you're cold and I burn (on hold)

matter, I’m heading to the Artista Gallery now, how fast can your short legs get you there?”
“I can leave here in about fifteen, just hop in the shower for a quick scrub <strong>and</strong> I’ll be good t’go.”
He loves that Niall doesn’t press the situation further. But after their last argument it was the
smartest choice for him to make. It started as friendly banter, then moved to the whole money
situation, <strong>and</strong> as soon as Niall asked if Louis needed a bit of a loan from him, he lost his absolute
shit. No, he doesn’t want any h<strong>and</strong> outs. This place was where he l<strong>and</strong>ed based on his own
decisions, <strong>and</strong> he’s not about to syphon cash off of his friends. There it is again, that damn pride.
“Perfect, shoot me a text once you’ve arrived <strong>and</strong> I’ll come to meet you, <strong>and</strong> vice versa. Deal? I
could always look for a blonde quiff sticking up above everyone else, but I’m feeling particularly
lazy today.”
“Yeah, yeah. Deal.”
****
The art gallery is simply stunning, paintings covering the walls in massive precision <strong>and</strong> so much
talent is packed into this place its almost overwhelming. Louis adores it here, <strong>and</strong> at the same time
it makes his heart crumble to pieces because this is his dream. Everything he’s ever wanted in his
life is to have his work put on these walls. His name held up with the likes of extremely talented
artists. It’s a far cry, knowing there’s a one in a million chance that this would ever happen to him.
And those aren’t the best odds, he knows, but it’s worth a try. It’s full of intricate sculptures <strong>and</strong>
some of the weirdest shit to ever grace his eyes, but it’s so, so lovely. Almost breathtaking, <strong>and</strong> it
almost feels like home. No classroom, nor textbook, or cubicle office could ever compare to the
warm feeling he gets looking over every piece <strong>and</strong> admiring the work each person has put into
with sweaty h<strong>and</strong>s <strong>and</strong> sleepless nights.
Art is so beautiful.
Louis’ surprised he’s made it here before Niall, considering Niall has an actual car while Louis
depends his heart <strong>and</strong> soul on public transportation. He finds himself asking how quickly he’d die
if he walked straight into the busy traffic filled street when he glances at his phone <strong>and</strong> see’s the
inevitable missed call from his l<strong>and</strong>lord. Fuck, fuck, fuck. If he’s evicted he’s going to be calling a
cardboard box ‘home’ <strong>and</strong> the thought makes him instantly nauseous. He knew it was coming, he
was anticipating it <strong>and</strong> trying to wrack his brain for a good excuse. Because as much as he’d like
to believe, saying “I’m broke because I want to paint pictures instead of getting a job with a
paycheck, <strong>and</strong> daddy is not going to help me because he’s a proper fuckhead <strong>and</strong> I don’t want his
help anywhere near me.” just won’t work very well.
He hasn’t told his l<strong>and</strong>lord that he currently doesn’t have a job nor a steady source of income. He
also hasn’t told her that he wasn’t really planning on getting one either. He just wants to shoot her
a text that says, “I’ve fucked up, please don’t kick me out yet.” But, no.
The little voicemail icon’s popping onto his notifications bar, <strong>and</strong> since Niall still hasn’t messaged
him, it’s time to go ahead <strong>and</strong> listen to it, get it over with. His heart is starting race when he brings
the speaker to his ear, crossing his fingers tightly in his jean pocket.
“This call is for Louis Tomlinson. Good afternoon, this is Marice calling. I figured you were
expecting this considering I still have’t received the rent <strong>and</strong> it was due promptly on the third of
this month. Because I underst<strong>and</strong> that things come up, I’m going to allow you a bit more of a