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Chapter Text

5 years old

“Hazza stop!” Louis screamed, running away from his best friend who was chasing him with a bottle of water. “I didn’t mean to splash you.”  It was really an accident, he had started laughing because Harry told a funny joke and caused the bottle of water in his hand to tip over onto Harry’s shirt.  

“I’m going to getchu you!” Harry laughed, almost directly behind Louis, but his mother’s angry face caused him to slow down. 

“Harry ! Louis! Stop running this minute! You guys will get hurt!” Anne said to them in a serious tone, with Louis’ mom standing beside her with an equally strict expression. “Now go play nicely. And quietly. Your sisters’ are trying to sleep.” 

“Yes ma’am.” The two small boys said, as they watched their mothers go back inside Harry’s home. 

They immediately burst into giggles and continued chasing each other around the backyard until they grew tired and sweaty because of the hot summer sun. They both laid on the grass watching the clouds form different shapes and animals in the blue sky.  

“That one looks like you, boo!” Harry exclaimed, pointing at the weird white blob in the sky. 

“It looks like a big fat poop.” Louis said, giggling into his hands because he said the word ‘poop’.  

 “No silly, it’s a flower.”

“I look like a flower?” Louis asked confused, he doesn’t look like a plant, he’s a human being that’s what his mommy tells him.  

“Your eyes do.” Harry said, smiling widely. “They’re pretty like a flower.” 

Louis was too young to realize why that comment made him turn beet red, and Harry was too young to understand why seeing Louis go red made his heart pound delightfully in his chest.  

----

6 years old  

Louis squeals, “a shooting star! Hazza! Look!”

Harry follows Louis’ fingers and giggles at the star, “we have to make a wish! Lou! Quick!”

They both squeeze their eyes shut, and Harry recites the same wish he rambles every night: make the monsters take me instead of him. When he opens back his eyes, Louis is staring at him with his teddy clutched tightly to his chest.  

“What did you wish for, Hazza?” 

“It’s a secret.” 

“Noooo, we don’t keep secrets.” Louis’ bottom lip shook, his eyes watering. “We’re best friends. Best friends don’t keep secrets.” He sniffles.  

Harry frowns, putting his nose on Louis’ nose. “Don’t cry. I’ll tell you only if you stop crying, okay?”  

Louis rubs his eyes dry, nodding. “Okay.” He mumbles.  

“I wished for us to eat ice cream for breakfast tomorrow.” He fibs, not wanting to tell Louis the embarrassing truth. His mom says fibs are okay, lies are bad. 

“Ice cream?” Louis whispers outrageously into Harry’s teddy bear. “We can’t eat ice cream! That’s dessert not breakfast, silly. We’ll eat pancakes. I like pancakes. Do you like pancakes?” 

“Yeah.” Harry’s eyes widened with delight. “I love pancakes. I want pancakes.” 

“Yay! Let’s go to sleep so we can wake up and eat pancakes!”  

Harry smiles through the fear, he’s a big boy. He’s almost seven, he needs to be strong.  “Okay. Goodnight, Lou.” 

“Goodnight Hazza.” Louis yawns.  

In a couple of minutes Louis drifts off to sleep.  

Three hours later, Harry does too with teary eyes and shaking hands.  

He needs to be a big boy.  

----

8 years old 

“You wanna play hide and seek?” Harry asks Louis quietly when they’re finished eating dinner.  

“Yeah! You’re it!” Louis runs off, leaving a dumbfounded Harry at the dining table.  

“Mom, can we go play now?” He asks his mum politely, but she doesn’t hear him because she’s too busy trying to convince Gemma to eat her vegetables. Gemma scrunches up her face and throws her bowl across the table, the broccoli landing at his mother’s feet.  

“Anne.” His father says sharply, his fork clattering on the plate.“You need to learn how to handle our daughter better.” He flicks his gaze over to Harry, “your son is speaking to you.” 

Harry looks down, squeezing his fingers tightly under the table.  

“Sorry hun, what did you say?” 

Harry repeats the question. 

“Yes, dear. Go play, just be careful.” 

“Ya see? That’s the problem.” His father snarls, “you have him running around here when he’s supposed to be playing real games. How about you and Louis go to the back yard and kick around a ball for a change?”  

“Harry, go play hide and seek with Louis.” His mum says while ignoring her husband’s glare.

“Thanks mum.” Harry says quietly, before running upstairs to find his friend. He counts down from twenty loudly, making sure Louis hears and has enough time to find a good hiding spot. “Ready or not, here I come!”  

When they play hide and seek there is an unspoken rule that downstairs is off limits, leaving Harry’s bedroom, washroom, and closet as the only places to hide. He checks the washroom first, tiptoeing to the shower, and then dragging the curtain fast only to find Louis not there. Harry pouts. He really thought he would be in the bathroom, that’s always where his best friend always chooses to hide. 

He walks into his bedroom, checking under the bed, behind the door, and at the corner of the computer desk. Still nothing. That leaves the closet as the only place left.  “I got you now, Lou.” He runs to the closet prepared to find Louis crouched on the ground under his clothes, but again, he finds nothing but tossed clothing and random race cars.  

He gets up, scratching his curly head. Where else could he be? 

“Boo!” Louis screams from behind, jumping onto Harry’s back. They both collapse backwards on the bed behind them. 

“Ughh.” Harry groans, turning his body around to face his best friend that still has his legs wrapped around his waist. “I found you.” Harry said, poking Louis’ small nose.  

“No.” Louis protests, “I won. You didn’t find me.” 

“You jumped on me, so that means I won. You didn’t stay hidden.” 

Louis grumbles, “can’t we just say we found each other?” 

“Nope. I’m the winner.”  

“But you always win!” Louis whines, “Why don’t I ever win?”  

“Because you can’t hide from me.” Harry smiles down at his best friend. “I’ll always find you.” 

       ----

         11 years old 

“Okay, the plan is I’ll ask my mom if you can sleep over, and then you will do your puppy dog look that wins her over all the time. That way we can stay up all night and play games.” 

Louis sits up on the bed, and turns towards Harry. “What puppy dog look? I don’t do that, Haz.” 

“Yes you do. Just act innocent.”  

“Okay...” Louis hesitates, “but I don’t think it will work. Tomorrow’s the first day back to school, they won’t want us staying up and ‘goofing’ around.” 

“It will work, trust me.” Harry says leaning over Louis and brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Hey, you okay? You look upset...do you not want to stay over?”

“It’s not that-I do want to sleep over... I’m just worried about tomorrow.”

“Why?”  

“Because things might change.” 

They both enter 6th grade, a new school and a new society basically. He’s heard from his older cousins that middle school either makes or breaks you. And….it’s the year to meet girls.  Kiss girls. Louis’ nervous about that part, especially because he hasn’t had any real crushes yet like Harry. Harry already kissed a girl last year at camp. Abigail. He told him every single detail about it afterwards. Just thinking about it makes him feel angry. Why? He has no idea. Maybe he liked Abigail and didn’t realize it until Harry kissed her. That must be it.  

“What do you mean?” 

Louis sighs, “You might meet cooler people than me and stop being my best friend.”

Harry laughs very loudly at his remark, his face turning red from the amount of humour he’s clearly getting out of Louis’ embarrassment.  Louis pushes Harry’s shoulder, hard, and walks out of his room and out of his house to go back home. He doesn’t want to sleep over anymore.  

“Louis, stop! Wait up!” Harry shouts, jogging behind him until he catches up to Louis. “Why did you leave?” 

“You were being a jerk.” Louis says, folding his arms. “You didn’t have to laugh at me.”

“Oh.” Harry says, shaking his head. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing because the thought of not being your best friend is funny. It’s just not possible. I won’t leave you. It’s us till the end.” 

“Promise?” Louis asked hesitantly, holding his small pinky out.  

Harry sealed the deal, “promise.” He said, kissing their linked pinkies. 

The next day Harry kept his promise. 

  ----

14 years old

“Haz stop.” Louis laughs uncontrollably, swatting away his best friend's hands that are attacking his side.“You’re cheating!”  

“I’m not.” Harry replies, while reaching over this time to press random buttons on Louis’ controller. “Fuck yeah!” Harry screams, after beating him again at Mario kart. “You need to brush up on your skills if you expect to ever beat me, Lou.” 

“Fuck you, you always cheat.” Louis says, shaking his head. “Another round?” He asks the same time he hears the loud horn blowing outside.  

He thought he would have more time with his best friend tonight. 

“Next time.” Harry says, quickly putting on his coat that he slung over the sofa earlier. “How do I look?” Harry asks, after fluffing his hair and brushing off the crumbs from the snacks they ate earlier. 

Beautiful. You always look beautiful, Louis thinks. 

“You look fine.” He replies, walking over to the tv to switch off the game console and tie up the controllers neatly so his mother doesn’t throw a fit when she gets home. He turns around to see Harry staring at him with an unpleasant expression, arms folded over his chest. “What?” 

“You didn’t even look at me.” 

“I don’t have to.” Louis replies, but to make Harry feel better he looks him up and down, paying most attention to his soft smooth face. “As I said before, you look fine. Now go.” He said, after hearing the blaring car horn go off again and a series of shouts from outside. “You don’t want to keep your best friends waiting.” He mumbles jokingly, well tries to at least.   

“Hey, don't do that.” Harry frowns, grabbing Louis by the waist and bringing him in for a hug. Louis rests his head on Harry’s collarbones, while Harry positions himself in the crock of his neck. They’re still not quite used to their height difference, especially with Harry being a whole head taller than him compared to before. “The only reason I’m going is because I need to get to know the team better. Nick says it’s important I create a bond with all the players.” He says into his neck, the hint of his lips tracing the skin of Louis’ neck. “But if you want me to stay, just say the word and I’ll give them an excuse.”

“Okay.” Louis nods, pulling out of the tight embrace and staring up at him hopefully. “Don’t leave.” He gulps, “hang out with me tonight.”

Harry laughs a little, but then the smile wipes entirely off of his face. “Wait- you serious?” 

 Yes. Yes, he was. But the panicked look in Harry’s face lets him know that no matter what he asks for, Harry won't change his plans. Not for boring ole-him. Louis’ never a worthy choice compared to his precious teammates. 

“No, obviously not.” Louis says, brushing it off as a joke and this time actually succeeds in doing so. “I was just talking shit.”  

“Oh, thank God.” Harry breathes in relief, as he begins speed walking towards the front door. “Don’t worry, I’ll be over soon enough to beat your ass at mario kart again.” Harry says, throwing a wink towards Louis. 

“Don’t count on it.” Louis says as he watches Harry do up his high-top sneakers. “Bye, Harry.” He says weakly when his friend is done doing up his shoes, but the only response he receives is the shutting of the door.  

“Go Montgomeries Go.” He whispers,  looking through the window at Harry jogging to greet his new friends at the end of his driveway.  

----

 15 years old  

“Hey,” Louis says over the phone, “are you free to come over? I got the new fifa.” He asks his friend who hasn't come over in almost a month.  

“Uhhh-i’m not actually.” Harry replies, Louis can hear a group of people talking and laughing loudly in the background. “I’m out with my friends and - hey, can I just call you back later?”  

“Sure, talk to-” 

“Okay, bye.” Harry says, hanging up before Louis could finish the rest of his sentence.  

“Bye.” Louis says, looking down at his phone.  

He dials a different number.  

“Hey, Lou.” Zayn answers after the first ring. “What’s up? 

“Wanna come over?” He asks nervously, him and Zayn are close but they aren’t exactly that close as of yet. “I got the new fifa…” 

“Heck yeah. Text me your address.” 

Louis smiles slowly to himself, “yeah. Yeah, okay.”  

---- 

15 years old  

The guilt hits him like a train the second he ends the call. Harry squeezes the phone in his palm, fighting the urge to call Louis back. He’s doing the right thing. He knows he is.  He downs the cold beer in his hand, relishing the taste and the calming effect it has lately been delivering.  

“Trouble in paradise?” Nick asks, sliding his body onto the stool next to him. He takes a beer from Lucas, who's playing bartender in Marcus’ basement and pops it open with the front of his teeth. “Your girl mad at you?” 

Harry twists around to him, “what?”

“On the phone?” Nick nods towards the phone in his hand. “Was it your girlfriend? Bethany?” He teases, knocking their shoulders together like there’s some inside joke going on between them.  

Harry shakes his head,  “no, it was just Louis.”

“Oi, that fucking fairy?” One of the Riley brothers screams, Harry doesn’t turn around to look, slightly ashamed, slightly pissed that guys like Louis are considered fairies, while sporty guys like him and Nick, who are actually bisexual and gay, are not.  

“Shut the fuck up, Steven.”  Marcus says, shooting Harry an apologetic glance from the side of the room.  

Nick takes a big gulp of his beer, “are you guys more than friends?”  

“Nope. Just friends.” That’s all they’ll ever be. Just friends. Fuck, he needs a stronger drink. He reaches over the counter and pours some strong smelling liquor from a fancy bottle into a glass.  

“Why didn’t you invite him over then?” Nick asks. “Marcus wouldn't mind….Louis’ cool.” 

Well, he does mind. There’s nothing more that he wants to do than to spend every moment with Louis, but he can’t. His feelings are spiraling and the only way to suppress them is by avoiding him. And his father has finally stopped making snippy comments about their friendship. He doesn’t want to ruin that anytime too soon.  

“Next time.” Harry lies.  

---- 

16 years old 

“You ever done molly?” Lucas asks him, while he rolls a joint next to him on the ground. 

Harry shakes his head, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. “I only smoke.” He says, staring at his phone in his hand. Another missed call from Louis.  

“Whose blowing up your phone?” 

Harry pockets it quickly, “no one.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, licking the paper. “Yeah right, which bitch is begging to suck your dick tonight?” 

Harry doesn’t mean to, but he laughs like the fuckboy he is. “Who isn’t begging? Everyone wants a piece of me.” Because who doesn’t want to fuck Harry motherfucking Styles? 

“I don’t.” 

“Yeah. But you’re a guy. So…”

“So?”

Harry grows tense, “I wouldn’t have expected you to want that.”

Lucas takes his eyes off him to take a drag from his joint. He then offers Harry some, which Harry gladly takes.  “Thanks.” He mumbles, “what time are we heading to the party?” Harry asks, taking a long drag before handing it back.  

“We can leave now if you want, just let me change first.” Lucas puts out the joint in the ashtray in front of them, and begins to stand up off the ground. Unfortunately, he places his arm too far to the right and tips the beer bottle all over Harry's lap.  

“Crap!” Harry shouts, jumping up and glaring at the asshole who loves pissing him off everyday. 

Lucas smiles innocently, not even offering an apology.   Lucas whips off his shirt without a care, showing off his six pack and the cross tattoo over his heart. “You want to borrow something?” 

“I’ll need boxers too, dickhead.” Harry grumbles. He takes off his beer soaked jeans and heads to Lucas’ bathroom. “You alright with me taking a shower?” 

“Go ahead. The towels are on the rack.” 

Once inside the bathroom, Harry tosses off the remaining clothes and sets his phone on the counter. His finger hovers over the call back button for a second, but he can’t deal with hearing Louis’ voice tonight. Today’s already been enough of a bummer, he doesn’t need to be reminded of another way he’s a fuckup. He spends a little over 2 minutes in the shower, cleaning off the stickiness on his thighs and then soaks up the steamy heat to blur Louis from his mind. He dries off rather fast and wraps the towel around his waist before going back out into Lucas’ room. He finds Lucas on the ground staring out the window, while smoking. Again. 

“Aren’t you high enough?”  

“You can never be too high.” 

Harry shakes his head, Lucas and his fucking drug problems. He grabs the boxers laid on the bed for him and pulls them on and then throws his towel into the laundry basket next to the door. “Where’s the clothes?” 

Lucas waves towards his closet uncaringly, “just pick something.” 

Harry mutters ‘fucker’ under his breath,  and starts sliding through the clothes in the closet. He snorts when he passes another studded leather jacket and a skull t-shirt. “You have anything that isn’t borderline serial killer in here?” 

Lucas gives him the finger. 

Harry grabs a pair of gray sweats and puts back on his dirty shirt. “Let’s go. We’re stopping at my place first. I can’t wear clothes that make me look mentally unstable.” 

He expects Lucas to curse him out for the comment, but his not-friend doesn’t say anything in retaliation. He puts out his weed and grabs his car keys, and then shouts to his mom that he’s leaving.  

“Luke, please go easy on yourself tonight.” She says from where she’s sat on the sofa with a cup of tea in her hand. She’s wearing sweats and her black and gray hair tied into a tight bun.  She looks so tired. Fragile. Scared.  

 “ Lo haré mamá. Te amo.” 

 When they’re both sitting in his beat up old car, Harry can’t stop himself from asking. “Is your mom okay?” 

“That’s none of your fucking business, Styles.” Lucas says, turning up the radio loud.  

He doesn’t ask again.  

They listen  to one of their teammate’s mixtapes on the short journey to his house. When they pull into his driveway, he lets out a breath of relief to see Louis’ lights off. He’s probably asleep or gone out by now, they can catch up tomorrow.  

“Are you going in or what?”  

Harry snaps his head towards him, “no, I planned to sit here all night you fucking idiot.” 

“Lucas!” Harry’s father exclaims, coming down the porch steps. “If it isn’t the future star player of Mongomery! Your mother must be so proud of you.”  

Harry steps out of the car, not wanting to hear the rest of his father’s compliments. His father loves his teammates more than he does his own son. Harry walks past both of them huddled in front of his garage and heads straight to his room.  

A few minutes later, Lucas enters his room while Harry’s shirtless and pulling up his black skinny jeans. Harry barely glances at him, “you could’ve waited in the car.” He mumbles annoyed, walking over to his dresser to find a neutral colour t-shirt. 

“Nah. Your father said he’s going out for the night and forgot his key. He asked me to lock the door for him.”

Harry rolls his eyes, another night away. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen his father home before midnight. 

“Your father’s sort of an ass, isn’t he?”  

“What makes you say that?” 

“He thanked me for keeping you away from your faggot friend.” 

Harry’s fingers falter, the white tee in his hand dropping back into the drawer. He swallows harshly, “what did you say?” He asks, looking up in his mirror to see Lucas’ reflection behind him.

Lucas meets his eyes through the mirror. “Nothing.” He shrugs, “who was he referring to anyway? That guy that hangs out with Zayn?”

Who would have thought that Louis, the guy he spent most of his life with, is only known as the person who hangs out with Zayn. Never Harry, only Zayn. “Yup. That’s him.” He says, fishing out a black shirt and putting it over his naked chest. “Let’s go.” 

“Have you ever hooked-up with him?”  

“Who i’ve been with is none of your fucking business, Smith.” 

“Touche,” Lucas smirks. “That’s what I wanted to tell your father.” 

Harry scoffs, grabbing his varsity jacket off his desk chair and putting it on. “Then why didn’t you?” 

“I don’t know. Guess I didn’t want him to think I take it up the ass like your friend over there.” 

Harry doesn’t think, he never does when it comes to Lucas. He only moves. He grabs Lucas by the collar and slams him against his dresser. “Don’t ever speak about him like that again. Don’t even look at him, you piece of shit.” He hisses, tightening his grip. 

“Well would you looky there, Mr. Harry Styles does have feelings after all. I guess he’s another person that doesn’t want a piece of you, huh?” 

 Harry aims a punch to Lucas’ face, but he ducks right in time. 

“Aww baby, did the faggot reject you?”  

“Fuck you.” 

“I bet he wouldn’t reject me.” 

This time when he throws a punch, Lucas doesn’t dodge it instead he grabs Harry’s arm and pulls him forward until their chest collides. Lucas smiles triumphantly in his face, “You scared that I’m right?” 

“Stay the fuck away from him.” Harry says seriously. It’s no secret that every person Lucas touches falls into a dungeon of darkness, becoming either an addict or heartbroken because they couldn’t ‘change’ the heartless boy. He’s more worried about the former than the ladder because Louis’ straight, but Louis also has a habit of messing with drugs. He’s by no means an addict but he’s witnessed his lifelong friend pop pills during parties with his new best buddy Zayn. “I mean it, Lucas. Don’t drag him into your bullshit.”

“How do you know I don’t like him too? He’s kinda cute.”  

“Last I heard you like pussy.” Harry pulls his arm out of the tight grasp. “So don’t fake it now just to piss me off.” 

“Fake it?” Lucas, always one to prove a point, crowds Harry against his dresser and presses his lips to his, kissing him rough, like an expert. But he’s shaking. Lucas is shaking. 

Harry shoves him backwards, eyes wide. “Have you lost your mind?”  

Ever so carefree, Lucas smirks, but his eyes still hold the fear that Harry felt moments ago. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it?” 

Harry clenches his fist at his side, and Lucas follows the movement. “Would you even know what to do if you got him?” Lucas asks, bringing his eyes back up to look Harry in the face. “Have you ever fucked a guy before?…. Or touched one?”

Harry swallows, “no.”  He says, looking away embarrassingly. 

“Good.” Lucas exhales shakily, “me either. We can practice.” He says, throwing himself down on Harry’s bed. “Fuck me.”  

“What? I-I don’t even know what to do.” 

“It’s fine.” Lucas says, reaching an arm out to take Harry’s hand. “We’ll figure it out.” He says, before pulling Harry down on top of him and pressing their lips together. “You’re okay with this?” Lucas asks against his lips.

Harry nods quickly, pushing him down into the mattress. It’s fast, sloppy, a means to an end. By the time it’s all over, Harry’s staring at the ceiling with a mind full of questions.

“My mom is sick.” Lucas says so quietly, his voice barely a whisper.  

Harry looks over at him, “I’m sorry.”  

Lucas shrugs, covering his sniffle with a cough. He turns on his side to fully face Harry, his face scrunching up in pain in the process. 

“Did I hurt you?” 

Lucas snorts, “this is far from real pain.” 

The dark clouds in Lucas’ eyes makes Harry know he’s speaking the truth. Harry moves closer to him and wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him closer to his chest. 

Lucas goes rigid in his arms, “what the fuck are you doing, Styles? I’m not one of your clingy bitches. Get off me.”

Harry tightens his hold. “Shut up, Lucas.”

Lucas doesn’t say anything else, but his wet chest is more than enough to know Lucas has nothing left to say. 

“I think Louis likes you too. He looks at you the same I look at …” Lucas mumbles before drifting off to sleep.  

Harry shakes his head, smiling sadly at the ceiling. “He sees me like a fucking brother.” Harry says to no one. 

----

16 years old

Harry watches his drink swirl around in his cup. His eyes still feel blurred over from the joint he had earlier, his head tingly and body light. Harry brings his cup up to his mouth, opting for sprite instead of alcohol tonight, and swallows down every last drop.  An hour ago, turning down beers seemed like a good idea, but now his body is humming with the craving to get drunk. But he knows it won’t be a smart idea, not after what happened last time he got drunk. Poor Nick was a victim of his word vomit weeks ago, listening to Harry wax poetry about the boy with blue topaz eyes.  

He’s not all that worried about his secret getting out, he trusts Nick. He’s his closest friend.  

“You okay, bro?” Damion asks. 

Harry nods weakly, “yeah. Imma take a walk. Be back in a few.” 

Damien nods and returns back to his conversation with Marcus who is trying to teach him how to pull girls. 

He leaves his friends and heads upstairs to the kitchen to re-fill his cup. Harry lets out an exhale in the empty room, leaning against the wall. He’s so tired of pretending. So fucking tired.  He brings the cup up to his lips, whispering a tiny: “fuck” when he looks over the rim. Shit, he needs to leave before— “Harry!”

Dammit.  

Harry plasters a fake smile onto his face for Louis and Zayn. Louis whispers something to Zayn, and walks over to Harry, while Zayn leaves the kitchen with his eyes sending daggers at him.  

“Hey, Haz.” Louis smiles up at him, his cheeks dusted with pink. 

He looks beautiful.

Who is he kidding, Louis always looks beautiful, but tonight is different. His black jeans hug his thighs nicely, and his low cut red top reveals his soft stomach every time he lifts his arms up. Harry’s tempted to reach around Louis’ small waist and bring his body close to his. He wants to feel everything. 

 “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. How’ve you been?” 

“Busy, you know … with football and stuff...” Harry mumbles into his cup, avoiding Louis’ eyes and ignoring the improper thoughts about his best friend.  

“You’re always busy.”

Harry lifts his eyes, giving Louis an ironic smile. “So are you.”  

Harry may avoid Louis more days than not, but Louis avoids Harry just as much. He’s gone over to Louis’ house many times this month just to find out that he’s not even there. 

Louis looks down, and plays with his fingers, a nervous tactic that Harry’s never seen him do before. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been dealing with some stuff. Maybe we can meet up sometime next week and I don’t know… talk?”

Dealing with stuff? From where he stands, Louis looks perfectly fine. It’s probably something stupid. Louis considers everything to be ‘serious’ or ‘talk worthy’, and half the time it's the most ridiculous shit he's ever heard.  

“Yeah, of course.” Harry nods. “I’ll text you next week or something.” 

Louis’ smile is blinding when he hears these words, then he begins talking about all the fun things he’s been doing lately. Harry loses interest once he hears Zayn’s name being thrown into the mix.  

He notices Bethany standing by herself in the corner of the living room corner, looking all shy and hot, clearly waiting for someone to approach her. She looks up, and notices Harry’s eyes on her. She smiles slowly and bites her bottom lip teasingly, eyeing Harry up and down. He can feel her eyes inviting him in, and Harry smirks back in response, sending his signature dimple to make her know his plans. It’s decided, Bethany will be his hook up for tonight. Like she was yesterday. And the day before that. 

“Wait- are you leaving?” Louis asks, when Harry starts walking away. He grabs Harry’s hand, intertwining their fingers in the process. “Why do you keep running away from me?”  

He squeezes Louis’ palm in hand and opens his mouth to apologize, but  “duty calls.” is what he says, winking in Bethany’s direction, and leaving Louis by himself. It may hurt him, and maybe Louis in the long run, but things will go back to normal soon. He knows so. He just needs to hook up with some more people, and stop picturing Louis in their place, then he can get his best friend back. 

When he turns around to see if Louis is still there, he spots Nick walk into the kitchen. A sick feeling swarms his stomach, urging him to turn around, but when Bethany’s fingers wrap around his wrist, all he can do is hope Nick doesn’t spill his secret to Louis.  

  ----

16 years old 

“Harry,” Bethany moans loudly underneath him.  

“Sssh,” Harry groans, reaching up and covering her mouth with his hand when he feels the tell tale signs that she is about to cum. The tight grip around him sends him over the edge, burying his head in her neck to drown out his own sounds.  

“Fuck, that was good.” Bethany breathes heavily when he gets off her. He throws out the condom and then lays back down with a big distance between them. Bethany, not one good at social cues, crowds against him and puts her head on his shoulder. “What are your plans for the night?” She asks, tracing his abs with her long fingernails.  

Harry grabs her hand, taking it off him and pushing her off his chest altogether. “Sleep.” He says the obvious, “you should leave. It’s late.”  

“Gosh, you’re such a dick, Harry.” She snaps, as she gets out the bed and pulls back on her clothes angrily.  

Harry rolls his eyes and rolls over, and then he hears his room door slam shut. 

Fucking bitch. 

He waits 2 minutes before he tiptoes out of his bedroom, needing to check if his parents are still asleep. He presses his ears to the door.

“Do you think something happened between him and Louis?” 

Harry’s heart stops beating. 

“What do you mean?” His father asks with an edge, “has Harry been hanging out with him?”

“No, Des. That’s what I’m talking about. Why isn’t he hanging out with him anymore?”

“That’s what you're worried about? Harry’s finally being a normal kid and getting girls, and you’re worried about him not hanging out with that wuss? Boys like Louis don’t need to be around your son, they’d just turn him into a faggot.”

There’s no more speaking, there’s not a sound, nor a breath, but there is a slap that echoes all the way out of the room.  “Let go of me.” His mother’s voice says strongly, but then it grows frantic the second time. “Let go!”

Harry rushes through the door, his eyes zeroing on the deathly grip his father has around his mother’s arm. They both look at him, his mother close to tears and his father scowling at him with a red palm print against his cheek. Harry pushes him away, blocking Anne from his line of vision.  

“Oh, look at you. You think you’re so tough now,” Des laughs, before whispering in his ear. “Don’t start a fight you can’t finish. Faggots never win.” 

He sees red. And then he actually sees red, his hands pummeling into his fathers ribs and then his stomach, landing punches on all the places his father kicked him. He kicks him for the kid that cried himself to sleep that night, he kicks him for his mother that for some reason always chooses his side over Harry’s, he kicks him because all he wants to do is be close again with  the boy next door but he can’t. He can’t.  

“Harry! Harry! Stop!”  

He spins around to find his mom bent over, her hand covering her mouth to stifle her loud wails. And his sister, oh his sister, she’s pissed. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Gemma screams in tears. 

“Gem, he-” 

“Shut up, Harry!” She pushes him out of the way to kneel beside their dad. “Daddy, are you okay?” 

His father breathes heavily, his eyes stuck on Harry. “Yes, honey. I’m fine. Stop crying, love.” His father says to her softly, treating her like a father is supposed to treat his child.  “Remember when I told you that your brother gets angry sometimes? He just got a little angry, didn’t you, Harry?” His father asks, groaning in pain when he readjusts his position. “I think it would be best if I leave the house for a couple of days. Just to lessen the tension in the air.” 

“Dad, no!” Gemma cries, “Harry should be the one to leave, not you! Tell him, mum!” Then  Gemma turns to him, the hate in her eyes no different than the hate he receives from his father. “God, you ruin everything!” 

Harry looks at his mom to see if she’ll say anything, defend him maybe, but she holds her head down. She must blame him too. Harry looks away, he looks away from them all and keeps his gaze on the ground and his bruised knuckles. He tunes out the rest of Gemma’s hateful words, and remembers she’s young and that his father is good at manipulating people to get what he wants. But he keeps his ears open for at least one of his parents to remember he’s their kid too, for one of his parents to rescue him from this. But like always, they don’t. His father hates him, and his mother loves her husband.  

He lifts his head and looks all three of them in the eye, “Gemma’s right. I’ll go.” 

His mom opens his mouth, but then shuts it, doing exactly what Harry knew she would.   

He goes to his room, packing a small backpack with a few things and heads next door. He sees the living room light on. Good. He thought Louis would be out with Zayn or something, since his mom and sisters are out for the weekend, but looks like he stayed in for a change. At least he doesn’t have to climb through the window – he can just go to the front door. 

He knocks on the door and places his backpack on the ground, placing it behind the flower pot. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Louis before he explains everything.  

Every single thing.  

The door opens slowly and Harry braces himself, knowing the reaction won’t be a pretty one. He just hopes Louis can forgive him for avoiding him for so long.  

A moment later he realizes he was correct, the reaction isn’t a pretty one.  

“I think I’m in love with him.” Harry told Nick weeks ago in confidence after dancing with Louis in the hallway, “I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.”

Nick said nothing to him. He didn’t give him that motivational speech like he used to, he just sat there and said nothing. 

Now he gets why Nick didn't have anything to say.   

He took the last person Harry had left.  

----

17  years old 

Louis feels him before he sees him.  

His arms snake around him from behind, wrapped tightly around his waist. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” Nick whispers into his ear before spinning him around and kissing him in the middle of the busy hallway. 

Louis pushes him away and blushes furiously after noticing a congregation of people staring at them in disgust, except for Marcus who smiles slightly and gives Louis a small wave. Louis waves back awkwardly, a little stunned Marcus is even saying hi to him.   

“You need to stop kissing me in front of everyone.” He says to his boyfriend, “I don’t like how they stare at me.”

“Who cares? Let them stare. You should never feel ashamed of who you are.” 

“Ew look at the disgusting couple stinking up the halls with their cuteness.” Zayn teases, walking to his locker that is next to Louis’. He takes out his english textbook, and passes Louis his sweater he left in there a couple of days ago. “So what do you guys have planned tonight?” Zayn smirks, leaning against his shut locker. “Other than hanky panky, of course.”  

Louis turns beet red, while Nick’s eyes light up. 

Nick takes it upon himself to answer for then, “well I for one would have loved to wine and dine your dear friend Louis over here, but he would rather be a grumpy old man and stay in and watch movies.” 

“You told me you were okay with us staying in!” 

“What other choice do I have? I want to spend the day with you. If that is what you want to do, then we'll do it.” 

“Awe Louuu.” Zayn gushes, “Let your boyfriend pamper you! Not all of us are so lucky to have a valentine.”  

“Look what you’ve done, now you have Zayn guilt tripping me.” Louis scowls and swats Nick’s chest, “we always go out for dinner. Why is tonight going to be any different?”

“Because tonight’s the night of love.” Louis ignores Nick’s emphasis on the word love. “And I want to show you how much you mean to me.” 

“Okay,” Louis gives in. “But I have one condition…” 

“Anything.”

“No gifts.”

Nick looks ready to protest, but Louis stands firm. “Do we have a deal?” 

“Fine.” 

~

12 hours later, he's wearing a new necklace, while Harry's words play on loop in his head. Blue topaz. 

----

17 years old 

“Look what I scored!" Zayn shouts, throwing a huge pile of drugs on the kitchen counter. "We’re about to get fucked up tonight!”  

Despite all the familiar items on the table, Louis' eyes only see the small white baggy, “Is that cocaine?” He asks surprised, “you’ve done that before?”  

“Yeah, from time-to-time. It’s good. You wanna try?” 

Should he? He looks around the party, only seeing people popping pills. Except for Lucas Smith who's known for doing every drug under the sun and faking all his pee tests for football. Lucas lifts his head from the white line, and smiles at Louis as if they're friends. They're not. They've never spoken to each other before. 

Louis looks back at Zayn and shrugs, “sure. Why not.” What's the worst that can happen? 

Zayn spreads out the powder on the kitchen counter, using his student card to divide the powder. “Do you know how to do it?”

Louis shakes his head.

“It’s easy. Just watch me.” Louis pays close attention, watching Zayn bring his head close to the table and snorts all the powder inside his nose. When he’s done, he smiles slowly and rubs the excess powder off his nose. “Your turn.” 

Louis does the same and when he lifts his head, he feels exactly the same. “I don’t feel anything?” 

“You gotta give it a minute to set in.”   Zayn pours him tequila mixed with some red liquid. “Let’s get some drinks into you in the meantime.”

Louis takes the cup and sips on the sour drink. “Where were you earlier?”

“I got into a fight with my mom.” 

Louis frowns, “everything okay?” 

"It will be. We’re leaving for college soon anyway, I won’t have to deal with her bullshit rules for much longer.”  

"That's true." Louis brings the bitter tasting drink back to his lips. After another sip, the world room starts getting less loud.  

It’s quiet. 

It’s never been this quiet before. 

He likes the quiet. 

“It’s good shit, ain’t it?” Zayn sighs next to him, his pupils blown wide.

Louis nods in a daze, could the world always be this quiet? Could his mind always be this silent? 

“Let’s go dance!” Zayn says, dragging him to the other room. One second he’s staring through a colourful haze and the next second he’s dancing in between other sweaty bodies, soaking up all the euphoria in the air. Everything feels heightened. Happiness. Love. Lust. 

Quiet.  

Louis has his back to Zayn’s front, his ass pressed against the hard-on his friend is sporting. Louis tips his head back, staring at Zayn from under his lashes. “I always knew you wanted me.” Louis teases. 

“Fuck off.” Zayn grumbles, switching their positions. Louis circles his arms around Zayn’s waist as he moves his body to the beat much better than Louis ever could. He gets lost in watching Zayn’s movements and then gets lost when a fit girl walks over to them and starts kissing on Zayn’s neck. Zayn stops dancing, nudging Louis out of the way.

Louis backs away from them, getting the message loud and clear. It’s about time he finds Nick anyway.  

He makes his way over to the beer table, picking up a red cup and filling it with lukewarm water in the kitchen. He leans his body against the kitchen table, eyeing the crowd over the rim of his cup. And-woah. They're really going at it.  

Everything suddenly gets loud again.

He stumbles out of the crowded room, gripping the walls the best he can to stay upright. 

"Louis!"

He stops and looks up at those faded green eyes, nothing like the eyes of the boy that his tongue down some random guy’s throat. 

“Hey, babe? Louis? Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself ?” 

Louis blinks up at him, he feels his mouth moving but he can’t hear what he is saying. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. It’s loud. 

Everything’s too fucking loud.  

“What are you going on abo…” Nick stops speaking as his focus lands somewhere else. He looks back down at Louis after a minute, and smiles stiffly. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

Nick leads him out of the party while he sinks lower and lower into a drug fused haze. When he comes back to himself with watery eyes and a horrible headache, Nick is curled up on the floor fast asleep.   

“Nick.” Louis groans, kicking his boyfriend’s sleeping body. “Why are you on the floor? Come up here.” 

Nick blinks his eyes open, revealing his red rims and puffy sockets. Nick must have had a heavy night of drinking. 

“Nick?” Louis says hesitantly when Nick doesn’t move.

“I have to go.” Nick stammers, hiding his face. 

Louis sits up, “what? why?” He watches Nick stand up anxiously and pull on a hoodie. “Where the fuck are you going? It’s not even morning!” 

Nick ignores his words, closing the door behind him.  

---- 

18 years old  

“And Montgomery wins!”  

“Yaaaa!!” Harry screams at the top of his lungs, running towards Marcus and jumping on him after he made the winning touchdown of the season. They are the winners for the first time in 15 years. 15 fucking years. The whole team piles on Marcus, and although Harry can hear every swear word in the dictionary being spilled from Marcus’ mouth, he looks at him just in time to see that blinding smile. 

They slowly get up one by one and hug one another in excitement, some cry and some run to greet their cheerleading girlfriends. Harry just stands there and holds his helmets by the tip of his fingers and takes it all in.  Bethany snakes her arm around his Jersey, looking up at him with those lovey dovey eyes. 

“Baby, are you coming to the party tonight?” 

Harry looks at the scene in front of him. Marcus laughing on the ground with Lucas next to him who is trying to hide his own smile; Damion clapping for them in the sidelines with his glasses hanging crookedly on his face; Niall who's in a tight embrace with Hailee looking down at her with an adoration he hasn’t seen in a while. They all look happy.  

“No.” Harry decides then, he doesn’t need a distraction tonight. He may not be the happiest but he’s content enough to not go out to just fuck around. He’ll have a quiet night in and get some needed rest after that hard game. He hasn’t done that in a while. Just spend time with himself.  

Bethany pouts, “but I’m going to be alone.” She whines in her high pitched voice. “Please?” 

“Not this time. I’ll go to Ryan’s party tomorrow.” Harry says, bending down slightly to give her a friendly hug. “Have fun tonight.”

"Whatever.” She scowls, stomping off to join the rest of her cheer team. 

He waits off at the side for his teammates to come off the field for a few minutes, and then the coach calls them all over. Coach Jeffrey says his congratulations and then ushers them to the area to get their trophy. They all touch the gold medal while the photographer snaps the picture that will forever be framed on the school’s walls.   The locker room is just as chaotic as it was on the field with them screaming and jumping, and enjoying the win they’ve worked their asses off for months, years really. They switch out of their sweaty uniform and freshen up before putting back on their suit. 

“Looking good, champion.” Damion whistles as Harry does his tie up in the mirror. 

“Last I heard non-teammates weren’t allowed in here.”

“You know I’m practically on the team at this point.”

When they’re all dressed and exiting the locker room, he spots him. The team’s jersey hanging off his body makes him look hotter than ever. 

“Congratulations!” Louis screams, running towards him with open arms.  

Harry’s eyes widen, he instantly drops his bag to the ground and is about to open his arm to hug his friend that he hasn’t touched properly in years, but then Louis runs past him. He runs all the way to the last person, throwing himself into Lucas’ arms.  

His breath catches. 

“Luke, you killed it out there!”  

“Thanks.” Lucas smiles darkly. Lucas looks at Harry while he asks Louis: “you celebrating with me tonight, baby?” 

“Obviously.” Louis responds, like it really is the most obvious thing in the world. What the fuck? “My house or yours?” 

“Neither. I have a surprise for you.” 

“Yeah?” Louis licks his lips, looking up at Lucas with wide glazed eyes.  

“Yeah. I think you’re gonna love it.” Lucas answers slowly, his seductive flirting tone does not go unnoticed from any of the other boys. It comes as a surprise to the rest of them, but not to him. 

“Hey,” Lucas turns to them, “I’m skipping the party tonight. So whoever was planning to get a ride with me needs to figure something else out. Later.” Lucas says, walking out the school leaving not only a dumbfounded Harry, but a pissed Marcus as well.  

Marcus schools back his features into his regular relaxed face. “You wanna ride with me to the party?” Marcus asks Harry.

“Yea.” Harry mumbles, “yeah, i’m in. Let’s go.” 

 ---

18 years old

Harry keeps his head buried in the palms of his hands. He doesn’t have to look up to know everyone’s eyes are on him. He could feel their pitying glances from a mile away.  

“Harry.” 

“Harry.” Marcus repeats louder than the hospital beds being pushed around them.  

Harry raises his head slowly and looks at Marcus and then at Damion and Niall. 

“The feds are hot. We have to get our stories straight.” 

Damion shakes his head, “Marcus, it was your party. You’ll end up taking the fall regardless. We have to find a different way around this.” 

“Then what do you suggest we do, huh?” Marcus snaps. 

“Tell the cops it was Lucas.” Niall replies.  

“If we tell the cops that, it will be his third strike. He’ll be charged as an adult. We can’t tell them it was him selling.” 

“Why does it even fucking matter?” Niall snarls, “I’m not going to risk my future for him, matter of fact, none of us should. You don’t always have to play the hero Marcus, make Lucas take care of himself for a change.” 

Marcus stays quiet, but Harry tracks his movement, watching him squeeze the arms of the hospital chair. He looks up at Marcus’ face, seeing his eyes hold the same pain that he currently feels about Louis being hooked up.  

Fuck. How did he not see it before?  

“I’ll say it was me.” 

Everyone swings their head towards Damion. 

“The hell you are.” Niall hisses, “you’ll lose your scholarship. You won’t be able to afford college without it.” 

Damion shrugs, “he’s my friend. And since you guys haven’t realized, he’s been struggling. A lot. His mom probably won’t even make it till Christmas.”  

Marcus’ jaw clenches tighter. “I’ll do it. I can afford school. And my dads a lawyer, he’ll take care of me.”

“You can’t go pro with a criminal record.” Niall screams without screaming, “what the fuck is wrong with you guys? None of us are-“ his mouth clams shut when he hears a set of heavy feets walking towards them. 

“Which one of you are Marcus Williams?” 

Marcus clears his throat, “that would be me, sir.” 

“We would like a word with you.”  

“I’m 17. You can’t speak to me until my father gets here.” 

One of the cops smiles coldly, “is that so, smart guy? Well then I’ll talk to the rest of your friends.” He turns to Niall, spotting the weakest link amongst the 4. “Were you aware that drugs were being sold at the party?” 

“N-no, s-sir.” Niall stammers out, his ears turning pink.  

The cop walks closer to him, leaning over him to intimidate him. “Do you know who was selling the drugs?”

“No” Niall repeats, his voice trembling. 

The cop smirks, “are you sure?” 

Marcus opens his mouth, but Harry beats him to it.

“It’s me.” Harry exhales, “I’m the dealer.” 

“Kid, we know you want to protect your friend but-” 

“It was me.” He says again confidently, since lying is his second nature.  

“Okay,” a cop standing at the back scoffs, “prove it.” 

Harry reaches into his pockets, pulling out all the drugs he found on Louis while giving him cpr. “This enough proof? Sorry I don’t have more, I flushed the rest. ”  

The cops pull out their handcuffs, and he turns around. They repeat the standard “keep your hands behind your back,” but he ignores them and stares at Jay across the hall. He sends her a private smile and mouths to her “call my dad.” 

~

“I raised you better than this! Drugs? Drugs?” 

Harry rests his head on the cold iron table in front of him, he hopes Louis is doing better. 

“Son, are you listening to me?”

Harry lifts his head and looks his father dead in the eye, “I’m your son now? You forget I’m a faggot?”  

His father curses under his breath, “this would have never happened if Anne kept you away from that boy.” 

“I'd still want to.” 

“Want to what?” His father asks challengingly, like he thinks Harry will shrink away like he used to. 

“Fuck him.” Harry says slowly, emphasizing each word to provoke his father.  

“You disgust me.” His father slaps the table loudly, “I was a good father to you! You ungrateful brat. I just wanted the best for you.”

“Well look where it got my, daddy." Harry smiles proudly, “prison is manly enough for you, right?” 

His father slams the room door on his way out.  

Marcus comes in a few minutes later, pulling up a chair to sit across from him. “My dad says he can pull some strings. The most you’ll get is a month or two of community service.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”  

 “You don't owe me a thing. Seriously. I know you and Lucas aren’t on good terms, so it means a lot to me that you did this for him.” 

“You think I did this for that scumbag?" Harry laughs coldly, "he could rot in prison for all I care.”

Marcus' face twists in confusion. 

“I did it for you.” Harry leans closer, as close as his cuffs can stretch. “Why didn’t you tell me about you two?” 

A hard shield goes up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry nods sadly, understanding. "Your secret is safe with me. I swear.” 

Marcus looks away, “Is there anything else you need? You know I got you covered.” 

“I need you to tell Zayn not to say anything to Louis. Actually, I need none of you guys to mention this to him.” 

“Why?”  

“His memory…” Harry shakes his head to keep his emotions at bay, Louis probably won’t ever remember their kiss. Their fight.  “He can’t remember much right now. Last I heard is that he still thinks it’s Junior year.” 

“What does his mum think?” 

“She agrees with me.”  

“ight, I’ll spread the word. Anything else?”  

“Yeah, one more thing. Get him help. The best kind.” 

—-

18 years old

“I’m Louis.” He says to the group of young adults that have empty eyes just like him. They must all be fresh out of rehab as well, thrown into this whole new world that is disguised as the ‘college experience’. It’s hell. And loud. Way too fucking loud.  

The group leader, Matt, nods encouragingly at him with a bright smile. “Welcome, Louis. It's nice to meet you.” The rest of the group parrots the same thing. He doesn’t return the sentiment.  

“Would you like to share why you’re here?” Matt asks gently.  

He bites back the snide remark : 'that he’s only here because it’s too difficult to score drugs with everyone watching him'. Sobriety. Fuck this is really his life now. Yet, when he speaks; what he says is even a shock to him, “ I don't want my mom to bury me. ”  

For some sick reason, that makes the older man smile.  

When the meeting is over, Louis rushes out before he gets swarmed with annoying questions, like: “how are you feeling?”

He doesn’t feel anything. He hasn’t in a long time. But he's not depressed. He's fine. He just feels empty sometimes. It's normal. Lucas says he feels it too. He walks up to his crumbling building. It's not the most attractive thing to look at but it's his home for the next four years. He steps past the broken elevators and climbs the stairs two at a time to make it to the fifth floor. The hallway is quiet when he reaches his floor, except for one person down the hall that seems to be moving in, large brown boxes surrounding him. The stranger kicks the door, trying to rattle it open but it won't budge. "Fucking garbage." He mutters,   pushing the hood off of his head aggressively. 

“No.” Louis breathes out, chest tight and air gone. 

Harry turns towards him, his eyebrows rising with his widening eyes. “Louis!" He shouts, giving Louis a smile that hasn’t been directed at him in years. At least, that’s what he remembers. No. He's sure he hasn't seen that smile in years, Harry didn't visit him in the hospital. Not once. Or rehab. If they were friends again, his mum would've told Harry everything and he would've been by his side throughout his journey, like a friend is supposed to be. Zayn never missed a visitation.

Harry walks over to him, his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes reflecting relief. 

“Hi- Louis. I was hoping to-uhm-to-uh-r-run into you.” Harry says, fumbling over his words. “How’ve you been?” He settles on.

Louis’ lips turn flat. “What are you doing here?”  

Harry’s smile wavers, “….I live here?” 

“Yeah, I get that. But why?” 

Harry brows pinch, “you’re mad at me.” 

Mad doesn’t even come close to how he’s feeling, he may not remember much but his emotions have been a key to his healing. Harry did something. He doesn’t know what, maybe he ignored him? Humiliated him in front of a crowd? Who knows. But whatever he did is the reason for this unkind feeling.   

“Do you rem-” 

“Why are you here?” Louis snaps, cutting off whatever Harry was going to say. “I go to a school miles away to get away from you, yet you’re still fucking here. Like a fucking leech." Louis storms towards his door, and then pauses. He whirls around and faces Harry lividly, "my mom put you up to this, didn’t she? How much is she paying you to watch over me?” God, he can't believe his mother would stoop this low. 

Harry opens his mouth silently, looking lost for words. His face hurt. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not here to-” He swallows, his face shifting in the blink of an eye. “You're right.” He smiles condescendingly, looking like the Harry from his memories.  “The only reason I’m here is because I was forced to be here. But not by your mom. My mom was worried about me moving so far away, and since you're here, I was forced to go with my second option for schools. Looks like we’re neighbours again, neighbour.” 

“Just stay out of my way and everything will be fine.”

“Wow." Harry smiles sarcastically, "here I was thinking we could be friends again.” 

“When hell freezes over.”

--- 

19 years old 

He walks to the door half asleep, holding a bottle of water in his hand. The knocking persists until he opens it up.  

“Here.” Louis says, passing a very drunk Harry the sealed water. Harry takes it and sits against the wall across from his door. Louis stands in front of him and watches him drink it. This is the 7th time Harry has shown up in front of his door drunk and with red eyes. He shouldn’t be worrying about Harry, they’re not friends, they're nothing, but lately… he wishes they were. He regrets what he said that day. He should’ve taken hold of whatever olive branch Harry was offering instead of breaking it.

Louis looks at him cautiously, “is everything okay, Haz?” 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Harry hissed through his scratchy voice. He plants his hands on the ground and struggles to stand up, wobbling as he makes it up on his two feet. 

And then it begins. 

The part Louis hates the most.  

Harry never says anything, not a peep or sound- he just looks at him. The first time it happened, Louis thought he imagined Harry’s eyes growing sadder with every passing second. But after the third time, he knew it was real. Whatever he is seeing…pains him. Whatever he is feeling, it’s the reason he gets drunk most nights.  

“I-I didn’t mean what I s-said.” Harry slurred. 

Louis frowns, “what are you talking about?” 

Those words seem to break him even more.  

The door cracks open down the hall, causing both of them to look at Ben emerging out of his shared apartment with Harry. He walks over towards them and stops in front of Harry, “thanks Louis, I’ll take it from here. Have a good night.” Ben says with a tired smile. He grabs Harry by the shoulder and steers him back to their place.   

---

20 years old 

“Sydney, would you relax? We aren't going to be late.”

“The movie starts at 7:45 and it’s already...” She looks down at her phone, “7:20!  I’m going to call Niall and tell him we can’t make it.” 

Harry reaches over the gear shift and squeezes her thigh. “We’ll make it.” 

She glares without heat and then smiles that little smile that makes him feel warm inside. He loves that smile. He might love her. Might. 

They pull up to the movie theater at exactly 7:30 to Sydney’s displeasure, “come on, I told Niall we’ll meet him at the front.” He laces his fingers through hers and walks them up to the building where Niall and some of his frat brothers are waiting. 

“Sorry we’re late.” Sydney apologizes right away, “I hope we didn’t keep you guys waiting.”

“You didn’t,” Niall says, texting someone on his phone with a smile.  

Harry puts his arm over her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. “Told you.” He whispers in her ear. “Are we going to go in or what?” He asks Niall. 

“Yeah, just waiting for Zayn and Louis to get here.” 

Fuck. 

He tightens his grip around Sydney and makes sure to smile only at her, to keep his eyes only on her because he knows if he makes the mistake to stare elsewhere, he won’t be able to look away. 

“Yo! Over here!” Niall calls, causing Harry to break his rule and drag his eyes away from his girlfriend. He watches Zayn skip over to Niall, throwing his arms around him in a hug that looks far less than friendly. Hmm. Niall doesn’t know about Ben. Interesting.  Louis stands awkwardly behind them, keeping his eyes on the ground. 

“Hey, Louis! How's it going, bro?” Niall asks when their hug is over. 

“Hi. Good.” Louis replies quietly, not lifting his head. 

Sydney drags him over to them, nudging his shoulder. “Hey.” Harry says to Zayn irritably. “You remember my girlfriend Sydney, right?” Doing the introduction Sydney longs for. 

“Yea, hey.” Zayn says cooly, giving her a grimace more than a smile.  

Sydney peers around Zayn, looking at Louis. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Sydney and this is my boyfriend Harry.” 

“Hi. I already know Harry.” Louis mumbles, his eyes skirting over him quickly before looking back at Sydney. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Louis.” 

Sydney smiles, "oh, are you two friends?"

“Our mums are friends.” Harry says dismissively, not wanting to hear the ‘no’ loud and clear from Louis. “Come on.” He says, taking Sydney’s hand and pulling her away from the group to go into the theater. 

They buy their tickets and a bucket of popcorn to share. He looks around for the rest of the guys, finding Niall and Zayn huddled together next to the drink station. The rest of the guys are leaning on different tables, flirting with the girls that are there. 

And then there’s Louis, standing alone. His back against the wall and head turned upwards to the dirty ceiling.  

Harry hasn't seen him in a while, not like he's been checking to see him or anything. But he does call Jay sometimes to see how he's doing, it's the only way he knows that Louis is doing okay. Seeing him not breathing that night was...he still can't think about it without getting dizzy. So he doesn't check on him like a stalker, but he likes to know that he's near. Breathing. Alive. The last time he saw Louis was out on his date with Sydney about a month ago. Sydney wanted to walk through the city and there Louis was. Inside a cute little coffee shop with his head bent over and scrubbing fiercely at the table. He remembers smiling at him through the glass, and then swiftly looking at Sydney so that she would think that smile was for her. It worked because the smile and giggle he got back in return filled him with a tiny bit of warmth. 

Maybe it's love? He wouldn’t even know because the love he has for the sad boy in the corner doesn’t feel like this. 

“Harry.” Sydney whispers, pulling him out of thoughts and his eyes off the boy he told himself not to look at. Sydney gives him a curious glance, before muttering “The movie is about to start.” 

They all make their way into the crowded theater, finding two rows of seats in the back. He, Sydney, Niall and a few frat brothers sit in the row below, and above are Zayn, Louis, and the rest of the group. 

The movie barely keeps his attention, why did Niall choose this one out of all the other options? When the lead actor jumps out of the car and starts running, he accidentally turns around. He doesn't mean to. It was an accident. While everyone’s laughing, Louis barely smiles. Louis’ eyes shift down, finding his in the dark theater.   

Sydney taps his leg, forcing his eyes away.

“You okay, babe?” He asks a little breathy, feeling like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. 

“Can you buy me a drink?” She asks sweetly, “I'm thirsty.” 

“Sure. What do you want?” 

“Just water. Thanks, baby.” Sydney says, kissing him right on the mouth. He freezes under her lips, she’s never kissed him in public before. She hates PDA. She pulls away with a bright smile. “Hurry back.”  

He nods dumbly and walks down the dark stairs and makes his way to the concession stand. He orders a Pepsi for himself, water for Sydney, and buys a box of chocolate-covered almonds.  

“You wanna buy me something too, lover boy?”

Harry bites down on his back teeth, he fucking hates him. “Fine. What do you want?” 

“Water and gummy bears.”

The clerk behind the counter grabs all the things and tells him the total. Harry pays for it all, and passes the water, gummy bears, and almonds to Zayn.

Zayn frowns at the orange box, “I didn’t ask for this?”

“Give them to Louis for me.”

Zayn shakes his head with a malicious laugh, “does Sydney know she’s a rebound?”

"Does Ben know you're here with Niall?"

Zayn's face shuts down. 

" Exactly. Stay out of my business. And don't tell Louis they're from me."  

Harry walks back inside the theater, leaving Zayn a couple of steps behind him. He hands Sydney her drink once he’s seated, and listens closely to Louis’ appreciative sigh up above. “Thanks Zee, I really needed these.”

“Anytime.” Zayn responds.

Yeah. 

Anytime.  

---

21 years old 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Harry asks, pushing Niall out of the way to get to the son of a bitch. 

“Geez Harry,” Nick says amusedly, holding his hands up in faux fear. “It’s been years. You're still holding a grudge?”

Niall slides in between them, pushing Harry against the wall behind him. “Harry, not now.” Niall says wide pleading eyes. “Nick's only here for the week. Be nice.”

“Yeah Hazza, be nice.” Nick says mockingly, leaning on the wall beside him. 

“Nick, you’re not helping.” Niall glances around the room, “hey, there’s something I gotta take care of outside. Will you guys be chill if I leave for a minute?” 

“Yeah.” Nick says.

Harry nods, gripping the neck of his beer bottle. 

“Good. I'll be right back.” Niall says before walking outside with a red faced Zayn following right behind him. Zayn? He looks across the room, and spots Ben. He raises a brow, but Ben only shakes his head and leaves through the backdoor. 

“So. How’s life, Harry?”

He wonders if slamming the beer bottle in Nick’s head is nice. “Did you come here to fuck up Louis’ life some more?”  

The arrogant smile slips from Nick’s face, “no. I’m here to do an interview for work and then I’m leaving.”

“Good.” Harry mutters, taking glorious gulp.

“The last time we spoke on the phone you said he was doing better…and single?”  

Harry's neck snaps towards him, “If you even think about -” 

“I wasn’t asking for me. Are you still single, Harry?” 

Harry bites down on his tongue to not spew all the words he wants to say, “don’t fucking go there, Nick.” 

Nick shakes his head, “you’re an idiot. Go.” Nick says, nodding in the direction of Louis trudging up the stairs angrily. “He looks upset. Go make sure he’s okay.”

“I’m not his fucking babysitter.”

"You're not? I couldn't tell with all the phone calls I received from you to stay the fuck away from Louis. Even last month you sent me a lengthy text. Should I read it?"

Harry downs his bottle and reaches for the unopened one in Nick's hand, "he's fine, Nick. He doesn't need me checking on him."   

Nick shrugs, “whatever you say.” He says and then walks over to the DJ with a flirty grin on his face.

Asshole. 

Harry glances at the stairs, and then glances at Sydney twirling in the middle of the room with her friends. After two song changes and no sign of Louis, Harry heads up the stairs. Just to check on the other guests at the party. That is all. He climbs the stairs quickly and pushes his head through every door frantically, which unfortunately makes him get an eye full of things he didn't wish to see. He makes his way to the washroom and knocks. When he gets no response he shoves it, causing the door to slam open. 

He’ll always be the champion of hide and seek. 

He takes in the sight in front of him, Louis’ almost naked body and the redness on his face from the embarrassment of being caught like this. Fuck, he’s so…Sydney. Sydney. He’s with Sydney. He loves Sydney. 

“Lewis.” He says with a smirk, because being a dick is much easier than admitting your girlfriend is no more than a distraction from the person you’re actually in love with.  

---

22 years old  

Harry trails his fingers down Louis’ back, drawing heart after heart after heart. “Do you feel it too?” Harry asks without asking, his heart yearning for something so close, yet still feels out of his reach. 

“Mhmm.” Louis nods against his chest, his warm breath making Harry shiver under the covers.  

Harry parts his lips, prepared to say it, finally say it, but Louis lifts his head and places his lips over his. 

“Don’t say it.” Louis mumbles against his mouth, his eyes still wet from when he climaxed minutes ago. “Just keep looking me in the eyes.” 

Harry does one better, flipping him over and makes love to him all over again. 

Through it all, Harry never stops looking at him. 

---

24 years old  

“Good Job, guys." Louis says, bringing his session to a wrap. "Don’t forget we’re all stronger than our addiction.” Louis smiles at each of the retreating teens, while counting down the seconds until his next hit. 

Louis waits by the refreshment table, allowing each of the teens to have a moment with him, if needed. Samuel, his favourite teen, walks over to the table to pick up an oatmeal cookie. He reminds him a lot of himself. Young, confused, a bit lost. Of course that’s still his reality now, but Samuel hasn’t got to the point where he is able to hide it completely. 

“How’s it going, Sam?” 

Samuel ignores him. That’s another thing about him, he hardly talks. He’s quiet. The only reason he attends the sessions is because his father is a strict pastor that threatened to send him away if he kept doing drugs.   

“I heard the basketball game last night was good. Can you tell me which teams were playing?” 

Nothing.  

Just the dry sound of hard oatmeal cookies being chewed.

“Hey bud, I'm sorry if those cookies don’t taste the best. They were marked down at the store… 3 days past the expiry date. Tell me, can you tell that I bought them two weeks ago?”

Samuel’s eyes widen, and Louis laughs. “I’m only kidding.”

That causes a smile. A small victory if Louis’ ever seen one. 

Samuel shakes his head, “see you next week, Louis.”

Louis smiles happily after getting a response, “ see you!”

When the room clears out, Louis grabs his bag and heads to the washroom. He pops the pills quickly, sighing when the quiet finds him. He avoids the mirror in front of him, he already knows he’s a fraud. He doesn’t need to see one too.

The week passes by in a blur of drugs, lectures, drugs, loneliness, drugs, drugs, drugs.  Today he enters his session 10 minutes late, too loopy in the morning to even get up for class. 

“Sorry, I’m late.” He announces, plopping down into his seat with a practiced excuse at the tip of his tongue. “The traffic was….” He starts and then stops, looking around the room at all the broken faces staring back at him. “What’s going on?” 

No one moves.   

“Come on guys, I can’t help if I’m left out of the loop.”  

They all hold their heads down, and then one teen gets out of her seat, Claire, handing Louis her phone. He stares at the screen, at the news article. The article that blames drugs for taking youth’s life, when really the article should blame the lack of resources for youth struggling with mental health issues. He was a youth that needed that help.  

Samuel was a youth that needed that, if he had that help he wouldn't have overdosed.   

He stares at the vacant seat in the room, he can’t cry. He has to be there for them, because who else will be?  "Let's talk about grief." He begins, allowing them all to share their favourite memories of Samuel and to be reminded that Samuel wasn't a failure, he was strong. He was the strongest among them all. 

When the session ends and the room clears, he walks over to the cookie tray. He bites the oatmeal cookie and thinks about the teen that could have been him. That could still be him, if he continues down this path.  

He needs help. Samuel needed help. But you can’t get help, if you never ask. 

He dials the number he learned by heart two years ago.The last time they spoke was when Louis wrote a long apology email to which his old friend only said  “thank you”. It was better than fuck off, but it also wasn’t an “I forgive you.” 

He answers, but says nothing. 

Louis exhales shakily, the cookie in his other hand crumbling to pieces. “Remember when you told me to call you if I ever needed anything?” Louis’ voice cracks,  “is that offer still available?”

Niall let out a long exhale, “that offer will never go away, Louis.”  

---

25 years old 

“One beer coming up!” The hot bartender exclaims, “here you go, handsome. And Happy New Year.” She licks her lips seductively, dulling the red of her lipstick. 

“Thank you, and same to you sweetheart.” Harry flirts back, dropping a 20 into the tip bowl. He grabs the beer off the island and walks back to his table with other pretentious law students. Their conversation dies when he comes closer to the table, “what?” He asks when he sits down next to Sydney. 

Sydney rolls her eyes, “they think because we’re exes that you shouldn’t flirt openly with people in public."

"We broke up two years ago." He says to the rest of the table.

 "I know! That's what I told them, but for some reason they think I still have the hots for you.” 

Harry smirks around the bottle, “you saying you don’t?”

“Always fishing for compliments.” She shakes her head and faces the rest of the table, “Harry can flirt with whoever he wants. The most I can do is warn them that he is emotionally unavailable and will eventually break their hearts.”

Harry blanches, “Sydney….”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about myself!” Sydney argues, “I’m talking about the eight people you slept with this month that thought they would end up as more.” 

Harry grimaces, this is why he hates having her as a roommate. “Can we talk about something else? Like our test on Monday?”

That does the trick, the table going over all the questions they think will appear on Professor Lawson’s test. The night comes to an end with him walking Sydney back to their apartment and then ubering to the other side of the city. 

“You can drop me off here.” Harry says to the driver.

The driver pulls up to the dark area that is mostly rocks and trees and maybe one or two houses in the distance. “Thanks.” He says, getting out of the car.  He pushes through the dark trees, and heads to his quieting sitting area and looks up. 

Out here, he can see the stars. 

And even though he doesn’t make wishes anymore, he likes to imagine that Louis is somewhere out there making a wish on the shooting stars that he sees. He wonders what he wishes for. To lose 10 pounds? Success? Does he wish for Harry? For friendship or more? 

If Harry did still make wishes, that's what he would wish for. He would wish for them to get back in contact. The phone works both ways, but Louis never called.  And he doesn’t want to disrupt Louis’ life with a call. The last he heard is that Louis is excelling and at the top of his classes, courtesy of Niall that loves to keep him in the loop despite the distance. 

He stares at the time and date on his phone, in New York, it’s almost 5am. He licks his lips, remembering the smiles he felt against them this time years ago.  He bites the bullet, and clicks call. It’s basically their anniversary after all. It’s been years. They can still check up on one another. They can learn to be friends again, right? Isn’t that what Louis once wanted?  To go back to what they used to be?

One.

Two. 

Three rings. 

When it gets to the fourth and Harry assumes he’s asleep, his finger hovers over the end button until someone answers the phone.  

“Hello?”

“Hello?” The same guy repeats, “are you there?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Harry clears his throat, looking at his phone to double check the number. “is-uhm- did I call the wrong number?” 

“Are you calling for Louis?” 

Niall never mentioned this to him. “Yeah.” Harry says weakly, “I just wanted to wish him a happy new year.” 

“He’s in the shower right now, but I can hand the phone to him- just give me a second. Baby, someone’s on the phone for you!”

Harry hears the sound of running water and the sound of Louis’ teasing voice, his words muffled by the shower. 

“This isn’t a trick to get into the shower with you, babe. I’ve already seen it all. Someone - hey, who is this?”  

Harry hangs up.

He pulls his silver flask out his pocket and swallows the burning liquid as he stares at the stars and accepts the fact he’s the only one still staring at them after all.  

He hopes Professor Lawson doesn’t realize that this will be the ninth test he’ll be writing while drunk.  

    ---

       24-25 years old 

“I’m so fucking proud of you, man!” Niall says, bringing him in for a tight bear hug. “How ya feeling?”

Louis smiles despite the exhaustion he feels, “better.” 

Niall pulls away, leading him to where his car is parked. “You look better, that's for sure. You looked like shit the last time I visited ya.”

“Thanks, Ni. Just rain me with compliments.” Louis deadpans. He opens the backdoor, putting down his small bag of clothes and then gets into the front seat. “You didn’t have to come all the way here, you know.” He says, buckling his seatbelt. “I could’ve taken a taxi home.”

“Taxi? Friends don’t make their friends, especially fresh out of rehab, take a taxi.” Niall shrieks, “now tell me about the steps from here.”

Louis gives Niall a small run down, explaining to him that he is required to re-enroll into school but with a smaller course load. He also has to attend 3 group sessions a week, find a new temporary job until he’s viewed as fit to be a leader again,  and last but not least, go to therapy.  

“Did I mention that I’m proud of you, Lou?” 

A small laugh escapes Louis because for the first time, he’s kinda proud of himself too.

— 

Getting back into the groove of things proves to be a lot more challenging than he originally thought, but in no time he finds his footing again. All that is left is for him to do is find a support group that aligns with his needs.   He loads the addresses and descriptions of the different support groups in the city, and chooses the one dedicated to people who have dealt with addiction since they were teens. 

It’s near his apartment, a 5 minute walk at most.  

He pulls on a light coat and makes his way through the windy September air. 3 minutes later, he's entering a small studio space and joins the group of people sitting in a circle.  

“Hi everyone,” says a tall gray-haired man, “if this is your first time here tonight, my name is George. Your leader, your friend, someone who you can call at 3am in the morning, not 4am, only 3 am.” He laughs awkwardly at his attempt at a joke, “all those who are new tonight, would you like to do an introduction? You don’t have to. But I think opening up is a very important step in maintaining progress. So…. any volunteers?”

A few people raise their hands. A woman named Tabitha introduces herself, she’s been addicted to opioids since she was 13. A man named Conner goes next, he’s been an alcoholic since 11 years old. It goes on from there, more people introducing themselves and their addiction until it’s Louis’ turn. 

Louis stands up nervously, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. “Uhm- My name’s Louis. I’ve been a struggling addict since I was 15 years old. I recovered when I was 18 and then relapsed at 22 and…now I’m just here trying to put an end to that cycle.” 

The room nods, and offers him encouraging smiles. He returns them all. 

When he sits back down, he hears someone new come through the doors. He turns around and knits his brows together, his eyes tracking the medium built man that looks oddly familiar? The newcomer takes off his black beanie, revealing his shoulder length blonde hair and then he looks at Louis with the softest brown eyes he’s ever seen.  

Gregory points to the empty seat, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before, would you like to do an introduction? Just say your name and your journey, if you’d like.”

New guy nods, “sure. My name is Anthony.” 

Anthony? Anthony? Anthony!  

Anthony continues, “I’ve been addicted to… everything really. First started with pills at 9, then cocaine from 12 and onwards. I overdosed on heroin when I was fresh out of college. That was a wake up call for me. I’ve been clean for little over a year now.” 

Gregory taps Anthony on the shoulder in an appreciative manner, “thanks for sharing that with us.” He turns to the rest of the room, “okay, now that we’re finished with introductions, I’m going to open the floor to whoever wants to speak.” 

A woman named Nakka gets up first. 

Louis tries to listen attentively to Nakka and everyone else after her, but his eyes keep drifting to the left side of the room. Anthony has the same problem too it seems. Louis ducks his head down every time their eyes meet.  When the meeting ends, Louis puts back on his jacket and makes it over to the refreshment table. He frowns as he bites into an overly dry oatmeal cookie, Samuel would have hated these. 

“Hey. Lewis, right?” 

Louis turns around swiftly, choking. “Yeah.” He coughs, brushing away the crumbs on his lips. “I mean-no. It’s Louis.” 

“Louis.” Anthony repeats with a smile, “I’m surprised you aren’t trying to grab my hand right now.” 

“Oh God.” Louis groans. “Let’s forget about that day. I clearly wasn’t well.”

Anthony shakes his head, grabbing a cup filled with pink juice from the table. “You were concerned. I thought it was sweet.”

“Ah-are you sure about that? From what I remember, you were about two seconds away from throwing me across the library.” 

Anthony rolls his eyes, “I would have done no such thing, besides your boyfriend would have stopped me ” Anthony adds, emphasizing on the word ‘boyfriend’ as if he’s asking for his relationship status without actually asking. 

“Harry wasn’t my boyfriend.” Louis swallows dryly, feeling that pang of regret slice through him but he ignores it. That was years ago, he doubts Harry’s still thinking about him anymore. “I was single.” 

“And now?” 

Louis’ face heats up, “still single.” 

“Good.” 

“Good?” 

“Now I don’t have to worry about some dude murdering me after we go on a date.” 

“Presumptuous aren’t you? How do you know I’d say yes?” 

“Because you still haven’t said no.”  

Louis’ mouth parts in shock, oh he’s good. “I guess-I guess I haven’t.” He whispers, laughing a little at the absurdity of this all. They stand at the table for much longer than necessary, closer than necessary, only leaving when a new bunch of people enter for a different meeting.  

“I’ll call you.” Anthony says when they separate and walk in two different directions. 

Louis heads home with a smile, putting his phone to charge in case his new friends call. An hour later he's curled up on his bed talking until the sunrise. 

Anthony calls him everyday, and when they aren’t on the phone speaking, they’re with each other. Whether it be at a cute diner or just walking down the chilly New York streets. They get to know each other, grow to like each other, start to fall into something that Louis' not quite sure of.  

“Look.” Anthony says, wrapping one arm around Louis’ waist and using the other to point at the little girl doing spins on the ice. “When I have kids, I’m putting them in skating lessons. Because-holy shit ! look at her go!”

Louis’ eyes widen in amazement when she leaps in the air, “she's really talented.”

Anthony nods in agreement, “do you want kids?” He asks, his breath coming out in clouds of fog because of the frosty December air. 

“At some point.” Louis shrugs, “not now. How many kids do you want?

“6. Maybe 7?”

“7?” He exclaims, “that’s a damn soccer team.” 

“I know.” Anthony smiles bashfully, “I was an only child growing up, so…it sucked sometimes. My parents were always busy and they thought, one, me, was already too much to handle. After a while, that loneliness got the best of me and pills became my siblings.” Anthony says, his stare falling back onto the ice that reflects the green and red lights. “I don’t want my kids to ever run out of company. I want them to be a team and be there for each other. Offer comfort.” He sighs wistfully and shakes his head. He gives Louis an embarrassed smile, “sorry for darkening the mood.” 

“You didn’t.” Louis says honestly, resting his head on Anthony’s shoulder. “You’re going to be a great father.” 

“So are you.” Anthony replies, and there it is. That skip in his heart that’s only ever happened with one other person. “Come on, let me walk you home. I don’t want my boyf-you-falling asleep in class tomorrow,"  Anthony says, his cheeks flaming from the slip up. “Let’s go."

They walk back to Louis’ building hand-in-hand, dust of snow falling around them. Louis looks up at the sky through the cloud of snowflakes, are stars absent in LA too? That's something he thinks about often. Anthony squeezes his hand bringing his attention back to the guy who is actually here with him.  

Their steps slow and stop when they’re in front of his building, “see you tomorrow, Lou.” Anthony says, dropping his head down an inch to kiss him quickly before walking away to hail a cab. 

Louis watches the cab pull up next to him. “Wait!” Louis shouts. 

Anthony pauses from opening the cab door and raises a brow. "Everything alright?" 

Louis fidgets with his fingers, “did you maybe ….do you want to come up?”

“Come up? Like upstairs? With you?” Anthony asks surprised,  “are you sure?”

“We are boyfriends, aren’t we?” Louis says, saying the word he knows Anthony was too afraid to say back at the ice rink.

Anthony’s smile is small, yet it’s the brightest he’s ever seen. “I'd love to come upstairs.” 

Louis leads the way, taking the elevator to the 8th floor and entering his home with a quick code.   He shows Anthony around his tiny, yet homely apartment, pointing out the random trash/treasures he’s found in the city. When they begin walking towards his bedroom hand-in-hand, Louis throws out the words before his nerves get the best of him. “I haven’t been with anyone in almost 3 years. ”

Anthony's thumb rubs against his knuckles, “we don’t have to do anything. We can watch a movie, sleep, anything you want to do. You're in charge here.” 

“No, I want to do this with you. I’m just letting you know that we have to go slow.”

Anthony leads him to the bed, gently peeling off his jacket . “I can do slow.”

Anthony, the most honest man he’s ever met, does in fact go slow. There aren't any fireworks or explosions, there aren’t any deep rooted fear that he needs to enjoy it all before it all ends, there also aren't any jokes and laughs in between. But there is quiet. 

Louis' missed the quiet. 

Anthony rests his head on Louis’ sweaty chest after Louis pulls out, “was that good for you?” Anthony asks hesitantly, “because I know you usually bottom and I-”

Louis cuts him off with a kiss on top of his blonde hair, “It was perfect.”

Anthony relaxes in his arms, his eyes shining brighter than he’s ever seen. If Louis had a mirror right now, he thinks he’d see the same brightness in his own eyes and that very thought frightens him. 

“Are you heartbroken?” 

Louis laughs in surprise, “what? Do I look heartbroken?”  

Anthony shrugs, “sometimes you do.” 

"I’m not.” Louis says, holding onto Anthony tighter. “I’m fine. You think Nick still has my heart or something?”  

“Not him...” Anthony rolls off of him, and sits up. He stares down at Louis, “were you in love with Harry?” He asks straight out, Louis senses this question has been on his mind for a while.

Louis’ right hand twitches but he hides it under the covers, "ew, no.” He says, shocked at how true that lie sounds. “I mean maybe had a crush on him when I was 13 or a bit younger, but that was nothing serious. He was like a brother to me after that.” He shudders in disgust for effect, “we're practically family.”

"Then why aren't you guys in touch anymore?"

Louis shrugs, "just life, y'know. Distance." 

“Okay.” Anthony exhales, relief washing over his face. He puts his head back down on his chest, “I had to ask because...” Anthony mumbles quietly, “I think I’m falling in love with you, Louis.” 

Louis’ heart thumps loudly in his chest because, “I think I’m falling in love with you too.” 

—-

“Five” 

“Four”  

“Three” 

“Two”  

On one they kiss in the middle of the empty living room. When they separate, Louis says it first. “I love you.”  He whispers to the brown eyed man that makes everything in his life somehow more peaceful. 

Anthony holds him tightly, whispering: “I love you more.” 

This is what it’s supposed to feel like, Louis thinks. This is what love is, right? It’s calm and quiet. Easy. This is love.   

They spend the night wrapped in each other's arms, watching silly movies on the couch and kissing during every commercial break. Anthony yawns when it’s almost 5 am, “ready to call it a night?”

“Uh-huh. I’m going to take a quick shower first. Meet you in bed?”

“Now? Last night, I fell asleep before you even got into bed!”

“I won’t take long. I swear.” Louis whispers, kissing his cheek before getting off the sofa. He goes into the washroom, stripping from head to toe and getting into the tiny shower. The water takes a whole two minutes to become warm, but when it does, he sighs pleasantly under the steam.  

“Baby, someone’s on the phone for you!” 

Yeah right. “That’s what you said last time and then ended up in the shower with me. I’m not falling for it this time! Get into bed, I'm coming!”  

“This isn’t a trick to get into the shower with you. I’ve already seen it all. Someone - hey, who is this?” He hears Anthony ask the person on the phone, “hello?… are you still there?” 

Louis pushes the shower curtain to the side, sticking his head out. “Who is it?” 

Anthony shrugs, “I don’t know. He hung up.” 

“Caller ID?” 

“Private caller.”

Weird.  

Louis finishes up in the shower and then dries off in the bedroom. He pulls on a pair of boxers and joins Anthony on the bed, who is scrolling through the weather app on his phone. 

“They said a snow storm might be coming on Monday. We should buy some flashlights and candles just in case.” 

“We should also buy some blankets to build a fort.” Louis jokes, expecting Anthony to laugh but Anthony just stares at him like he’s said the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. “It was a joke.”

“Oh. Good one.” Anthony laughs awkwardly, he leans over and gives him a single kiss. “Hit the lights would you?” Anthony says and then rolls to the other end of the bed. Anthony’s not the biggest fan of cuddling.

Louis turns off the light and rolls onto his side to stare out the window. When he hears Anthony begin to snore slightly, he wishes on the hidden stars and thinks back to the days he’ll never forget. He falls asleep picturing snow covered eyelashes. 

---

27 years old 

The minute Harry gets the phone call, he packs a handful of items and buys a ticket for Montgomery. The whole plane ride is spent with him bent over in worry. He grabs his carry-on bag and rushes out of the airport as fast as possible to get to the hospital.

When he arrives at the local hospital, he spots Zayn outside with his head in his hands and a cigarette in between his shaking fingers. “Zayn!” He screams angrily, walking over to the edge of the sidewalk he’s sat on. “I’ve been trying to call you for the last 20 minutes! What’s the news? Is he okay? ”

Zayn shakes his head, “I don’t know.” He sniffles, “They think it was a mechanical issue that caused his car to spin out of control. He’s in surgery, last I heard.”  

The world shakes between his feet, but he forces himself to stay upright. “Why aren’t you inside?”

“Louis.”

“Louis’ here? Why didn’t you say that on the phone?”

Zayn narrows his eyes, “I don’t know maybe because Niall was in a car accident and the first thing on my mind wasn’t your ex being here.”

“He’s not my ex.” 

“That’s not the fucking point, Harry! Our friend could be-” Zayn bites his lower lip, tears filling his eyes rapidly. “Fuck.” He stands up and walks away. 

Harry moves to follow him, but Zayn holds up his hands. “Leave me alone.”

Harry nods and enters inside the hospital, searching for a nurse or receptionist or someone to guide him to where Niall’s family is. 

“Harry.” 

Harry turns to the right, spotting Ben leaning against the front door watching Zayn through the window. 

“Hey. Where's everyone?” Harry asks. 

“Just around the hall." Ben says, "follow the red lines.”

“Thanks.” Harry follows the red lines not the blue lines, trying not to think of the implication behind the colors. When the red line ends, he lifts his head and there they are.  

There he is.  

He looks so different, yet exactly the same.   

“Mrs and Mr. Horan.” Harry walks over to them awkwardly, not knowing what else to say from here. How’s Niall doing? How are you guys holding up? Do you need anything? He doesn’t want to ask questions he’s sure they’ve been asked in the last hours.

Thankfully Mrs. Horan puts an end to his quietness, “Harry,” she says his name with such adoration, the same way she used to all those years back when he would crash at Niall’s house after football practice. She stands and wraps her arms around him, giving him a long hug. Mr. Horan gives him a welcoming nod. 

“You didn’t have to come all the way out here." She says, "the flight must have cost a fortune.”

“Money’s not an issue.” Harry responds, “how's he doing?” 

“He just got out of surgery a few minutes ago,” she says with a watery smile, “it went well. We’re just waiting for him to wake up and then we can go see him.”

Harry’s eyelids fall in relief, “thank God.” 

“Would you like some tea? Coffee? It might be a while before he awakes.” 

“No, that's alright. Thank you for the offer.”  

“If you change your mind, you know where to find us.” Mrs.Horan says, squeezing his hand before sitting back down next to her husband. 

He turns around and sees the only empty seat, which happens to be right next to Louis. He keeps his steps slow, and thinks over what to say to break five years of silence? 

“Hi.” Is what Harry chooses. One simple word, keeping it as impersonal as possible. 

Louis blinks up at him, his wet lashes fanning his cheeks. “Hey.” Louis croaks, the gold ring around his finger suddenly sparkling. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” He asks, pointing at the empty seat next to him.

“Uhm.” Louis says, his eyes widening as he stares behind Harry. Harry already knows who he’ll find, but he still turns around, watching Anthony walking towards them with two cups.  

Louis’ fiancé. 

Niall was right, Anthony does look better. Gone are the drug laced eyes and anger anyone could feel a mile away. 

He looks happy.  

Of course he looks happy. 

He has Louis. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. And congratulations, Louis.” Harry says, stepping away and exiting the waiting room. 

Louis doesn’t stop him. But - “Harry, is that you?” Anthony says from the other side of the room. He calls his name a second time hesitantly and then, “Harry! It is you!” He exclaims with a friendly smile, “long time no see, how’ve you been?”

“Good.” Harry nods, walking over to him. "Very good. Not as good as you it seems,” Harry teases lightly, acting like he cares about the guy he occasionally hung out with in College. “Congrats on the engagement. I’m happy for you two.”  

Anthony looks over at Louis, his expression going soft. “Thank you. We’ll be seeing you at the wedding, right? Louis said you haven’t rsvp’d yet.” 

RSVP?  

“This might not be my place to say,” Anthony begins quietly, “but I think Louis would be glad if you were there. You guys grew up like brothers, and I know it bothers him sometimes that the distance ruined your relationship. You're his family.” 

Anthony doesn’t know. 

Can he fault him though? He has no plans to tell anyone about Louis either. Still, Harry turns around to look at him, not even bothering to mask his emotions. Distance? The days he sometimes has to get blackout drunk to remember vividly, is just-distance. 

Louis reads his expression perfectly and walks over to them at lightning speed. “Everything okay over here?”

“Everything’s fine.” Anthony says, wrapping one arm around Louis’ waist. “I was just asking Harry if he’s coming to the wedding.”  

“Oh.” Louis says to ground, not meeting his eyes. “Harry’s probably busy, love. Don’t bother him.”  

“Nonsense. Harry, man. Please come.”  

Louis looks at him then, his eyes pleading to go along with this cruel charade.

Harry agrees, “yeah. Of course, I’ll be there. Louis' family.” 

“Great!” Anthony exclaims, “oh yeah. Here’s your coffee, love.” He passes the cup to Louis and shoots Harry a smirk, “he can’t even go a day without two cups of coffee. Has he always been this way?” 

“Always.”  

---

 28 years old 

He fumbles with his bowtie in the mirror, doing it up and then undoing it. He does it up again, only to undo it once more. In the end, he rips the stupid bow off. It’s not his fucking wedding anyway, why does he even need to wear a bowtie?  

Harry walks over to the bed. “Hey. You need to wake up.” He says, tapping the leg of the red head he met at the bar last night. “You gotta get out of here.”

She mumbles something in her sleep and rolls to the other side of the bed, the sound of her snores filling the room once again. 

Fuck it. She can stay, he’s heading home right after anyway.  

Harry grabs his freshly filled flask from the hotel dresser and slips it inside his suit pocket. He leaves the hotel room, taking the elevator to the basement. He watches the numbers decrease slowly, like a countdown to the nightmare he’s going to be entering shortly. Is it too late to make a run for it? No one knows he's here, so they won't know that he showed up and left.  

The elevator comes to a halt, but instead of running, he chooses to step out. 

He walks up to the double doors, this is it. He peeks through the small window, seeing Anthony standing at the bottom of the aisle. Waiting. God. He whirls around and goes to the mini bar in the corner. He downs two shots and puts a smile on his face. He walks back to the doors, opening just a small crack to slip through. He sees his mom and sister at the front next to Louis’ family, smiling giddily like they’re watching their own brother or son get married. He sees a vacant seat next to Gemma, but there’s no way in hell he’s watching Louis get married in the front row. He looks around the makeshift church and sees an empty seat next to - “Marcus?”  He says a bit too loudly. 

The room turns to look at him. Shit. “Sorry,” he whispers, walking over to his old friend. Marcus smiles at him welcomingly when he makes it over to him. 

“Harry motherfucking Styles. In the flesh.” Marcus says, “man, it’s been too long.”

“It has.” Harry sits down next to him, “I’m surprised you’re here. Don’t you have a big game in two days?”

“Don’t remind me.” Marcus grumbles, “the coach has been on my ass about it, but I couldn’t miss Louis’ big day. He’s family.”

Family. 

Marcus has grown close enough to Louis to consider him family. While Harry has grown so far away that he has to sit in the back row of a church and act like he isn’t one drink away from objecting.  

“Hey man, you know I didn’t mean it like ..” 

Harry shakes his head, “I get it, don't worry about it.”

"Well how've you been? You seeing anyone? Bring a plus one?" 

If that was Marcus' attempt at changing the subject, he sure knows how to choose ‘em. 

"No, Marcus. I'm not seeing anyone." 

Marcus' face shifts guiltily again, but this time he makes the smart choice to not ask anymore questions. 

They sit there quietly like everyone else in the church until they hear the pianist begin playing a slow melody. They all stand and turn towards the door. Two ushers open the door at the same time, each holding a door open to reveal the other groom.

He shouldn’t have come. 

The white suit, the smile on his face, the space on his finger that's going to be filled soon with a new ring. He looks away, his chest burning more than the time he downed a bottle of scotch. 

He really shouldn’t have come. 

Marcus pats his back from where he stands behind him, “he’s really happy with him, Harry.” Marcus says, like that's going to fix pain.  When Louis reaches his soon to be husband, the room sits back down and admires the couple, some with tears, some with smiles, and others, like Harry, just Harry, with a blank face. 

“We are all gathered here today…”

Harry sits through the whole thing with a ball in his throat, especially when it gets to the vows. 

Anthony goes first: 

“Louis.” Anthony’s tear filled voice shakes, “I love you. I just want to get that out of the way first, I love you. Before you, my life had no purpose. It was empty. I kept chasing a feeling, but I didn’t know what. I did every drug under the sun to find the unknown feeling I was seeking, but that feeling couldn’t be found with drugs. That feeling, that missing piece, it was just you. Only you.”

Pathetic. 

Harry chances a glance at Louis, finding him smiling the same smile he gave Harry 24 years ago. It’s no longer Harry’s smile, it now belongs to his soon to be husband. Harry looks down at his lap as he listens to the rest. 

“Without you Louis, I don’t know where I would be. I can’t wait to be your husband and show you how much I love you every single day.”  

The crowd around him sighs in fondness. Harry's finger itches for his flask. 

“Anthony,” Louis says when it’s his turn, causing Harry to look back up.” “For years, I never thought this was a possibility. I never thought I would stay sober, much less marry someone I love.” Louis whispers, his eyes red yet no tears fall. “You’ve helped me more than you know, more than I can explain. You’re my strength, and the one good thing this life has handed me. Thank you for everything. I love you so much, Anthony. You're the easiest person I’ve ever fallen in love with.” 

Easy. 

They exchange rings after that, and finally they seal their future with a kiss. The crowd erupts in claps and cheers, Niall, the best man, also the man that threatened him to not ruin Louis' day, screams the loudest. 

Harry exits the church first unseen, quietly, and alone.  

“You again?” The bartender asks. 

He puts his card down, “give me the strongest thing you got.” 

The evening passes by in a blur of whisky and ice and a shooting pain inside that won’t go away no matter how drunk he gets. When night comes, and his heart is numb enough to survive, he makes his way upstairs to the reception. Harry flips that tiny switch inside, blending in with the crowd. Laughing with old friends, dancing with the single woman, and even makes a toast to the couple, husbands, to the husbands, at the main table.  

He holds the flute of his glass, tipping it towards the couple. Husbands. To the husbands. “I wish you guys nothing but happiness and a world of smiles. I wish all your wishes come true.” He says brightly, while avoiding the pitying glance he receives from Lucas.  

He tries to hold it together for as long as possible, but he’s only human, so when he sees Louis smiling at Anthony as they dance in the middle of the room, he slips through the backdoor. He walks down the terrace and stands at the edge of the balcony, leaning over the black railing to stare at the lake in front of him.  He chances a look to the sky, but finds nothing but darkness. Not even the stars want to be here with him tonight.

 The door opens behind him, the music of the party reaching his ears immediately. A fast beat now playing.  “Found you.”

Harry’s eyes shut as he reaches into his breast pocket and takes a quick swig of the burning liquid inside. “You shouldn’t be out here. You have guests to entertain.”

“It’s my wedding, I can do whatever I want.” Louis says, walking over to stand next to him. “Plus my feet hurt. I fucking hate dancing.”

Harry hums, keeping his eyes on the lake.  

A thick silence grows between them. Louis clears his throat, “I wanted to thank you for coming. It means a lot.” 

“No problem.” 

“How are you, Harry?” 

It's been years. Years. And the first time they're speaking is at Louis’ wedding. “How am I?” Harry repeats the question out loud, gutted that those five days have resulted in such a mundane question. “Great. I just recently got hired at one of the best law firms in LA.” 

A smile stretches across Louis’ face, “that’s great, Haz.” Louis pauses, “Harry.” He corrects himself. “You’re good at everything, aren't you?”

"I don’t think so." He mumbles, eyes still forward. "I'm not the easiest to love.”  

Louis sucks in a sharp breath.

Harry curses to himself, “that was wrong of me to say. Forgive me. You and Anthony are a …lovely couple. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, and you are. I wish you guys nothing but the best and a long and happy marriage.” 

Louis doesn’t respond, instead he mirrors Harry, staring at the lake, his bottom lip tucked securely between his teeth. “Did you hear that the fairy carnival stopped coming to Montgomery?” Louis asks randomly.

“What?” He fully turns to Louis, seeing how more beautiful he looks up close. “Why?”  He asks alarmingly. The fairy carnival was a staple in their city, only coming once a year. Even though it’s been more than a decade since he’s been there, some of his favourite memories were from the days Louis and him went as children. 

Louis shrugs, “I think the company went bankrupt or something. I almost cried when my mom told me.” 

“Almost? I bet you cried. You used to cry every single time we had to leave.” 

Louis looks away embarrassed, “of course you'd remember that. I was truly the happiest kid there. Do you remember what your mom used to tell me to make me feel better?” 

Harry imitates his mother’s high pitch voice, “no worries, kids! Tomorrow we’ll go to the beach, and you know what's good about the beach? The beach never leaves. It will always be exactly where you left it.” Harry shakes his head, “it was such bullshit.”

“Don’t insult your mother’s wise words. She had a point.”

“No she didn’t.” Harry scoffs, “the beach and the carnival weren’t even comparable. The carnival was like a once in a lifetime experience. It was exciting, freeing, you’re always gonna be your happiest self there. The beach is great though, who doesn’t love the beach? But it’s not the Fairy carnival. The beach doesn’t give you the thrill, it’s just relaxing and…and...”  

“Easy to love.” Louis finishes his thoughts, looking Harry right in the eyes. 

Oh. 

“There you are!” Niall shouts, “it’s time for the final dance. Come on!”  

Louis nods with a grim smile, and if Harry didn't know better, he would say Louis looks disappointed about being called away. “Duty calls." Louis says, "thanks again for coming to the wedding, Harry.”

Louis steps away, heading toward a waiting Niall.

“Louis, wait!”

Louis turns around hesitantly, as if he’s afraid of what Harry will say. Or do. Over his shoulder, Niall sends him a warning look. 

“The beach …the beach is better for you.” 

Louis laughs hoarsely, blinking rapidly. “Yeah. I think so too. But there was a reason I cried every year, Haz.” Louis says, before joining Niall at the door. 

Harry re-enters the party minutes later, standing off to the side to watch the husbands dance. Louis looks at him over Anthony’s shoulder, and for the first time the whole day, Harry smiles a genuine smile.  

Louis smiles back, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.  

He gave Louis his first dance, at least that’s something Anthony can’t take away from him.  

---

30 years old  

Louis grips his phone in his right hand, while his left hand stays in his mouth chipping away at his nails anxiously. He looks at the post again, needing to make sure he read it correctly the first time. The words stick out to him frighteningly. Rehab. Alcoholic. Sober. Years. 

 His office door flies open, causing him to knock over a pile of his rough drafts.  

“Sorry, sir!” Mandy, his new assistant, exclaims. She runs over and kneels on the ground, picking up the stacks of paper that have fallen. “I didn’t mean to scare you," She says from somewhere on the ground, "I just wanted to ask if you’re heading home soon?" She stands up, putting the papers back neatly on his desk. "It’s almost midnight and Anthony keeps calling my phone.” She looks at the phone in Louis’ hand. “He said you’re not picking up your cell.” 

“Mandy, go home.” He says to her gently, because if he tried to explain to her his current state, it wouldn’t make sense to her either. 

"A-are you sure?"

"Very.” 

She walks to the door looking a bit dejected, but Louis can’t bring himself to take back the words, he’ll repay her kindness tomorrow with a bonus and extra vacation days. “Mandy, If he calls you again tell him I'm busy writing and that I’ll be home soon.”  

“Of course, sir.” She closes the door behind her. 

Louis looks back down at the unsent message on his phone, “was it my fault?” He erases it, “why didn’t you tell me?”, he erases it, “I would have been there for you if I knew,” he erases it again, “when you say years, how many years are you talking?”, he erases it once again and looks at the one sheet of paper that is left lying on the ground. He picks up the draft, reading the one sentence at the bottom of the tear stained page.

He looks back at his phone and sends the message once and for all, a little past 2 am. He packs up his papers, locks his office, and heads home to his husband.   

---

30 years old  

Harry’s phone chimes loudly in the room, waking him up out of the sleep that he just fell in. He reaches across Natalie expecting to see a message from his boss or sponsor, but it’s from Louis. He shifts away from Natalie and walks out of the bedroom, entering the bathroom. 

He takes a deep breath before he opens the text. 

“I’m proud of you.” It simply reads. 

---

31 years old 

The thing about friends with benefits, it’s never a good idea to have friends with benefits.  

The first time Harry met Natalie, the lawyer from the neighbouring firm, he should’ve known better than to start up a physical relationship with someone just as messed up as him. Someone that was using his body to get over someone else, just like him.  But that was what was fun about it, two broken-hearted people who just wanted to get drunk, have fun, and fuck. It sounded like the perfect combination 22 months ago. 

But now? 

Not so much.

Because as usual, feelings got involved. Trust started being built. They got sloppy, started liking each other, stopped drinking and went to rehab together, got engaged….and now he’s fighting with his bow in the mirror and wondering why he still feels like he’s making a mistake.  

Zayn sneaks up behind him, squeezing his shoulder tightly. “Let me help you with that, mate.”

“Thanks.” Harry mutters. He drops his arms to his side, turning around to face his best man.  He still can’t believe they’re friends, best friends, but it was bound to happen after Zayn moved to LA for his art career.  

Zayn looks up at him knowingly, tucking the piece of fabric underneath his collar and starting the process all over. “You’re not getting cold feet, are ya?”

If he was, Zayn would be the last person he told. He may be his closest friend now, but he already knows too much. “Obviously.” Harry mumbles, “I need you to be my getaway driver.” 

“Ha! I see your humour is still intact, that’s a good sign.” Zayn says, “Natalie’s a beautiful and smart woman. You don’t have to worry about her not showing up today.” 

“Fuck off.” 

Zayn laughs under his breath, looping the bow once more. Smiling, he steps away. “All done.” 

Harry turns back to the mirror, taking it all in. “How long till I have to go down there?”  

Zayn looks at his watch, “about 30 minutes, I guess? Do you want to sneak a peek at the bride or just chill in here?”

“Stay in here.” Harry sits on the edge of the bed. “Alone.” 

Zayn gives him a look he knows all too well, before he nods. “I’ll be downstairs. If you need me, just give me a shout.” He walks out the large bedroom and shuts the door behind him.

Harry rests his arm over his eyes and lays flat on the bed. He asked her to marry him. He loves her. He can’t keep doing this. 

He stands up and goes to the mirror, making sure he looks good enough to stand next to his future wife. “I knew you were the one from when I saw your smile.” Harry mumbles, practicing the vows he memorized.

A small knock echoes behind him. It’s probably his mom. 

“Come in.” Harry shouts, running his fingers through his hair.

“Son.”

Harry’s fingers shakes from his voice, a habit from the child still in him. He looks in the mirror, seeing his father standing in the entryway of the door. “I didn’t invite you.” 

"I know." His father shuts the door behind him, ignoring him like he always does. “I need to talk to you.” 

Harry resumes the task of fixing the one curl that keeps poking out awkwardly. “I don’t give a fuck. Leave. I don’t want you here.”

"Don’t speak to me like that.”

Harry laughs bitterly, “get the fuck out.” 

Des sighs, “I get that I was a bad father to you...” 

No kidding.

“But if I'd known...I just feel like everything that has happened to you is my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten in the way between you two.”  

This time when Harry’s fingers shake, he pulls them out of his hair and faces his father. 

“Growing up my father was…. he was horrible, Harry. He hit me. Yelled at me. If you asked him what worthless meant, without a doubt he would have said my name. He didn't like me. I was a softie, sucked at sports and to make matters worse, I only had one girlfriend as a teen. Your mother, obviously. My father hated that I wasn’t the perfect son. He died still hating me.”

“I honestly don’t care about-“  

“Harry, listen!” His father shouts, but not in anger but remorse. Guilt. “I swore I would raise a kid that your grandfather would be proud of. And then you came, a kid exactly just like me. It was my worst nightmare. Even though he was six feet under, I could still hear him taunting me. And I took that out on you. I wanted you to be the strong man I could never be, and you were. You were so strong. The strongest man I know. After everything I put you through-” His father clears his throat again, looking everywhere but at him. “For years, I thought I could gain your forgiveness through sending you gifts. I thought that form of an apology would be enough. But, it’s not. I haven’t been a good example for you my whole life, so I'm going to start now and give you an apology face-to-face. Like a real man should. I’m deeply sorry, Harry. You were a great kid, and I’m proud of you. Of who you were then and of who you are now. I’ll always be proud that you are better than the man I could ever be. I love you, Son.” 

Harry let’s the apology flow out of his ears, not giving one flying fuck about the man in front of him.  “You’re more selfish than I thought.” Harry chuckles in disbelief, turning to the mirror. “You had years, many years, to apologize and you chose today. Today.” He hisses, “you should leave.” Harry says calmly, fixing the creases in his suit. “I don’t want you here.”  

His father doesn’t fight him and moves towards the door. He pauses before he crosses the threshold, “can you at least tell me one thing… is she the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

“Yes.” Harry says automatically, because it’s the truth. If he can’t have his true love, the one sitting downstairs next to his husband, he’ll settle for the next best thing. “I can't wait to be her husband.”   

 ---

35 years old 

“Are your eyes still closed?” 

He feels Anthony’s scowl underneath his hands, “you’re covering my eyes, Lou. I don't think it matters. Come on, are we almost there?” 

Louis knees him in the butt playfully, “stop whining. Surprise!” He whispers, moving his hands slowly off his husband’s face. “Do you like it?” 

Anthony steps away from him, walking right up to the large windows.  

~ 

“He hated it!” Louis shouts in outrage to his therapist, “he even had the nerve to be angry with me for not consulting him first before I bought the place. How dare he!” 

Danny, his therapist, nods at him sympathetically and for a second Louis thinks he might finally take his side for once but then, “why didn’t you talk to Anthony first? You have to admit a penthouse is a big purchase, you don’t think he should’ve been involved?”

“I wanted to surprise him!” Louis urged, “he’s being unreasonable. It’s a beautiful home.”  

To live in New York and be able to afford a penthouse is something Louis has always wanted, and now he can. His books are a success, his speeches are a success, his life is fucking success. He just wants his husband to enjoy it as much as he does.  

“Did you ask him why he doesn’t like it?” 

“He doesn’t think it’s a place for the mayor of New York to live in, if he wins. He also can’t imagine…. raising kids there.” He mumbles.  

“Ah.” Danny says, writing something down in his secret little notebook. “Kids. Is that something you want in your marriage, Louis?” 

Louis gives him a bewildered look, “yes, I want kids. You know that.”

“I know you want kids, but do you want to start a family with Anthony?” Danny asks slowly, carefully, his glasses covered eyes watching his reaction keenly.

Louis shifts in his seat, “h-he’s my husband.” he stutters, “I want kids with him.” 

“I sense hesitation there. You’ve told me from the beginning that Anthony is a family man, that he wants a family. Why haven’t you started building that family yet?” 

"I’m not ready.” 

"When will you be ready?” 

"I don’t know.” 

“What does your life have to look like for it to be the right time?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me something you do know.” Danny says gently, no insult or bite in his tone, just curiosity. 

“He would’ve loved the penthouse.” He whispers, staring at the mat under his feet.

He’s only ever mentioned ‘he’ once. 8 years ago, during their first ever session, when his name slipped out by mistake while he was talking about his childhood. He never talked about him in connection to his addiction or being abandoned during high school by him. All he said was, ‘growing up, Harry and I were always together. He was my best friend.’ He never went further than that and Danny never asked questions. Yet, he feels like if he were to ever look into Danny's tiny notebook, Harry’s name would be the only thing he has written down. 

He lifts his head, meeting Danny's calculating eyes. “Well that’s the problem then, Louis. You’re creating a life you wanted with someone else.” 

Louis frowns, looking away from his therapist and gazes again at the single star printed on the mat. “No. I’m creating the life I thought Anthony wanted too.”

---

37 years old  

If anyone notices the tension between them, no one says a thing. Though he doubts they notice, princess themed parties tend to distract adults. They all chat aimlessly, chewing solemnly on the bright pink frosted cake. 

“Look at you! She’s gotten so tall already!” He hears Zayn gush to Harry on the other side of the backyard, both of them holding their daughters in their arms. Harry smiles down at his daughter, her bright green eyes looking up at him like he holds the world in his hands.   He remembers vividly the first time he saw Lucy as a baby, 5 years ago. Though he will never ever admit it out loud, for the first second he laid his eyes on her, he hated her. Only for one second. In the next second, she smiled in her sleep, causing a small dimple to appear. The third second, he thought she was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Louis,” Anthony says gruffly next to him, “Lucas is talking to you.” 

“Sorry,” Louis blinks away the thought and turns to his friend, “yes?” 

Lucas smiles at him, “there’s this beautiful flower out by the front that I want to show you.”

Flower? Since when has Lucas been interested in flowers?   

“It’s soon time for the birthday girl to open her mountain of presents! So everyone make sure to stay close.” Niall announces from his ‘dj set’ even though it’s more like a stereo with a mic. But Louis’ not going to go and kill his vibe again, Niall was offended the first time he said he’s not a real DJ.

“Maybe after the presents?”

“No.” Lucas urges, standing from his seat hastily. “Now. I want to get a picture before it gets too dark.” 

Louis doesn’t question it and follows Lucas to the front yard.

“Where’s the flow-“

“What the hell is going on between you and Anthony?” Lucas asks right away, pulling them further away from Harry’s beautiful home and closer to his car parked across the streets. “Should I be worried?” 

Louis scrubs a hand over his face tiredly, he should’ve known Lucas would notice, he doesn’t miss a thing. “We’re just going through a rough patch right now. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Is it the kids thing? I read the article this morning, he must have felt terrible. I don’t understand why it’s a bad thing if the mayor promotes himself as a family man, but doesn’t have kids of his own. They blew it way out of proportion.” 

Article? He never knew the media was saying all of that. This is bad. Really bad. Crap, that’s why Anthony stormed out of their hotel room this morning after checking his phone.

Louis walks forward without a thought and breathes heavily against Lucas’ yellow blouse. Every time he thinks he’s done with these panic attacks, they sneak up on him. At the worst possible time. He thought having a therapist would’ve fixed all of this years ago, but as Danny says, “it’s not something to fix, it’s a part of you. Don’t hate it, embrace it. And learn how to handle them.”

“Ssh, it’s okay.” Lucas mumbles, his hand moving up and down on his back comfortingly. 

Louis grips his shirt, fighting the tears. He’s not going to cry, not fucking here. 

“Hey guys, we’re ready to-“ Zayn stops, his face turning concerned when he sees Lucas and Louis huddled together. “Louis, are you okay?” 

“Now is not a good time, Zee.” Lucas says to him kindly, turning Louis away from him. 

Louis ignores Zayn, like he always does. 

“Come on, we’ll talk about this later.” Louis says to Lucas, leaving a stunned looking Zayn behind. They walk back into the backyard and sit down on their plastic seats. Lucy sits in front of the long white table that is piled up with what Louis can only guess is 50 presents. Natalie and Harry stand by, staring at their daughter with so much love. Louis looks away from them. 

They all watch Lucy open present after present. Zayn got her an art set, which earned a loud squeal and “thank you, Uncle Zayn!”

Niall got her a book.

Lucas got her a remote control Barbie car, which had Natalie shaking her head in dread. 

Her grandmother got her a pretty white dress with red roses.

Gemma got her heely shoes.

The present opening goes on and on, and by the time she gets to Louis’ present,  he’s a little worried he overstepped. She removes the tissue paper and struggles to lift the box out of the bag. When she gets the gift out, Natalie smiles excitedly. Harry gives him a look that says “you overstepped.”

Lucy’s small body runs towards him. He kneels onto the grass to hug her. “Thanks, Lou Lou.”

“Lou lou?” Louis laughs at the cute nickname, “I’m not uncle Louis anymore?”

“Daddy doesn’t like it when I call you that.” She says the same time Harry walks over, looking like a deer in headlight. 

Louis releases her slowly, his heart beating rapidly under Harry’s stare. Harry breaks first, looking at Anthony. “Don’t forget to thank Anthony too, sweetie, the gift is from him as well.”

Anthony bends down, hugging her. He looks at Louis over her shoulder, a sense of longing in his eyes. Fuck, he’s a terrible husband. 

Harry and Lucy walk back hand-to-hand to the table, opening the rest of the presents. 12 presents later, the kids all gather inside the home to watch a movie, Anne and Gemma taking on the responsibility to watch the little rascals. The rest of  adults stay outside, eating a bunch of candy since there’s no kids around asking them to share. 

Everyone is smiling and looking in love with their partners, and then there’s him and Anthony standing stiffly beside each other. Louis tries reaching for his hand, but Anthony dodges it and reaches for another can of pepsi.

“We need to be leaving soon.” Anthony mumbles to him in a clipped tone, “I have a meeting right after our flight.”

“Okay.” Louis says, “let me just say bye to the kids, and then we can head out. Can you tell everyone out here we’re leaving?”

Anthony only nods, walking over to Ben. 

Louis goes into the house through the backdoor, “hey, grandma.” He says playfully to Anne. 

Anne smiles, “wait until you have grandkids of your own, you won’t want to be called anything else but grandpa.”

Louis smiles tensely, “I bet. I came in here to say bye to the girls.” 

“You’re leaving so soon?” 

“Anthony has a meeting early tomorrow morning.”

“The life of being a mayor’s husband,” she sighs, “It must be tough for you, huh?”

She has no idea. 

Anne clicks pause, causing a collective small cry of boos to emerge. “Sorry kiddos, Louis’ leaving and wants to say bye to the birthday girl.”

Her popcorn covered face looks at him with sad eyes, “nooooooo.”

Louis walks over to the couch, picking her up easily since she’s pretty small for a 6 year old. “I’ll come visit soon.” 

Niall’s daughter Catalina, scoffs loudly, “you always say that.”

He flicks Catalina gently on the arm, “you weren’t complaining when I sent you exclusive merch for your favourite band…what are they called? No shopper?”

Catalina cheeks heat up like most 11 year old girls with crushes, “show stoppers.” She corrects him. "Thanks again." 

“That’s what Godfathers are for.”

“Why aren’t you my Godfather too, Lou Lou?” Lucy asks innocently.

Louis' mouth goes dry, “oh, uhm-I - uhh …” 

“Louis has to get going, honey.” Anne says, taking her from his arms. “Say bye.” 

“Bye, Lou Lou.”

“Bye, Lucy. Happy Birthday.”  

He leaves the room and pulls open the front door, the same time Natalie pushes. Her small body bumping into him. Louis puts his hands on her shoulder to steady her. “Geesh, Natalie. You’re just as clumsy as your husband.”

“So I’ve heard.” she laughs, flicking her short blonde hair out of her sunflower eyes. “Anthony told me you were leaving and I wanted to ask if you wanted cake to go?”

More cake does sound nice, “you’re trying to fatten me up aren’t you? I'll take two.”

She beams, “I’ll go wrap that up for you. Harry’s out front setting up Lucy’s telescopes. Thank you so much for that by the way. Lucy and Harry always camp in the backyard on Thursday nights, it’s their father-daughter time. It’s beautiful.” She says emotionally, not realizing the more guilt she’s pushing into Louis’ stomach. “Why don’t you go help him until I’m done.” 

“Sure.” Louis walks down the cement stairs and turns left, finding Harry leaning over a table in the garage. “I come to offer my mighty hand services.”

Harry raises his head with a sleazy smile, “Do you charge by the hour?”

A loud laugh escapes Louis before he can stop himself, “shut up.” He says, pulling up his sleeves. “How’s it going with this?” 

“It's a bit challenging to build by myself. Can you hold this down while I screw this in?” 

“This?” Louis asks, referring to the neck of the scope. 

“Yeah.” 

Louis holds the neck tightly, while Harry hands work on the screws. “Why’d you get her this anyway?” Harry asks, picking up the next screw in the process.  

Louis shrugs.  

Harry gives him an unconvinced look.

“I don’t want her to be afraid of wishing.”

Harry's hand pauses as he brings his gaze up to him, “what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” 

Harry tilts his head to the side, a small amused smile on his lips, “I’m not afraid of wishing anymore, Lou.”

“You’re not?”

Harry shakes his head, “no, I just don’t have anything to wish for. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.” He says, smiling softly over Louis’ head. 

Louis drops his hands, stepping to the side to let a blushing Natalie through. Harry pulls his wife close to him and kisses her on the cheek. “Thanks for coming to the party, Louis.” She says. 

“Thanks for having me.” He says thickly, taking the cake from her outstretched hand, praying that neither of them notice the tremors in his. “Have a nice night.”

Louis reaches the car quickly, “ready to go?” He asks once he’s sat inside. 

Anthony responds by starting the car.

---

38 years old  

Harry slams his car door. For all fucking times for this to happen, it had to be when he had a court case He rushes back inside his house and heads to his bedroom, “Nat, I need to borrow your car, I have a flat tire. Do you have anywhere to be?” 

Natalie sticks her head out of the washroom, adjusting the pearl necklace that Harry gifted her for their anniversary two weeks ago. “No, I just have a meeting with my team tonight. They want to run through the Leonard case once more.”

“Again?”

She nods, spritzing herself with a rose perfume that she’s grown quite fond of lately. He should ask her where she bought it, so he can surprise her with something else from the brand. “You want me to take your car to the shop?”

“Please.” Harry exclaims, “if it’s not too much trouble.”

Natalie saunters over to him, rubbing his shoulders. “It’s no trouble at all. I’ll deal with it after I drop Lucy off at school.” She says, kissing his cheek. “I love you, have a good day at work.”

Harry pulls her back in before she moves, breathing in her scent. “I love you too.” He mumbles into her hair and then runs back outside to the car. 

He should’ve known the flat tire was a sign that it would be a bad day because 10 minutes into his car ride, he gets pulled over. It’s times like these he regrets becoming a lawyer. 

“License and registration please.” The female officer says to him.

“Yeah,yeah, yeah, just give me a second.” He reaches over the gear shift, opening the glove compartment and just stares. 

“Is everything all right, sir?”

Harry tries to answer, but his mind can’t focus on anything else other than the condoms spilling onto the seat.  

~ 

He pulls up to Zayn’s house later that night, ringing the doorbell once because he knows the kids must be asleep by now. 

It’s dark and silent at first but then a light gets turned on somewhere in the house. “Harry?” Zayn says when he opens the door, rubbing his eyes, “what are you doing here ?”

Harry shrugs lifelessly, “It was either here or the bar.”

Zayn pulls him into his house worriedly. “What happened?” 

Harry sinks to the ground, back against the front door. “She’s cheating on me.”

---

39 years old 

“You can’t just leave!” Louis yells, “we’re married! We made vows! We’re supposed to talk these things out, not give up!” 

Anthony pushes him out of the way and continues to pack his clothes, his life, and everything that Louis cherishes the most into a small yellow suitcase. 

“Anthony, please.” Louis begs, kicking the suitcase out of the way. He kneels in front of him, tears streaming down his face onto Anthony’s clothed thighs. “Please don’t go.” He whispers desperately. 

Anthony lifts Louis' head, sandwiching his face between his soft palms. “I just think we just need some space. That’s all.”

---

7 days ago 

“Get off my property, Louis.”

“How could you do this to me? This is my career too, not just fucking yours.” Louis hisses, forcing himself inside the large suburban house and throwing the newspaper on the ground. “You had no right to announce to the whole damn world we’re separated without consulting me first.” 

“Well, aren’t we?” Anthony asks condescendingly, walking away with his back to Louis. “I would’ve liked to announce that we were divorced, but you still won’t sign the damn papers. How much more of my life do you plan to suck away from me, Louis?”  

“Oh that’s rich coming from you.” Louis laughs hollowly, “did you think I enjoyed campaigning or having to cut our vacations short because of your career? You took much more from me than you even realize. I could’ve been happier, so much happier with someone else.”  

“With who? Harry? Believe me, I know. I'm sure if you ask, he'll be all yours like you always wanted. ”

Louis stops following him, an ice cold shiver running down his spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Anthony’s back tenses, “16 years. 16 years. You'd think by now I would deserve the truth but you’ll never admit it to me. Never.” Anthony mumbles. 

“Admit what, Anthony?” Louis says strongly, though his eyes burn. “I have nothing to admit.” He says, blinking away the tears that want to fall. “Nothing.” He says in a low voice. “I love you.”    

Anthony’s arms move up, his hands landing somewhere on his face that Louis can’t see. “Out of all the dumb shit I've done in my life,” Anthony stops, releasing a single laugh, a dry broken dull sound, “believing you was my biggest mistake. Marrying you was my second.”  

Present

This is what Anthony's always wanted, isn’t it? 

The big red brick home stands mockingly in front of Louis, reminding him of everything he just lost and maybe didn’t deserve. He walks up the driveway, his feet feeling like they weigh a ton. He knew this would be hard, but fucking hell, this is torture. People warned him about how hard marriage is, yet forgot to mention that divorce isn’t some walk in the park either.

This will be the last time they see each other

There’ll be no more pretending that it will work out, or random desperate nights when their bodies crave each other. There'll only be conversations with other people where they speak of each other in past tense. Past.  He twirls the ring around his finger, savoring the tightness of it before it’ll be gone for good. Does Anthony remember their first date? Their first kiss? Their first I love you? Does he consider those moments a mistake as well?

“I should call the police on you for trespassing.” Anthony says, emerging from the home built for families. He stands on the veranda with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you here to cause me more trouble?” 

Louis' stomach plummets, this is what happens when you don’t give your heart fully away to someone. You turn the person you love into someone who hates you because they knew before you did. Anthony knew it all along, from the very night they got with each other 

Louis walks closer towards his husband’s house, a hand over his eyes to block the sun so he can see Anthony more clearly.  “Hi.”  

Anthony's arms tighten where they rest on his chest, “You can’t keep showing up here like this, I don’t like it.” He says, stepping fully outside his home and shutting the door behind him. 

Oh. He has someone else in there, probably the same person from the picture. 

“What do you want, Louis?”

“I came by to give you these.” Louis hands Anthony the envelope filled with coffee stains, proof of how long it sat on his table untouched and used as a coaster. 

Anthony grabs the envelope out of his hand, ripping it open with an eagerness he's only seen from children on Christmas day. Anthony alternates between looking at him and the pages in front of him. “You signed them." He mutters in disbelief, “ finally.” 

Torture doesn't even come close to explaining this situation anymore. 

“Heads up, Mayor Thomas.” Louis says, slipping the ring off his finger and tossing it to Anthony. “Whoever you marry next, I hope they won’t be your third mistake. Have a good life, love.”

Louis turns around and walks to the bottom of the long driveway, ignoring Anthony's calls behind him. He enters his car and Stephen, his personal driver, looks in the rearview mirror at him. “Where to now?”

“Anywhere.” 

Stephen drives him around the city, distracting Louis from his thoughts and then drives him to the location he should’ve been hours ago. 

“Took you long enough.” Lucas complains when Louis steps inside the jet. “George, would you be a doll and tell the pilot we’re all set to leave. Thank youuu.”  

Louis steps past the flight attendant and sits down next to Lucas, grabbing a cup of espresso from the tiny table next to him. 

“So…” Lucas begins inquisitively when the flight attendant leaves the area, “you sign them?”

Louis tries to form the words, tries to say yes, but he can’t find the energy to do so. He just rubs the palest part of his ring finger and hopes that gives Lucas the answer he is waiting for. He thinks it does, because for the rest of the flight, Lucas holds his hand. The Jet lands two and a half hours later, arriving in the dark and rainy city of Montgomery. Lucas and him take their luggage from the tarmac and wheel them over to the Porsche waiting for them. 

“Wow!” Louis exclaims. He tells the driver his home address before facing Lucas in the backseat, “I'm assuming you're not staying with me tonight?” Louis asks, taking in all the rose petals on the seat. 

A childish tint burns on Lucas' face, “no, not tonight. Marcus says he has a surprise for me.” He says bashfully. “I can't believe this is how our lives turned out. How did we get so lucky, Lou?”

“Right. Lucky.” Louis mumbles, staring at his empty ring finger.

“Hey, just say the word and I’m all yours tonight.” Lucas pulls his phone out of his pocket. "I'll cancel my plans with Marcus right now." 

Louis grabs his hand before he does something foolish, “stop. I’m not the first person in the world to go through a divorce, and I definitely won’t be the last. I can deal with my emotions. Go have fun.”

“How can I possibly have fun knowing you're sad? If you don't want me to cancel, at least come with me. We can have a friends night, doesn’t that sound fun?” 

“Not really.” Louis says flatly, “that's actually a worse idea than the first. Besides, I’m not sad. I’m just…adjusting.” Louis admits, while the driver pulls up to the empty driveway of his house. "Enjoy tonight, Lucas. They don’t happen as often as you deserve. ”

Louis gets out of the car and grabs his suitcase out the trunk.

Lucas rolls down the window and pops his head out, small drops of rain hitting his face. “Promise you’ll call if you need me?” 

"Promise. Tell Marcus I'll be sending him my dry cleaning bill, my pants now have rose stains .” 

“Ha! will do.” Lucas blows him a kiss while the car drives away and out of sight.  

Louis stands on the sidewalk and looks at his old home, his old safe haven. He looks at the home next door, his second safe haven. If he thinks hard enough, he can see a boy with wild curly hair running around the front yard and a idiotic blue eyed kid trailing behind him. 

The door next door opens and two little girls run out wildly with their mother trailing behind them, an umbrella in her hand to shield her young children from the drizzle of rain. Louis waves to the woman he met a few years back. Anne moved away a decade ago, selling her home to a young family. He smiles at the two sisters, he’s thrilled to know someone’s filling that home with good memories. 

He walks towards his own house, pushing in the key and is greeted with the quiet. His mother moved away seven years ago, leaving him and his sisters the home to visit whenever they were in town. They all avoid the city like a plague, but every once in a while, this home comes in handy. He walks up the creaky staircase and goes to his room around the corner. He sits on the edge of his bed, and just thinks of all the events he went through today. He’ll never forgive himself for making Anthony feel like he was second best, he’ll never forgive himself for not being honest from the start. 

He stands up and takes off his scratchy suit, and puts on a white t-shirt he grabbed from his luggage. He lifts the covers and climbs into his double sized bed, the sheets smelling fresh, courtesy of the housekeeper that comes over every other week. He pulls the covers over his head and inhales the scent that reminds him of his youth. Coconut and Lemon. 

He sleeps soundly through the night and awakes when the sun is bright and high in the sky. “Today is the day.” He mutters to himself, before getting out of bed. He goes through his standard morning routine: brush teeth, shower, style his hair, and then he’s getting dressed in a pair of black pants and a short-sleeved red button down. 

He pushes his wallet into his back pocket and leaves his home with his ticket in hand. The journey to his old school is much faster than he remembered, arriving at the cream coloured building in less than 10 minutes on foot. He pulls open the heavy red doors and follows the sound of the music. 

He hands his ticket to the woman sat at a long rectangular table and enters the gymnasium filled with all the students that graduated the same year as him, reading the banner on the wall: Class of 2010 - School Reunion  

A hush falls over the gym when he enters.

He assumes they all read his book, well at least most. They know he can’t remember everything, they know about his failed attempt, they know all his secrets- his pains, his thoughts, and about his never ending battle with addiction. The only secret they don’t know is who his first love really was, but they read about that love. They probably just confused it like everyone else- they all thought he was talking about three little pills. 

Newsflash, he wasn't.

“Finally!” Niall groans from across the gym, walking over to him. Veronica stays back, standing awkwardly with a drink in her hand and a group of people Louis knows she doesn’t know. 

Louis meets him halfway, “Niall, my man.” Louis says, walking straight into his friend’s arms and squeezing extra tight. Louis waves at Veronica with one hand, and she politely waves back. 

Niall pulls back right away, his eyes zeroed in on the hand he just waved with. “Lou," Niall breathes in shock, "your ring?”

“Where are my godchildren?” Louis says to change the topic. “I haven’t seen them in a while.” 

Niall frowns, a desperate question in his eyes but Louis pretends like he doesn't see. 

“They’re at the mini kids party down the hall, something the school put together for the kids.” Niall turns around to the table behind him, scooping up some sliced strawberries onto a plate. “Fruit?”

“Thank you.” Louis says, taking the offered plate. Louis bites into the strawberry, looking around the gym to spot any familiar faces. He sees a few classmates, and Niall’s old friend group,  Damion to be more specific. Last he heard is that he's a professor at Yale and married. The woman next to him with red coily hair must be his wife. She’s beautiful. He spots Zayn close by, whispering in the corner beside Ben with a small baby in his arms. 

“Do you ever miss him?” Louis asks without thinking, he blames the jetlag. 

“What?” Niall asks mid-chew, "miss Zayn? Like being with him? No.” His face scrunches up in disgust, “why would you ask me that?"  

“I don’t know where that question came from. Forget I said anything."

"No, Lou Tell me why you asked me that?"  

“I was just curious, that's all."

He can tell that Niall sees through all the shit he's saying, "the reason I don't miss Zayn is because he wasn't the one meant for me." Niall says softly, "but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a time I thought about him constantly. Because I did, especially in the beginning of Veronica and I's relationship." 

“You did?"

Niall laughs quietly at his reaction. “Of course, Louis. It's normal to think about someone you’re no longer with. I didn't think about him because I missed being with him though. My thoughts were more aligned with what could have been? And how could he say he loved me and then do that to me...it was really hard for me to allow myself to fall in love with anyone because I feared they would say they loved me, but then have a secret person they loved more on the side."

Louis frowns.

"I know. It was a ridiculous fear to have. But that's what it was like for me. And then I met my lovely wife.” Niall says with a reminiscent smile, looking over at his wife who keeps sending him pleading glances to come save her. “After marrying her, I finally understood why Zayn’s thought process back then. There’s love and then there’s love . I loved Zayn, but I love Veronica. Zayn loved me, but he was head over heels in love with his baby daddy over there." Niall chuckles, "If I was in Zayn’s shoes, I probably would have done the same thing and just hoped for the day our relationship fizzled. I wouldn't have had the courage to hurt him. Thankfully, you tore us apart before it got to that.”

Louis chokes on a grape. 

Niall slaps his back, “I’m kidding. I just want you to understand there's nothing wrong with thinking about what could've been, but it all worked out for the best don't you think?

“Yeah.” Louis coughs, a piece of the grape still feeling lodged somewhere it's not supposed to be. “It did all work out perfectly for you.” 

"And you too."

Louis looks away. 

Niall forks his last strawberry into his mouth and throws away the plate. He leans closer to Louis, whispering so only he can hear. "Lou, do you want to go outside and talk about it?"

That's the last thing he wants to do. "Let's just drop it." 

“It’s dropped.” Niall says sympathetically, “Come on, let’s go save my wife from the drama kids.” 

Niall drags Louis to the other side of the gym and in little no time they both get separated, getting pulled into different groups, talking with their respective old friends and teachers. Louis remembers some and other he doesn’t, but they don’t hold it against him. He stays close to Marcus, who is swarmed by fans/classmates and next to his model girlfriend of the month. Lucas greets Marcus like an old friend, talking with him neutrally like they haven’t been together for decades. Like they weren't together last night. Again, Louis feels shitty for what he said the day before. 

The day flies by fast and eventually it's night, all his former classmates crowding in the middle of the room and dancing their hearts away. Except Louis and Marcus. 

“Hey,” Marcus whispers to him from where they’re leaning against the wall. “Harry was looking for you earlier, you see him?” 

“No." He thought Harry didn't bother showing up. "I didn't even know he was here.”   

“He's here. He's just working from his phone in the hallway, I think he’s got a big case coming up or something."

"Oh."

Marcus knocks his shoulder, "you should go find him."

"No." Louis shakes his head quickly, "I'm not going to do that."

" You will. Lucas is right, you need closure. This shit has been going on for too long."

"Do you and Lucas tell each other everything?"

"Yes. He's my husband."

Right. Husband.

"No. Don’t get into your head, Lou. Go find him.” Marcus says, pointing his chin at the gym door. “Go.”  

“But Lucas-“

“Will be fine without you. See? Zayn's keeping his company.” Marcus says, pointing at the two guys on the floor that are dancing like crazy rabbits, but their husbands seem perfectly fine with the ordeal. Especially Marcus whose eyes are lit with humour and love. 

Did Anthony and him ever look at each other like that? 

“Okay." Louis mumbles, "I’ll go. I need a ride back to the airport tonight, so make sure you guys don’t leave without me. I mean it Marcus, Lucas always tries to pull some funny shit with me. I have meetings to go to tomorrow.”

"We'll wait for you. And Louis?"

"Yeah?"

"If not us, at least talk to him about your divorce. He'll understand what you're going through."

With that a small nod, Louis quietly slips out of the gymnasium, Marcus' words whirling through his mind. 

He walks slowly down the halls, admiring the walls he once hated and once loved. The walls he hates are the ones that are shut behind doors, his little hiding spots for when he needed a quick fix before class. The walls he loves are stretched across the staircase and library, all his memories with Zayn lay there. Crying over boys on the football team and hiding away with a book in their hands. He should hate those walls as well, but he can't. They may not speak anymore, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss that friendship more days than not. 

He runs his fingers against the railing of the staircase,the memories coursing through his fingertips. God, where do the years go? When he reaches the second floor, he makes a sharp left to where his old locker used to be. 

“I understand what you’re saying Patrick, but this is a great opportunity for the company. We shouldn’t pass up on it because of the location. I told you I have no problem running that division. Yes. She knows." Then a small pause, " of course , we’ve worked out a schedule.” 

Louis walks towards the voice, spotting Harry sitting on the ground with a phone pressed against his ear and coincidentally, sitting exactly where they first danced years ago. “Patrick, my vote is not changing. Yes. A million times, yes. ”

Louis halts in front of him, Harry raises his head. His lips tilt to the side in a short smile, the dimple in his right cheek appearing. “Yes, I’m willing to do that, no doubt about it.” He says, keeping his eyes strictly on Louis. 

Louis leans his head to the side, silently asking if he should go. But Harry shakes his head, holding up his pointer finger, telling him to wait. Stay. “Okay. I understand. Call me back after you speak to the rest of the team.”  Harry takes the earpiece out of his right ear, “well if it isn't Louis Tomlinson.” Harry drawls, “have you been hiding from me all night?”

“Me ? You seem to be the only one hiding.” 

"I've been stuck in meetings. What’s your excuse?” 

“Seeing as I was in the gymnasium the whole time, I don’t need an excuse. Who the hell has meetings at night anyway?” 

“It’s not night everywhere.” Harry pats the ground next to him, “sit.” 

Louis looks down the empty halls before crouching down on the ground, his knees cracking loudly in the process. “Hush it.” Louis mutters when Harry smirks at him. He places his butt on the cold hard ground, and brings his legs up to his chest, resting his head on top of his bent knees. This can't be good for his back at all, “we’re far too old for this shit, man.” Louis groans, when he feels a jab at the bottom of his spine. 

“Agreed.” Harry nods, pushing a few gray strands of hair away from his eyes. "Hi, Louis." Harry says with a sincere smile, staring straight into his eyes.

"Hi, Harry." Louis says, staring right back. Looking at Harry right now, all he can think is how strange it is that humans grow older, every single thing changes with age, yet our eyes? Our eyes never change. If he only had Harry’s eyes to look at, he would feel more confident to ask. Saying everything he planned to say a lifetime ago. But when he circles his gaze around Harry’s older face, he’s reminded of all the minutes, days, months that have passed. 

The years they spent apart and the years they spent with other people, whom they both loved. 

He looks away with a knot in his chest and stares at the lockers in front of him. What is he even doing here? Closure, he hears, the words said to him the day before and downstairs. He needs closure. 

When he looks back to Harry, he sees Harry's gaze has shifted downwards and is stuck on his hands. Louis looks down at his own hands curiously, and notices that he has been absentmindedly rubbing the spot his ring used to be, his right hand tugging on the pale circle of skin.

Harry brings his gaze back to his face, “did you lose your ring?”

Louis smirks, well at least he thinks he’s smirking. “Tada. Looks like you got another member in the divorce club.” He jokes.

Harry doesn’t react how Louis thought he would, his face stuck in an expression of utter disbelief. "That's not funny, Louis. You're joking, right?" When Louis gives no reaction to indicate otherwise, Harry's face drops even more, morphing into one of the pitiful looks he's been receiving in the past 24 hours. "When?"

“Yesterday.” Louis clears his throat, attempting to sound okay. "I mean, I signed the papers yesterday." 

"Yesterday?” Harry whispers, looking lost for words. "Are you okay?" 

Yes. Yes, he’s okay. Louis nods, yet he says: “no. No, I’m not.” He says, scrubbing his hand over his freshly shaven face. “But that’s expected. I'm just trying to hold it together." 

“When Natalie and I got divorce, I couldn’t leave my bed for months. The fact you're even here, right now, that's-that's... fuck, hats off to you.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “that’s because it was you and Natalie, I’m sure you guys broke things off much more amicably than Anthony and I. This divorce has been in the works for almost a year, so I’ve had months to prepare for 'this'. ”

“Amicable?” Harry scrunches his nose, "she cheated on me. Niall didn't tell you?” 

Niall rarely tells him anything about Harry, only Lucas keeps him updated through what he's learned from Zayn. How this information slipped through the cracks is beyond him.

 “ Natalie?" He asks for clarification, "Natalie cheated?” Natalie doesn’t even look like she would step on an ant without bursting into tears. 

A tiny laugh flows from Harry’s red lips, a deep rich tone echoing around the hall. “You had the same reaction as Zayn. Yes, the one and only Natalie cheated.” He sighed, “sometimes you think you know a person…”

“But you really don’t.” Louis says, understanding the sentiment entirely. “Or maybe, you ignored how she always was. You wanted to focus on what you loved about her rather than what you didn’t.” Louis says, talking more to himself than to Harry. “Maybe I knew him all along.” He utters quietly, looking at the finger where his ring used to lay. “From one divorced man to the next, when did you stop blaming yourself?” 

Harry pushes his hands into his pocket and crosses his legs at the ankle. He shrugs and leans back, “I’ll tell you once I find out.” He says, looking over at him with a thoughtful expression. “I don’t think I was a bad husband, but I know I was far from perfect. There's a list of things I should have done differently, but the truth of the matter is that she was the one that chose to step out of our marriage. The outcome would have always been the same regardless if I was a 'better' husband. Some things aren’t meant to be repaired or fixed, ya know? After all the shit I've witnessed with my clients, I’m a firm believer that divorce is always for the best. That doesn’t mean this hasn't been one of the hardest things I've gone through, but everything happens for a reason.” 

Louis bites down on his bottom lip, feeling sick to the stomach when he touches his empty finger again. 

Harry jostles his shoulder, “do you want to talk about it?”

“I wouldn't even know where to start.” He admits through his tight voice, looking up at the glass covered lights. 

“How about why’d you guys get a divorce?” 

He thinks I didn’t love him , Louis thinks. “Anthony wanted kids.” He responds.

“Oh.” Harry’s brows draw together like everyone else when he mentions this, since it's Louis. They don’t understand how Louis , the same person who has spent his whole life talking about wanting a family, doesn't want kids .   “...you didn’t?” Harry asks slowly.

“I did. I do.” Louis says defeatedly, "I love kids. It’s just… I’m a writer. I work from home or from my office. Anthony? He barely came home. Now imagine throwing a kid into that mix, kids- many kids. I would have to take on the responsibility of raising them, alone, while he got to show them off like some trophies in city hall. I’d have to be both the fun and strict parent because my husband values New York over his family. I’d have to stay up all night and figure out a way to explain to our kids why their father chose prestigious meetings with important CEOs over them, like he did with me. I want kids. So much. I just- I-” He breathes in deep, “I didn’t want them with him.” He exhales, letting the truth out for once. "That drove an unremovable wedge between us, and by the time I was considering just going ahead with the adoption, he dropped this fucking bomb on me.  I don't know Harry, it probably was my fault. I just kept saying I'm not ready. I was never honest with him and in the end, it cost me my husband." Louis buries his head in his hands, not to cry, just to try to breathe.

"You were honest with him."

Louis lifts his head, "huh?"

"You weren't ready. You were honest with him and told him that. You shouldn't blame yourself for not being ready." 

"That's a pretty way of looking at it."

"That's the only way you should be looking at it.” Harry presses, face stern. “Anthony should have respected your decision instead of letting the best thing he had go.” 

The best thing he had go . He searches Harry’s face to see if those words are from just a place of pity, but he can see it’s not. He meant them completely. 

 “Thank you for listening to me, Harry.” Louis says, closing the conversation before he ends up spilling every single problem about his past marriage. He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling softly. “I think I unloaded much more than I needed to. Sorry for that." 

Harry shakes his head, “I asked. It’s what friends are for.”

“Yeah.” Friends. Louis grimaces at the ground. “I was going to call you a few months back.”

“What stopped you?”

"I ran out of time." Louis says, words never more true. 

Harry nods in understanding, “what were you going to say?”

"I wanted to -” ask do you think it would have been different with us? “I wanted to tell you congratulations on 10 years sober. It’s a great accomplishment.”

Harry gives him a small smile that doesn't quite reach the eyes. “Oh. Thank you." He says appreciatively, "it was-uhm- it was hard this year. Especially following the divorce. But your books helped me through it-- there’s no worse relationship than addiction and man. Drugs constantly hurt me, but I keep seeking them out, finding solace in the moments they protected me from all the other pains I couldn’t control. Sometimes we’re blind to the addiction that hurts us the most because they’re good to us when it’s just us alone.” Harry says, reciting a line from his second book. “That was one of my favourite lines.”

Page 132. The page that had tear stains all over the rough draft. 

He laughs on the inside, because Harry knows. He knows it’s about him. 

"You read three little pills?" He asks, even though he knows the answer. 

Harry releases a depressing laugh, turning his face away. “I read all your books, Louis. They saved me.” He says quietly, still not looking at him.

Louis stares at his side profile, the crinkles at his tired eyes and the tiny wrinkle beside his mouth. “I’m glad it helped you stay sober.” Louis says, “but my books didn’t save you, you saved yourself. You're a tough kid, Hazza.” 

The nickname slips out naturally, but he stops himself from correcting himself when he spots a dimple appearing and a shine in his eyes when Harry looks back over at him. 

Louis tries to return the smile, but he doesn’t think it’s appearing right. His skin feels tight and cold. What could their life have been if they chose each other?

What is life like with the love of your life? He wishes he could say. A journalist asked him that once after one of Anthony’s speeches, aggressively pointing a mic in his face, Mr. Tomlinson, what is it like being married to the love of your life? He didn’t answer, he just smiled politely and pushed the mic away, because how could he say: I don’t know . How could he say marrying Anthony was one of the best choices in his life, yet in the same breath say not fighting for Harry was one of his biggest mistakes. How could he have said that? How could he admit that?  

He turns away and rests his head on the cold locker. He feels 16 again, confused and small, sitting on the ground with his ‘best’ friend and feeling the thump of the music playing under his legs. Harry remains quiet as well, but Louis hears his movement, the tap of his fingers on the ground and the rattling of his keys in his pocket whenever he shifts slightly. 

He hears it all. 

The songs change, the people downstairs chatting, the babies crying in the daycare center, the busy street outside, the thumping of his heart, the voices in his head, the shallowness of his breath. 

He hears it all. 

And then they both hear it. Harry's tapping ceased and Louis' ears buzzed. His tongue tastes like wine. 

“Next time we dance to this song for real, I’ll tell you.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“What were you going to tell me that day?” Louis asks nonchalantly, because it's not like it matters anymore. He turns to Harry, whose eyes are now closed, his head resting on the locker behind him.

“You already know.” Harry smiles strangely, his adam's apple bobbing as he speaks. “I was going to tell you everything. That I loved you.” He says with a laugh, a nostalgic expression shining on his face before it disappears all together. “I was in love with you.”

Was. Loved. 

“Loved.” Louis mutters to himself, past tense. Nick loved him, Anthony loved him , and Harry loved him. Who else has loved him? Who else will fall out of love with him? 

Harry turns to him with open eyes, “would you have said it back?”  

Louis looks at him in shock, is that even a question? “What do you think?” Louis asks, a snip in his words. He stood in front of Harry that day and told him everything. Every single thing. Harry knows what he would've said back then. 

“At least it was mutual.” Harry mumbles.

Mutual. Was. 

Louis shakes his head and hides his expression away from Harry, feeling too overwhelmed.

"Hey," Harry nudges his foot with his. "Turn that frown upside down. Tonight is to have fun, don't think about Anthony."

Anthony. This is why Lucas said he needs closure after all, because Anthony’s the furthest thing on his mind.  

Ask. 

“Do you ever regret it?” He asks before he loses the courage, his congested voice making his words sound contorted and inaudible. He keeps his eyes on his lap as the rest of the question run-free through his mind, do you ever think about us? Do you ever stay up at night and wish you could turn back time to fix all our mistakes? Do you regret not choosing me? Because I hope you do. I wish you had chosen me. Those words sit at the tip of his tongue, but it all boils down to, “do you regret it?” He asks once more with a clear voice, angling his body towards Harry so they are face-to-face. “Do you regret leaving me, Haz?”

Harry faces twists into a perplexed expression, like this was the last thing he expected to hear from him. Louis understands, he’s surprised he even asked, but he wants to know, needs to know. 

 "I-I...” Harry’s words taper off, his brows furrowed in concentration, but his eyes communicate everything. And Louis hears it. He hears it all. Even in the silence. He hears it. 18 years later, he’s got his answer. It may not have been the one he wanted, but it's the one he thinks he always knew he would get. 

It’s closure. 

Harry’s phone starts to ring in his pocket, and he looks pained as the ringtone fills the hall. He puts the earpiece back in his ear, avoiding Louis' eyes, and speaks quietly. "Hey, angel.” Harry says enthusiastically, though his face remains the opposite. “Are you getting ready for bed now? ….yeah? What did mummy say about it? I can only agree if she does, love.”  

Louis stands up off the ground, dusting the dust off his pants. Harry follows his movement, looking torn and apologetic.  Louis just smiles because he shouldn't have asked. He waves goodbye to his old friend before leaving because he doesn't want Harry to think he's ruined the progress of them becoming 'friends' again. But most of all, he doesn't want Harry to think he's mad. Because he’s not. How could he be mad? Harry made the right choice for himself. The only person Louis can be mad at is himself for believing they both shared regrets, when it was only him.

It was always only him. 

Louis enters the now half empty gymnasium, and finds Marcus and Lucas leaned up against the wall. Marcus' paid girlfriend gone for the night. “You ready to head out?” Marcus asks when he sees him.  

Louis nods, twisting the skin around his ring finger. “I’m ready.”  

6 months later

--- 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Louis Tomlinson!”  Mandy announces, causing the small crowd in the cafe to erupt in applause. 

Louis walks to the front where a small stool is placed for him. “Thank you, Mandy.” He says to his assistant and friend,“and thank you everyone for coming this afternoon.” He says to the room that holds his biggest fans. “It’s fucking freezing out there. I feel like a dick for making you guys even have to pay for my books after going through that. ” They all laugh.

And then the show begins, him reading sections from his book and explaining the thought process behind it.

He has a love and hate relationship for these book tours, he loves seeing how his words move people, how they rely on it for their own sobriety. He loves hearing what they went through and knowing he wasn’t alone in all his struggles. What he hates is having to read a part of his book out loud, reliving those moments again and again. This book was a bit more personal, touching on his divorce and about all the different types of love he has gone through in his life. 

Familial love. 

Platonic love. 

Puppy love.

Marital love. 

True love.

It’s hard to sit in front of a room and read “ I look forward to the day when the only love I receive is in the present tense. Never past. ‘Loved’ , a word I pray to never hear spoken out of another lover's mouth. Loved."  His voice always cracks on the last word, reminding him that there’s only so much of him that’s healed from all the heartbreaks. The crowd enjoys every minute though, sometimes he feels like they see him as a fictional character, not a real entity that has to live and breathe this reality every day and night. 

“Any more questions?” Mandy asks from beside him a few hours later. The group in front of him collectively shakes their heads, looking eager to get their books signed. “Okay, let’s give Mr. Tomlinson another round of applause and then we’ll move onto the signing portion of the evening.” 

The people clap loudly for him and he does a small bow before heading to the back room just for a moment alone. He heads back out a minute later and sits at the rectangular table, allowing the first person to come up. “Who should I sign this out to?” He says to the young girl with a bursting smile in front of him. She looks just like her father, “to my baba.” She says happily, waving at Zayn that hangs at the back of the room. 

Louis sends him a small smile. 

Things aren’t like they used to be, but they’re good enough to the point that Louis calls him up occasionally to see how he and his family are doing. Forgiving Zayn wasn't easy, but it was something he realized he had to do. He couldn't keep blaming Zayn for going behind his back, for wanting the best for him, because if the roles were reversed, he would have done the exact same thing. That was a difficult pill to swallow after his therapist confronted him about the whole situation. It took him some time to admit the truth, and then even more time to make the phone call, but he's glad he did. Zayn accepted him with open arms, being the same guy Louis met when he was 14 years old. 

"Here you go, Farah." Louis says, handing the book back to her. "Tell your dad I'm taking you guys all out for breakfast tomorrow and then the arcade."

Her eyes light up, "Really? Thank you, Uncle Louis!!" She says excitedly, running over to her father and whispering in his ear. Zayn smiles at him gratefully, and then they leave the cafe, heading back to their hotel where the rest of his family remains. 

Louis moves onto the next person, and then the next,  the line never seeming to end. He signs for two hours straight, ignoring the cramp in his hand and focuses on the faces of every person he meets. Eventually the line starts to dwindle, faces becoming few. When it’s a quarter to 9, he calls it quits when no one enters the cafe for 20 minutes. 

“Hey,” he says to Mandy who is sitting at the front of the shop, tapping away on her laptop. “I'm calling it a night.” 

Mandy looks to her right, pushing down the blinds to peer out the window. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea." She mumbles. "Well this works out perfectly for us," She turns back to him, clapping her hands once. "Now I have time to take you out for celebratory dinner.”

“Oh. No no no,” Louis shakes his head, “you’ve done more than enough today. Go home. Bake a cake. Read a book. I don’t care, go. ”

“Come on, boss! I want to congratulate you - your book has only been out for two weeks and it's already a bestseller! That deserves some celebratory steak, don’t you think?" She gives him puppy dog eyes, "please.” 

Louis looks at his watch grumpily, this is why you shouldn’t become friends with people who work for you. “Fine,” he gives in, “just because you're my favourite assistant. Let me grab my coat and then we can head out.” 

“Yes!” She pumps her fist in the air and grabs up her purse from behind the counter. “Make it quick, I’m taking you to the Italian restaurant across the street. They always get crazy busy at this time.” 

“Luther’s restaurant?”

“Yes, hurry.” 

“Okay, boss .” Louis says. He walks to the back and packs up his copy of his book into his satchel and some letters his fans left him. He puts on his lightweight coat, leaving it open rather than zipping it up. 

“I’m sorry, sir. He’s finished signing for the night.” Louis overhears as he pushes through the flappy doors. “He’ll be back here next Tuesday though. 4pm.”

Louis walks around the counter and freezes when he sees the man he hasn’t seen in six months. For the first time in forever, there haven't been any events to attend. No weddings. No parties. No random get togethers. Nothing. Their communication has been limited to texting each other happy birthday, merry Christmas, happy New Years. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Harry’s posture sags, the stack of books under his arms drooping slightly. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

“Harry!” Louis says quickly, making his presence known before he slips out of the door. Louis walks over to him, smiling at his old friend. “Harry, what are you doing on my side of the woods?”  

A small smile graces Harry’s face, “I heard my favourite author was signing books. I couldn’t miss it.” 

“Favourite? That's a bit of an overstatement.”

“You’ve always been my favourite Lou, you know that.” Harry says, his loaded words sounding every bit earnest. “If it’s not too much trouble, I got a couple of books for you to sign…unless you have to leave?” He asks, looking over at Mandy who stands at the front door, looking eager to leave. “We can do this another time.” 

“No. I’ve got time.” Louis says with a wave of his hand, “come on over to the table and I’ll sign these for you.” Louis shrugs off his jacket and sits down in the chair he was just sitting in moments ago. “Mandy, I’ll meet you at the restaurant when I’m finished here, alright?” 

Mandy looks at him curiously, her eyes squinted and calculated. “Change of plans,” she says a beat too late, “I just remembered I’m s-seeing… Luther! Yes, Luther. Tonight. So we gotta raincheck dinner. Yea-bye.” She says, while flipping the open sign to close and running out of the cafe with her coat half on. 

“She’s a weird one, isn’t she?” Harry asks, sounding equally weirded out by Mandy’s dramatic exit. 

“You have no idea. Go pull up a chair. Get comfortable.”

Harry does as Louis says. He takes the brown hat of his head that looks drenched in snow, showing off his short brown hair that has specks of gray throughout.  He pushes his hat into the pocket of his beige trench coat and then shrugs it off altogether before laying it across one of the small cafe tables. 

“I’m sorry if I ruined your guys plans tonight.” Harry says, dragging a chair in front him, a loud screech echoing with the sound of metal against tiles. “I won’t take up much of your time, I swear.”

 “It was just dinner.” Louis uncaps his pen and leans forward, “and between me and you, Mandy has a thing for the chef that works there. Luther. You might just be the reason she builds up the courage to talk to him tonight.” 

“Hmmm, in that case, you’re welcome. I expect a wedding invitation and a gold plated cupid’s arrow.” 

Louis throws his head back in laughter, “the most you’ll be getting is a fruit basket.” Louis wheezes. He puts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Alright.” He exhales, “who do you want me to sign this out to?” He picks up one of the three books Harry has brought. His debut book, Silence . 

“To Lucy,” Harry says, sounding a bit embarrassed. “She said she wants your autograph after seeing your books on display at the bookstore. She said ‘ daddy, look lou lou’s famous .’” 

“Did she? What did you say?” Louis asks, scribbling to Lucy on the inside of the cover of the book, adding: to the girl with the sweetest soul and a smile that can change the world.

“I told her that’s why doing your homework is important. Kids who do their homework become famous.”

Louis passes him back the book, “I never did my homework.” 

“I know. Now I won’t have to share her with the world.” Harry takes the book, reading the inscription with a fatherly gleam. “Thank you, she’s going to love it.” He pushes his most recent book to him, broken promises. “This one is for Natalie.”

Louis snorts, “Natalie?” Louis questions, “you want me to add a special note on your behalf?”

“If you want, you can write whatever seems fit.”

“Something nice I presume?”

Harry’s lip twitches, a ghost of a smile. “Yes, Louis. Something nice .”

He pushes his unkind opinions aside and writes: To Natalie, the best is yet to come. 

Harry reads this one with a frown, “I said something nice, not a lie. I'm pretty sure I was the best.” He says, ego and all. 

“I’m sure you were,” Louis says sarcastically, though he means it. “Pass me the third book.”

Harry slides the last book towards him, three little pills. “This one's for me. You can write whatever you’d like.”

Louis’ scribbles his name To Harry, and then stops, thinking, wanting to choose his words wisely. After a few seconds, he continues the sentence and passes it back to Harry. 

“To Harry, the greatest friend I’ve ever known.” Harry reads aloud. “Thank you.” Harry says, still staring at the page intently with a frown. 

“Something a problem?”

“No.” Harry closes the book. “It’s perfect.” He says, though his face says the contrary. 

“Good. So how’ve you been, Harry?”

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Good.” Harry says again. 

An awkward silence grows between them, both of them sitting across from each other, yet their eyes remain on the brown chipped table beneath their hands. 

Louis clears his throat, causing Harry to lift his gaze back up to him. “Since you’re here, there’s something I’d like to say. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Harry tilts his head confused, “what do you have to be sorry about?”

Louis takes a deep breath, needing the extra calamity to voice what has been bothering him for some months now. “I shouldn’t have asked if you regretted… you know? At the reunion. Asking you that was unfair. And selfish. You have a daughter for fucksakes. It was completely out of line, so I apologize.”

Harry blinks at him with spacey eyes, his brows furrowed and lips set in a straight line. “I think I might just be the crappiest father out there.” Harry mumbles, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face. “Lucy’s not the reason I have no regrets . It should be, but it’s not. You misunderstood me.”

“Oh.” Louis says, feeling like an idiot because what if Harry doesn’t have any regrets because he’s just been okay without him? “I’m still sorry. I shouldn’t…whatever, just forget it.” He babbles, his neck warm.

“Is that what you want?” Harry asks quietly, eyeing him hesitantly. “For us to forget it, like everything else?” 

“Yes. That’s what I want.” Louis admits. 

Harry’s lip presses into a straight line. “Okay, it’s forgotten.” 

“Thank you.” Louis mumbles, looking at his watch. Now that his plans are canceled, he can have an early night after all. “Okay, thanks for stopping by. Have a good night.” Louis says, standing up, waiting for Harry to do the same, but Harry remains seated. “Harry?” 

“The only reason I don’t have any regrets is because of you.” Harry says to the table, not meeting his eyes. “At the reunion, I thought you understood what I meant but you didn’t. You’re the only reason. I mean- just look at your life, Louis. You’re a New York Times bestseller. You’re sitting in a cafe signing books for your fans , and you’re smiling.” Harry says, his voice cloudy with emotions. “Always smiling. I have no regrets because your life turned out exactly how I wanted. All your wishes came true.” 

Louis stares at him in disbelief, Is that what Harry thinks he wished for? For this? A career? Fame? Money? This. 

“The only thing I regret,” Harry continues, lifting his head to look him right in the eyes. “Is not learning how to stop loving you. I think it cost me my marriage.” He says so nonchalantly, like it’s something they both know and there’s no need to make a big deal about it anymore. “Did you have that same issue, Louis?” He asks. 

Believing you was my biggest mistake. 

“I-I uhm-” Louis voice catches in his sticky throat, “I have to go.” He forces out, “thanks for stopping by, Harry.” 

He shoves his pen into his bag and his glasses, and some random sheets of paper that probably belong to the shop owner. He skips over putting on his jacket and just throws it over his forearm, making a beeline for the door. 

“You’re still a runner.” Harry laughs behind him, his voice filled with surprise. “I thought you would’ve grown out of that by now.” 

Is this running? Is that what Harry thinks this is because in his mind it’s an escape to not break down in front of the person that is the source of all his regrets. 

Louis drops his stuff to the ground, his bag, jacket, everything, and turns around, “what do you expect me to say to that?” He asks frustratedly, “seriously what, Harry?”

“We never…we’ve never spoken about it. I've spent almost two decades revisiting those days, it’s all I ever think about. How did we end up like this, Louis?”

Louis laughs sadly at the ground, “I can’t do this.” He whispers. 

“Why not?” 

Because it hurts. It all still hurts. 19 years and that specific wound is still not fully healed. “I told you everything that day. And since you clearly forgot the details, I chose you.” Louis hisses, remembering his younger self running down the hall just to return back home all alone and more broken than ever before. “That’s how we ended up like this, Harry. You, only you, chose differently. And you don’t even regret it because you somehow believe this,” Louis swings his arms around the cafe wildly, “this is what I wished for? I would have traded in all of this –my life, my career, everything, just to have what I wished for. But you already know that because I-I told you everything that day, so -there’s nothing left for us to talk about.”

“I chose you, Louis.”

Louis rolls his eyes,  “oh fuck off, Harry.” 

“I did.” Harry urges, standing up. “I chose what was best for you, and it wasn’t me. I was barely sober back then and unpacking a bunch of trauma I didn’t know I had. You were dealing with your own shit and on top of that, we were still mad at each other . You may not have voiced your resentment with me that week, but I could see the battle you were having because I was having the same one.  I hurt you a lot during high school, and I couldn’t pretend like I wasn’t equally hurt too. So yes, Louis. I chose you. We weren’t good for each other back then…”

“.... but we are now?” Louis asks incredulously, sensing where Harry is taking this. “Oh my gosh, you seriously believe that?” Louis asks with wide eyes when he truly looks at Harry’s face. “I think you should leave. Next time we see each other we’ll do what we do best and pretend like today didn’t happen.”

“I’m not here to fight with you.” 

Louis takes a step back, “then what the fuck are you here to do!” Louis screams, breaking at the seams. “Tell me.”

“Talk.”

Louis shakes his head, biting his tongue to keep the tears in. 

“Three things.” Harry says desperately, “I want us to tell each other three things, things we never planned to speak aloud. In the end if you want me to leave, I will.”

When Louis says nothing, Harry brightens a tad bit. 

“I’ll go first.” Harry says,  leaning against the table and facing him. “When I was writing my vows for Natalie, I couldn’t come up with a single word. Nothing. So instead of thinking about Natalie, I thought about all the things Anthony should have said to you on yours. His vows were good, but mine were better. So there’s one of my deepest secrets, Louis. Everything you heard me say to Natalie was about you. Your turn.”

Oh-wow-that was not what he was- he’s asking for too much.  

“Your turn.”

Louis just blinks.

“Say something.”  

“I hate New York.” Is all Louis says. One truth. “Your turn.” Louis says, throwing the ball back in his court. 

Harry doesn’t look pleased, but he doesn’t fight him on his answer. “When Lucy was younger, she talked about you all the time, Uncle Louis this and Uncle Louis that. I hated it. Everytime she said your name, it sounded final. Like my chance with you was completely gone, which was stupid because we were both married at this time. But I don’t know, I just didn’t want her saying Uncle Louis to someone that could potentially be her stepfather someday. So I told her to call you Lou Lou instead.”  Harry admits, “your turn.”

Louis turns his head away from Harry, wanting to mask the effects of those words. “I want to switch careers.” Louis says quietly. Another truth. 

Harry’s face remains neutral, but Louis doesn’t miss the clenching of his jaw when he looks back at him. “At the reunion,” Harry begins, his final truth. “When I saw you not wearing your ring, l thought my mind was playing tricks on me. We were both single. Both. I was-fuck, Louis. I was ecstatic. I would’ve asked you out right then and there, but I couldn’t be that selfish when I could see how sad you were. And I understood what you were feeling, divorcing Natalie hurt me too, not because it was love lost, it was something familiar lost. I told myself I’d give you some time, a year at least. But then I read your book, and oh- Lou, have I not made it clear by now? There’s no past with me. My love for you is unchanging. Always in the present.” 

Harry eases off the table and walks over to him, the tips of their feet touching by the time he stops walking. “Your turn.” Harry says challengingly.

Louis lifts his head and meets his eyes, but he keeps his mouth sealed shut. The moment stretches for what feels like hours until the fight slowly slips from Harry’s eyes. 

Harry nods once and steps back. 

He doesn’t look as Harry walks away, but when the bell chimes above the door, Louis looks over his shoulder. 

Silence. 

 “The real reason Anthony left me,” Louis begins quietly, yet loud enough for Harry to hear him. “was because he thought I didn’t love him as much as I loved you.” One truth. 

Louis walks back to the table and sits down in his seat, looking at Harry standing at the doorway. 

“Which was true because If you had stopped me from going back inside to dance with him at my wedding,” Louis laughs at the words brimming to come out, “I would’ve allowed you to. I would have ripped up the papers and ran away with you, all be damned. ” A single hot tear runs down his cheek. A second truth.

Harry shuts the door, and walks to the table. 

“When I had to watch you and Natalie dance to I can’t help falling in love with you, it felt like you were cheating on me.” Louis whispers, scrubbing his eyes before they flood with tears. “Which was ridiculous because you weren’t mine. But that song? That was mine.” He says, voice cracking loudly. “I laid awake that whole night hoping Anthony didn’t touch my pillow because he would feel how soaked it was. He would realize I lied when I told him you didn’t break my heart because you did, Harry. You broke my heart, yet my heart was still yours. All the broken pieces. When I fell for him, I loved you. When I walked down the aisle, I loved you. When I saw you at the reunion, I knew then and there I would never stop loving you. I’m still utterly and completely in love with you.” Louis reveals. A third truth. 

Harry sits down across from him, his own tears streaming down freely.  

And because Louis’ already given away so much, he might as well release another truth. 

“The day my divorce papers were delivered to my house, I was going to call you. Yes, to tell you congratulations on your sobriety, but also to just- talk. Ironically.” Louis sniffles, “I wanted to hear your voice and find out if you still told those stupid puns. I think I needed to know you were still you because at that moment, I didn’t feel like me. I just really really needed my best friend that day, the one who could make me feel better no matter what. Even if his jokes were stupid.” 

“I made a miss steak when I became a vegan.” Harry says, before laughing weakly, his eyes red and filled with relief.  

Louis cracks a small wet smile at that terrible attempt at a joke, and then frowns, reality crashing in of all that was revealed. “You really want us to give it another go?” Louis asks.

“I do.”

“I’m scared , Harry. ”  Louis whispers. 

“Of what?” 

You. 

Me. 

Us. 

“This might not work.” Louis settles on. 

“But what if it does?” Harry asks, “we’ll never know if we don’t try.” 

“But didn’t we try?” Louis asks, his voice hoarse from fighting the threatening tears. “We brought out the worst sides of one another the first time. We were bad , so bad for each other. What if we still are?”

“We’re not.” Harry says immediately, getting up from his chair and walking to Louis’ side of the table, his hand grazing his wet eyelashes. “I think we’re perfect.”

“We’re not.” 

“You can keep pushing me away.” Harry grips his chain, staring right into his eyes. “but this time, I promise I won’t leave without a fight.” 

Louis swallows, “we went too fast last time.” 

“This time we won’t.” Harry says confidently, “we’ll date for months, then meet the parents, I’ll properly introduce you to Lucy, and then you’ll propose, I’ll walk down the aisle, we’ll buy a house, expand our family, then we’ll retire and think about today.” Harry rests his nose against his, a small smile playing on his lips. “The day we didn’t give up on each other again.” 

Louis exhales shakily and removes Harry’s hand from his face to walk to the window at the front of the cafe. He looks at the dark streets in front of him, the roads quiet and sidewalks empty.  

“What’s your biggest fear?” Harry asks. 

Louis looks at him over his shoulder, “losing you again.”

He turns back to the window when Harry starts heading towards him. “That never will happen because I’ve lived life with you and without you, and I don’t plan to go through the latter again. I have another truth to tell you.” Harry’s hands touch his waist, his body stiffening and then relaxing at the touch. “I was offered a promotion six months ago.” Harry whispers, his grip tightening. “My boss was hesitant at first to see me go because of Lucy, but I insisted that I have no problem leaving Los Angeles because my two homes weren’t there. Natalie moved to New Jersey with my first home and my second home was far away, in the big apple, like my new job. I’m here to stay, best friend.” Harry says, and Louis can’t fight it anymore. Harry spins him around and holds him as he cries into his shoulders. Harry whispers I love you I love you I love you over and over again until his words are mushed into nothing but gibberish and tears. 

Louis looks up at him in his grasp, seeing the blurry face of the man he met 37 years ago. He can’t make sense of this, doesn’t want to believe it, but it’s all real. So real. He reaches a hand up tentatively, tracing all the old and the new and the favourite parts of him, his lips feeling just as soft as he remembered. 

“Harry,” Louis breathes before he grips the back of Harry’s neck and presses his lips softly against his.

“Are you cold?” Harry asked, snow covering his eyelashes, “we can stop and go inside.”

“No.” Louis mumbled, kissing him again while snow melted between their lips. He feels the snow, he feels the heat, he feels their hearts. He never wants to stop kissing him, he never wants to lose this. 

Louis did lose it once, but this time he’s not letting go. Never again. He tightens his hold, opening his mouth under Harry, seeking out the coconuts, the lemons, the love. Harry groans into his mouth, pulling their bodies together and kissing him the way Louis’ longed to be kissed again. It’s a kiss filled with many tears, fear, but above all, promise. 

Promise of what’s to come.  

4 years old

 “Wake up, Harry.” His mum nudges him gently. “We’re here.” She says excitedly, pointing at their new house through the window. 

She gets out of the car first and his dad comes to his side of the van, unbuckling him out of his car seat. He reaches for his stuffed rabbit to bring with him, but his father nudges him backwards and slams the van door. “You’re a big boy, Harry. You don’t need baby toys.” His father says angrily before going to the trunk to unpack their stuff.

He stands next to the moving van and eyes the neighbourhood, trying not to cry because he wants his rabbit. He’s a big boy. 

“Anne! Is that you?” 

He turns his head towards the sound and sees his mom run over to another woman, throwing herself into her arms. Both of them hug and laugh, talking so fast that he can’t make sense of any words they’re saying. Harry walks over to them. 

“Oh, who is this?” The woman asks, looking at him with her bright blue eyes. 

Harry moves behind his mother’s legs, hiding himself away. 

His mum laughs, rubbing his head. “This is Harry. Harry says hi.”

Harry rips out of her touch and runs to the moving van, spotting one of his teddy bears sticking out a cardboard box. He grabs it before his father takes this one away from him too.  His mom gives him a scolding look, and he walks back over to her, seeing that she is now standing alone. 

“That was very rude, Harry.”

“Sowwy,” He mumbles, his eyes welling up with tears. 

His mom sighs, crouching down to his level. “That’s okay, sweetie. Look. That’s Jo’s son over there. Do you see him? He’s your age.” His mother points to the garden at the side of his eyes and the first thing he sees is orange. He follows the colour of the shoes, completely in a trance, and then he lifts his head slightly and blinks slowly. 

He’s pretty. 

“What was that, Harry?” His mom asks, her brows furrowed. 

He squeezes the bear to soothe his embarrassment of speaking out loud by mistake. 

“Why don’t you go over and say hi while I help your dad unpack?”

Harry nods and watches his mother leave, but he doesn’t move. He keeps staring, looking at the boy laughing as he chases a butterfly around his garden. 

“Harry, you’re still standing here?”

Harry jumps, and meets his mom's amused stare. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”

His mom takes his hand and walks him to the boy. The woman from earlier walks out of her home at the same time and calls the boy over, “boo, there’s someone I would like you to meet.” 

Harry’s stomach fills with knots.  

He runs over to them looking at his mom first and then at him, his eyes widening. “Hi!” The pretty boy says with the biggest smile Harry has ever seen. 

His mom touches his back. “Harry, say hi.”

Harry squeezes the teddy bear even tighter. 

“He’s a little shy,” He overhears his mom say before she begins laughing with the other woman again. 

The boy doesn’t laugh, he just keeps smiling that same smile. “Hi, Harry. I’m Louis.” Louis says softly, holding out his hand for him to take. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk, I don’t like talking sometimes either. Do you want to play with me?”

Harry takes his hand nervously and nods. 

Louis' smile grows even wider, his cheeks deepening in colour when he looks at their linked hands.  “We’re going to be best friends, Hazza. Forever and ever.” 

“Promise?”  Harry mumbles, holding out his pinky around the bear.

Louis looks at his pinky and then links them. “Promise.” 

~ 

Little did they know that 39 years later they would make some more promises and seal it with matching rings and the brightest smiles the world has ever seen.