Decisions

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NOT AN UPDATE

So as you know, Louis figured out some of his past already, and heads up, the book is almost close to its end. hope you guys liked it!

and im also writting a second book if you're interested to keep reading some other stuff. have a nice week and this is a preview to the story I'm writing.

well actually, you guys get to decide! Comment story A or B and the one with the most comments will be the one I write! (1 vote per person)

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Story (A)

"Cynthia, the fabric is pure cotton. Cotton I tell you! Awful choice of style for that type of line of winter jackets."

"I Agree Mr.Styles."

"I mean look at the models! Dreading they are themselves for wearing that disgrace Grimshaw calls 'The Next Big Thing'."

"Indeed Mr.Styles."

"Why am I even here Cynthia?"

"I don't know Mr.Styles."

"Being a good sport to your rival Mr.Styles. He attends all your shows too."

"Yet he despises me."

"Indeed Mr.Styles, so do you."

Harry looks away from the cat walk and down to the floor, where the patterned colored tile seems more interested than any of the fit men modeling with the new winter collection of Grims Designing.

And that's Harry's problem. Harry likes fit men. Really, REALLY likes Fit. Men.

But the clothing is so horrible, it fails to emphasize any of the abs or facial features Harry is looking for to take home tonight.

"Cynthia, None of them are doing it for me. You have the notebook ready?"

"All numbers here Mr.Styles. Would you like the usual?"

Harry sometimes feels pathetic really, actually having a phonebook with numbers of the endless men who have been nice knowing for endless nights for minimum price. He's one of Londons most famous clothing designers, but not even at the age of 27, has he managed to settle down.

The reason why?

Nicholas Grimshaw.

"Yeah, go on ahead. My room at 11."

Since his internship at Bellas Rays, where he had met Nick at the age of 19, Harry has not had a peaceful life. They had came across each other as they competed for the assistant position of the designer herself and after they had sabotaged each others ideas until they were both kicked out, he vowed to beat his mortal enemy till the day he died.

With a lot of hard work and connections, Harry managed to pull through and build his own successfully company and took Bella Rays down on the way. However, the only problem was Grimmy exerted the same work too, now second place in London to the most looked up to enterprises.

Year after year, they both competed after the same price

The Number One Spot for ANY Season Fashion Title.

And it took so much, so much effort, Harry pushed back his schedule for romance. With sacrifice, came triumph, and Styles Designs won every year.

In Second place, came Nick, although he had a partner and a family by his side, which Harry took no interest of as long as they were out of his and their father's way.

Cynthia had came along the third year of Harry's Successful reign, and Harry absolutely loved her because she was a great negotiator. She always managed to get /steal/ Grimshaws models for the fun of it and throw in some one night stands in the contracts too.

She was Harry's Right hand /wo/Man.

*

Harry rolled his eyes as Nick announced the last clothing design, named after the day of his sons birth, which he rambled on and on about.

"Last but not least, The Christmas Eve."

Harry sighed in happiness as he realized, the end of the show was approaching. Looking up, he was startled by the way an unbelievably good looking boy, Not. Man. But BOY. came walking down the catwalk, waving as every one cheered loudly and stood up.

He felt mesmerized by the way the boy had such soft looking hair that screamed to be tugged, caramel colored fringe swept to the side and thankfully not covering those blue eyes, those blue eyes that could be the Ocean. He felt mesmerized by the way his cheeks were so chubby and a blush laid upon them, as he giggled at every one focusing their attention on him just walking down in a oversized red wool sweater that made him have outrageously huge sweater paws and failed to show any curves. He had plain sweatpants on to not take any attention off the sweater design, but Harry thought it was ironic because the boy himself did.

"Cynthia, Him. My room, 11pm."

"Im sorry sir, im afraid he's off limits."

"No one is off limits to me."

Harry snapped and Cynthia flinched in her seat, shaking her head.

"Sorry Mr.Styles, don't you know who that is?"

"Who could he possibly to be off limits."

"Mr. Grimshaws Son."

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Story B

In Year 1, I watched from afar as the boy lend a helping hand to the kid that fell off the stairs, comforting him until the teacher came and he helped him walk back to the nurse's office.

In Year 2, I watched from afar as the boy gave a girl crying on the playground his cookies so she would turn that frown upside, down, and succeeded.

In Year 3, I watched from afar as the boy helped one of our classmates get down from the monkey bars when he was in fear.

In Year 4, I watched from afar as the boy stood up to bullies after a girl was being made fun for playing with unicorns.

In Year 5, I watched from afar as the boy helped our pregnant teacher with picking up the chairs after class was done, and offered a lending hand any time he could.

In Year 6, I watched from afar as the boy helped a old citizen cross the street, without even asked to.

In Year 7, I watched from afar as the boy volunteered to tutor other students on the subject of English, no matter how many times his glasses got shattered every time he ran towards the study hall when he was late and they fell.

In Year 8, I watched from afar as the boy gladly took his sisters to school and so often, give them tours around the park.

In Year 9, I watched from afar as the boy enamoured every one he came across and was nominated the most loved and funny student of our whole grade level.

In Year 10, I watched from afar as the boy won Dutch and got thrown roses more than the king and queen did, and had a crowd full of fans that always supported Louis, even after he came out.

In Year 11, I watched from afar as the boy became more focus on his studies, and repeatedly got awards for scholarships although we had one more year left of high school. How the biggest party of the year, his 18th birthday, I was not invited to.

In Year 12, I watched from afar as the cute social boy since year 1, suddenly became an outcast, his friends now minimized to two, rather scary looking guys. How his life suddenly turned upside down, and no one bothered to look in his way, and actually, make room for him as he walked down the halls. He walked unharmed, hoodie on, with that same plastered smirk on his face everyday, after every period of the day when he actually attended school.

My name is Harry, and I've always wondered, why after that dagger tattoo he had inked into his arm,

has the cute social boy since year 1, never been the same.

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And COMMENT.

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