking deeper into the material of his sweater, almost as if he was keeping him exactly where he was.
Harry seemed different. The softness had been replaced by an expression that Louis, for the life of him, couldn’t categorize. It could have been fear, could have been overwhelm, could have been longing. He didn’t dare ask.
When Harry still didn’t speak, Louis broke the quietness once again, unable to bear it any longer.
„I’ll miss our conversations, you know? It will be weird not to be interrupted in my work every other day,“ Louis admitted, joking but not joking. Sounding honest, but not honest enough to reveal the depth of everything he was holding back. Harry took a shaky breath.
„I liked seeing you, too. Liked interrupting your days.“
There was a reluctance woven into Harry’s tone, as if he wasn’t sure where the conversation was heading and was desperately trying to keep control over it.
Why exactly, Louis couldn’t tell. But he sensed the duality between Harry’s cautious voice and the way his body seemed to be subconsciously pulling him closer.
Small bright reflections from outside drifted over Harry’s iris. Louis caught himself studying them longer than was reasonable.
He cleared his throat, searching for something—anything—that would keep Harry here with him, in this quiet corner of the night, just a little longer.
“You know,“ he began casually, carefully pulling together the courage to finally say what had been circling his mind, „we could keep in touch.”
Harry’s head tilted, not suspicious exactly, but alert. “Keep in touch?”
Louis gave a small shrug, despite his pulse speeding up.
“Yeah. I just thought that, well. We could still text sometime? Send a picture now and then. You know? Proof that you’re surviving whatever ridiculous TV chaos you’ve signed up for.” He laughed awkwardly.
For a beat, Harry just stayed there, showing no reaction, hand still wrapped around Louis’ arm. Then he pulled it back like he had been burned.
„I haven’t thought about that.“ Harry’s gaze dropped to his own hand that had been connected to Louis mere seconds before. Staring at it as if he couldn’t believe it was part of his own body.
Louis should have stopped. Should have thought it through. Should have taken a moment to understand what was going wrong.
Still, with sudden embarrassment infiltrating his mind, Louis rushed into whatever plan he thought was best to follow along instead of slowing down for once. He was simply too sure that this was nothing more than a misunderstanding. That Harry didn’t want this to be their end.
„It could be fun, right? To get a few updates from each other. Or to have someone to talk to in case anything comes up.“
He sounded like a sales rep trying to sell an idea that was worth nothing.
Harry’s brows drew together, just slightly.
“I don’t text with people that much,” he stated quietly, shuffling his shoes before glancing toward the door as if to verify that the room still had an exit. “It’s nothing personal. I’m just not really used to giving out my number.”
Louis nodded once, too forcefully, too surprised by the sudden reluctance to function properly. Talking had flowed so easily before this moment had introduced something into their dynamic that Louis simply couldn’t grasp. Harry had given him so many signals before. He simply wanted to believe that they both felt the same pull. That Harry’s reaction was a result of shyness rather than reluctance.
Louis tried to lighten the atmosphere, to remove whatever heavy weight seemed to have settled over them.
„It’s alright. I just thought… I could be a first?“ Louis offered gently, smiling and expecting Harry to mirror his attempt at dissolving the tension. Because even then, they could have saved this situation.
But things went differently.
„I don’t do that with strangers,“ Harry cut into whatever train of thought Louis had had, voice suddenly harsh.
The coldness from outside seeped into the air between them as Harry’s jaw tightened.
When Louis searched for his gaze, there was nothing familiar left in Harry’s face. Louis felt like he had been caught blindsided, the alcohol in his blood making him dizzy. Making him speak, although he should have known it would only worsen things.
„We are not— We are not strangers,“ Louis defended himself, horrified at how it came out, as if he had just proposed something outrageous.
Harry didn’t even blink. His body had turned rigid. His whole posture changed as if Louis had just insulted him.
Louis knew he had messed up before Harry even spoke, and still got hit full force.
“Then maybe you’ve mistaken this for something it’s not.”
And if the words before had been sharp, these carved the deepest cut.
Louis couldn’t keep his mouth from dropping open, shocked at the hurtfulness that didn’t seem accidental. All of the fears that had haunted Louis for the past weeks. The feeling of not being good enough, special enough, worthy enough of Harry’s attention. They came crashing down. Louis felt like he was a breath away from collapsing.
„What do you mean?“ he asked, dumbfounded, not able to believe what he was witnessing.
Harry stared at him for a long moment, his dark eyes holding Louis’ as if he were searching for something within them, and then found his answer before replying once again.
„All I did, Louis, was interact with you on a professional level. I never meant to insinuate anything else.“ Harry sounded like he almost choked on his own words, but forced them out nonetheless. „You’re just a crew member to me. Nothing more.“
It hit like a slap. And Louis stumbled back.
Whatever hopeful ending he had imagined was shattered like glass under pressure.
Louis gave his best to swallow down the bitterness that Harry’s words left, barely able to keep his hurt inside.
“You’re acting like I was nothing but a convenient tool.” Louis’ attempt at remaining rational didn’t hide his bewilderment as he continued to wait for Harry to understand that they were just hurting each other by accident. By miscommunication.
A second of silence. Maybe Harry’s face was expressionless. Or maybe it carried every emotion at once. Louis couldn’t look at him. Which was for the best.
„Cause you were,“ Harry confirmed, making it all sound so obvious by the way he put it.
Louis could no longer bear the sight of Harry, his skin crawling at the closeness he had allowed before. Louis’s mind began functioning on autopilot, his defenses drawing higher. A lump started forming in his throat that made him want to scream.
“I think I should go,” Harry stated, offering no explanation, no apology.
They could have left it at that. Could have ended this conversation, this fight. But Louis acted on instinct.
„Go where?“ he inquired, as if the information could have changed anything.
For a moment, it almost seemed like Harry’s mask of apathy was about to slip. Like finding an answer to Louis’ question was accompanied by too much emotion to keep hidden inside.
Almost.
„My team and Brandon are probably waiting for me.“
Louis didn’t recognize the person in front of him.
„You care about getting back to Brandon?“ he echoed, unable to believe that Harry had managed to even make that statement.
„Those are the people I should surround myself with and you should know that.“
Harry’s voice sounded almost mechanical. Louis would have wanted to scream, hadn’t he already felt seconds away from choking.
„So this is it?“ Louis wondered quietly, as if he actually needed to check again. „After weeks of giving me the feeling that you actually enjoyed spending time with me, you’re acting like this and then just go?“
Louis was fully aware he was crossing lines and playing a dangerous game. In the end, Harry held all the power. Something Louis should have thought about long before.
Harry didn’t react to the provocation. Instead, he moved toward the door, stepping out of Louis’ direct view as Louis turned toward the city stretching beneath them.
He would have expected Harry to leave without another word. But he was wrong.
„It is different for me, Louis. You will never understand what my life is like,“ Harry said, his tone devoid of any steady emotion.
There was no point in stabbing back. Yet Louis couldn’t stop himself. He turned, fixing Harry with one last, painful stare.
„You’re probably right. But you know what?“ he asked, voice barely louder than a whisper, yet so loaded with hatred it vibrated through the room.
„For the first time, I understand that you’re not at all unsuitable for the role you’ve been given, Harry. Cause after what I have seen, there is probably no one as similar to Brandon Coleman as you.“
It was irrational to insult him like that when Harry could get him fired with a snap of his fingers. And from the way Louis felt his own shoulders shaking with tension, he knew he resembled nothing more than a wounded dog letting out his final bark.
But somehow, the aimless shot hit exactly where he had meant it to. He watched Harry’s eyes lose all depth at once, something behind them splintering before they glazed over.
There was so much hurt flooding Harry’s expression that Louis wasn’t sure which one of them had truly been defeated.
He wanted to feel better seeing Harry as damaged as he himself was. But instead of any victory, Louis felt pain swell sharply in his chest, aware he had used Harry’s own fears against him.
Louis’ focus dissolved, thoughts scattering, and it only came to a sudden halt when the door fell shut loudly.
The noise echoed through the otherwise completely soundless room.
And suddenly, Louis was more alone than ever before in his life.
Notes:
Honestly, I support any urges to write hateful comments down below. I'll take them. So feel free to share your feelings!
Now that I have sufficiently ruined this innocently soft story, I'll head to bed and stare blankly into the darkness.
Hear from you soon <3
Chapter 15: December 13th: Starless night (Part I)
Notes:
I'm trying my best to upload a second part today as well... I think you might need it.
Love y'all <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The darkness was languidly tinted by the first rays of the sun that couldn’t breach the thick layers of clouds yet. Outside, the streets were slowly growing more crowded, the first rushes of the early business hours tugging life back into the public spaces that had been deserted mere hours ago.
The world was moving.
Was moving on.
While Louis wasn’t.
He couldn’t have been asleep for longer than a few minutes at a time. He had drifted in and out of unconsciousness while leaning against the rough wall of his office, the cold floor beneath him not hard enough to steady him, not soft enough to offer comfort.
The slight buzz of the alcohol had worn off. Almost instantly, the second the door had closed behind Harry, the realization of what had happened had begun to settle in Louis’ fogged brain.
He still hadn’t fully understood when exactly everything had gone south. And still, he knew. Just knew with that sharp, nauseating certainty that he had fucked up.
No matter what Harry had said, no matter what he had thrown at him, it shouldn’t have escalated like that. Louis hadn’t had the right to hate Harry for needing distance, for not having the same urgent instinct to stay connected. Louis had acted out of hurt, anger, and pride, and with the prospect that this might have been their last interaction, something that could have been a good memory had twisted into this.
Louis had no right. Yet he felt a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of the way Harry had spoken, how he had made it clear he had never seen Louis as anything other than an assistant. And maybe, without wanting to admit it, Louis hated Harry a little. Maybe because it was the easiest emotion to let his veins fill with.
Louis had fucked up, and he would carry the consequences of his mistake privately, in shame and disgust at himself. But he would move on.
He had to.
Had to let the busy world around him drag him into a routine where Harry was no longer part of it. Just like it had been for all the years before.
Just following the flow, he told himself as he slowly pushed himself up from his slouched position. His body protested the movement, stiffness pulling at his joints. He downed the rest of his water bottle, the cool liquid doing nothing to wash away the heaviness in his chest, then put a gum between his teeth, bracing himself for the walk home as he grabbed his phone and keys from his desk. The plan was simple. Reach his flat, bury himself under the blankets, and pray that he could sleep through whatever nightmare he had stepped into.
There were many ways to cope. Yet there was never a way to truly outrun one's nightmares.
He realized just that the moment he forced himself to leave his office.
It was a Saturday, which should have meant the chance of crossing paths with anyone was nearly zero. He had worked enough weekends to know the floor stayed silent during the weekend. Just dark offices, locked doors, and empty hallways.
But not today.
Even before he fully opened his door, he picked up on the noise. The muffled hum of voices, footsteps where there should’ve been none, the kind of purposeful movement that didn’t belong to a quiet weekend shift.
A wrongness settled in Louis’ gut.
Something was going on.
His pulse climbed, beating up into his throat as he stepped into the corridor. Light spilled out of open offices. Meeting-room windows glowed. Phones were ringing loudly. People were moving with urgency.
Louis felt suddenly exposed.
With a half-focused mind, he checked his phone. A mass of missed calls from Niall stared back at him.
Louis just knew.
Searching for leverage, he grabbed for the door frame, steadying himself. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he would throw up or collapse.
Neither happened.
He just stood there, motionless within the chaotic noise that was surrounding him, his body refusing to give him any escape. And maybe that was way worse.
Without even feeling his legs, he let himself get carried towards the elevators, unable to react to any voice, any person that could possibly call his name. He simply knew that he had to get out. Had to run away from something he couldn’t outrun.
The only noise that managed to get through to him was the lift’s sound as it opened in front of him, bright artificial lights greeting him. Lights, and another person.
Inside stood a woman he faintly recognized. Or at least thought he recognized her as one of the heads of public affairs. He couldn’t trust his eyes. Couldn’t trust his senses, which were instantly going into panic mode at the encounter.
She looked sharp, her expression shifting to irritation when she noticed him lingering.
“Are you getting in?” she asked, staring him down in a way that was even colder than the lamps above her head. Yet, her words were enough to get Louis into action.
Subconscious functioning carried him forward as he stepped inside, pushed the button for the ground floor, and kept his eyes focused on nothingness, praying for God to make him go unnoticed.
A wish, which, after all the things he had done wrong the day before, any higher power from above didn’t seem to grant him.
It took him a second to realize that she was speaking to him at all. Another second until the words actually reached his mind, and he managed to pull his attention away from wherever it had been before.
“Looks like you’ve been up half the night as well,” she observed, her tone more pitying than demeaning as her gaze flicked over his clothes from the night before, lingering on his face a beat too long.
Louis didn’t trust his voice enough to speak. He only nodded, the movement stiff, delayed, as he forced himself to actually look at her, uncertain what she might be reading in his expression. His stomach rolled slightly with the motion of the elevator, and he focused on breathing evenly, grounding himself in the hum beneath his feet.
Only then did he notice the details he had missed at first.
Her outfit was a little too festive for the office, as if it had been chosen for a different kind of event and not yet switched for something more appropriate. Her hair had loosened around her face, strands slipping free from what had probably once been a sleek ponytail. Her makeup was smudged just enough to suggest exhaustion rather than carelessness.
She had been up for hours, too, Louis concluded.
The realization settled slowly, uncomfortably, as she continued speaking without questioning his silence.
“We really appreciate everyone,“ she acknowledged quietly, a kind smile touching her lips,
„who jumped in to help with this extraordinary emergency situation.”
A moment passed before her sentence fully landed and his mind to catch up to what she was actually saying.
Emergency
The word echoed far too loudly in Louis’ head.
His pulse spiked, heat rushing into his chest as his thoughts scattered, grasping for context that wasn’t there. He held himself rigid, afraid that if he moved too suddenly, the panic might become visible.
She was thanking him for being there.
Because she thought he had been working through the night.
Thought that he had helped dealing with whatever massive trouble had arisen.
He tried to force his face to stay neutral, but his muscles tensed too much for it to look like anything but an unwanted muscle spasm.
She didn’t seem to mind.
"It is a bit ironic, isn't it?“ She laughed bitterly, apparently unable to read Louis’ expression for what it actually was. The amusement in her voice sounded rather pained, an unsettling seriousness in her tired eyes that made it clear that something was awfully wrong.
“From taking pictures with our most important show cast to learning that one of them drops out not two hours later. Wasn’t a mess that we would have expected before the filming even started.”
For a fraction of a second, Louis didn’t understand what she meant.
The sentence hovered somewhere above him, detached from meaning, like a foreign language he should have known but couldn’t translate fast enough.
One of them. Dropped out.
The words existed, but they didn’t connect yet, didn’t form something tangible.
Then they did.
He had dropped out.
Louis was too overwhelmed with panic to react, his throat closing up as if his body had decided to shut him down altogether. His lungs convulsed uselessly, head spinning so violently it felt like he might die right there between the elevator walls.
Harry had dropped out.
Louis tried to swallow around the lump in his throat but only managed to choke on it.
Harry had dropped out.
And it was Louis’ fault.
“Dealing with a public scandal like that will be a first experience,” she continued, either not noticing Louis’ reaction or simply voicing the shared sense of dread that now seemed to hang over everything.
Still, Louis knew they would come for him.
Maybe she didn’t know yet. Maybe the fact that he had been the reason for all of this hadn’t travelled through the building so far. But it would. It always did. Sooner rather than later, it would surface.
This was the end. Louis just knew. This was his end.
The elevator doors opened with a ding.
Maybe he replied with some form of goodbye. Maybe he didn’t.
Louis was already rushing out of the building he had grown familiar with, leaning against the first streetlamp he could reach, lowering his head in preparation for throwing up.
He didn’t.
He simply stayed crouched there, arms wrapped around himself, wondering if this was what dying felt like.
When he realized that it wasn’t, it was impossible to tell whether the sensation that followed was relief or something far worse.
The weight of knowing he would have to live through the consequences.
In the palm of his hand, he felt the muted vibration of another call, immediately silenced by his automatic do-not-disturb mode after the first ring.
The knowledge that someone, most likely Niall, was waiting for him to pick up still thrummed through his body.
He should have thought about where to go once he lost his job. Instead, his thoughts fractured into everything and nothing at once, a fleeting mess slipping through his consciousness as he somehow managed to catch a cab and let himself be driven to his flat.
There was no way to truly run from the catastrophe he had caused.
Still, as he fell into his bed fully dressed, he decided that for the next few hours, he could try. Could try to forget who he was and what he had done.
And with that thought, he sank into a state that didn’t quite count as sleep, remaining there until the brighter sky faded back into darkness again.
When his phone wouldn’t stop vibrating, informing him of a flood of missed calls all at once, Louis knew that the moment to face his punishment had arrived.
Maybe, just maybe, there had been the smallest chance that Harry hadn’t mentioned Louis when he stepped down. But Louis remembered the eyes that had tracked him across the room as he left the party.
People would know.
People most likely already knew.
So, with shaking fingers and blurred vision, Louis finally picked up his phone, closing his eyes as he waited for what was to come.
“Louis?” Niall’s distressed voice sounded from the other end of the line, disbelief and panic woven tightly together.
“Yes.” There was not a single emotion left in Louis’ rough reply.
At least it was Niall delivering the news. That felt marginally better. Louis would miss him once this was over.
“Fuck, Louis,” Niall whispered, clearly making sure no one around him could hear. “Where the hell have you been the past hours?”
There was no appropriate answer.
“I was asleep,” Louis said, the words sounding hollow even to himself.
“I—” Niall began, before being interrupted by someone speaking to him. A muted exchange followed, words indistinguishable, until Niall returned.
“Louis, I’m so sorry to tell you this.”
He audibly took a breath, giving Louis a second to brace himself. It wasn’t enough time. It never would have been.
“You probably won’t take this well, but—” Niall started.
“Don’t,” Louis interrupted quietly. “I already know what’s going to happen.”
He had been one of the leading lawyers at the firm. If there was anyone who understood the procedure in cases like this, it was him. He could list every clause he had violated the night before. From breaching private contact rules, inappropriate communication within client interaction, sharing of company-internal knowledge, to compromising a whole TV production.
Getting fired would be the mild outcome. There was still the possibility of formal proceedings. The possibility of a lawsuit.
“You know?” Niall sounded genuinely surprised.
When Louis didn’t answer, Niall continued, voice lowered even further.
“They want to use you as the scapegoat, Louis. I tried to stop it. But we don’t have another option. We need to go public with the statement within the next three hours.”
Going public.
Louis didn’t know what was happening behind closed doors, but he knew one thing with certainty.
He was powerless.
He was no longer in a position to make a decision. No longer someone the team worked for, only someone they worked with—or rather, through.
The greater good of their company above all.
It was something Louis had worked toward for the past two years.
And now, he had reached the day where his own life would be used to achieve exactly that.
Notes:
I'm sorry my guys
But we'll work through this, alright?
Chapter 16: December 13th: Starless night (Part II)
Notes:
In the spirit of Christmas, you'll get a second part that will (hopefully) take away a bit of the pain.
There is a mention of a topic that could be triggering to some. I'll put it into the notes at the end, just jump to the very bottom.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I really tried to keep you out of this.“ Niall was still going, talking a hundred words a second, apparently explaining the background of whatever was currently unfolding. „But when they found out about your involvement with Harry, they—”
The name alone severed all connections in Louis’ brain at once. Without thinking, he pulled the phone away from his ear, far enough for Niall’s voice to become unintelligible.
The sheer humiliation that everyone had been informed about the incident. That even Louis’ closest friends would know every detail about his mistake. It was too much to take. He couldn’t bear Niall’s desperation, not when it carried consequences Louis would have to face soon enough anyway.
He still caught fragments. Something about videos. Management statements. Newspaper coverage.
If it hadn’t been clear before that one of the biggest scandals was about to unravel in full force, it was now.
Louis only made the conscious decision to listen again when Niall’s voice grew quieter, less frantic.
“Say no, Louis. You can still say no to all of this. Fuck your job, fuck these people. There has to be another way—” Niall pleaded, until Louis had to stop him.
Of all people, Niall should have known better. Probably did. Probably just couldn’t accept the inevitable.
“Niall.” Louis didn’t recognize his own flat tone. He didn’t find it in himself to fight for anything. Least of all for himself. “I don’t have a choice in this. And you know it.”
A few seconds passed. Only measured breaths echoed metallically through the phone.
“I’m sorry, Louis. I know I should protect you. It was my fault for dragging you into everything in the first place. I’m so sorry.”
The day Louis would be officially fired, he would also have to end his friendship with Niall. And despite not wanting to acknowledge it, he couldn’t ignore the tug in his chest.
Firm integrity was one of their highest values. Any word of their friendship would bring Niall down with him. Being blacklisted would make Louis an enemy and while Niall might never find the strength to stop fraternizing with one, Louis would have to.
“It wasn’t your fault, Niall.”
Louis believed his own words. He needed Niall to believe them, too.
It was one thing to involve someone in a part of the business that lay outside their usual responsibility. Yet, it was something else entirely when that involvement ended as it had with Louis.
“They want to speak to you. About a legally binding agreement between you and the company,” Niall said after another set of voices interrupted them. “Crateman and Kaeller.”
The heads of the firm.
Barely anyone who got fired received the honor of being confronted by the most powerful men in the company. Louis might have laughed at the cruelty of it if it hadn’t been his own life currently being dismantled.
“Can you tell them I agree to all their terms,” Louis asked quietly, “and that I’m leaving all further decisions to the team?”
Normally, Louis would have refused such an arrangement, fully aware that delegated decisions rarely ended without complications. But this time, he had to break his own rules.
He had nothing left to bargain with.
Which meant any conversation would be nothing more than a different form of punishment.
“You know I can’t do that, Louis. We need your official consent before releasing any statements.”
In cases involving external clients, Niall was right.
“This is an unpredictable and immediate case of necessity,” Louis replied as calmly as he could. “My contract includes a clause that allows a comparably ranked colleague to decide in my name under these circumstances. They’ll know that.”
Somewhere at the very back of his mind, Louis recognized how detached he sounded. Almost as if he was talking about nothing more than a daily procedure.
„Even now, you sound like nothing but an emotionless lawyer.“ The incredulous laugh Niall let out was weighed down with so much restrained heaviness that Louis could have cried.
“I’m going to turn off my phone now,” Louis continued. “Maybe drive up to my mum’s for the weekend. I just need to get out of here.”
Maybe he would never return from that.
“No,” Niall rushed out. “You can’t just run off like this. We have to find another solution. There has to be one. Say you disagree and I’ll come up with something else. Please.”
Niall sounded as distraught as Louis himself should have. It was unfair to put him through all of this when it had all been Louis’ fault to begin with.
“There’s nothing left to disagree with,” Louis stated, finality settling into his voice.
He took one last breath and then ended the call without saying goodbye.
He wasn’t ready for that yet.
Whatever statement their company would release within the next hours, Louis would be ruined.
So, ruining himself almost felt like regaining a bit of the lost control, he thought, as he stood up on unsteady legs, on the hunt for an escape from the current hell.
Louis found a bottle of brandy in his kitchen, right after Niall’s call. One he stared at for what felt like hours before placing it back on the shelf, leaving it unopened. Anything else would have ended in a disaster, and Louis was aware of it.
Instead of drowning his problems in alcohol that would wear off long before the pain did, he shot a text to his mother, asking if he could come home sooner than planned, before turning the device completely off and placing it on the nightstand in his bedroom.
He hadn’t eaten for almost twenty-four hours at that point, and yet couldn’t find it in himself to force anything down when his body was already fighting the cold water he used to get rid of the tightness in his throat.
Morning would come, and with it, Louis’ entire life would change.
So despite the dread already palpable in the unmoving air, Louis knew that the next few hours would be the last ones that felt remotely like normality.
He spent them numbly packing his bags for whatever stretch of time he would end up staying at home, ignoring the way his overheated apartment felt unbearably cold, the unpainted walls, the empty spaces, the unloved place that should have become his home years ago but never did.
Over the few hours since he had spoken to Niall, a steadily intensifying headache had crawled its way into every single one of Louis’ nerve endings and eventually led him to give in to sleep after hours of wandering through his flat, staring at blank walls while getting stuck in the same circling thoughts.
His phone was still lying on the nightstand, close enough for Louis to stare it down as if it might suddenly come to life, until his eyes finally fell shut.
If he had been allowed to, he would probably have thrown his mobile phone against one of the walls until it was smashed to pieces.
But simply put, he couldn't.
He had to expect someone calling him in to sign whatever final agreement had been prepared for him the following day. Maybe it was nothing more than a copy of an adhesion contract Louis had drafted himself, if the gods above truly wanted him to pay the full price for his own mistakes.
So he accepted the time bomb right next to him as he forced his body to relax.
Which didn’t work at all.
He slept terribly.
He probably hadn’t had a nightmare that intense since childhood. So when his digital alarm clock showed a little after seven the next morning, he still felt like three trains had hit him in quick succession, despite the hours of rest he had gotten.
With his eyes still half closed and his mind stuck somewhere between the horrors of his dreams and the numbness of reality, he pressed the button on the side of his phone, turning the device back on and bracing himself for whatever was waiting for him.
If he had expected things to be bad, he had underestimated the situation entirely.
His phone practically collapsed under the never-ending stream of notifications, messages and calls flooding his lock screen within seconds.
It hurt his eyes to even attempt to take it all in. So Louis waited until the pop-up notifications slowed, making it possible to skim the short previews.
There was a long list of calls from office numbers. Then from Niall. From Liam. From his family.
In his mind, Louis had been focused on answering them first. And he would have followed that plan, if at the bottom of the screen he hadn’t noticed the news article that had already been reposted on his firm’s website.
“GLOBAL°ENTERTAINMENT: CAST SCANDAL ROCKS MAJOR PRODUCTION”
Louis’ thumb hovered, his pulse quickening. He didn’t know what to expect, only that every single word would feel like another nail in his coffin. Still, aware that hiding from it wouldn’t change anything, he tapped the article.
His heart sank when he recognized the source as one of the country’s largest newspapers. There was no containing this. Everyone would see it. Everyone would read whatever version of the story had already been decided.
Louis’ thumb trembled as the article loaded. Then, as he read the first paragraph, confusion replaced the panic that had consumed him moments earlier.
Brandon Coleman, previously rumored to be involved in an upcoming flagship dating format, is facing explosive allegations. In a viral post, his former girlfriend shares screenshots suggesting Coleman pressured her to terminate her pregnancy in order to protect his public image. The accusations have sparked intense debate across social media, with calls for accountability directed at Coleman and any networks previously linked to him.
For several seconds, Louis simply stared at the screen, unable to process what he was reading.
His lips pressed thin as he scrolled, heart pounding while his eyes searched for Harry’s name.
It wasn’t there.
Neither was Louis’.
It didn’t make sense.
Global°Entertainment wishes to clarify: Brandon Coleman was never officially attached to the upcoming production. Any prior claims were premature. The network remains committed to upholding the highest standards across all formats and will be unveiling an exciting new concept in the near future.
Louis couldn’t make sense of any of it as he replayed his call with Niall, trying to remember whether Niall had ever explicitly said that it was Harry who had withdrawn.
Maybe it was his fragmented memory of the night before. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t given Niall the chance to fully explain what the firm intended to do.
Louis’ thoughts were still spiraling when his view of the article was abruptly blocked by an incoming call from Liam lighting up his screen.
Louis needed answers to questions he couldn’t quite shape yet.
And he knew — with quiet certainty — that he shouldn’t get them from Niall.
Louis braced himself and accepted the call.
“Liam?” His voice sounded a little too raspy. A little too breathless.
“Louis, thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours. We landed about an hour ago.” Liam sounded openly relieved.
“Had my phone off,” Louis apologized, guilt settling in when he realized he had made people worry about him. Concern coming from people he didn’t deserve after the choices he’d made the night before.
“I just wanted to know how you’re holding up,” Liam offered. “I still can’t believe they forced all of this on you.”
An hour ago, Louis might have been able to put his state of mind into words. Now, he had no idea what exactly he had been dragged into. Trying to explain anything felt impossible.
“Liam,” he started, hesitating for a few seconds before he abandoned the attempt at pretending. “I have no idea what’s going on.”
The silence on the other end could only mean confusion and the slow realization that something had gone very wrong.
“But—” Liam stuttered, unsuccessfully keeping the disbelief out of his voice. “What did you think Niall was talking about last night when we called you?”
Louis would have preferred almost anything over saying it out loud. Still, he forced himself to answer.
“About me being the reason Harry quit the production. About me getting fired because of it.”
He knew something was wrong the moment he heard a sharp intake of breath on Liam’s side, as the words left his mouth.
When no reply followed, a fresh wave of nausea rolled through Louis’ body.
“This whole thing,” Liam said slowly, deliberately, as if lowering the pace for Louis’ sake, “was never about Harry.”
Louis should have felt relieved. Instead, dread pooled heavier in his chest, instinctively telling him that whatever came next would be worse.
“I don’t understand what—” Louis tried, then stopped, realizing he didn’t even know how to phrase the question.
“Shit. You’re not getting fired,” Liam exclaimed. “This is so much bigger than that. This is fucking massive.”
Liam sounded like he was moments away from a mental breakdown.
“We called you last night because of Brandon Coleman.”
That part at least made sense now. Still, Liam kept going while Louis dragged the article back into view, minimizing the call so it wouldn’t block the text.
“His ex. He tried to pressure her into an abortion over text.” Liam sounded furious. Normally, Louis would’ve shared the outrage. Right now, though, he was too disoriented to react.
“She went to the press,” Liam continued rapidly. “If one of the editors hadn’t been a friend of Kaeller, we would’ve found out this morning along with the rest of the world.”
That aligned with what Louis had already read. What didn’t align was where he fit into any of this.
“I still don’t get what I—” Louis began, but Liam cut him off.
“How could you have said yes last night?” Liam almost shouted. “For fuck’s sake, Louis.”
There was a loud bang, probably Liam’s fist hitting a table, followed by a shaky breath.
“Please,” Liam said, panic barely restrained now, “get to the office and let me explain everything. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Don’t go online, okay? We’ll tell you everything once you’re here.”
Liam’s urgency should have stopped Louis.
But it didn’t.
Instead, Louis kept scrolling, driven by something between fear and compulsion.
And then he reached the bottom of the article.
PREVIEW: FIRST LOOK AT THIS YEAR’S LEADS
“No,” Louis whispered, disbelief hollowing his chest as he stared at the video thumbnail that was blurred, indistinct, yet unmistakable.
Liam was still talking, words spilling over one another, but Louis barely registered them. His focus locked onto the video he had already tapped, pulse roaring in his ears as the page loaded.
“Niall tried to stop it,” Liam insisted. “But they needed to divert attention fast. We never thought they’d actually push it through. They waited until the contestants were isolated so there’d be no interference.”
Louis barely processed the explanation.
The screen finally went black.
A familiar network logo appeared in stark white, framed by a delicate curve of red rose petals along one edge. Louis had seen that animation countless times over the years.
This time, though, something new emerged.
Bright yellow sunflower petals unfurled along the opposite side of the frame, vivid against the darkness, seamlessly woven into the design.
Louis held his breath, silently begging the universe for relief.
A second passed.
Then he was hit with a familiar scene, recognizing their happy and excited voices.
“Hello. I’m Harry Styles.”
“And my name is Louis Tomlinson.”
“And we are the men the next season of your favorite show will revolve around.”
The moment Louis recognized his own face, smiling, laughing beside Harry, it hit him like a blow he hadn’t braced for, and for several suspended seconds, all he could do was stare.
Time stalled.
His heartbeat faltered, uneven and loud.
Everything froze.
And then the world lurched forward in a blinding rush.
Notes:
Waiting to hear if you saw it coming....
Love y'all <3
TW: abortion
Chapter 17: December 14th: The Art of Untrusting
Notes:
A massive thanks to all of your comments and questions and theories! They truly made my day <3
Here is the next chapter. Enjooooy :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
If everything before had felt like a fever dream, the days that followed were more like a storm he couldn’t escape.
Watching the official trailer, and therefore watching himself, felt unreal in a way that Louis didn’t quite have words for. From the moment his face appeared on screen, smiling with a confidence he did not recognize as his own, something inside him went numb.
The echoes lingered. His voice. Harry’s. The cadence of their introductions, stitched together with polished ease. No matter how hard Louis tried to force his thoughts elsewhere, the images kept returning. The logo, the petals, the way the frame had held them side by side as if it had always been meant to.
The phone call with Liam had stretched on for what felt like hours. Louis had closed the site, his hands shaking as if he had touched something dangerous. Still, it didn’t help erase the image. Liam talked, circled back, talked some more, trying to explain, to justify, to calm him down. But Louis retained very little of it. His mind kept replaying the same fragments on a loop, unable to latch onto anything else long enough to form a coherent response.
At one point, Louis pressed his face into his pillow and tried to scream. He needed the panic to go somewhere. But his throat burned instantly, the sound coming out small and strained, swallowed by fabric and fear alike. It felt ridiculous. Inadequate. Like everything else he seemed to do lately.
He couldn’t answer most of the messages. There were too many, coming in too fast. Congratulations. Shocked disbelief. Questions phrased politely enough to demand answers he didn’t have. Former colleagues. Former friends. People who suddenly felt entitled to explanations Louis wasn’t sure he was allowed to give.
Calling his mother helped less than he had hoped. She stayed grounded, steady in a way that made Louis feel both grateful and unbearably guilty. He left out too much. Skipped entire sections of the truth. The night with Harry. The tension. The exact moment everything had tipped from fragile into catastrophic. He spoke around it, told her only what he could bear to hear out loud himself, while the rest stayed lodged in his chest, heavy with shame.
And then the world began to move faster than Louis could keep up with.
It surged ahead without waiting for him, dragging him along with a force that left no room for resistance. Everything happened at once, overlapping and accelerating, until the pace itself became paralyzing.
By Saturday afternoon, he was formally prohibited from taking public transportation or entering any public shops. Not for his safety, they said, but to avoid photographs. To prevent speculation before they left for France.
By Sunday evening, he found himself standing in the wardrobe department, arms hanging uselessly at his sides while strangers measured him from head to toe. Fabric was held up against his skin. Colors debated in hushed but urgent tones. Which shades flattered him. Which ones read best on camera.
Stylists he had never spoken to moved around him with clipboards. Assistants passed color swatches from hand to hand. Make-up palettes hovered close to his face as if he were an object to be adjusted rather than a person about to fracture. The sheer amount of attention made his head spin. He felt as though he might unravel at any second, as though the ground beneath him could give way without warning.
He was fitted for formal wear, casual wear, everything-in-between wear. Shoes. Accessories. His shoulders were turned, his chin lifted, his posture corrected without anyone asking permission. His body was handled and repositioned the way he had seen happen to others from a safe distance before. Moved like a mannequin, stripped of agency and repurposed for display.
Even a day and a half later, the unreality hadn’t faded.
Conversations blurred together. About photo shoots, staged public appearances, controlled interviews. Pap walks were discussed as logistics. Information rained down on Louis faster than his brain could process, each new instruction describing a future he could not quite imagine himself surviving.
There was no sense in arguing. Not with a contract that accounted for every possible step. Not with Niall’s representative signature already inked beside his own. Not when telling the truth about how all of this had started would only collapse what little stability they had managed to fabricate.
So Louis nodded. Smiled when expected to. Kept his posture composed while everything inside him spiraled.
Somewhere beneath the panic, he still clung to the irrational hope that this wasn’t final. That another option would emerge. That someone—anyone—actually suited for what was being asked would appear and relieve him of the role he had never wanted.
This wasn’t his dream.
This wasn’t his plan.
But he had agreed. Signed his consent without fully understanding what he was agreeing to. And now there was no space left for refusal.
Maybe Niall was the only one who truly saw through his attempt at professional indifference. He didn’t leave Louis’ side for hours, navigating the chaos with him, anchoring him with his quiet presence.
Under different circumstances, Louis might have laughed at the irony that the perfectly cut interview material filmed alongside Harry had originally been meant as his birthday gift, something Niall and Liam had secretly worked on.
The fact that everything had already been filmed and segmented proved to be the final deciding factor. The emergency team had needed a solution within hours before the article about Brandon’s private life dropped, before speculation turned into outrage. Louis understood that much. The public would never have forgiven the production for centering someone like Brandon. So, in the middle of a Friday night, they had scrambled for a replacement. Someone who had unintentionally proven themselves as capable of performing. Someone legally entangled with the company. Someone who was loyal to the team. Someone whose presence wouldn’t raise more questions than it answered.
Under different circumstances, Louis might have laughed.
Now, he only listened as Niall explained how Kaeller had brought up the footage. How he had caught glimpses of it immediately after filming. How the idea had been pitched the very night everything unraveled, when there was no time left for careful ethics or long-term consequences.
Louis chose not to dwell on how this might have been avoided. He had already done that too many times.
Instead, he focused on the contract prepared for him.
Signing it after the trailer had already gone public made the act feel almost ceremonial, like confirming a decision that had already been made without him. Still, he read every page. Every clause. Lines he himself had once explained to Harry not even a month ago.
Now, he finally understood Harry’s fear.
Each sentence felt like a lock clicking into place. A reminder that there was no turning back. Louis’ chest tightened as though the air itself had thickened.
Being part of a production like this would alter his life permanently. No matter how carefully he played the role, people would know his face. Recognize him. Watch him. Judge him.
And not even the staggering amount of money offered as compensation felt like a fair exchange for what he was losing.
Within the few hours between Louis’ uninformed consent and the posting of the trailer, his work profile had been altered.
Not adjusted.
Not refined.
Altered.
He was no longer part of the team. He was head of the department. A promotion he had fought for. Given his all the past two years.
He hadn’t been promoted as a reward for his work. As an act of making him feel seen and respected.
He had been promoted simply because who he had been up to that point was no longer sufficient.
Next to a singer, no one wanted to see a random employee. It didn’t do. So now Louis was listed as head of their law department, holding a rank higher than any promotion could have realistically offered. On their website, he had become one of the firm’s leading figures, his name positioned carefully, his title polished to make him look indispensable.
Important.
Which he truly wasn’t.
He was just a lawyer. One of many. With no more presence than anyone else in that department. He wasn’t a public figure, let alone someone people would tune in for. No amount of digital restructuring could turn him into a persona.
And as if knowing that himself wasn’t already enough, he was reminded of it the moment he stepped into the reception hall on the ground floor, preparations for the day already underway.
He had been told Kaeller was overseeing the progress. Which meant Louis headed toward the production office adjacent to the studio, where Kaeller had stationed himself to monitor the progress of the shoot alongside the remaining team. The door stood slightly ajar, a strip of artificial light spilling into the hallway, mixing with the late afternoon sun flooding in through the glass front.
Louis heard the voices long before he reached the room.
“Mister Styles simply doesn’t feel like the replacement fits the requirements that were made beforehand,” a woman stated sharply.
Most likely someone from Harry’s management.
Louis slowed, then stopped entirely.
He didn’t need to eavesdrop. No one seemed to even attempt discretion.
“I think it became clear that we were limited in our options, given the urgency of counteracting the negative press Mr. Coleman caused,” Kaeller replied. His tone was calm, but edged with fatigue. “Further association with him would not only have damaged our reputation, but potentially reflected back on your client as well.”
It had been a long day for everyone who hadn’t already left with the filming crew to supervise the candidates in France. So staying as polite and factual as Kaeller felt like a real achievement.
“It’s hard to believe the planned concept will work when one lead is a world-renowned singer,” the woman continued, “and the other barely managed to earn his own office.”
The disdain in her tone wasn’t hidden. She didn’t have to pretend.
She wasn’t wrong.
And that was the worst part.
Hearing it said out loud only reinforced what Louis already knew. Costumes, titles, reworked profiles. None of it erased the gap between him and Harry. He was a placeholder dressed up as something more.
For a fleeting moment, Louis considered turning around. Leaving the building altogether. Escaping before the words got any deeper under his skin.
But it was too late.
“I think you’re underestimating the enrichment Mister Tomlinson brings,” Kaeller countered evenly. “Based on the initial material, we felt he complements Mister Styles in an extraordinary way. Their chemistry impacts perception. That benefits all parties involved, including your client.”
A pause followed.
Long. Weighted.
Louis wondered how many people were inside that room now, dissecting his worth as if he were a product instead of a person. He was fairly certain this wasn’t meant for his ears. A private conversation. A confrontation brought to their firm intentionally, to make dissatisfaction unmistakably clear.
He braced himself. Prepared for the next blow.
“You’ve made your position clear,” Kaeller said at last. “But I believe it would be appropriate to hear Mister Styles’ perspective directly.”
The silence that followed was different.
Heavier.
“So,” Kaeller continued, “would you like to comment on the matter, Mister Styles?”
Something in Louis went cold.
For a brief, disorienting second, he was thrown backward in time. Back to that first encounter, that first moment when he had realized too late that Harry had been standing there all along. When Louis had stepped in just to help. The memory settled uncomfortably in his chest.
There was movement inside the office. A chair scraped sharply across the floor.
The door was flung open completely.
And then slammed shut just as quickly as someone exited.
Harry.
Despite clearly fleeing the situation, he froze the moment his eyes landed on Louis. His expression cracked open into unfiltered shock as he took Louis in. Most likely noticing the expensive clothes, changed hair, changed posture. Noticing the polished exterior that was no longer the person he had fought with just two nights ago.
Neither of them spoke.
The space between them, mere meters, felt charged.
Louis probably should have had one hundred different emotions at once. Anger and hurt and sadness and fury. But he just felt empty. So overwhelmed with the sudden reunion that his body was wrenched from any feeling.
They stared at each other for a few beats too long.
When Louis finally recovered enough to register where he was, it struck him how little ground either of them seemed to be standing on. The argument from the week before lingered like a distorted echo, half nightmare, half unresolved hurt. Louis still couldn’t fully grasp how it had escalated so fast. Or how they had managed to hit something so raw in each other.
But everything had changed within one night.
And whether they liked it or not, they were bound together now.
“Harry,” Louis said carefully, testing the name as if it might shatter the fragile stillness between them.
For a heartbeat, something hopeful flickered across Harry’s face. A vulnerability Louis recognized too well. One he had grown familiar with months ago. For that brief moment, it looked like Harry might slip back into the ease he’d once shown him.
Then reality caught up.
Harry’s gaze hardened as awareness settled in about where they were, who they were now, and how little room there was left for softness.
Louis had been the one person Harry had seemed to trust.
It felt like a distant memory now, as Harry gazed at him cautiously.
“What are you doing here?” Harry demanded unevenly, his voice shaky, confusion and defensiveness clashing in the way he looked Louis over with eyes full of raw emotion.
If the moment hadn’t been so clearly serious, Louis might have laughed at the sheer stupidity behind the question.
“I work here,” he stated the obvious, forcing his tone to remain light, acutely aware that every word he chose had the potential to escalate the situation further. It was nothing more than a weak, instinctive attempt to loosen the tension hanging thickly between them.
The fact that he had clearly misunderstood the question showed in the way Harry’s jaw tightened, the muscle jumping once as if restraining something sharper. Just for the sake of smoothing things over, if that was still even possible, Louis tried to rephrase his thoughtless reply, lowering his voice, trying again.
“You know why I’m here.”
Despite the softness now lacing Louis’ tone, Harry’s walls remained firmly in place, not the smallest hint of warmth breaking through his rigid demeanor.
Harry shook his head, a sharp, almost violent movement, as though he couldn’t bear the weight of Louis’ words even for a second longer.
“No,” he insisted, his voice breaking around the single syllable. “I don’t know. That’s the point.”
Louis exhaled slowly, his composure feeling increasingly strained. He took a slow half-step closer, careful not to corner Harry, his voice steady but quieter, more deliberate.
“You know what is currently happening,” he said. “The whole country probably knows what is currently happening.”
Harry’s throat worked as if he wanted to answer, but the words refused to come. His gaze flickered away for a moment before snapping back, unfocused and frantic.
Louis waited. Patiently, despite the electricity between them making the hair at the back of his neck stand on end, his muscles twisting under the tension of being this close to him again. The silence stretched, brittle and charged.
The louder, yet still unintelligible, voices bleeding out from inside the office finally seemed to shake Harry out of his trance.
“Why did you say yes and—” he broke off, gasping for air before forcing the words out, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?”
Harry made it sound as if Louis had actively chased the position he was now in. As if this had been some deliberate move. The lingering anger that Louis had fought so hard against began to slowly bubble back up.
“You understand that I never wanted any of this to happen, right?” Louis asked, disbelief creeping into his voice as the implication fully settled. That Harry truly seemed to believe this had all been some elaborate attempt to get into the position.
From the look on Harry’s face, he didn’t trust a single word.
Which was, quite frankly, absurd.
Louis faltered, unsure what to say next. “Do you really think I would have ever wanted to end up here?” he pressed on. “After getting to know me for weeks, you cannot seriously believe that.”
His tone came out more exaggerated than intended, emotion slipping through the cracks. But something about Harry’s distant caution, his guarded stare, stung more than outright hatred ever could.
Harry let out a sound that might have been an incredulous laugh, if his gaze hadn’t turned impossibly hard. Defensive. Just like it had the night everything had gone wrong. Like something in Louis’ wording had struck a nerve.
“Maybe it was your plan all along,” Harry shot back. “How should I know?”
There was no way Harry could truly believe what he was saying. Louis shook his head slowly, the last remnants of pity draining away as he stared at Harry’s furious expression.
“You think I’ve been—what—plotting this like some gigantic media move?” Louis asked, hating the way his voice grew louder, his usually ironclad composure slipping through his fingers. They were well on their way to being louder than the argument still unfolding behind the closed office door beside them.
“Ruthless spirit of a lawyer,” Harry countered. “That’s what you called it, right?”
The words landed harder than they should have. Louis had meant it as a joke back then. Hearing it now felt like Harry was deliberately turning his own words against him.
While Louis was still staring at him in stunned disbelief at the sudden shift in Harry’s entire demeanor, Harry abruptly turned and moved toward the exit, clearly intent on outrunning the confrontation altogether. It would have been smarter, far smarter, to let him go, to swallow the anger and let it burn itself out in silence.
But when had Louis been smart at any point during the past weeks?
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he snapped, following without thinking. “Do you think masterminding this nightmare has always been my life’s ambition, or what?”
The automatic glass door slid open, and cold winter air slammed into Louis’ face like a wall of bricks as he followed Harry outside. Dawn was already creeping in, pale and unforgiving, the street beside them filled with cars streaking past in blurred motion.
Harry spun around, staring at Louis as if genuinely weighing whether to punch him.
Louis had more than enough of this.
“Are you unable to imagine that someone might actually have a life that isn’t focused on being famous or getting close to you, Harry?” he demanded. “Because after you made it painfully clear how little you actually think of me, I would have more willingly shot myself in the knee than voluntarily spend another hour with you.”
Something more than just hot fury burned behind Harry’s eyes now. The muscles between his brows twitched, tension pulled tight.
“Fuck you,” Harry spat, his voice rough, low, stripped of any restraint.
Louis laughed out loud, sharp and humorless.
“That’s all you can come up with?” he shot back. “Impressive for someone who is apparently justified to be in a place that I’m not worthy of being in. Or how exactly did your management put it?”
It occurred to Louis, distantly, that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. That anyone could hear them.
Right in that moment, though, Louis didn’t think about anything beyond the person standing right in front of him.
“This isn’t where someone like you belongs,” Harry shouted, the words sounding even more demeaning coming from him than they ever could have from his manager.
This time, Louis genuinely couldn’t tell whether he was capable of holding himself back from punching Harry. Maybe hitting him would be worth the price of his own career. Perhaps it would be worth finally making all of this stop.
“Cause you are the one to judge that. After you showed how good you are in front of cameras,” Louis mocked, aiming straight for what he knew would hurt Harry the most. He deliberately kept his voice low, biting, and controlled, doing his best to make Harry look even more unhinged than he already was. “If you need a reminder, you were the reason I ended up on tape in the first place. If I hadn’t helped you out of pure pity, my life wouldn’t be completely ruined now.”
The way Louis framed it wasn’t entirely fair. It wasn’t even fully true. But it landed exactly where he had intended it to.
Harry stumbled back as if Louis had actually struck him, not needing a physical blow to feel the impact. The hurt in his eyes was immediate, raw, impossible to hide.
“You said—” Harry started, clearly intending to contradict him, to cling to something Louis had once promised or implied.
Louis didn’t let him finish.
“Whatever I said was simply what you wanted to hear,” he snapped. “Don’t you get it? You’re a fucking star, Harry. All I ever needed was for you to cooperate. It was my job to take care of you. Nothing more.”
Louis knew he had gone too far the second he saw the light drain from Harry’s eyes, expression collapsing into something hollow and shattered. There was no anger left there now, just exposed hurt.
They had both searched for the most hurtful words. Yet, Louis knew that enforcing Harry’s paranoia that Louis had only cared about him for the sake of taking advantage was cruel.
Despite the adrenaline still coursing through his body in a way it hadn’t for years, Louis couldn’t ignore the damage his words had just caused. And with that realization came immediate regret. The fight could have ended differently. It should have ended differently. If he had stayed calm. If he had been the adult in this.
He felt like the biggest asshole alive.
Even knowing the damage had already been done, Louis opened his mouth again, ready to apologize, ready to grasp for some version of a truce, or at least an ending that wouldn’t destroy them both.
But before he could say a single word, Harry moved.
Everything happened in a heartbeat.
There was a kind of blind, unthinking desperation in his expression that only pain could cause. And it was powerful enough to make Harry raise his fist and swing wildly in Louis’ direction.
Louis barely managed to flinch back in time, the punch missing his face by inches. His shoulder slammed hard into the wall behind him as Harry’s fist crashed into the bricks right beside his head.
For a split second, there was nothing but the sound of Harry’s ragged breathing and the deafening awareness that if Louis hadn’t stepped back, Harry would have hit him.
Everything froze.
Then realization dawned in Harry’s eyes. Horror, sudden and absolute.
There was no way of knowing how things might have unfolded from there. No way of telling how they would have gone on. Because suddenly, people were everywhere.
Crew members swarmed them so quickly that Louis barely had time to react before Niall was forcefully pulling Harry away from him, shouting something into his face.
Louis only registered the words through the thick fog in his head when Niall finally turned towards him as well and exclaimed what Louis should have realized long, long before.
“There are fucking paparazzi everywhere, you dumb fucking idiots.”
Only then did the full weight of what he’d done crash down on Louis.
And the fact that videos of their fight went viral across social media less than half an hour later was nothing more than a brutal reminder that this, this public unraveling, was now his life.
Notes:
Almost missing the good old times when Harry was just a shy sweetheart, haha
Chapter 18: December 15th: At the edge of falling (Part I)
Notes:
Hello everyone!
Buckle up for the next chapter :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The airport was nearly empty when their cars arrived in the early morning hours.
Given the amount of press attention they had already drawn thanks to the two scandals, flying out around four o’clock when most of the city was still asleep had sounded like the only sensible decision production had made in a long time.
An almost peaceful calm hovered over the team as the last pieces of equipment were unloaded and brought toward check-in, cases rolling quietly across the polished floor before being guided toward passport control. Despite knowing it was nothing but an illusion, Louis felt, for the first time in days, like just another faceless part of the group.
The temperatures were low, even inside the terminal, so he had chosen one of his more work-appropriate sweaters, conscious of being both on duty and not at the same time, caught somewhere in between. He had opted to arrive with the crew instead of taking a separate car, simply to hold on to the feeling of anonymity while it still lasted.
During the drive, no one had treated him any differently than before. No lingering looks. No whispered conversations. And Louis found himself clinging to that normalcy, revelling in what he knew were the last calm hours he would be allowed. He was already aware that this fragile peace wouldn’t last.
With an almost impressive degree of foresight, Harry and his management had decided to check in separately, which meant Louis didn’t catch even a glimpse of him before Louis was ushered into one of the small private waiting rooms Niall had booked for them.
Once they reached France, the careful separation would no longer be possible. Not when the two leads would be sharing a house, living in close quarters, existing in each other’s orbit twenty-four hours a day.
Louis could only hope that production would at least assign some kind of security presence, someone capable of preventing a repeat of the fight that had made it onto national television in record time. From what he had overheard during the last office meeting, the hashtags surrounding the incident were still trending, engagement numbers already surpassing those of all previous seasons.
Louis hadn’t spoken to Harry since that confrontation. Neither management team had dared to put them in the same room again. Niall was convinced that everyone involved was simply hoping the tension would eventually spill onto camera in a controlled way, manufactured drama instead of uncontrolled disaster. Maybe he was right.
Despite the relief of not being confronted with what could only be described as his adversary, Louis hadn’t been able to shake the restlessness that came with not knowing how Harry was doing. His emotions were tangled into something uncomfortable, resentment threaded through with concern, anger softened by a sympathy he didn’t quite want to acknowledge.
It didn’t make sense, so Louis kept it to himself, not even sharing it with Niall. At all costs, not sharing it with Niall.
After some initial probing, Niall had accepted that it was a topic Louis wasn’t ready to touch.
“Pop stars are probably all shitty once you get to know them,” Niall had remarked during one of their last lunch breaks before filming began.
Now, settled into the waiting room, slightly removed from the rest of the team, there was an unspoken agreement between them. A shared knowledge of what could be said, and what was better left disregarded. With coffee in hand and the muted hum of the airport beyond the walls, Louis almost managed to relax against the small couch they were sharing.
“Liam says the region is supposed to be stunning,” Niall mentioned, checking his phone for what must have been the millionth time, keeping up with Liam’s steady stream of updates they had gotten since his departure a few days ago. “Still pretty cold, though. But we’ve got enough heat lamps to fake the warmth. Especially for the evening events.”
From past seasons, filming usually didn’t start before June. Louis had learned during one of the many briefings arranged for him that the sudden change in schedule was due to Harry’s album commitments. Rumours were already circulating about new music, possibly even a tour timed neatly with the show’s release.
So if the women waiting for them would be freezing their way through three weeks of winter in France, it was apparently a sacrifice worth making for the presence of a globally recognised singer.
“Nice that no one questioned filming by the sea where it’s probably ten degrees colder than England.” Louis muttered, staring out at the grey sky.
“You know it’ll look incredible on camera,” Niall replied easily. “Calanques in the background, dramatic cliffs, ocean views. The girls will be too distracted to call out whatever bullshit you tell them.”
Louis swatted the back of Niall’s head lightly.
“I’ll lawyer my way through every conversation so smoothly you’ll have to look away not to fall in love with me too,” Louis declared, trying to sound more confident than he felt. Somewhere between the chaos and the contracts, he had almost forgotten what was actually expected of him. Dating, connecting, and being emotionally open.
From the look Niall gave him, the performance wasn’t particularly convincing.
“Do you really think you’ll manage the whole dating thing, though, Tommo?” Niall asked, keeping his tone casual, though his expression betrayed genuine concern.
Louis shrugged.
“I think I’ll have to, won’t I? It’s not like I was completely closed off to dating before.”
That wasn’t entirely true. But over the past months, Louis had caught himself wondering what it might be like not to be alone. Maybe—just maybe—this could become something real. Something worth the price he was paying.
“Kaeller seemed very sure you were looking for a partner,” Niall added neutrally.
Louis huffed. “He said someone in my position needs stability. That a visible relationship would increase my market value.”
Niall snorted.
„Bullshit,“ he commented, not even slightly impressed by the statement.
„Maybe Kaeller is really on top of things, though,“ Louis defended the view, not ready to give up the comfort that came with that sort of rationalism. He didn’t have to look at Niall to know that his best friend was rolling his eyes.
„I’ll tell you what that man is for sure not on top of with that motivation — And that’s his wife.“
Louis laughed before he could stop himself, while Niall cackled along next to him.
“But seriously,” Niall said, waiting until Louis met his gaze again. “If being with someone still feels like an obligation for your job, then it’s not the right person. Alright?”
Louis nodded, though Niall clearly wasn’t convinced.
“I’ll be watching you go on dates for the next two weeks,” Niall continued. “You’d better enjoy the hell out of it. If you don’t, I’ll haunt you every second you’re not on camera. Promise me you’ll at least try.”
Louis nodded again, unsure whether a promise like that was even possible.
“Good,” Niall said, patting his shoulder. “Then everything will work out. I’m sure of it.”
Whether Niall’s optimism came from sheer denial or from a complete insensitivity to the tension in the air was impossible to tell.
What was certain, though, was that Louis needed a heavy dose of it to get through what awaited them the moment boarding began.
Because the second the two separated teams rejoined each other at the final ticket control, the calmness from before evaporated within a blink. While Harry’s management greeted most of the team with practiced ease, Louis was completely ignored. Something he couldn’t even feel surprised by, given that he had been the main cause of the scene Harry had made not a week before.
While Louis had spent most of the time he’d had left before this morning overthinking how his and Harry’s first encounter since the fight might go, it had been wasted effort. Harry didn’t look up once during the entire time they stood in line.
He was clad in a grey hoodie and loose sweatpants, his whole body and face hidden away. Louis still recognized him from afar, too familiar with Harry’s way of holding himself. His posture, the subtle hunch of his shoulders, the tension drawn tight across his frame like a shield. Defensive. Closed in. As if the world itself had become something to brace against.
Getting on the plane went almost suspiciously smooth. Barely anyone spoke. Former conversations had died down, voices swallowed by the sterile hum of the airport, and it seemed as though every single person involved was simply trying to endure the weight of the unspoken.
Louis stayed back with Niall, one of the last to be checked in. He focused on the motions—passport, ticket, polite nods—looking away whenever there was even the slightest chance of meeting the eyes of the other management, acting as casually as possible.
Out of the corner of his eye, Louis followed the path the other team took, tracking their movements until they reached the entrance leading into the business area of the airplane.
Just one more second. One more second to wait it out before finally looking at the one thing Louis had forbidden himself to face, and he would have avoided it entirely.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Louis let his gaze drift to where he was painfully aware Harry was stepping onto the plane, only to be struck by something he hadn’t expected.
Harry’s eyes were on him.
His head was barely raised, just high enough for his face to be visible, grey fabric pulled up to his chin, dark curls falling along the sides of his face. There was a notion of something unguarded in his expression, gaze almost searching. Unguarded. Like he’d been caught looking before he remembered to keep his eyes away.
Louis felt as though a grip was pulling him in as he failed to avert his own gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he swallowed heavily, acutely aware that the intensity between them couldn’t be dulled by the careful control they were both clinging to. The space between them felt suddenly smaller, stretched thin by everything that had been said and everything that hadn’t.
Only when one of Harry’s managers placed a guiding hand on his back and pulled him forward did Louis feel like he could draw a proper breath again.
Fuck.
He tried to regain his footing.
Fuck.
Even minutes later, Louis still felt weak in the knees when he finally sank into his seat next to Niall, rows and rows away from the one person who had left him with a deeper sinking feeling than the plane did when it eventually lifted into the air.
“Sometimes getting used to new waters is painful,” Niall said as they watched the first pale outlines of France appear beneath them, sounding far wiser than he had any right to, especially after snoring through the two-hour flight like a chainsaw set on low.
Despite Louis’ dismissive eye roll, Niall tapped his temple lightly, as though the thought had required genuine effort. “I could hear your overthinking in my dreams, Tommo. I can see that you’re getting worked up from your face. But we’ll get through this, alright? This day. It’s like—like when you put new fish into your aquarium. You keep your guppies in their little plastic bag and wait until they’re ready to swim off on their own. Patience, Louis. Adaptation. Getting used to something that’s different.”
Louis barely had the capacity to process the analogy before he kicked Niall against the chin, offended on principle at being compared to a brainless fish in a plastic bag.
Not that he didn’t feel exactly like one the moment they exited the airport, and Louis was informed of the driving arrangements for the rented cars that would take them to their accommodations.
If everyone had tried their best to keep him and his co-star as far apart as possible, that effort unraveled quickly once Louis was faced with the waiting coordinator.
While most of the team was being taken to the apartment complex booked for the crew, only a handful of people would accompany the two cast members to their villa.
Which meant there was only one car.
He, for instance, did as he was guided into the yet empty car, watching as camera equipment was unloaded and stacked onto one side of the back bench, cables and cases quickly claiming the space.
Only then was he presented with the two options awaiting him. Either facing Harry the entire time or having him right next to him. Two options that both made Louis wonder if it was already too late to quit his job and get as far away from everything as possible.
The decision was taken from him when Niall got inside and decisively pushed Louis onto one of the seats before sitting down next to him, leaving only two seats on the opposite bench free.
While the chaos outside had easily drowned out the never-ending tension hanging above all of their heads, inside the small van, silence did the opposite. It pulled tight around them, bringing an electrifying stillness into the moment and making it impossible to ignore the people who got into the car a minute later.
Harry seemed so hyperfocused on looking at nothing but the floor that he ended up sitting right in front of Louis, their legs only centimeters away from touching. Close enough for Louis to be acutely aware of it. Close enough that shifting even slightly would make their bodies collide.
Everyone sat in silence for an agonizingly long time before the car doors were slammed shut and the driver finally started the engine.
“How long will the drive be?” The person accompanying Harry asked, her voice neutral but not unkind.
“About one and a half hours, approximately. The estate lies right between Cassis and La Ciotat,” Niall explained, obviously trying hard to pronounce the French names as well as possible and doing an awful job at it.
“Someone said we might already catch a glimpse of the Calanques,” she added, and before Louis knew it, she and Niall were caught in a conversation about the region they would be filming in.
Without really listening to anything that was said, Louis stared out through the tinted window, watching how the busy streets turned into smaller roads with every passing minute. The usual grey concrete buildings grew fewer until there were barely any houses left at all, swallowed by masses of pine trees lining their path.
The region was stunning. It was simply undeniable.
It took them about an hour before they were in what felt like the middle of nowhere. The road wound upward, past the last signs of humanity, massive estates that looked more like farms thinning out the further they drove from official streets. They no longer encountered any other cars, moving deeper and deeper into dry pine forests and scrub, where pale rock jutted out between the trees and the air seemed to be getting more humid.
While Louis had drowned out most of the voices surrounding him, his head still snapped away from the window when he heard Harry’s silent gasp from the seat opposite him.
How he managed to register the tiny sound at all was beyond him. Yet Louis sensed it immediately, like something tugging at his awareness before he could stop it. And as he followed Harry’s line of sight, he forgot to question himself altogether.
On Harry’s side of the road, the trees had opened up, offering a sudden, breathtaking glimpse of what stretched out beyond the dense forest.
“Those are what I told you about before. The Calanques,” Niall explained excitedly, leaning forward toward Harry and carefully pointing out the window. “It’s a protected national park. Cliffs, little bays, all that. People hike there, or go down for swimming and diving.”
Louis let his eyes linger on the view. White cliffs dropped in jagged lines into water so impossibly blue it almost looked unreal, sharp edges cutting into the calm horizon. It was the kind of scenery that felt staged for impact. And it worked.
Yet while all of them stared out the window, Louis’ focus shifted without permission.
Despite the hood pulled low over his face, Harry’s profile was fully visible now, the openness of the landscape seemingly enough to make him forget, just for a moment, where he was. The tension he had carried since boarding had loosened almost imperceptibly.
And Louis hated how easily he noticed.
Harry’s eyes were shining, caught by the light reflecting off the water below, his attention completely claimed by the view. His expression was softer than it had been for what felt like forever, younger somehow, lips parted just slightly as if he had forgotten to hold himself together.
From where Louis sat, he could see the bright scenery mirrored in Harry’s dark green eyes.
Everything about it was too much to cope with.
Louis forced himself to look away, a strange feeling settling somewhere behind his ribs, something he refused to examine too closely.
Cause yeah — Niall had been right all along.
It was the most beautiful view to have.
Notes:
To cite a statement made by one of my closest friends about last year's story, which is very appropriate now...
"Louis is so pathetic. And we stan a pathetic king."
Chapter 19: December 15th: At the edge of falling (Part II)
Notes:
Here is your part II for today :)
Chapter Text
Arriving at their accommodation felt like arriving in a parallel universe as the house might have been the most luxurious building Louis had ever seen.
The villa was impossibly white, almost luminous against the hillside, and yet carried that unmistakable French elegance with subtle stone accents and stucco-framed windows.
The entrance was grand, with ceilings soaring high above them, letting in a flood of sunlight from a skylight that was caught and reflected by the polished travertine flooring, making every step echo through the space.
The high walls were perfectly smooth, painted in a warm, creamy tone, while wood panels in muted shades softened the otherwise minimalistic architecture.
Louis registered Harry only peripherally as they were guided inside, always a few meters apart, never close enough to brush shoulders, never far enough to truly relax.
The distance felt intentional. Maintained.
A staircase of glass and dark wood wound upward, seemingly floating, leading to the private quarters on the second floor, as Louis learned during the brief tour given by a part of the team that had arrived a week before them. Upstairs, two bedrooms sat on the ends of the corridor, each with its own high-end bathroom.
Louis’ room was right next to the stairs, just as massive as the rest of the villa, dominated by an oversized bed and an adjacent bathroom tiled in dark natural stone. Everything looked untouched, pristine in a way that felt almost impersonal.
As Harry was shown his own room, Louis stayed behind, not following to take a closer look. From the quick glance Louis managed, it appeared just as impressive, with a bathroom separated from the bedroom itself, located on the opposite side of the hall.
Downstairs again, past the entrance hall, the space opened into a massive living and dining area. The open kitchen melted seamlessly into the living room, the long marble kitchen island and oversized couch barely able to fill the enormous space.
At the far end of the room, as Louis was informed during the tour, a closed door led to Harry’s music room. An area neither Harry nor Louis approached. Despite the flicker of curiosity it sparked, Louis acted as though he didn’t care. He was faintly surprised that Harry didn’t show any visible interest either, but there were simply too many impressions crashing down on him at once to dwell on it for long.
Instead, his attention was drawn to the last part of the villa they had yet to see.
Nothing compared to the real showpiece behind the living room’s full-width glass front. Where, beyond it, the backyard stretched expansively into a wide terrace overlooking the sea. From there, the estate felt almost endless. A private world of greenery, light, and water, so beautiful it made the luxury inside seem secondary by comparison. The glass-covered patio held clusters of outdoor couches, while a small pool shimmered just beyond them.
For a few minutes, it felt easy to forget why Louis was here at all. The pressure, the stress, the weight of expectation suddenly seemed distant, almost insignificant, as he took in the space he would spend the following weeks in.
At least until he noticed the movement just above his head.
With everything else demanding his attention, Louis had somehow dismissed them at first. Small technical devices that had been placed in every corner, on every ceiling, scattered throughout the house, looking an awful lot like cameras.
Because they were.
Niall confirmed it when they regrouped in the kitchen after the tour.
Whatever fragile sense of peace had settled over Louis vanished instantly, replaced by reality as Niall began explaining the carefully installed video system.
Apart from the toilets and showers, every single space could be seen and filmed through one of the twenty-seven cameras positioned above them. The knowledge made Louis’ skin crawl.
“We’ll deactivate the cameras overnight and during content breaks throughout the day,” Niall explained casually, tapping around on the iPad that displayed still shots of every room from multiple angles. The images must have been taken before their arrival as the kitchen showed no trace of them.
“You’ll be able to tell whether you’re being filmed by the green lights beneath the lenses. We’ll also give you a signal in the morning and every other time the cameras are reactivated. There’s a ten-second timer before recording starts. I’ll show you in a moment.”
Niall moved around the kitchen counter, pointing at one of the large sound boxes mounted high on the wall.
“As you’re not allowed to have access to phones and the like, we’ll wake you up with music every day. The time depends on how early our activities start. You’ll hear your wake-up song after the timer begins, and while the cameras in the house start filming before, the bedroom cameras will stay deactivated until the song ends. So you can get up in peace. Is that understandable?”
Louis, still occupied with counting the cameras he could find in the living room alone, nodded. Beside him, Harry did the same, his agreement silent, unreadable. Probably because neither of them could disagree at this point.
“Apart from clear emergencies, no one from our team will enter the villa outside the recording times,” Niall continued. “In most cases, you’ll receive an announcement over the audio channel. Same system we’ll use for general communication concerning interviews, departures, and schedules.”
Despite the breathtaking accommodation, Louis felt less and less comfortable, his gaze drawn unwillingly to the discreet yet omnipresent technology surrounding them.
They were nothing but lab rats in luxury.
“If you need something or have questions, you’ll find speaker buttons in the entrance hall, upstairs in the hallway, and here in the kitchen,” Niall pointed out, gesturing the group to step closer to where he was positioned.
Embedded into the kitchen wall like an ornament, the speaker system initially appeared decorative. The white control panel was set into a slim bronze frame, which, like the matte black buttons that Niall pushed as he explained the usage, harmonized with the design of the rest of the appliances.
“Thanks to the mics everywhere, you’re not obligated to wear your transponder inside the house. You’ll be reconnected to the audio system whenever we leave the villa, though. But we’ll explain that as soon a it’s necessary.”
It was a lot to take in all at once. And yet, more unsettling than the mass of complex technology itself was the thought that every sound they made, every breath, every word, every argument, would be automatically captured and archived. The villa, despite its beauty, no longer felt like a place that could ever be a home. The safety it had seemed to promise moments earlier now felt deceptive. Treacherous.
Louis averted his gaze from the small devices just to put his mind at ease.
“The official filming period will start in three days,” Niall informed them, swiping through an open document on his display, eyes skimming over its contents.
“So we won’t be filmed until then?” Louis asked, unsure whether he should feel relieved by the idea of having time to acclimate or terrified by the prospect of being alone with Harry for that long.
Before he could decide which feeling was worse, Niall shook his head. His face scrunched slightly, the expression giving Louis immediate warning that there was something else coming. Something Niall clearly wasn’t eager to explain.
“Niall?” Louis prompted, leaning back against the marble kitchen counter as he waited.
“Well.” Niall hesitated. “Thanks to the clips of the two of you fighting, combined with the pre-posted recordings of you together, people have gotten… very invested in this antagonism between you.”
The words landed heavily in the space between Louis and the person who had avoided him like the plague during the entirety of their tour.
“Apparently,” Niall continued, “viewers love nothing more than two people who can’t stand the sight of each other.”
Silence followed. Not the comfortable kind. The kind that buzzed under the skin.
Harry reacted first.
“They what?” he asked, incredulous, his voice rough from disuse. It was the first time Louis had heard him speak since their rather public disagreement, and the sound of it startled Louis more than it should have.
Niall shrugged, still avoiding looking at either of them.
“People are treating it like a boxing match. The hashtags with your names are still trending everywhere. Pre-release engagement is stronger than we’ve ever had.” He paused briefly, and Louis could see the pure guilt that Niall tried to overplay by casualness. “That’s why production decided to post regular clips from the house. Just natural interactions between the two of you. Nothing that gives away the actual show. Just enough to keep the hype alive.”
Louis let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
“So basically,” he said, disbelief lacing every word, “you want us to rip each other apart so you can cut it into highlights for people to gush over?”
No one answered.
And suddenly, the past few days snapped into place.
“You kept us separated the entire way from England to France so you wouldn’t miss any potential escalation,” Louis said slowly. “Didn’t you?”
He didn’t wait for confirmation. He didn’t need it. The truth was written plainly across Niall’s face.
The realization left Louis momentarily speechless, anger bubbling too fast for him to shape into anything articulate. Across from him, Harry stayed silent. Still. Watching. And Louis despised him a little more for how easily he seemed to accept this. For not pushing back, not saying anything at all.
“It wasn’t my decision to make, Louis,” Niall said carefully, clearly torn between his loyalty towards his best friend and the guidelines he had gotten from their company. “And it is in your hands what you let people see. Although,” he added, quieter now, “good engagement would benefit both of you.”
The house felt smaller by the second.
„Benefit in what way? For sure not in boosting our reputation,“ Louis snapped, praying that this whole concept could somehow still be discarded. He should have known better.
„You’ll be paid extra in relation to the engagement for every clip that gets posted before the official start of filming.“
Louis could have screamed at the audacity of thinking that money would make any of this less vile.
„And technically, your contract states this week as part of the general production phase. So we have full rights to the material as well as your clear consent to film you at any time we like,“ Niall added, keeping his tone neutral and detached in a way that told Louis that he was struggling with the things he was forced to say.
Louis bit his tongue to keep from swearing loudly enough to draw the attention of the crew bustling around them.
„You can thank the conscientious lawyers who worked out all these details beforehand,“ Niall added bitterly, the comment unmistakably aimed at Louis.
Louis took a very deep breath before choosing an appropriate reaction.
Perhaps the public would be just as entertained if the next physical altercation were to occur between one of the leads and a crew member who was far too unguarded for his own good.
„May all of you choke on the extra money,“ Louis growled, low enough that only Niall could hear it.
Without showing any sign that the words landed, Niall snorted.
„With pleasure.“
And then—just like there had never been an issue—Niall went back to skimming his notes, calmly briefing them on the filming process and the plans for the coming days, while Louis tried to slow down his heartbeat.
The few days before the official start were meant for settling in, shooting introductory material, and taking promotional photos. Apart from that, Louis and Harry were free to use their time at the house however they wanted.
Which sounded more peaceful than it actually was, Louis realized about an hour later, when he immediately regretted wishing for the briefings to finally end as the people surrounding him got ready to leave.
With every person who exited the house, the unbearable silence between the two people that would be left to their own devices grew louder.
„Time for the show to begin,“ Niall announced at the door, the cars outside waiting as he prepared to finally join them.
For less than a second, genuine concern flickered across his face as he looked at Louis, the carefully curated levity cracking.
For less than a second, Niall was just his best friend and not the official head of production.
Louis gave him a somewhat reassuring smile as Niall’s mask slid back into place.
„Take care of yourselves, guys.“
A few taps on his tablet later, Niall’s gaze flicked between Louis and Harry as they stood in the entrance hall. Then he made one final, deliberate motion on the display.
Before Louis could ask what he was doing, a loud beeping echoed through the house.
„Ten seconds before you’re on camera,“ Niall informed them. „I’ll always have my eyes on you.“
Then the door shut.
Only the faint countdown overhead proved that the world hadn’t actually stopped as the sudden livelessness inside felt like everything had frozen in time.
For the first half of the countdown, both of them remained right where Niall had left them, only a few meters of distance between them.
Then, as soon as Louis had recovered from his own overwhelm, he turned around.
Harry stood across the room, perfectly still, like he’d been placed there rather than having acted himself. His face was blank, but his eyes were fixed on Louis with an intensity in them that made heat prickle along the back of Louis’ neck.
For a suspended moment, neither of them moved. Not closer. Not away. As if the wrong shift of weight might tip something irreversible.
Then the monotone beeping from the stereo system sharpened, slicing through the quiet. It cut off abruptly, followed by a series of soft clicks as bright green lights sprang to life.
And in that instant, the reality hit.
They were filmed.
Every movement. Every glance. Every breath.
The villa wasn’t just a house anymore.
It was a stage.
And without thinking, Louis did the only thing that felt even remotely right. He strode past Harry without a word, climbed the stairs to his room, collapsed onto the massive bed, shot a single, unapologetic glare at the camera, and then buried himself beneath the covers.
Chapter 20: December 16th: Mouth guards
Notes:
in a rush <3
Chapter Text
Louis didn’t leave his room until the two cameras in the corners of the ceiling clicked off and he heard commotion downstairs, followed shortly by Niall shouting his name from below.
Despite having tried to catch up on some much-needed sleep, Louis had spent the hours lying awake in bed, trying to get a grip on his life while knowing that every little movement he made could end up broadcast all over social media.
While not even the prospect of seeing Niall and a few familiar faces was enough to motivate Louis to leave his room, the mention of dinner finally convinced him to make his way toward the living room.
Metallic containers were lined up on the kitchen island, and people from their team were standing around them, loading their plates with food.
“Tommo,” Liam exclaimed from the other side of the room, grinning when Louis immediately headed for him, accepting the quick hug with a small smile.
“Good to see you, Payno,” Louis greeted him, weirdly relieved to have Liam by his side even as Louis caught Liam’s inquiring glances, clearly checking his mood as they moved toward the small buffet.
“I’m fine,” Louis muttered before Liam got the chance to ask, focusing on getting a generous amount of chicken along with what looked like roasted potatoes and green beans. A typical French dinner, as someone next to him explained. As if he’d care.
Liam only replied once they were more or less alone in the kitchen area and the rest of the team had settled down on the couches outside on the terrace.
“Not to sound like a freak, but I’ve watched you for the past six hours, and you didn’t look alright.“
Louis rolled his eyes. „I highly doubt you saw a lot of me,“ he grumbled, although Liam was absolutely right with his observation.
„Yeah, you idiot. Because you hid under a blanket for the past 6 hours,” Liam exclaimed, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Well, maybe I just showed the adequate reaction of a person who’s suddenly being monitored by about a hundred cameras at once,” Louis replied, not sure why his behaviour should be questioned when the fault clearly lay with the overall situation.
“Niall and I tried to get you more days with deactivated cameras, but we were outvoted.”
While Louis appreciated the gesture, even though it didn’t help much.
“I don’t blame either of you. I’m just… a lot more overwhelmed by this than I expected,” Louis admitted as they slowly made their way toward the glass doors.
“You’re clearly not the only one struggling,” Liam said quietly, his gaze drifting toward Harry, who had chosen a seat a few metres away from everyone else, facing the sea while staring down at his plate.
“Yeah?” Louis asked non-commitally, too proud to show open interest but curious enough as he hadn’t heard a single sound for the entirety of their time alone in the house.
When Liam stayed quiet for a few beats too long, Louis couldn’t help furrowing his brows.
“Liam?” he pressed, not entirely sure why he cared about someone he was very deliberately trying to avoid.
“It was hard to make out because of the limited view, but he must have been sitting on the shower floor,” Liam explained, clearly concentrating on keeping his voice neutral.
“He what?” Louis asked incredulously, a little louder than intended, although still not loud enough to draw obvious attention.
“Niall must have told you already. Shower and toilet are the only places without cameras, and the bathroom audio turns off automatically when there’s no movement on screen. So hiding there was probably the only way to become invisible.”
The additional explanation did nothing to make the image of Harry sitting on the bathroom floor for hours any easier to swallow. Had their relationship not been such a mess, Louis might have allowed himself to feel sorry for him.
It almost felt as though Liam was nudging him toward that exact feeling.
“As it was mainly Niall and me monitoring the house, we could overlook and ignore the lack of action,” Liam continued. “But if we still have nothing to report by the end of tomorrow, the content team might get a bit pushy. And I really don’t want to explain to them that their main attraction has been cowering on the shower floor all day.”
What Liam told him made sense. But apart from that, Louis couldn’t help much with the issue.
“I doubt there’s anything I can do to make this easier. It’s clear he hates me,” Louis shared, not feeling like he was the right person to force Harry out of his shell. Liam shot Louis a glance that made it clear that he was contemplating saying something, but decided against it.
“I’ll try to speak to him after dinner,” Liam muttered. “We don’t need hours of you creating content for now. All we need are a few clips. Something interesting enough to be posted. Small conversations or disputes.”
That statement didn’t make Louis feel reassured. Rather, it made him wonder whether their managements were willing to ruin their reputations in exchange for as many clicks as possible.
“Let’s have dinner and then think things through,” Louis suggested, to which Liam agreed instantly.
While Louis couldn’t quite shake the thoughts of what Liam had told him, his mood improved almost immediately when he took a seat between Liam and Niall and joined the lively conversation already unfolding.
There was an unmistakable comfort in being surrounded by the people Louis worked with on a more or less daily basis. People he had spent countless lunch breaks and projects with. The familiarity brought an ease to the interaction. It was almost enough to make Louis forget about the one person who wasn’t part of their circle.
Only almost.
Because despite not wanting to, Louis couldn’t help noticing the slight tug in his chest when he watched Harry leave the outdoor area only minutes after they had all sat down. His plate, Louis saw from his place, was still full of food, almost as if he hadn’t touched it at all.
Liam got up from his seat, shooting the group a quick nod before trailing after Harry.
He pulled the terrace door shut behind him, clearly shielding the kitchen from curious ears outside.
Still, watching the two of them was enough to piece together how the conversation went.
The entire time Liam spoke, Harry kept his head lowered toward the floor, showing not the slightest reaction to what was being said. At least until Liam appeared to say something that triggered an immediate response.
Harry’s head shot up, his body jerking away from Liam as if he’d been slapped. There was a decisive shake of his head before he slammed his plate down on the counter hard enough for the sound to carry through the closed glass door.
Then Harry stormed off toward the dark hallway, clearly heading upstairs, while Liam remained in the kitchen, massaging his temples before glancing outside and shrugging helplessly at his audience. When he eventually rejoined them on the terrace, there was no need to voice the obvious question.
“Let’s not discuss this right now, alright, guys? That’s a problem for our tomorrow selves,” Liam deflected as he sank back into his seat.
And despite a few probing glances, the team honoured the request, continuing to eat and talk about anything but what had just unfolded in front of them.
It was late when Louis watched the cars disappear into the chilly night and closed the main door behind them, before quietly making his way upstairs.
After everyone had agreed that Harry was probably already asleep and unlikely to resurface to cause a film-worthy scene, Niall and Liam took responsibility for keeping the cameras deactivated for the rest of the evening. Which meant there were no blinking lights waiting for Louis when he stepped into his bedroom.
Even though he told himself he didn’t care, Louis hoped for a brief moment that the dark lenses meant Harry was in his bed and not curled up somewhere on the cold stone floor.
Either way, Louis wouldn’t know, and he had no reason to dwell on it. So he mostly didn’t, as he got ready for bed, rummaged through his suitcase until he found his sleep shirt and went through his short nightly routine.
When he slipped under the covers for the second time that day, he fully expected to fall asleep instantly, given the exhausting hours behind him. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how it went.
Instead, Louis spent what felt like hours turning from one side to the other, unable to find a comfortable position beneath the obviously expensive bedding, his body refusing to relax in the new space.
So the hours dragged by, endless chains of chaotic thoughts making rest feel more exhausting than staying awake.
And when the sky outside began to lighten, signalling that it was most likely early morning, right as Louis startled awake from yet another failed attempt at drifting off, he decided to give up on sleep entirely.
With his head feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton, the prospect of finding a coffee machine downstairs was enough motivation for Louis to quietly make his way toward the kitchen, careful not to wake his housemate in the process.
Given that the entire downstairs area was open-plan, even the smallest movement in the kitchen echoed through the space and most likely carried into the entrance hall.
Not that Louis needed to worry much about noise, considering he couldn’t find a coffee machine anywhere. An almost impossible notion in a high-tech kitchen like this one. To preserve what little optimism he had left, Louis blamed it on the limited visibility of any coffee-related item in the dim light that he, thanks to the automated lighting, couldn’t change. At least an electric kettle had been placed in clear view.
Resigned, Louis grabbed a tea bag from the impressively stocked selection and fetched some milk from the fridge. Only then did he notice the clock mounted beneath one of the cameras, clearly positioned outside the recording range.
It was almost five o’clock.
Far too early to be awake.
A fact that Louis’ body apparently caught up with the moment he settled down on the couch and set his mug onto the small table beside it.
Before even half of his tea was gone, Louis had somehow managed to doze off for the first time since arriving.
It could have been peaceful. The couch wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, the dawn muted by thick clouds, the house wrapped in complete silence. Louis might have slept half the day away.
But apparently, the crew had other plans.
Before Louis could gain even a shred of orientation, the blaring countdown echoing through the rooms announced that filming was about to begin.
His body reacted instantly, heart slamming against his ribs, muscles snapping awake as if he were facing immediate danger while his head throbbed painfully from the abrupt disruption.
Instead of getting up and attempting to look remotely presentable, Louis covered his face with his hands and groaned as quiet clicking noises sounded above him and ceiling lights switched on. He briefly considered simply continuing to sleep, fairly certain no one would find much entertainment in watching him unconscious on the couch.
Once again, Louis could have.
Would have been physically capable of doing so.
But life had other plans.
Noise reached him from farther away, and it took only a second to recognize the sound of footsteps on the staircase. If there was one thing Louis truly didn’t need in that moment, it was the presence of his housemate.
Hoping Harry would just grab himself some tea or breakfast before retreating upstairs to sulk in his room, Louis stayed where he was, aware that the high back of the couch was enough to hide him from anyone moving around in the kitchen.
Things could have gone painfully smooth.
But they didn’t.
Harry must have been midway down the stairs when the music started.
Despite the softness of the song itself, the volume made it impossible to ignore the melody that echoed through the large space.
Louis didn’t recognize the song, only able to distinguish the guitar and piano within the first two seconds of the recording.
Then everything happened very quickly.
A sharp, panicked “no” tore through the house, so raw with emotion that Louis barely recognized the voice as Harry’s. Every single one of Louis’ former thoughts came to a halt.
The shout was followed by the frantic thud of feet on the stairs, Harry’s voice rising, desperate, unfiltered.
“Stop the music. Stop—please—stop this.”
Louis blinked, startled by the sudden outburst, listening as Harry stumbled loudly into the kitchen while the instruments continued playing what was likely the opening bars of a song. Despite his plan to stay hidden, Louis was on his feet instantly, unable to tell whether something had gone seriously wrong.
As he hurried toward Harry, who was fumbling with something mounted in the wall, fingers shaking heavily, Louis didn’t spare a single thought for the wreckage of their relationship. He heard the beeps of buttons being pressed too hard, too fast, and it took a moment to register that Harry was fighting the voice control system Niall had shown them the day before.
“Turn it off. Please. Make it stop. Just make it stop,” Harry shouted toward the ceiling, voice laced with so much emotion that it sounded like he was about to cry, likely making enough noise to render the intercom unnecessary. Still, nothing happened as he kept searching for the right button.
Without thinking, Louis squeezed into the narrow space beside him and pressed the button the way Niall had demonstrated, holding it down for a few seconds before the device sprang into action. The crucial step Harry had missed.
Louis leaned closer to the panel, his mind lagging behind his actions, but his body moving on instinct as he felt the trembling body next to him.
“Turn off the music, please,” he ordered evenly. Compared to Harry’s panic, his voice sounded almost detached, still thick with sleep.
For a few heartbeats, nothing happened.
Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the sound cut out. The music stopped mid-note, silence crashing down around them.
They stood pressed against each other, shoulders brushing, the only sound Harry’s ragged breathing against Louis’ ear. They were suddenly so close. Louis couldn’t help but notice how intimate it felt.
Still unsure what had just unfolded, he was the first to step back, putting distance between them and waiting for Harry to meet his gaze.
But Harry didn’t. He kept staring at the speaker, as if unaware of the room—or of Louis—entirely.
Louis exhaled slowly.
“Are you alright?” he asked carefully, beginning to wonder if something was seriously wrong.
When Harry finally looked at him, it was impossible to tell whether he was truly seeing Louis or simply reacting to the sound of his voice.
For just a few seconds, Harry’s expression was unguarded, fear and blank desperation reflected in his eyes that were boring into Louis’ as if searching for reassurance. Louis felt the urge to touch him, to shield him away from the cameras above their heads. An impulse that, with all the anger he had felt the days before, just didn’t make sense and yet felt like the only real thing Louis had felt since arriving.
„Harry?“ He asked again, feeling like he was transported back to the moment when they had first met.
A second passed. And then, as if the question had never been asked, Harry turned away.
While Louis watched him with nothing but blunt irritation, Harry left the room, heading back upstairs without a word.
There was no doubt in Louis’ mind what Harry would do next.
And fuck—it wasn’t his responsibility to keep an unstable wannabe pop star from curling up on unsupervised shower floors.
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