you're cold and I burn (on hold)

Every one is dressed in suits <strong>and</strong> fancy cocktail dresses <strong>and</strong> the place smells like expensive
perfume <strong>and</strong> money.
The sound of heels connecting with the expensive marble tiles is loud <strong>and</strong> annoying, Louis much
preferring a pair of sneakers <strong>and</strong> some crumbled concrete. His dad is popping out from an
especially uptight group of people, Louis can tell by the way their noses sneer up at Liam’s lastyear
shoes. Louis debates saying something to them, but chooses not to, only because it isn’t
worth his time.
“Louis, Liam, you both look very nice.” His dad puts on a smile, the wrinkles beside his eyes
coming into view, Louis’ face remains neutral.
“Thank you.” Liam smiles <strong>and</strong> Louis rolls his eyes, “When’s dinner starting?” He blurts out,
taking a glass of champagne from the waiter walking by with a tray.
“Always a delight, Louis.” The sarcasm drips from every syllable, his father’s eyes giving him a
silent warning, which Louis ignores whole-heartedly. When his father is sure Louis isn’t going to
reply, he continues, more annoyed, “You can have a seat with the other lads, over there,” He
points to a table, mostly everyone around Louis <strong>and</strong> Liam’s age.
Louis nods, taking down the rest of his champagne <strong>and</strong> h<strong>and</strong>ing his father the empty glass, “Cool,
see you around.”
“Hey,” His dad hisses between clenched teeth, “be professional, these people aren’t like your
trashy friends, you got it?”
“The only difference between my friends <strong>and</strong> these people are that my friends are actually
enjoyable to be around.” Louis replies, voice just as venomous, “And I’ll act the way I fucking
want to, I don’t even want to be here.” He finishes, walking away to leave his father with his
mouth hanging wide open.
These fancy shoes are too tight on his feet <strong>and</strong> now he’s irritated, tempted to walk right out the
door <strong>and</strong> not look back. The only reason he isn’t is because Harry just bought him this suit <strong>and</strong>
he’s going to wear it, even if it kills him. The other lads don’t even blink when Louis takes a seat,
continuing on their conversation like he was invisible. Liam is still st<strong>and</strong>ing next to his dad, likely
trying to calm him down from the pissed state Louis had left him in. Good.
Plates are laid out with fancy as fuck silverware. To be honest, he has no idea which is the soup
spoon or whatever they call it, <strong>and</strong> he wishes he cared even slightly, but he doesn’t. He pulls out
his phone, sending a message to Niall about how much he already hates this whole dinner, before
sliding it back in <strong>and</strong> joining into the conversation going on around the table.
There’s a boy with slick back, silver blonde hair, his eyes brows are perfectly plucked <strong>and</strong> his suit
tightly tailored, he looks <strong>and</strong> talks like an asshole. But, everyone around the table seems to love
him, listening intently on his stories, “So, I tell the guy, having the cheapest model Rolex is just as
bad as having a dollar store one, so don’t act like you’re one of us.” Everyone around laughs, <strong>and</strong>
Louis scrunches his face, what the fuck?
“Hilarious, why even try?” A kid with red-hair chimes in. “Royce, you have no filter.”
So, Royce is the blonde kid’s name, interesting enough. They still haven’t acknowledged Louis’
presence, <strong>and</strong> the waiters are coming around with the first course of the meal. Louis’ not phased,
picking up whichever fork his h<strong>and</strong>s finds first to dig in. It’s a teriyaki salmon filet, a bit over
cooked <strong>and</strong> mediocre, but Louis downs it anyway, he’s practically starving. Rich restaurant with
basic cooking, Louis’ surprised it’s not marinated in gold, it probably costs as much.