Chapter 2.

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"I'm always stickin' up for you, Louis." Niall giggles, rubbing Louis' arm.

"Thanks." He says, his eyes on Harry.

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"Smashed it boys!" Niall exclaims, pulling the three of them into a hug. "Smashed it!"

They'd been off air no longer than a few minutes, still slightly dazed and disorientated by the harsh studio lights. To be fair, they had smashed it. They'd handled the awkward questions about Zayn with a practiced ease, Liam taking the brunt of it, like he always did with questions nobody really wanted to answer.

The only really stilted moment being James's incessant quizzing of Louis' regular clubbing and partying. It was obvious James was trying to accentuate the point that Louis was single and definitely ready to mingle. Louis' used to this line of questioning, just never directed at him. Harry's spent the good part of five years being bombarded with questions about his love life, jokes about him being a womaniser, a home wrecker, shagging anything with a pulse. Louis' remembers having to sit there and listen to it, absolutely itching to jump in and tell the interviewer to fuck off. That Harry wasn't like that, not even close. Louis can't help but wonder if Harry felt that same urge to protect him, watching Louis squirm under James's questioning. Another part of him wonders if Harry believes it. If Harry thinks Louis really is sleeping with a different girl every night. It isn't like Louis has given him any reason to doubt it.

"Good job, lads. You were all great." Speaks one their PR people, patting them each on the back.

Louis really detests their PR people, their handlers and the higher-ups in suits. Individually, he's sure they're perfectly lovely, but what they stand for makes his blood boil. They're the people responsible for creating this warped and twisted version of themselves that the public get to see. The people who've dragged Louis' and the other boys' names and reputations through the dirt for a few extra figures on album sales charts.

He fucking dreaded meetings with them, still does now. It's never, ever a good thing to be called in to their offices. More often than not it'd been him and Harry sitting opposite them at a desk, being "strongly advised" to "tone down this whole 'bromance' thing." Louis remembers laughing at them, rolling his eyes at Harry. There was nothing to tone down, neither of them had been aware there was a 'bromance thing.'

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Louis had bit back, "Why don't any of the other boys have to tone anything down?"

Harry was always quiet, fiddling with his sleeves and refusing to make eye contact. Sometimes Louis wanted to shake him, why won't you say something, stick up for us? It was always left to Louis, fighting battles for the both of them. Battles he shouldn't have had to fight in the first place. Stupid things like being allowed to sit next to Harry in signings, or mentioning him on Twitter.

"It's just not good for the bands image, Louis." Some higher-up had told him. "Not with your target audience."

He remembers one particularly awful meeting where they'd brought evidence to back up their claims; a few short clips of the boys in interviews. The first was them being interviewed by some Irish journalist that was trying much too hard to be matey with them.

All the boys were pressed together on a sofa, a bit restless and not really taking the interview seriously. They'd been asked about picking up girls, obviously, and Harry had said something stupid about how watching sad films lead to kissing.

Louis' remembers the pang of jealously in his stomach, picturing Harry cosying up to somebody that wasn't him. He'd thought about all the times Harry and him had laid around together on their sofa, or in each others beds, watching cheesy films. How they'd always be draped over each other, holding each other close because the heating never worked in their flat.

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