After the End: Book 3

60. Stupid Smug

Just wanted to pop in and say that daily updates might be a little slow or even every other day for a few days soon. I'm going into my university finals again for the next few weeks and I am having a hard time editing. I promise not to disappear. I prioritize writing quite a bit, but I also have to sleep lol. Thank you for patience.
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Louis POV

Harry was very famously a mess. It wasn't an appealing mess, but from far away it could look fun. Everyone wanted a piece of him and there was no shortage of people who thought they wanted to work with him. Unfortunately, I regularly found that number dwindling away whenever those very same people actually found themselves in the room with him.

He had been described as unreliable, hard headed, distracted and noncompliant. He didn't often do what he was told and he was likely to pull the entire group off task within minutes, if nobody was watching him carefully.

I was very upfront about all of that as I built him his band for the few performances he was to do. The grouping was partaking in a rather low commitment environment with us, which helped. Harry was going to break the ice with the first performance to announce that everything was coming, we had the potential of two or three album play through release parties and then we were hoping we could get him to do a fundraiser. Anything beyond that wasn't in the contract and would be entirely up to him. I wasn't optimistic that he had big dreams beyond what he was contractually obligated to do. He wasn't even willing to discuss any of the possibilities in the meeting we'd had following his therapy appointment the day prior. It was a bit sad, but it made assembling a team easier. Mitch helped a lot.

As I sat in the rehearsal studio on the same floor as the recording had been done, I took in the set up that Mitch and I had concocted. Mitch himself had agreed to play the guitar for him. He'd invited one of his friends to play the keys and I'd found someone for the bass. The drummer was a girl that Becca knew. None of them had ever played together before, but they all were sitting and listening intently as Mitch and I tried to explain the anomaly of Harry Styles and his lack of professionalism.

"He's very easily distracted," Mitch added to the mix. "If he looks like he isn't paying attention then he likely stopped listening ages ago."

"He'll purposely distract you and then blame you for being off task," I interjected.

"And if nobodies paying attention," Mitch sighed. "He'll leave. You'll just look up and he's gone."

The woman sitting behind the drums shook her head with a quizzical expression. I watched her raise her hand to the sky as if asking permission to speak, the drumstick still in her fingers. "Are we babysitting this guy or something?"

"Something like that," I agreed.

"How are we supposed to get anything done?" She inquired a little tensely. "Does he actually want to be here?"

"He does," Mitch assured her with a smile. "He wants to be here, he just acts like he doesn't."

She nodded like she thought that didn't make much sense. I knew there was no way to actually prepare someone for working with him. He was just an acquired taste.

No sooner had we paused that conversation when I heard the sound of distinct arguing coming up the hall. A moment later, Harry walked into the room followed by his escort, Becca. He wore sweats that might have been mine and the same made in Paris tshirt he'd worn the week prior. He wasn't bothering to cover his arms any more, instead crossing them infront of him as he took in his surroundings. His eyes were tired and his posture was rigid.

He paused in the front near the door, observing the space. The floor was layered in carpets to absorb the noise. The walls were similarly coated in heavy black fabric curtains. I'd had the lights turned off for him and instead the entire place was lit by soft yellow lamp light, like I knew he preferred since his last few major concussions, especially when he was doing poorly. I'd really tried to make it something he didn't hate. I'd even found band members I thought he'd get along with, which was a big deal considering how seriously I lacked options.