Young & Beautiful

It’s great, really. Splendid, even.
So Louis texts Niall.
‘THAT FUCKER IS ACTING LIKE I DON’T EXIST. HE’S IGNORING ME !!!!!’
Soon his phone alights.
‘Congrats! Goal accomplished! Have fun mate x’
And no, that wasn’t helpful at all.
But Niall is right. He is. Louis needs to appreciate being ignored by the single most repulsive
human being on the planet.
So, stuffing his cheeks with chocolate, Louis stands up and joins them around the piano, Liam still
playing, his lily draped on his lap, and Zayn sat next to him still clutching his, Harry (who now
has one in his button hole as well as in his fist) and the prostitutes engulfing them.
“You should try them out. They’re lovely,” Harry says, petting the girls beneath their chins as they
coo.
And fuck no, he better not be talking about those girls like that.
Zayn shakes his head with a light laugh. “We’re not interested in your girls, Harry. They’re all
yours.”
Okay, fuck. That is it. No more restraint.
“You do realize those are people and not objects, Curly? And they’re not to be ‘tried out’?” Louis
bites, folding his arms and staring hard at Harry.
Harry’s grin freezes, eyes fixed on one of the girls. His expression transforms to one of complete
annoyance, but he doesn’t look at Louis.
The blonde cranes her head to look at Harry, clearly unimpressed, and not-so-subtly asks with
distaste, “Who’s that?”
“Nobody,” Harry snaps, then returns his gaze to the piano.
Louis’ tendons seize. His temper flares. And he begins a slow and steady mantra in his head: ‘I
will not attack Harry Styles. I will not attack Harry Styles. I will not attack Harry Styles.’
It’s not calming him at all, but it is preventing him from smashing his face in the dirt.
The conversation continues, Louis firmly excluded; once in awhile Liam will ask him a polite
question, features set in a smile. His answer is usually cut short by Harry however, who manages
to fill the space with superficial, ridiculous comments (at one point he drawls “I want to get drunk
and look at myself” to one of the girls) and only agitates Louis further.
“What happened to Cleopatrick?” Louis suddenly asks, glaring full on at the bastard.
Harry sips his wine and stares at the sky.
“Zayn found him the perfect home,” Liam smiles. “He was even able to keep his name!”
“Was he?” Harry suddenly asks, seeming genuinely delighted.