A/N: I'm dedicating this chapter to @Laura_Love_4 whose comments always make me smile :)
Warning: Jeffrey is very extra in this chapter.
LOUIS / PRESENT
Because I had the misfortune of being born on Christmas Eve, I always celebrated my birthday a week early. The event doubled as a company holiday party since it would be the last time most of us would see each other before the break.
Only thirty people or so showed up but because my flat was small the place felt packed. The windows steamed up from the heat of bodies drinking and laughing.
Eleanor and Liam were fighting over the electric stove. Liam was making his signature fish tacos while Eleanor made pot brownies. They shuffled around each other in my tiny kitchenette trying not to get fish in the brownies a visa versa.
I was running around playing host, making sure everyone had a drink in their hand and a coaster.
Jeffrey and I were still dating. He'd taken it upon himself to act as co-host, taking people's coats and giving them a tour of my flat.
"Look at this view!" he boasted, leading guests out on the balcony, and then back inside. "This is our reading nook, and we watch TV over here. Wait, let me put on the DVD I found of Louis' old dance recitals!"
No, please no.
"And this is what Louis looked like as a baby. So chubby!"
Don't ask me how he found my old family albums. I didn't even know I had them. Jeffrey wasn't a naturally curious person but when it came to me he was like a fucking archeologist.
Jeffrey's fixation with me didn't stop at my baby pictures. I had decided to wear my burgundy sweater that night and Jeffrey was wearing blue. He immediately changed into an identical burgundy sweater when he saw what I was wearing.
"Oh God," I said to him, "we're that couple."
"Shut up, we're cute."
"We look like brothers!"
"All the guys in the village dress like their boyfriends."
"But we're not in the village, we're in my flat."
"We're gay men wherever we are, Louis. Dressing alike is a symbol of our relationship and shows solidarity with our people."
I grinned. It was so adorable when he lectured me on mores of our community. Jeffrey had been out of the closet all of five minutes.
Zayn and Gigi arrived, a light dusting of snow on their wool coats. I kissed them both and they handed me a bottle of red.
Niall and Maurice arrived minutes later. Poor Maurice. Scarred by his experiences with Harry in the studio, he kept looking over his shoulder, his tiny black eyes blinking wildly.
"Don't worry, Maurice. I didn't invite Harry."
"Oh, thank goodness!" He reached for the sweetest liquor he could find on my small drink cart. "Harrie has been yelling at me all all day! I can't take another minute of that man."
I nodded sympathetically. I knew the feeling.
Niall bought me a book. He didn't bother to wrap it. He just stuck a ratty bow on the cover. It was a biography of the former manager of Manchester United, Max Ferguson.
"Cheers, I've been meaning to read this."
"Let me know when you finish so I can borrow it."
"And never give it back, like you do with all my other books."
"Precisely."
The music was loud but so was everyone else. I could barely hear what song was playing over the throng of conversation. I couldn't make out too many faces either. Jeffrey and I put up twinkly Christmas lights and turned off the overhead light. It was dark enough for intimate conversation and just bright enough to see where you were walking.
Everyone had arrived. I was darting from friend to friend having a laugh when, unexpectedly, the buzzer rang.
I stepped onto the small balcony. Zayn was out there having a smoke.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"Just your mortal enemy."
I looked down. There was Harry, bundled up, holding a bottle of wine.
I stormed inside. "Alright, who invited him?"
The room was silent. Then Gigi cracked.
"It was me," she confessed.
Maurice clutched his chest, betrayed.
"He wanted me to partner with him again tonight and I was too tired to come up with a lie. I haven't slept in three weeks. He's a slave driver!" She had dark circles beneath her eyes. Harry had been making her rehearse with him late into the night, every night.
Normally I didn't care when friends invited friends to my party, but in this case I had specifically not invited Harry because I didn't want him there. Neither did Maurice and neither did Jeffrey. Especially Jeffrey. He gave me a warning glare.
"Tell him to leave."
"I'll get rid of him."
I didn't buzz Harry up. Instead I went downstairs to the lobby to tell him it would be better if he didn't come up.
Harry brightened when he saw me through the glass door. His ears and nose were pink and he was bouncing to keep warm.
I opened the lobby door. "Hi Harry."
"Happy birthday," he said, feigning normalcy, like we hadn't fought just days before. He handed me the bottle of wine: Ravenswood Lodi Zinfandel.
"Gigi and Zayn got me the same one."
Harry looked gutted. "She said it was your favorite. I didn't realize she'd gotten you the same. I should have thought of that," he chided himself.
"That's okay, you can't have too much of a good thing."
Harry glanced at the buzzer. I hadn't buzzed him up and I still hadn't invited him inside. It was dawning on him that I didn't want him there.
He tried to save face. "Well, I'll be on my way. I just wanted to drop that off." He smiled nervously. "Goodnight."
I shut my eyes. "Harry, wait."
"I really have to go. Bye."
"Come upstairs."
"Can't, I have plans. Have a nice time." He waved.
I knew he was just going to go back to the studio alone. I felt horrible. He was trying to make amends and here I was being unforgivably rude.
"Please," I said, freezing in the doorway. "Come up. I mean it. Gigi and Eleanor are here. So are Zayn and Liam."
He turned around slowly.
"Okay," he said. "Maybe just for a little while."
Jeffrey refused to take Harry's coat, so I took it and laid it down on my bed with all the others. Harry followed me into the bedroom. The back of my neck prickled. I'd never been embarrassed by my flat before but I was now. My place was probably a lot smaller than his. My whole life was smaller than his. I was now acutely aware of every modest, unstylish thing I owned. Harry's taste was much more sophisticated. And what was I thinking with the twinkle lights? They were so childish.
"You have a lot of friends, Louis."
"Not enough to fill the Royal Opera House."
"Those aren't my friends. They're just people who know who I am."
Harry was looking at the photos on my dresser, many of them from our time at school. He picked up a framed photo of me and Zayn in the studio.
"I remember that day." He picked up another one, with me and Gigi and Eleanor on a double decker bus. "And this day."
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. It was a glaring omission. He was with me on each of those days. Back then we were together every day.
"It's okay," he said. "I understand why you wouldn't want to have pictures of me up in your flat."
"You cut me out of your speech," I said defensively.
"That didn't really bother you, did it?" he said in disbelief.
"And you refused to shake my hand at the patron's dinner."
Harry hugged his arms. He was wearing a grey cashmere sweater. It looked soft and warm.
"I apologize." He sat on the edge of my bed. "Do you forgive me?"
"That's not the apology I want and you know it."
Jeffrey stepped into the room, zeroing in on Harry. Then he turned to me and announced airily, "The brownies are done, sweetie."
"Harry, you remember my boyfriend Jeffrey."
"Hello, Jeffrey," he said, leaning back on the bed.
Jeffrey stuck his little China doll nose in the air. "Sorry our bedroom is such a mess. We woke up late this morning."
Subtle.
"I don't mind. I used to share a bedroom with Louis. I know what he's like."
Jeffrey's face turned a shade of red I'd never seen before.
"No you don't. We're not just roommates. We're a couple."
Harry glanced at our matching sweaters. "Really? I couldn't tell."
"I see you're here alone," Jeffrey goaded, trying desperately to get under Harry's skin. "How awkward for you."
Harry sighed. "Yes. It's hard to find time for a relationship when work is so demanding. You must have loads of free time now that you've been cut from Swan Lake."
Jeffrey didn't have another comeback in him. He eyed me angrily and left in a huff.
"You better go tend to your boyfriend," Harry said.
Why didn't I stick up for Jeffrey? What the hell was wrong with me? It was confusing seeing Harry in my bedroom. On my bed. I let him get into my head.
I joined Jeffrey in the kitchen, wrapping my arms around him snugly as Harry looked on behind us.
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Um, do you two lovebirds want to help me serve these?" she said, holding out the tray with her oven mitts.
I cut the brownies up into tiny pieces and placed them on my only holiday themed platter. Most guests politely declined, not wanting to get too fucked up on a weeknight, but Zayn and Gigi greedily accepted and so did Niall. I wasn't planning to partake since I was the host, but my encounter with Harry had rattled me and I needed something to take the edge off.
Harry cornered Maurice the first chance he got. He had been trying to change parts of his solo but Maurice said no and got Kenneth to back him up. Harry wouldn't take no for an answer, and after a few drinks Maurice's defenses were down.
"Please, you must understand, I am a traditional man. My choreography pays homage to the Russian masters, Petipa and Ivanov."
"Tradition is just another word for old. Your ideas are old," Harry spat.
I had to rescue him.
"Maurice, can I interest you in a brownie or a taco, perhaps?"
"We're talking," said Harry.
Maurice scurried over to me. "I would love a taco," he said, over-annunciating the "t" with his thick Swiss accent.
I led Maurice over to Liam who was serving tacos to a lineup of eager guests.
Harry leaned against the wall and scowled. "I'm not done with him."
"Yes, you are!" I snapped. "We're not in the studio. This is a party. My party. I'm not going to stand by and watch you attack my guests! Were you raised by wolves?"
"I wasn't attacking him! He needs to hear this. I'm right."
I rolled my eyes. "You're always right, aren't you? You should worry less about being right and more about being liked."
He paused. "Do you like me?"
"You're a hard person to like, Harry."
The room tilted. I could feel the pot brownies start to take effect. Everything was a little out of focus and my thoughts started to run together. I couldn't keep track of what I was saying in my head and what I was saying out loud.
"But I--I think about you a lot."
Harry pursed his lips and looked away, embarrassed by my sudden frankness.
I dropped down to the ground and sat cross-legged. It's not something one does out of the blue, but high it seemed like a perfectly reasonable move.
Harry slid down the wall and joined me. "What do you think about?" he asked.
"How beautiful you were when first I met you. How shy, how gentle and sweet."
Harry winced. "I don't like talking about how I was as a boy."
"Why?"
"I hate that person."
"I miss him."
Harry's translucent eyes picked up the grey of his sweater and he gazed at me with steely resignation. "He's gone."
I reached out and touched his chest. "No he isn't." Harry tried to brush my hand away but I left it there firmly. I could feel his heart skipping anxiously beneath the soft sweater.
"Do you ever think about me?" I asked.
He let me suffer for a minute, then said, "Yes."
"Well, what do you think about?"
"I can't say. I'm too sober."
My eyes widened. I would have done anything to read his mind in that moment. I glanced over my shoulder to see if there were brownies nearby.
"I—"
"Excuse me!" Jeffrey interrupted.
Oh shit. Jeffrey.
I scrambled to my feet and steadied myself on his shoulder. He walked me over to the couch and we collapsed there. He seemed pretty angry so I was expecting an earful. Jeffrey could be quite feisty when he wanted to be. But instead of giving me one of his long hysterical lectures, he began fiercely making out with me. I hated public displays of affection and under normal circumstances I would have been mortified, but I was too high, and kind of turned on after my conversation with Harry. He was still on the ground where I left him, watching us. I could hear Zayn and Niall snickering to each other and Gigi yelling at us to get the hell off her sweater.
People began to leave two or three hours later. I said a long slurred goodbye to Maurice, who was exhausted by all us young folks and our antics. Zayn would have stayed later but Gigi was too tired. They split a taxi with Eleanor. Liam and Niall were chatting on the balcony, but they decided to continue their chat on the walk home. I hugged them all goodbye, until it was just Jeffrey and I alone in the flat. Or so I thought.
"What were you two talking about?" Jeffrey asked, while he did the dishes.
"Who?"
"You know who."
"Nothing," I shrugged, picking up plates of half-eaten brownies off the coffee table.
"It didn't look like nothing," he mumbled. "I thought we agreed he wasn't invited."
"I didn't invite him."
"You could have asked him to leave."
"Jeffrey, that's so rude!"
"I don't care! He got me removed from the show for no reason!"
Just then Harry appeared in the bedroom doorway. "It wasn't for no reason," he said.
Oh God, how long had he been standing there? What did he hear?
Harry took the plates out of Jeffrey's hands and placed them in the kitchen sink. He turned on the water and began doing the washing up like he owned the place.
Jeffrey was ready to explode. He always suspected Harry got him fired from the show but he didn't know for sure. Now he had it straight from the horse's mouth.
"What reason could there be?"
Harry threw the dishcloth over his shoulder and leaned back against the sink. "You aren't good enough, Jeffrey."
I had to physically hold Jeffrey back.
"Are you fucking serious? Kenneth loves me and Maurice was talking about giving me a solo."
"You might be good enough by their standards, but you aren't good enough to share a stage with me, and you certainly aren't good enough to share a stage with Louis!"
Jeffrey wriggled out of my grip and got in Harry's face. "I've shared a stage with Louis before and I'll do it again!"
"Not while I'm in the company!"
I didn't even know what they were arguing about anymore. I got in between them and pushed them apart.
Jeffrey clawed at my arms like a cat. "I may not be sharing a stage with Louis but I am sharing his bed. What are you even doing here, Harry? You weren't invited! Louis HATES you!"
Hurt flickered across Harry's impassive expression.
He went to the bedroom, got his coat, and ran out of the flat, cheeks burning red.
"Can you believe him?" Jeffrey boomed. "He's crazy! I told you he was out to get me! He's going to sabotage my whole career while he's at the company!"
"Jeffrey, you were way out of line," I said, shrugging on my coat to go after Harry. "You can't talk to him that way. He's my colleague."
"I'm your boyfriend!" Jeffrey cried, throwing himself against my chest.
"I know, I know, sweetheart." I dried his tears with my thumb and kissed him quickly. "But I have to fix this."
I left the apartment, flew down the steps and out the door to my building. Harry was halfway down the street, hands in his pockets, snow falling gracefully onto his shoulders.
"Harry!" I called.
He stopped and looked at me.
I didn't really know what to say. I didn't want to apologize for Jeffrey. Harry had behaved badly too.
"I just wanted to thank you again for... the wine."
He ambled over to me, the icy wind making him sniffle a little. "Is it true you didn't want me to come tonight?"
I looked down. "Harry, things haven't been good between us. I'm sorry but I thought it would be easier for me and..."
"Jeffrey."
"Yeah."
Harry gazed up my apartment, watching the flashing Christmas lights in the widow like a fireworks display.
"Does he really make you happy?"
It was a strange question coming from someone who devoted so much energy to hurting me.
"Yes."
Harry's face turned back to the dark, empty street. "Good."
It was freezing. I had to go inside and let him catch a taxi. But there was so much more I wanted to say. "Do you think we might ever go back to being like we were?"
"How do you mean?" he furrowed his brow, unsure.
"I mean, before Beauchamp took you to Kiev."
All uncertainty fell from his face and his features turned to stone. "No."
A/N: I hope you liked this "present" chapter. I know the drama is more lowkey in the "present" than the "past" right now but I'm doing my best to keep it interesting. Thanks for sticking with it!