Young & Beautiful

screen highlighting the creases of anxiety etching his face, and Niall banging out a steady beat
with his pen on the tabletop, pretending to read his notes. Because the fifth chair at their table—the
chair that resides in the corner, edged by the bookshelves and thick, wooden walls marked with
scratches from centuries past—is empty. Because that’s Harry’s self-appointed chair. The one that
he demands to sit in because it’s “romantic and lonesome and just detached enough to remain
poetic.” And while Louis had scoffed at the explanation at the time—threw an eraser at the boy’s
head even, which earned him a scowl and a crumpled ball of paper to the face—he sort of
understands it now, watching it lie in its shaded solitude, forgotten and forlorn in the corner. He’s
almost tempted to sit in it just to dispel the pure loneliness it’s procuring. Almost.
It’s as Louis is lost in his thoughts, still staring at the empty chair, that a wizened, posh looking
gentleman ambles along and stops abruptly as he sees Liam.
“Liam Payne!” he greets, as Liam’s stress soaked gaze looks up, startled. The man grins down, his
ironed trousers and crisp jacket contrasting with the lads’ synchronized uniforms of heavy cotton
and polyester. “William Payne’s boy, correct?”
Liam’s face immediately splits into a practiced grin, his mannerisms clipping into utter perfection.
“Right you are, sir,” he smiles, standing up and shaking the man’s hand with gusto.
“Your father’s been telling us about how well you’ve done in your courses this term.”
Liam laughs tinklingly, shrugging his shoulders modestly. “Well, I certainly hope so. I do like to
keep my marks up to the best of my abilities.”
The man smiles approvingly, assessing Liam with old, elitist eyes. Louis sort of wants to squirt his
water bottle in his face.
“Your father says you’ve been excelling at the student newspaper. We’re proud of our university’s
paper—it’s got a reputation to uphold. As I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Yes, sir.”
Louis rolls his eyes.
“He tells me that you might take over in his shoes sooner than we think.” This is probably meant
as a compliment, but Liam looks more terrified than anything. “We’re all looking forward to your
work this year, Liam. You never disappoint.”
Liam laughs again, slightly manical, while the man smiles on, completely oblivious. “And I hope I
never do!” Liam laughs politely, eyes crinkling.
He nods one last time, before clapping Liam on the back. “I best be off. Send your father my
regards.”
“Of course, sir. Have a good day, sir.”
As soon as the man is gone, Liam falls into his chair, eyes wide, dark, and panicked. “My father is
talking about me??” he hisses. “What has he been saying?! How am I supposed to work under all
of this pressure? Why the fuck would he do that to me?!”
Louis hadn’t seen Liam’s uncollected side up until recently. And, quite frankly, he finds it
hilarious. He sniggers as Liam’s face pales with each frantic word that spills from his lips.
“It’s cuz he’s proud of you,” Zayn purrs seamlessly in response, looking up from his book.