Young & Beautiful

“What do you mean it gives you something to do? Am I chopped liver? Are you going to be at
practice all the time now while I’m at home, alone and bored?” Louis nearly screeches, hand
splayed over his heart. He might be a touch offended. But if he were asked, he'd deny it.
“You’ve got your new friends. You'll be fine.”
“Be that as it may, I really don’t appreciate just being abandoned. I’m not one of those people who
finds new friends and ditches their old friends.”
A Cheshire-cat grin spreads immediately upon Niall's lips, eyes caught in a glint. “You just said
we’re friends,” he smirks, pointing an accusatory finger.
Fuck.
“No I did not,” Louis immediately responds, looking away as if struck. “You misconstrued my
sentence. I meant…" He struggles for words momentarily, before finally settling with a," Shut up,
Niall. I was just saying that you should come to the party and not join the rowing team because
everybody on it is a prat.”
“I’ll go next time, all right?”
“But I can’t go alone! I need somebody to talk to! I need somebody to cry with!”
“Yeah, no, I'm definitely not going then," he chuckles.
“Come on! Please? Please??”
“I promise next time I’ll go. I promise,” Niall says with as much sincerity as he’s allowed, before
averting his eyes back to the TV screen, controller back in hand.
“All right. Fine. That’s fine. I understand. I’m going to text you the whole time and send you
pictures of my tears, but it’ll be fine.”
“It’ll be fine,” Niall agrees.
**
When Sunday arrives, Louis still hasn’t heard from Liam.
“He was obviously just texting me to be polite. You were right all along, Niall. He’s a swindler. A
right phony. With no moral fiber whatsoever.”
He’s currently pacing around the flat, only breaking his stride to occasionally jump on Niall (who
is lying on the floor, strumming his guitar and burping the lyrics to “Danny Boy”) and scream
panicked obscenities in his face.
Which he does now.
“IT’S ONLY THE FIRST WEEK AND I’VE ALREADY BEEN REJECTED!!” he screeches,
pouncing on Niall and grabbing his face between his hands.
Niall blinks up at him between squished cheeks, the guitar uttering a sad twang at the impact.
“You can come rowing with me?”
Louis releases Niall’s face and glares down at him. “Honestly, Niall, sometimes I wonder if you
just speak to hear your voice. NO, I WILL NOT GO ROWING WITH YOU.” He sniffs and
disengages himself from the boy. “I have more class than that.”