To say that Louis Tomlinson was extremely upset over the pictures from Amsterdam would be the understatement of the year. The boy had not eaten in two days and had thrown himself into preparation for the live shows.
He was willing to do anything to get Harry's smiling, affectionate face out of his mind. He'd even tried to pour his emotions into a song, but nothing quite encapsulated how he felt. It seemed that the boy was living in his head, rent free.
He'd expressed as such to Niall, who had actually listened very well, and not interrupted, which was rare for the Irish Lad. Sure, he'd called him a 'feckin idiot' for getting too attached, too quickly, to a man who clearly did not care for him, but he was still pretty impartial in his advice. In fact, his antidote to the whole situation was to get blackout drunk at a club of his choosing.
Louis, who had not seen Niall for weeks, was game, obviously. He just was not sure how to get into London from the mansion in the middle of no where.
He considered an Uber, but after seeing the extortionate price, he wondered if there was another option, hence knocking on the door of Harry's assistant at 7pm that night.
"Harry. I didn't know you'd come back this early I-oh How can I help you?" He asked, with a tight smile. Louis took in his appearance. It was different to how he usually saw the assistant. He was less put together and looked exhausted. Guilt formed in Louis's mind. Had he just woken this poor man up?
"Hi. I'm sorry to disturb you. It's just- well- I'm going out tonight to Tape in London, and I was wondering how I'd get there," Harry's assistant raised his eyebrows and looked at Louis up and down. The look made him feel a little self-conscious and he wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach.
"You're going to Tape? Have you got an invitation?" He asked, as if it was a most obvious question in the world. In all honesty, Louis was not quite sure what Tape was and had not wanted to look it up.
It was all part of Niall's 'big plan'.
"No, my best mate, Niall, reckoned we should just turn up," He replied, honestly. His Irish best friend and organisation did not really go hand in hand and Louis knew that he would not have even considered getting a ticket, let alone an invitation.
Harry's assistant sighed and ran a hand through his tawny hair, before shoving his hands in his grey tracksuit bottoms.
"Louis, you're gonna get turned away the minute you get there," He confessed. Surprisingly, he did not look agitated; only tired and a little delirious. Louis imagined that he had many sleepless nights, babysitting the infamous rockstar. He wondered just how many clubs the poor man had carried him from.
"Tape is one of the most exclusive nightclubs in London. They don't just let anyone in," He continued, explaining the situation. Louis groaned. What had Niall been thinking? Although, in some ways, it did not surprise him at all. Niall had managed to convince himself that Louis was now a celebrity, purely because he was in the live shows of Factor 28. Louis hated that. He was not successful. All he had done was get through a few rounds. It did not help that the little voice in the back of his head told him that he had only gotten through because Harry wanted to sleep with him.
There was currently a fine line between his success and self-doubt, and they seemed to balance with one another. One always reminding the other.
"But-,"
"Don't worry. I got you covered," The assistant smirked and walked out of his room. Louis followed closely behind, a little confused as to what was happening.
"Harry always has spare invitations. I use them all the time," He confessed, as he entered a dark room, which looked to be an office. He reached into the top drawer of a ugly, metal filing cabinet and pulled out an abundance of invitations, tickets and personal notes. Louis stared, wide-eyed. People would probably pay a pretty penny for those types of exclusive tickets, and here Harry was, with a huge wad of them.
"You've been to Tape?" He asked the assistant, a little surprised. It was hard to imagine him able to do anything else, other than run around after Harry, who was still a nightmare employer, even if he was growing on the lad from Doncaster.
Peeling him off cold, wet pavements was probably an every-week occurrence. It certainly looked that way from the paparazzi pictures.
"Yes, Louis. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a life outside of Harry Styles, even if it's short," His assistant replied, a little harsher than Louis had anticipated. He tried to apologise but he wasn't quite sure what to say.
"I didn't mean-"
Harry's assistant interrupted him and shook his head, in an oddly comforting manner.
"Don't worry. It's ok. My name is Jamie, by the way. Harry never formally introduced us," He held his hand out for Louis, who shook it gently. Unlike Harry, whose handshake was firm, but not too firm, Jamie's was a little limp, and created an aura of warmth and kindness. He wondered whether or not Harry had employed him for his organisational skills, or his motherly nature. He suspected the latter.
Harry Styles needed to be looked after.
What are you planning to wear?" He asked, after pulling his hand away from Louis, and wiping it on his sweats. Louis would have been offended, if it was not for his disgustingly clammy hands.
He was a little surprised by the question and looked down at his jeans and tank top that he had been planning to rock in all his five foot eight glory.
Jamies chuckled and shook his head, causing Louis's eyebrow to raise. He hated being laughed at and felt like he was the butt of the joke, even if the laugh was not malicious.
"You will get turned down for that, as well," Jamie answered matter-of-factly. Louis blushed and looked away. His mind wandered and he was looking at all those ratty clothes in his wardrobe that he had owned for five or six years. He could not afford new clothes, and that was an embarrassing confession, especially to an employee of Harry Edward Styles, Gucci brand ambassador, and one of the most iconic men in fashion.
"I don't have anything else,' He admitted, and refused to meet the assistant's eyes. Jamie sighed and took his head, sensing his unease and embarrassment.
"Come with me," He supplied, before dragging Louis through the house and up the stairs. Louis noticed the assistant take a quick glance at that door, before walking up the corridor, to another section of the house that Louis had yet to explore. It was an extension and did not quite fit in with the rest of the house.
Jamie smiled as he opened the door at the end of the corridor and Louis gasped, taking in his surroundings. All around him were shoes and blazers, and jackets, and jeans, and every other piece of clothing you could think of. Behind translucent glass doors were beautiful, intricate pieces of jewellery. Diamonds, and emeralds shone brightly, reflecting against the dimmed mood-lighting of the room, and creating cascading rainbows falling onto the floor, in kaleidoscopic patterns and designs.
The room was easily ten times the size of Louis's own bedroom, back in Doncaster, and was full to the brim. That was when it hit him. Louis was not in a random walk-in wardrobe.
"Wait, isn't this Harry's closet?" He asked Jamie, who had already started rifling through Harry's clothes, pulling out numerous shirts, holding them up to Louis's skinny frame, before placing them back on their hangers. He seemed very unbothered by the fact that the two of them were in Harry's multi-million pound wardrobe without his permission.
"Wont he mind me taking his stuff?" Louis tried to reason, a little paranoid that an alarm was about to start ringing, alerting the police that there had been a break-in at Harry's mansion. Jamie just laughed and took in Louis's nervous persona.
"Firstly, have you seen the amount of clothes he has," He gestured to the room, that was full top to bottom of every type of clothing you could imagine.
"and secondly, I don't think he'd mind you borrowing his stuff, from what he's said about you," He let out a knowing smirk and winked. Louis flushed and wondered what exactly Harry had been saying, although he was not sure he wanted to know. He decided not to pry and the two continued to rifle through Harry's extensive wardrobe.
They eventually settled on a pair of Gucci sweatpants and a crisp white shirt that definitely cost more than most mortgage down-payments. Whilst Louis changed, Jamie explained how Harry had his own chauffeur who would happily drive Louis there and back from the club, without any issues. The situation was ideal, and whilst he felt a little apprehensive about having his own personal driver, the little voice in Louis's head was telling him to embrace it.
It was not like he was going to get another opportunity like this.
===
When Louis arrived outside of the club he was greeted by a long line of people, and Niall was nowhere in sight. He sighed and scanned the busy streets of London, for a strange Irish man, hoping one may appear. Niall was late to everything.
As he waited, Louis took in his surroundings. It was dark, and the gold sign that looked a little bit like a figure of eight shone like a beacon onto the bustling streets below. There was a sensory overload as the smell of car fumes mixed with the scent of a nearby takeaway curry house and the expensive perfumes of local girls hoping to charm their way into the club. The sounds of sirens battled with the excited cries of people at the front of the queue, and Louis could just about make out a homeless man at the end of the street, pleading for food. He chucked him a fiver, hoping that he would be able to find a warm meal for himself.
After five minutes of people watching, Louis heard a booming Irish voice.
"Nice to meet ya. What's your name?"
Louis laughed and wrapped his friend into a close hug. The two had always been affectionate with one another and Louis had missed having Nialler in his ear and up in his grill all of the time. His life had been eerily quiet without him.
"Ok, wow. This queue is long," Niall stared at the line full of hundreds of people and shot Louis a worried glance. The Doncaster lad just smirked knowingly and strode up to the bouncer, trying to keep his head up. Jamie had explained that confidence was key in order to get into this club.
"Queue's that way, pal," The bouncer snapped, and pointed down the street. Louis shook his head and pulled out one of those invitations from Jamie.
"I'm friends with Edward Cox," He whispered in the bouncer's ear. Louis had been told to say this by Harry's assistant, but he was not actually sure who that man was. He wondered if it was some form of code.
Nevertheless, it worked and the two were welcomed into the club without a second glance.
House and trap music bombarded them as they hit the dance floor, and Louis took a little step back, shocked by the noise. This place was surreal and made the clubs in the north look like his local Wetherspoons. Beautiful girls danced upon each other, hoping to catch male attention, and celebrities mingled with socialites. There was a small part in Louis's brain that thought that this club was very reminiscent of Harry's party, but the good music and incredible atmosphere drowned out any negative thoughts. Smoke filled the dance floor and strobe lighting pulsated against the whole room, neon flashes hitting him every so often.
Niall seemed just as impressed as Louis and gaped at his surroundings.
"This is fookin awesome," He gasped, before grabbing a drink from a tray. Louis was fairly sure that it was not complimentary, but he did not say anything. Now was the time to let Niall enjoy himself, and use the perks of having Harry Styles as his mentor. He was not about to disagree with his friend either. This club was incredible. Everything about it oozed fun and enjoyment. It was enough to make him forget about the broken but beautiful boy, and Louis let the music take control of his body.
===
Two hours later and Louis was sitting in the back of his fancy car, which featured blackout windows and incredibly comfortable seats. Whilst him and Niall had a great time, the lad from Doncaster made the decision not to get too drunk. There were people in that room he could work with one day, and he was not about to risk it all for a drunken night out with his best friend. Niall, on the other hand, had not been as sensible and Louis had shoved him into a taxi at 2am, him still mumbling the words to whatever dance track was on.
Despite Louis's babysitting of his little Irish friend, he still had had a great night. It made him forget about what was going on in his life, and feel like he was back in his hometown, partying until the golden sunrise. It was a nice feeling to have.
The car finally made its way back to Harry's mansion and dread filled Louis's gut, as he stared out of the passenger window. What he saw was not what he expected, nor was it good. Cars littered the rockstar's driveway and loud music could be heard banging and vibrating against the ancient timber that held the Tudor inspired home together. This was not promising.
Not at all.
Louis hastily made his way out of the car and thanked the driver, before jogging towards the door. For some unknown reason, he was afraid of what he was going to see. Had people broken into Harry's house? Had his fellow contestants thrown a party without him knowing?
The music seemed to be coming from the pool room, which appeared to be the place where every party was held, and without a second thought Louis stormed through the house, searching for the source of the loud racket.
As soon as he opened the door to the pool, he was hit with a loud bass which caused his stomach to grumble and ears to ring. Bodies were pressed against one another, yearning for some form of comfort or touch, grinding to the overly erotic music. It was hard to navigate through the crowds but Louis tried his best to cut through everyone, searching for someone (anyone) who he recognised.
That was when he saw him.
It was probably the most devastating thing that Louis had ever witnessed.
Harry Edward Styles was virtually passed out.
Louis had seen Harry high before, but this was another level, and the most disturbing part was not his physical state, but those around him. As Louis drew closer, he noticed three girls desperately trying to get him to take more pills. They whispered in his ear, and stroked his curly hair, desperate for his attention. But it appeared as if the rockstar had lost the ability to focus, let alone communicate with someone. He was one pill away from an overdose. Louis was sure of it.
"Harry?" He asked tentatively, and nervously, afraid that Harry would not even have the ability to answer him.
"Louis?" The star mumbled, and Louis nodded his head quickly, drawing closer to the star. The girls surrounding him eyed the smaller lad territorially, but he sent them all death glares and they allowed him to get closer. He grabbed his hand and felt the rockstar squeeze it, weakly, but he was glad he still had some control over his limbs.
"I tried to find you earlier but you weren't there, and I was lonely," Louis swallowed and looked around at the scenes surrounding him. Had he thrown this party to try and comfort himself? Was this Louis's fault? He knew the thoughts were unreasonable. Harry has Louis's number and made no effort to contact him, but he still felt guilty
Harry was oblivious to his worries and tried to lean in closer, but he was too unstable to do so.
I'm tired, Lou. I want to sleep," Harry confessed, finally collapsing into Louis's shoulder.
He was hot and sweaty and his lips and cheeks were covered in various shades of lipstick. Ashy and grey tones littered his skin and he appeared half dead. The boy honestly looked exhausted.
The girls seemed not to hear Harry's pleas and one of them physically tried to put a pill into his mouth, as he leaned into Louis for comfort, brown hair sprayed all over the place.
"What are you doing?" Louis demanded, eyes widening at the girls' behaviour. "Get off of him!"
"Relax grandma. We're all having fun here," she cackled, her green eyes piercing and venomous. It was a vast contrast to the beautiful forest that Harry possessed, and it made Louis even angrier. The other two girls nodded and their long legs shone against the strobe light, shiny and pristine.
"Louis," Harry mumbled into his shoulder. "I want to go to bed. There's too many people,"
It was at this point Louis made a decision that he would not have made if he had not had a bit of liquid courage at the club.
All five foot eight of him stormed over to the DJ booth and grabbed the microphone. The music ground to a halt and the eager bodies pressed against one another paused, to see what the commotion was.
"I want everyone out in 30 seconds or I ring the police," Louis announced.
Those words brought the room to life, figures darting back and forth in panic, trying to find their friends. It seemed as though everyone was taking his threat seriously and girls were running out of the door without shoes and boys without shirts. If it had been a different situation, the scene would have been comedic, but right now it was anything but.
It took less than a minute for the room to clear, and all that was left was Louis and Harry, and clothes littered around the room.
The rockstar's head was leaning against a chair, and he looked close to passing out. Louis sighed at how much of a mess he was, before grabbing him and lifting him up.
Harry was a lot bigger than Louis and it was a struggle to get him up the stairs, but eventually he managed, and laid him down gently into his bed. The star was passed out, before his head even hit the pillow.
Once back into his own room, Louis could not help but speculate why Harry had allowed himself to get into that state. It was much worse than before, boarding on an ambulance being called, and he wondered why. Harry had seemed so happy with Taylor in Amsterdam, even if she was a beard, so why did he choose to get smashed the minute he came back?
The biggest question on Louis's mind, however, was 'why didn't he tell me he was back?'