The Sculpture and The Sculptured (l.s)

one

Louis sighs as the butler fastens his vest, and holds his coat open for him to put on. The young man waves his hand before taking it, and draping it over his forearm. He grabs his top hat, and places it firmly but consciously as to not ruin his hair. Without a word, he leaves his room and walks through the house to the entertainment room. The floors didn't creak like old homes usually do, but the small heels of his shoes click on the thick wood to announce his entrance. The windows are open to let in a cool breeze on the usually bright-weathered day, and the sheers blow gently in the wind. Standing by the windows are two men: one being Louis' father, and another being an old business partner.

Both are centered amongst the furniture, standing close but respectfully distanced, and his father looks in his direction. The small conversation stops, and Louis bows slightly.

"Good morning." He welcomes. "I apologize for being so late. I'm usually timely."

His father's scrutinizing eye makes him nervous, but he ignores it as their guest smiles and approaches Louis to shake his hand. Louis firmly grips the soft skinned hand in his own, shaking it lightly but strictly. They give each other surface-level smiles, and Louis lets his hand go.

"Not at all." The man says. "I haven't been waiting long, and your father kept me good company while you got ready."

"That's good to hear." Louis nods.

His father clears his throat as the maid brings in tea, and sits it on the table in front of the chairs. "Let's sit, and discuss the matters you're here for. I imagine that you're awfully busy, Mr. Payne."

"I'm never to busy to spend time with my best clients." He says, and all three take their respective seats. Mr. Payne, father of Liam Payne and a reputable lawyer well known amongst the upper middle class and aristocrats, is a man nearing retirement. He's looking to leave his firm to his son, a young man making way in his own right, and he's recently taken up art as a hobby. "I'm here to hopefully help you enter the next step of higher class."

He motions for his butler to step forward from the corner, and the man unravels a few pieces of paper to set on the table.

"Excuse me." Mr. Payne mumbles. "I know this table isn't for papers."

"I think we're pretty comfortable, Mr. Payne." Louis' father says with a tight grin without a glance down, but Louis looks and his mouth opens slightly in wonder. The drawings are all different: a portrait of two children, a landscape of a beautiful river side, and another landscape of the bustling market in the city. "The arts are truly not my specialty. I'm not a romanticist so these paintings don't suit me."

"They may not suit you," Mr. Payne agrees but gives Louis a knowing look as the young man stares in amazement at the drawings, "but I think someone's developed an eye for it."

Louis gazes up, and sits back from the table. He clears his throat, and blushes slightly as his father stares sternly at him. He looks away in slight shame, but Mr. Payne chuckles.

"This is work of an apprentice under my painter." The lawyer explains, and motions for his butler to collect the drawings. "The boy is more interested in sculpting rather than painting, but he's got a talent and scholarly as well."

"What would I gain from sculptures?" Mr. Tomlinson sips his tea as he uses a polite tone for a rather bemused question. "My wife enjoys those bird statues, not me."

Mr. Payne hums, and looks at the two from over the brim of his cup. "You'll be sorry to not take this opportunity. At least commission him to see his talent. If you are not satisfied, I will reimburse you."

Louis' father is quiet, and the sixteen-year-old feels his hands begin to sweat. He sees the thoughts racing through his father's head, and steals a look at Mr. Payne. The lawyer, too, sees the contemplation and his eyes light up in excitement— like a lion finding its prey.