Flightless Bird || l.s. ✔︎

ACT II: CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I'd never seen Gigi get hysterical. She was used to being in control but none of us could control Harry.

"Have you tried going to his flat?" I suggested. "Maybe you need to convince him face to face."

Liam shook his head. "I've already tried that. So has Kenneth. He won't budge."

"Well, neither will I," Maurice sniffed.

"Nor should you," I agreed.

Harry had gone too far but I couldn't say that I was surprised. "I told you, Liam. I told you he would be a nightmare and here we are!"

"Now is not the time to gloat," Eleanor scolded, holding up the bodice of her half-finished black tutu. "What are we going to do?"

I was fresh out of ideas but they all looked at me like I was the answer.

"Go see him, Louis," Liam pleaded. "You used to be best friends. You're the closest to him out of all of us."

I laughed. "We're not best friends anymore in case you haven't noticed."

"Liam's right," said Gigi. "Even if you two hate each other, he might be convinced by a dancer rather than the administration."

"I wouldn't say we hate each other," I huffed. "Hate is a strong word..."

"So, it's settled then. Louis will talk to Harry."

How did I get roped into this? I followed Liam into his office and he scribbled Harry's address down on a piece of paper. I recognized the building number from a recent issue of Architectural Digest. He lived in a luxury ten-story flat on the Thames.

I held up the paper. "Oi! How much are you paying him?"

Liam swiveled me around and pushed me out the door. "He's worth every penny. Now bring him back."

I sure as hell wasn't going to go on this mission alone. The second I left Liam's office I recruited Zayn, who was rehearsing his solo in Studio B.

Gamely, he agreed and we headed out of the Opera House together. Zayn was having a hard time getting back into the swing of things at work. He and Gigi ditched both of their families for the holidays and went on a two-week bender in Ibiza. He fell into a deep sleep on the tube. I doubted he would be much help. I should have brought Niall.

Harry's flat was right on the Thames. It was windier and colder there than the interior of the city but also more beautiful, a place where you could take in the London Eye, Big Ben and the Tate. All the things that made the city great.

His name wasn't on the buzzer. Next to his flat number, 10B, was a white rectangle where his name should have been. Maybe he wanted to protect his anonymity or maybe he just couldn't be bothered with those details. I bet a flat like this wasn't even big deal to him. I would take pride in a place like this, and the details, especially the details.

I cleared my throat and pressed the buzzer. I was nervous. Why was I nervous?

Harry's voice was deep and staticy on the other end. "Hello?"

"It's me. Louis."

Dead silence.

Zayn piped up. "I'm here too. It's Zayn."

Harry buzzed us up. I was hurt that he wouldn't let me up alone. I shouldn't have been. We hadn't exactly patched things up.

Harry opened the door. He was wearing nothing but soft, flannel pajama bottoms that hung tantalizingly low off his narrow hips. "What do you want?"