Young & Beautiful

they’d gotten ready and had some time to spare), and as they glide across the school grounds, he
feels very much like royalty, sauntering forward, arm linked with Niall’s, and even the boxy,
awkward bump of Niall’s milk carton crushing into his side doesn’t deter him as they slink their
way towards the tower.
Because Louis chose to be ‘glitter’ for Halloween, and it’s the best idea he’s had in years.
His hair’s mussed and fussed in pixie disarray, gold dusting the ends. Glitter coats his limbs and
neck and chest, and his shirt and painfully tight trousers are sequined—which is essentially the
same thing as glitter. Better still, he and Niall had decided that, in order to capture the proper
essence of glitter and its attaches-itself-to-literally-fucking-everything skills, Louis would have to
do just that. And so they stopped off at the corner market, purchased a large plastic bucket, all the
glitter they had in stock, and proceeded to poor said glitter into said bucket. They call it “Louis’
Stash” and somehow think they’re the cleverest souls in the kingdom.
Louis is throwing handfuls at oblivious passerby, at the sky, at the flowers and the sidewalks, and
Niall can’t stop laughing, and Louis can’t stop throwing.
“Stop!” Niall snorts hysterically as they climb the stairs to Zayn’s rooms, but that only makes
Louis throw bigger handfuls. “You’ll run out!” he insists, but Louis doesn’t hear him, and, finally,
they arrive at the top, Niall’s sunflower hair saturated in soft clumps of rainbow glitter that flecks
to the ground with his every move, some sticking to his milk carton.
“Laddy lads!” Louis immediately exclaims as he pushes the door open, and tosses a handful of
glitter upon entry.
Liam, oblivious as to what’s happening or why there’s now a pile of glitter on the floor, still smiles
animatedly, thrilled by everything Louis does.
“That’s brilliant!” he explains, and he’s a pirate, dressed all in black and leather, but he looks more
like a superhero with his broad chest and tight trousers, bar the eye patch.
Zayn’s beside him, smoking a cigar, and is effortlessly chic in a ‘20’s gangster suit, a terrifyingly
realistic machine gun in his hand. “I’m Al Capone,” he smiles, and offers a cigar to Niall, then to
Louis, grinning with what could only be a lot of martinis.
Harry’s not there of course, but Louis doesn’t really notice, not when he’s illuminated in the light
and Liam and Zayn fall into hysterics over Niall’s costume, which they only just register.
“He’s a bloody milk carton!” Liam exclaims, tearing at the eyes
Niall stands proud.
“What are you, Louis? The sky?”
“I’m glitter!” Louis exclaims, blowing a small handful into the air.
“Can I have some?” Zayn asks, and yeah, he’s drunk, but Louis is endeared by it as he dumps a
pinchful into Zayn’s awaiting pocket, his smile widened in excitement.
“Are you ready for the night, lads?” Louis shouts as Liam pours Zayn another glass of wine, eyes
still shining from his hysterical laughter.
“I’m readyyy,” Niall sings, clapping his hands in time, and Liam hands out wine glasses to the
others.