Young & Beautiful

VII
Chapter Summary
Harry Styles hosts a party. Judgment ensues.
Chapter Notes
I made up a lot of Harry's tattoos because this is AU! Some are based off reality, but
most aren't. Because, well...I could go into it but that would be dull. So, I'm aware
that he doesn't have the described tattoos. I'm just painting a picture.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Louis arrives to the party forty-five minutes late, his brand new—and very fetching, he must say—
trunks underneath his jeans, wearing Niall’s white polo which he grabbed last minute. (What can
he say? The boy’s got some good clothes. They’re few and far between, but they do exist.) He’s
in the right place—he said Harry’s name at the front desk and they seemed to know what he was
talking about—and it’s absolutely gorgeous inside, even if he doesn’t recognize a soul.
The pool is indoors, surrounded by crystal clear glass windows that arch and reach to the sky. The
walls are limitless and cream colored, the pool is vast and sparkling, and beautiful vines with
brightly colored flowers paint the corners of the room, perfuming the chlorine scented air.
It reeks of wealth and over-indulgence.
Sure, it’s lovely. But it's also wasteful and Louis feels really fucking out of place with his Tom’s
and judgmental eyes.
Girls and boys wearing their finest swimwear, holding cocktail glasses, tumblers of rum, and
champagne flutes, screech and squeal as they splash each other in the pool, making Vines on their
iPhones and posing for Instagram pics.
Louis sort of wants to set them all on fire. And damn, they’d light up fast with all that liquor
strewn about.
Near the pool is a fountain, possibly crafted by giants, spewing out what looks to be pastel pink
water. Which—why the fuck? And, oh yes, there are people in there, too. They’re splashing and
spewing up tinkling laughter and drunkenly balancing on the edge in heels and…appear to be
drinking it. All right, then. So there's that.
“If that’s a fountain of champagne, I swear to god,” Louis mumbles under his breath.
But the scene only gets worse.
Because just as Louis is on the verge of considering walking out (there are servers swooping
around with caviar smeared on crackers and there’s an entire room dedicated to smoking cigars
and watching a footie game—come the fuck on now) Louis spots Harry Styles.