Crash Records || Larry Stylinson

1. Knackered Converse

"So you're going to wank over a thirty year old picture?"

"I'm never said I'm going to wank over it, she's just pretty."

"Shes just pretty," Liam mimicked Niall's Irish accent and over use of hand gestures.

"Can you two stop being children? I said no loud noises. You're going to wake up Paul," Louis whisper shouted, which is a skill he's become quiet good at. Suddenly his face dropped from an annoyed expression to a sacred one. His mouth widely hung open. "Oh no!" He gasped, "He's awake. Fucking hide, now!"

In amusement, Louis watched Niall squat behind crates of second hand vinyls, it hid his body but failed to cover his blonde quiff that stuck out like a sore thumb. Choosing the best hiding place, Zayn leaped behind the counter, that held the battered till. Whilst Liam picked up the nocked over CD stand and used it in attempt to cover his muscular body, he looked like a child hiding behind a floor lamp.

The blue eyed boy, cackled loudly as he looked at how ridiculous all his friends looked. "Oh my fucking god, you're all idiots!" He wiped the tears from his eyes, whilst still chortling. "Paul's not here. I always lock up on a Thursday, thought you guys knew that."

"Twat." "Prick." "Knob head." The three lads muttered as they embarrassingly came out of their hiding spots.

"I'm sorry, but that was fucking hilarious."

"I wouldn't go that far," Zayn rolled his eyes as he dusted the dust off his black jeans that bagged slightly at the knees. They all sorted themselves out and Liam even placed the CDs cases, that had fallen out of the rack, back in place. Everyone seemed to move past it but Zayn, "Hang on," he hummed. "You said Paul was downstairs when we first came in."

"Wow! Congrats, you figured out how a lie works," Louis snarked.

"Fuck off. I meant like you clearly planned it but, how did you know we would make noise?"

Before answering, Louis flung his arm out towards Niall, "There's noise wherever Niall is."

"Hey!" The blonde loudly protested

"See? Noise," Louis chuckled and then bunched up the sleeves of his black jumper, that had the classic white adidas stripes, striping diagonally across his upper arm. He clapped, urging the boys to listen to him, "Right then, did you get it?"

"Oh Um... yeah." Liam handed Louis a brown paper bag, which he eagerly took into his hands.

"Cookies! Nice," he took one out of the bag and chomped away at it whilst he talked, they all just ignored manners when they were around each other. "Honestly these are insane... remind me to go next door and tell Anne thanks. Anyway, I wasn't actaully on about the cookies when I said 'did you get it?'"

"Oh?"

"Are you serious?" Louis scoffed, "What do we always do on a Thursday and pretty much every day?"

"Oh shit, yeah!"

Now that they all knew Paul was not anywhere in the shop nor planning on visiting, they sprinted down the wooden steps, whooping and cheering as they passed through the lower level of the shop and into the break room. Exposed brick wall was partially wallpapered with popular and obscure posters of different bands. There was concert tickets and doodles also blue tacked to the walls. Covering the hard wood floor, a shaggy grey rug was diagonally place to protect them from splinters. On top of that rug was a dark varnished table. To an interior designer, they would think it was ghastly and as the wood work was rather Victorian and didn't match at all, but Louis loved it. It was odd, much like the rest of the room. The only thing that matched were the pair of sofas (that were also very peculiar and odd looking.) If you blurred your eyes, you would think that the tartan is a retro orangey-brown shade, but in reality it's just dirty.