Harry and Louis couldn't be any more different.
Louis grew up in a big mansion in the nice side of town. A million different rooms and a garden that seemed to go on for miles. His father was the top CEO of a company, Louis wasn't quite sure which considering he was barely around but he knew that he was one day going to inherit his riches. He lived his life without having to do a day of hard work, he spent it skateboarding or spending his parents money on whatever he pleased. He often also did modelling for different magazines, often underwear or swimwear. He had a good body and it wasn't a rare sight to see him without a shirt on. His parents hated this lifestyle he lived, they cared about him deeply and didn't enjoy watching their son parade around almost naked for millions of eyes to see and lavish upon, just the thought made them sick to their stomach. Especially when it comes to him modelling for gay magazines. They didn't necessarily hate him being gay, they just didn't agree with it. They wanted beautiful grandchildren, and plenty of them. But this however didn't seem very likely at all considering Louis had slept with a girl once and it was the most least pleasant experience of his life, too many annoying high pitch screams and nails and it just wasn't Louis' idea of fun. They would never admit their homophobic thoughts out loud though, even though everybody knew it. Including Louis.
Harry on the other hand was the complete opposite to Louis. He was lucky in the fact that his parents were greatly accepting of his bisexuality. He grew up in a tightly cramped, working class family but he was happy. His family were the most important part of his life and he felt like he didn't need anyone else as long as he had them. It was a good life.
However, it was a good life up until about three years ago when he was just sixteen. Harry thought that life couldn't get any better, he had a smoking hot girlfriend and an apprenticeship in computing and his future looked bright. Up until their 1 year anniversary when his girlfriend told him she was pregnant and soon left him completely liable for the child almost as soon as it was born. His world soon started to crumble, he had to move out of his parents house because the house was way too small to hold a new born baby and he had to quit his apprenticeship in order to make more time for his new child. He was heartbroken, his life was literally falling apart. He decided to name his new born baby daughter Maisy and took a new job at the coffee shop around the corner. It didn't bring in the best pay checks but the hours were flexible enough to balance a job and his daughter. It wasn't easy to make ends meet but he was managing. Just.
Now, two years later he continued to work at the coffee shop while Maisy was at nursery and was completely working his fingers to the bone to try and give Maisy the best he possibly could. She'd be turning three soon and she was becoming a handful. The stress and loneliness that the last three years had brought led Harry down a road that he wasn't proud of, he didn't admit it to anyone. His brain worked overtime and he had first broken down around two years ago after a hard shift. He was on a warning from his boss that if he didn't get his act together soon he'd have to find another job and the shakiness of his hands caused by the anxiety he was feeling caused him to drop a boiling hot coffee pot all over himself and the customer. The customer was very accepting and helped Harry clean everything up but the thoughts of how good the pain felt flooded Harry's mind. That's all he could concentrate on for days on end. The pain. His arm soon blistered and due to his continuous picking of the wound Harry is now the proud owner of a large pink scar on his forearm. Not that it is the only scar he has though, he just couldn't stop his thoughts spinning around his head. He finally found relief and felt somewhat peaceful when he decided he was going to harm himself on purpose. it was only scratches at first, up and down his arm. However this soon led to him feeling the need for more. He deserved to be hurting, he needed to do this to himself. Today his arms are littered with white and pink scars from the years worth of knifes and razors that are hidden in his wardrobe. Nobody knows though, he would never be caught in short sleeves. Apart from around the house but Maisy was too young to understand, "silly daddy fell again" Harry would claim time after time, followed by Maisy giving him a big hug and claiming that she has the clumsiest daddy in the whole world.
Harry couldn't help it. He'd become addicted. It was his way out. The only way out he had. He couldn't admit these things to his parents, he had them convinced that he and Maisy were doing just fine and that he didn't need their help. He refused to take money off them, no matter how much the pair needed it. He'd be a failure if he did that. He wouldn't allow his family to worry about him, even though it was the third night this week that he had gone to bed hungry because he couldn't afford food to feed them both. As Maisy sat there without a care in the world, munching on her chicken nuggets Harry sat opposite her with his stomach screaming. He was her priority, she needed the food. Harry didn't. He'd work extra hard tomorrow and earn enough tips for a meal he promised himself. The same promise he makes every night and breaks the day after.
He had officially hit rock bottom.
