"Come on, you're going to lose him in the crowd, Louis." The impatient voice of his partner filled his ear through the small earbud. Louis lifted up his arm to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, but his arm froze midair as he cringed to himself. He didn't have long hair anymore. Those days had passed, and old habits should have died already.
"What are you standing around for?" Niall hissed, making a lot more white noise than necessary, making Louis flinch lightly and curse under his breath.
"I'm going, I'm going. Where is he?"
"On the west balcony with his two body guards, and some random lady. You'll have to get her away from there before you can talk to him."
Louis huffed, annoyed, before fixing his white tuxedo top and red tie. He was stuck in the middle of a posh banquet meant for heirs of hotel chains and huge amounts of money where everyone attempted to be serious and sophisticated for the sake of business (and marriage) deals. Yes, arranged marriage in high society in 2015. Gods knew, that all these 20-something year olds spent their lifes throwing their parents money right and left, getting wasted and making random girls pregnant. His target wasn't any different - except for swinging both ways, which was Louis' advantage tonight.
He made his way through the crowd, muttering apologies as he bumped into a lady wearing red or stepping on the foot of a not very sober red head who looked like he had puked on himself.
"Ew." Tomlinson muttered to himself when he finally got away from the drunkard. The stench of undigested shrimp and cognac didn't leave his nose, and for a moment he was pretty sure his tuxedo would be ruined too.
At last he walked up the stairs, grabbing a glass of champagne from the closest officiant. He took a sip and let a smug smile appear on his face while pulling out a pair of black, designer sunglasses out of his pocket and putting them on. He walked over to the two bodyguards, slightly swaying his hips and making his wrist limp.
"Congratulations on becoming a stereotype." Niall chuckled into his ear, but Louis didn't react. He pulled out a fake business card out of his tuxedo chest pocket and almost threw it in the face of the bodyguards. "Let me through now, I've got important business with Mister Malik, you wouldn't want to make him wait and piss him off, would you now, Darling?" He said, taking a sip of his champagne and cocking his hip. Niall was losing his mind in the van, and Louis was having a hard time keeping himself away from cursing then and there. The body guards finally moved aside, and Louis walked past them on to the balcony.
The night was cool and the sky was clear. As soon as the door closed behind Louis and the curtains closed, it felt like he was in a whole different world. But as much as he'd like to daydream, he had a job. The balcony was lit up by antique lanterns and the only other people on it was a couple. A man in a black tuxedo and white hair, standing up in a quiff and a woman with long, dark hair flowing over her shoulders. The man was whispering something to her, making her giggle.
Louis took another sip of the champagne. It was warm and disgusting. Before he could think about it, he made a gagging noise, startling the pair, who turned to him.
'Fuck, shit.' He thought to himself, trying to get back into character before something went wrong.
"Ah, for an event like this, you'd think the service would be better. And the drinks are..." He poured the rest of the drink over the side of the balcony and placed the glass on the edge of it. "You could certainly wish for better."
He took a few steps forward to the duo and handed the man another business card. At the sight of the small item, the woman lost her interest. She whispered something into the man's ear, who nodded and watched her walk away.
