Young & Beautiful

They’ve arrived in a fluster of camera flashes and cologne and Louis feels so fucking out of place
it isn’t even funny.
He tries to ask Niall if Zayn and Liam are coming, but he doesn’t hear him, is instead whisked
away by white-toothed business men who clasp his hand as they pass him around, assessing him
and throwing congratulations upon him. Niall’s never looked happier, his handshakes strong and
unyielding, his smile ever present, and his witty banter confidently sparring with the stiffest shirts
there. He charms everybody, as he always does, and it’s not long before Louis’ lost him
altogether.
So he stands by the food most of the night, stuffing his face with hors d’oeuvres and slinging back
champagne. He texts Liam and Zayn—no, they’re not coming, instead opting for “date night”
(Louis might have retched) and so Louis promptly decides that all hope is lost and decides to eat
his feelings.
It’s a glamorous party—startlingly glamorous—and there are celebrities peppering the mix, but it
all feels so…empty. And Louis really couldn’t give a fuck about any of it, so he guzzles escargot
and quail eggs, wishing he were at home surrounded by his sisters, wearing sweatpants, and
playing video games.
His pants are digging into his stomach. They’re itchy too. And his shoes are too tight.
Basically, everything’s shit.
That is, until Nick Grimshaw arrives, followed by Des Styles.
And Harry.
Louis almost chokes on an oyster.
“The guests of honor,” a smiley faced bloke mutters into the microphone onstage, and a ripple of
laughter flows through the room as a few hands clap and a few smiles shine brighter and a few
eyes calculate closer. Everybody’s jewelry glints beneath the lights and there’s so much black and
so much lipstick and so much perfume. There’s just so much.
And amidst all of that is Nick Grimshaw—basically a walking stick with a dollop of hair and lots
of teeth—laughing winningly as he enters the hall wearing a pink suit and checkered scarf, and
Des Styles, wearing a surly smirk beneath black eyes and a charcoal gray suit with cufflinks that
look like they could support a small family.
And then there’s Harry.
Which…for some reason, it didn’t occur to Louis that he would be here. But of course he would
—it’s his father’s track, after all. How could Louis not have realized??
In any case, there he is.
Harry, wearing faded bruises and a bitten smile as he watches his father, clapping lightly (almost
timidly) and resplendent in gray tweed and blue satin, a green carnation in his buttonhole. His hair
is styled and curled perfectly, tossed to the side and looking damn near edible, it’s so perfect. He’s
long and pale and beautiful and…
It’s been so long since Louis has seen him. He’s heard his name in the hallways almost every day,
he’s heard rumors of his goings-about, he’s seen those pictures on Facebook, but. It’s been so long
since Louis has seen him in person.