the royal family of the music industry

05. Two Ghosts

Harry Styles, 2017

"Louis is here too."

James says and Harry stares at him, blinking a few times. He has to be joking, right?

Harry Styles, in a castle with Louis Tomlinson. On the 28th of September 2017. On their seventh anniversary but the second anniversary since Louis had left.

Why the actual fuck is Louis here?
And why is even Harry here?
What is he supposed to do now?

"Wha-" He is interrupted by the door swinging open, revealing Mick Jagger.

Okay.

What the fuck?!

"Ah, you're here. Nice to meet you, I'm Mick. Right, we know each other, Harry. We sang together, I remember that was fun. You're great. Love your song Kiwi and I'm gonna take a nap now but B wants to talk to you." He says in one breath and yawns afterwards, before walking off as Harry nods dumbly, still in complete shock and unable to from any words.

Louis is here?

Why is Louis here?

Why is Mick Jagger here?

And why is Harry even here?

The questions are repeating themselves because Harry doesn't know anything, it seems.

He lets his eyes wander around the room in front of him.
It's cold, rusty and uninviting. It feels like the walls are echoes of some suffering, awful people that governed here like two hundred years ago.
The embroidered carpet and the stone walls remind Harry of Reign, a netflix show he had binge watched with Niall on a tour break.

There are a few - thrones? - stand on the sides, a layer of dust on some of them. Two are opposite Harry, a long carpet decorating the way that is between them and the door.
They seem like the main ones. Like the ones you see in series about monarchy. The ones of the king and queen.
One of them has a portrait above it, showing a silhouette (not just any silhouette- Michael Jackson) and in front of the other are two people standing and talking with each other.

Beyoncé and Louis Tomlinson.

Harry stares at them and turns to his side to ask James all the questions that are running around in his head but - James is gone.

This bastard left Harry alone in the entry of this giant throne hall with Beyoncé and the person he loved the most in the whole world.

Beyoncé looks over Louis' shoulder and makes eye contact with Harry, a wide smile appearing on her lips, that warms the cold walls of the hall a bit but does nothing for the frozen blood in Harry's veins.

"Harry, you're here." Beyoncé says happily and Harry sees Louis back stiffen immediately at the mention of his name.

Harry forces a smile on his face and steps forward hesitantly, walking up to the pair, his head spinning, his heart beating unhealthily fast, his fingers shaking a bit. He hadn't seen him since that night, nor had he talked to him.
He had only listened to his voice in his head every night and every day. Had seen him in every framed picture hanging on the walls in that goddamn quiet house.
Had seen his face in his daydreams and real dreams, only to wake up crying, hugging pillows and hoodies because he couldn't fall asleep alone anymore.

Harry is not ready for that encounter yet.

Louis seems to wake up from his spontaneous coma and turns around slowly.

When his eyes meet Harry - blue meeting green - Harry's breath stops in his throat, the blood that was just frozen is boiling now, his fingers are shaking more, a shiver runs down his spine and his pulse is at an incredible and probably even dangerous rate.