sold out ▸ larry stylinson

Chapter 14.

146 days until the premiere

[Thursday, 07:34 p.m Notting Hill, Louis Apartment]

He hadn't slept. How could he with all those feelings tumbling around in his stomach like a windmill? Confusion. Guilt. Desire,...He slammed the bathroom mirror door shut, sighed as he looked himself in the eye. He looked miserable, like a fucking trainwreck and without a single drop of alcohol to get him there. That's what it does to you he guessed bitterly, the sense of concern, being the good guy, lying awake with a hard-on for three damn hours. He should've taken care of that when he had the chance he realised as he buttoned his jeans, it would be a day full of frustration now.

[07.58 a.m. Jermyn Street Theatre]

He arrived at work right on time. Always right on time. That was one of the things he wanted people to notice about him, he was someone you could count on, someone who took responsibility. He hung off his things in the loge, noticed he was the third to arrive. His eyes travelled over the empty spot where Harry's coat usually hung before walking over to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. As he entered, Camille and Nick greeted him with warm smiles before turning back to each other, taking no notice of him.

"What am I supposed to do? I'm pissed at him, but seeing him like that yesterday,...should I talk to him?" Camille said, her hands clutching onto a reeking cup of tea.

Nick leaned backwards in the couch, "I don't know, love. Harry is,...Harry. It's not the first time he's been like this and he always comes back."

Louis grabbed the coffee pot but slowed down his motions at the mention of Harry.

Camille sighed and placed her cup on the table, "But what if he doesn't this time? What if he,...Sure, I'm pissed at him, but when am I NOT pissed at him?"

He grabbed a mug and poured the coffee with ease.

"Fair point," Nick agreed.

Camille continued and Louis could hear her frustration without even looking at her, "Yeah, and somehow I can't help to think it's my fault he freaked out yesterday!"

"No! It's not your fault, at all. Harry's a grown person, he can stand for his own actions. Okay?" Nick said with a firm voice, "It's not your fault. You can't go around taking responsibility for other people's actions, that's not healthy. You have a valid reason to be pissed at him, okay?"

Louis realised what he was doing, he was snooping around in something he had no part in, but somehow he couldn't make himself leave the room. So he opened the fridge, grabbed the butter and a half-eaten cucumber, placed them on the zink as he took a slice of bread from the basket on the counter.

"Yes, I know, you're right, but it bugs me. I don't want him to hurt?" Camille said, concerned.

"None of us does," Nick agreed in a soft voice, "We all want him to be happy; his normal glittering self, but lately, I don't know. He's struggling."

Louis swallowed, scooping up butter on a knife.

"I don't want him to struggle,...Should I go to see him maybe?" Louis glanced at Camille, who was now dragging her hand through her hair.

"That's up to you, Cam. But if you ask for my opinion, I think no. You have enough of your own problems, you don't have to take on his as well," Nick leaned forward again, "You've been looking out for him for such a long time now and what have he given you in return? Good dick now and then, and what else?"

Camille snorted, "I guess you're right."

"I'm sorry to say this, but he's no good for you, at least not now."