this side of paradise l.s.

chapter ix.

this chapter isn't funny at all. i don't know where all this angst came from.

this chapter is dedicated to "Holy Ground" by Taylor Swift because that song makes me horny in a non-sexual way.

²⁸ ⃤

"and if you're in love, then you are the lucky one
'cause most of us are bitter over someone
setting fire to our insides for fun
to distract our hearts from ever missing them"

—youth, daughter

²⁸ ⃤

Harry felt pinned to place by Simon’s eyes, like a butterfly hung up by its wings on a corkboard, to be analyzed and torn apart for the sake of scientific observation. The room was startling quiet as his PR team and lawyers let Harry absorb the information they shot at him rapid-fire. His mind was still reeling from the words, the terms and conditions he would have to agree to, but a new emotion pushed itself into Harry’s chest, drowning out the rest of his thoughts: indignation. 

“Why?” He finally managed to get out after a long pause. 

The representative on Taylor’s team, a black-haired man named Jonas or something like that, looked taken aback by Harry’s question. He cleared his throat. “Well, as we just explained, it would be beneficial for the two of you to enter a PR relationship-”

“But why?”

Jones glanced back at the other men, who shot him equally confused looks. “Because, with your third album coming out, we can boost your-”

“Why, though?”

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” Simon snapped, his voice cold enough to make Harry nervous. He was sitting at the head of the conference table, his hands steepled together like a cartoon villain. Or, more accurately, Harry felt like a child being reprimanded by their parent, and he despised that feeling. 

He fiddled with the beaded bracelets that Louis pointed out made him look like a sixteen-year-old girl in a Disney rom-com (as if Louis had any room to talk, he knew all the words to the High School Musical: 2 soundtrack), desperately searching for something to say. It was unfair to do this to him when he was so close to telling Louis how he felt. Sure, he forgot earlier this morning, when Louis made him an elaborate meal of cold Cheerios, studying him when he thought Harry wasn’t looking. But that was only because Louis looked so soft in the mornings, with his hair fluffy and free of gel, a three o’clock shadow on his jaw because he was too lazy to shave. By the time Harry remembered about his confession, it was too late. He had already left to go to his meeting with Simon, and Louis had stayed behind, none the wiser. It was so easy being in love with Louis that Harry often forgot that Louis wasn’t aware that he was. 

(Although, in all honesty, it was Louis’ fault for not realizing this himself. Harry had once worn a “Harry <3 Louis” shirt a fan gifted to him with the widest grin on his face, and even now he still kept it in the back of his closet. Even his dentist knew, and Harry hadn’t had a checkup in six months.)

It’s this thought that pushed the words out of Harry’s mouth. “You - you can’t do that.” His heart was beating so hard, it was hard to hear his own voice. Harry didn’t know what expression he was making, but it made Simon sigh. “You said that I wouldn’t have to-”

“I know what I said,'' Simon cut in, not exactly gentle but not as strict as before, “and I’m sorry for doing this, but you have a responsibility towards the band that’s more important than your personal feelings on the matter. It would really benefit One Direction to cement a fanbase in the States and boost album sales. It won’t be forever, just for a few months. Maybe more. I know this is outside your comfort level, but you cannot expect to succeed in this industry if you continue to play it safe.”