Photographs. //Larry Stylinson// {Co-written with @ilovehazza19}

Chapter One.

They say time is just a bunch of frozen moments. A bunch of photographs, if you will. People say you can piece together someone's entire life through little random images. Moments that might even seem insignificant, could in fact, turn out to be the moments you remember when on your death bed. I never could've imagined the power of the photograph, and if someone would've told me a couple of images from my childhood, would change the course of my entire life forever, I probably would've laughed right in their faces. But perhaps this is a more of a story of fate. Either way, one thing I've learned, is to never underestimate the power of a frozen image.

 

Louis' POV:

"Good morning London! It's going to be a day full of scattered showers throughout the day, so hold on to your umbrellas!" My alarm clicked on, and a voice much too chirpy and eager for this hour talked away. I groaned, rolling over and slapping the top of the clock with my hand, thankfully shutting it off. I'll never be a morning person.

"Well fuck." I said to myself, rubbing my face in my hands, slowly waking up as the sunlight drained in from my window, hitting my eyes. Today was my first day teaching at the local high school. In fact, it was my first day of teaching in my entire career. I just finished getting my English teaching degree at Uni, and since it was already half way through the school year, I figured I'd have no job until next school year. I was honestly thrilled about the little break to relax before real official adult life hit me, but a simple phone call two weeks ago changed those plans. The principal at the high school had offered me a job, explaining their eleventh grade English teacher, Mrs. Rose had to quit, due to a pregnancy of triplets. And while I was glad I wasn't the one about to pop out three screaming babies, I was jealous she got to sit on her ass and not work. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to start teaching, but I can't help but to be overwhelmed with nerves. If the students hate me, that'll make for an awful job.

I yawned, sitting up at the edge of my king sized bed and stretching my arms up high. Well, if I don't get ready now, I never will. I shuffled to my bathroom, pushing back the blue shower curtain and turning the water on to the hottest setting. I dropped my boxer briefs to the floor and started brushing my teeth, waiting for my shower to heat up. I spat in the sink and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I stepped into the now steaming shower, and began to mentally and physically prepare myself for my first day of my teaching career.

Harry's POV:

"Harry! Get up! You're going to be late again!" My mum called loudly from downstairs a second time. I knew by her second warning, I better be up, or I'd have to face Mrs. Johnson's wrath for being late in my first period. It was just another day, a Wednesday to be exact, and I wasn't excited to go to school. In fact, I hated nearly every second of it. I wasn't popular, and I wasn't exactly anyone special, especially because of my most recent revelation last year. After pushing the very thought to the back of my head, I finally came to the conclusion that I'm gay, and there's no running away from it. So, I came out my Sophomore year. First to my mum, who held me as I sniffled in the kitchen, wiping away my tears and telling me she really has known all along. My sister Gemma was the second, and although she throws a couple butt sex jokes my way as any sibling would, she loves and supports me, and I'm grateful for it.

Outside the home; that was a different scenario. My best friend Niall, was about the only understanding person, not just because he was my best mate, but because he was bi-sexual himself. I wish I could say the rest of my Sophomore class was as supportive, but to no avail. Yes, I've heard them all, fag, faggot, girl, queer, and about every other insult that could be thrown around about my sexuality. It hurt, but soon enough all those hurtful words began to fall on Deaf ears. I've learned not to let those things effect me, and Niall's obnoxious, loud laugh helps me laugh it off most times.