Cufflinks and Quiffed Hair // L.S.

*1*

*Louis' POV*

"When will you ever stop being an asshole, huh?" I snarled into the phone.

"Hmm...Let's see. Maybe when you stop being a dick?" Harry replied casually.

"I fucking hate you, Styles. I swe-"

"Oops! I gotta go, my next business deal's calling me. Toodles loser, bye!" Harry hung up.

I kept the phone down and slammed the table, frustrated. I ran a hand through my quiffed hair, not caring if it got all messed up. Fucking Styles, how dare he?

Alright, today the Cowell Industries has offered a business deal with Styles' fucking company. But I knew that, that asshole Styles didn't have to specially call me to tell me that?! That asshole got his wish for the first and definitely the last time in his life, okay. I am not even jealous, come on. I am one of the leading businessmen of the time; why would I be jealous of some idiot like Styles and his crawling company when I have a sprinting company?

Anyways, no point in wasting time over some dumbass like Styles.

I picked my phone and clicked on the first contact in my list. He immediately answered the call. I said, "Come in, now."

"On my way, Tommo."

I hung up. My friends really need to learn when to call me 'Tommo' and when 'Sir'.

The door opened and revealed my best friend, who also worked under me in my own company. I spoke with s stern voice, "I swear, you really need to know your manners, Zayn."

The raven-haired guy innocently asked, "What manners, bro?" But he was also smirking.

I had to smile. It was nearly impossible to stay mad at Zayn. "You need to knock before entering my cabin. And don't call me 'Tommo' in office for fucks sake."

"Okay one, I won't be knocking before entering your cabin. I'm your friend now come on; I know everything about you. And two, what do you want me to call you here? Moron? Bitch? Dickhead?"

"'Sir' would do." I said, flatly.

"Mhhm...Kinky." Zayn commented and I looked at him with wide eyes. He began laughing, "Joking dumbo, I'll call you Louis, alright?" I nodded.

"Oh, why did you call me by the ways?" Zayn asked.

My mood again turned sour. Zayn leaned on the wall, his hands inside his jean's pockets, looking at me. I grit my teeth and said, "Styles. That asshole. He called just to boast about how lucky he is to be working with the Cowell Industries, like I care."

Zayn listened on. He knew how much I hate Harold and his company. After all, we've been rivals since day one. "I just hate him so much Zayn. He irritates me to the core. Help me get rid of him from my life."

Zayn looked thoughtful for a while. I wondered what that genius mind would come up with. Zayn then said, "Change your number. He won't be able to contact you then."

Why hadn't I thought about that? I have always hated the fact that he had my number, thanks to his sister who used to work in my company. She was a lovely girl, Gemma, I liked her. She was the better Styles.

Now, she works for her brother. We are still friends despite that. I hate Styles, why should that mean I hate his sister too?

"That's a great idea!" I nearly squealed.

Zayn smirked, "Bro, I always give great ideas. Zayn Malik is known for that. That's the reason I'm your personal assistant."

Even though I knew he was right, I said, "I won't hesitate to remove you from your job, dear Mr. Malik."