The Project [Louis]

Chapter Three (Or Dear God, Child, You have a Contract)

a/n: 175 in short story omg how even?? that's my highest rank ever i love you all so much
ps. it's almost my birthday

"I said you'd be in some deep shit. Did I not, Liam? I said he would get in some deep shit." Niall says loudly. It's ten in the morning following my call with the Modest! worker last night and I've just told Liam and Niall, who're the only two awake besides me and the bus driver.

"Be quiet. You're going to wake Zayn." I say before Liam can confirm what Niall said. "I'm not going to be in trouble. What's the worst they can do to me?"

"Fire you? Set you on fire?" Harry says as he walks into the kitchen-like thing on our bus.

"You're not funny." I roll my eyes at Harry as he tries to not laugh at his own bad joke.

"Anyway, back to... whatever we were talking about." I wave my hand around.

"You're going to be fired?" Niall suggests in a friendly tone, taking a swig out of the milk carton. Remind me not to drink that milk.

"Oh yeah. Well, I'm not going to be fired." I re-inform him, just in case he had forgotten.

"If you are, then the bus'll be loads quieter." Now Zayn walks in, grumbling at me. Or in my general direction. This early in the morning he usually just feels his way around.

"Honestly, guys. It'll be fine." I reassure them, taking a swig out of the orange juice carton. Harry makes a face at me but doesn't comment.

+

"This is anything but fine!" One of the two balding men in suits who're here in Glendale for our promised meeting yells at me. One of them is wearing a blue tie and one is wearing a red tie.

"Honestly guys. It'll be fine." I mummer, recounting my argument with the guys this morning, but this time I'm standing outside the back of a luxury hotel with two middle-aged men

"You have -"

"A contract. I know." I sigh. "So you've said multiple times."

This is not the first time that my contract has been up. Having a bad day and I'm accidentally rude to a fan? The contract. I get drunk in public? Oh, but I've got a contract. Niall gave me one too many hot dogs, took me on a roller coaster and I threw up in a garbage can, therefore making a fool of myself in public? Louis William Tomlinson, you've got a bloody contract. It's insane. But, then again, that bloody contract has made me into a twenty-two year old multi-millionaire, so I can't complain.

"Louis. Are you even listening?" One of the men pulls me out of my mental damning the two of them to hell.

"Mm hm." I blink.

"If this happens again, we'll have to cut your pay."

"Oh no! So, from like a billion dollars a month to only a million? Don't do this to me!" I say dramatically. Who am I to care if my pay is cut while I'm stuffed in a bus for five months straight? The only things I need to buy at the moment are cigs, souvenirs and occasional booze.

"We're your superiors -"

"And I'm worth more than both your houses put together." I snap, "You're always telling me to interact more with our fans, and now I am."

"But not like this." The man with a blue tie says, just as my phone starts buzzing in my pocket.

"It'll be fine." I repeat, taking my phone out of my pocket.

"We'll talk more later." The red tie man says before huffing out a cigar-scented breath.

"Hello?" I put the phone to my ear, ignoring the grumbling men.