Sixth Degree

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And the sixth, is when you admit that you may have fucked up a little"

SIXTH DEGREE

The glow of Louis's computer screen filled his dark office with a blueish hue. It was another late night at work. All the other employees had already left for the day, leaving just him and the janitor behind. Louis busied himself by listening to Conner's singing demo. Part of him wanted it to be bad— he wanted it to be absolute trash, actually. But as much as it pained him to admit it, it was good.

Tomorrow, he'd meet Conner for the first time. He wanted to keep it professional, but it was difficult. He couldn't stop thinking about him and Harry— or rather, the press couldn't stop talking about him and Harry. Louis couldn't escape it. Their faces were plastered on the cover of every magazine, showing pictures of them snogging in public, calling them this year's "hottest Hollywood couple."

Louis listened to Conner's songs through his headphones, head bobbing to the music. He knew immediately that Conner was talented, truthfully. He was an amazing songwriter and had already mastered the top-40's pop music formula. He had a smooth, sweet, versatile voice. Louis knew he could make a lot of money by signing him to their label— and yet, the thought of working with Harry's new boyfriend made him sick.

Just then, there was a sharp ding on his phone. Louis looked over to see a text message from Harry. His body froze in shock as he read it.

From Harry: hey, can we talk?

Louis's throat tightened, like there was a boa constrictor around his neck, suffocating him. He inhaled a sharp breath and quickly typed back a reply. He didn't want to come across as too desperate, so he tried to play it off casually.

To Harry: sure. what's up?

He stared at his screen in his dimly-lit office. He watched the grey typing bubbles carefully.

From Harry: can I call you?

Louis simply gave a thumbs up emoji in response— cool and casual, he thought. He didn't want Harry to think he was desperate. Didn't want Harry to know that he still dreamt of him sometimes. Didn't want Harry to know that he regretted how they ended, and he often stayed up awake at night, wondering what he could've done differently. Didn't want Harry to know that he nearly turned red with jealousy every time he saw a paparazzi picture of him and Conner online.

No, he didn't want Harry to know any of that.

After a few seconds, his phone rang with Harry's name glowing on his screen. He slid his thumb over to answer.

"Hello?" Louis said.

There was a pause. "Hey," Harry spoke softly, voice rough and gravely. "Thanks for talking to me."

Louis bit his lip. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Harry cleared his throat. "So, listen, I know you have a meeting with my boyfriend tomorrow. And I just— I really love him, Louis. I want to make sure you're fair to him and don't use what happened between us as some kind of grudge."

Louis fell silent for a few seconds, processing. Harry loved Conner. That was big.

"You think I'd do that?" Louis asked, surprised. "You think I won't sign him because you're dating him? C'mon, Harry. That's ridiculous."

"This is really important to him, Louis."

"I'm sure it is."

"I just don't want to be the reason he missed this opportunity because of... our history."

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