Just Me, You, And This Box of Matches

Chapter 10: Intervention

"Hello," says Liam.

Louis blinks. "I," he says.

"This is an intervention," says Liam, somewhat unnecessarily, and holds up a platter of sheet cake. "Want a slice?"

Louis glances at the cake and then does a double take. He stares. Rubs his eyes. Stares some more. "Is that...is that Harry's face?"

"Yes," says Liam, and then turns. "Come on, everyone's waiting in the living room."

"How is crossing out Harry's face on a cake going to stop me from drinking wine?" says Louis to the empty kitchen.

He still doesn't understand what the fuck is going on.

Louis' living room is full of people he doesn't know. He recognizes only a few of them- blonde-haired Asshole, curly haired Punch Girl, middle-aged Harry's-ex waitress, and, oddly enough, a grinning Pisces, perched on the edge of the couch- but the rest of them are complete strangers. They're sitting on the couch, lying on the coffee table, hunched under the TV cabinet. They're sitting on the railing and draped across the stairs and cross-legged on the banister, and Louis stands in the doorway wondering why the hell there are at least six dozen complete strangers crammed into the five hundred feet of his apartment and not one of them appears to be his roommate.

"Everyone," comes Liam's voice, and Louis looks up to see him standing on the coffee table. He would tell him to get off before he leaves scuff marks on the glass, but by now it seems kind of like a moot point.

Liam clinks the back of a knife against the wine glass in his hand twice- which would probably be acceptable had the room been noisy, but in the complete silence it reverberates for far too long- and clears his throat, like everyone's eyes weren't already trained on him. "Hello," he says. "As you all know, we are here for the intervention of our dear friend Louis Tomlinson."

"I don't even know these people, Liam!" The crowd's eyes all swivel as one to focus on Louis, and he ducks back into the kitchen, pressing his back to the cabinets.

"As I was saying," Liam's voice continues, "We are here to save him, not from the dangers that have caused him to go astray, but from himself-"

Louis steps back into the living room. "I seriously only drink less than a bottle a day-"

"-because we know that the only thing keeping from living to his full potential-"

"Why the fuck is there even a disco ball, how is that supposed to-"

"-is Harry Styles," says Liam triumphantly, and raises his empty glass in a gesture of victory. "Now, if you'll turn your eyes to the projector screen."

"Twenty-two reasons why Harry Styles is a bad influence: a Powerpoint presentation by Liam Payne." Click.

"As we can see here on this first slide, this is a picture of our beautiful city park, just six short days ago."

Click. "And here is the park now. This picture was taken yesterday. As you can see, there is no longer a park."

"There's bit of one," says a girl sitting near the front. "I can see a flower there in the back."

"That's a fire hydrant."

"Oh. Well, it didn't work very well, did it?"

Liam frowns at the speaker like their words have personally hurt the fire hydrant. "And whose fault is that?" he asks, and then promptly answers his own rhetorical question with, "I guess you'll find out if you keep watching my presentation."