Your Name is Tattooed on my Heart || L.S

Chapter Eight

Louis had been pleasantly surprised when they’d arrived at The Ivy. If he was destined to have an awkward evening, at least it would be at one of his favourite restaurants. He was further mollified when Greg led him upstairs to a private room with an open bar, a baby grand piano in the corner, elegant flower arrangements, and best of all, multiple tables. They greeted Laura first, finding her already flushed and giggly from white wine, before heading to the bar themselves. Drinks in hand, they looked for their place cards. He was relieved by the arranged seating; for all of Greg’s assurance that they were on good terms, Louis didn’t relish the thought of encountering Greg’s ex-girlfriend.

He scanned the room, wondering if she was already there, and if she knew that Greg dated men. He wondered how many of the people in this room knew that Louis was Greg’s date; if Greg would introduce him as a “friend”. He wanted to take out his phone and text Harry random nonsense to distract himself, but he didn’t want to be rude.

“You alright?” Greg asked him.

“Yeah, fine,” Louis said, forcing a smile. “Sorry, yeah. Bit warm. Might take off my jacket.”

He stood to shrug out of it, and Greg helped him remove it and hung it on the back of Louis’ chair. “You look fit in a suit, by the way.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Louis said. “Will I embarrass you if I roll up my sleeves?”

“By all means,” Greg said.

Another couple joined them at the table, a very pregnant DJ whose name Louis vaguely recognised, and her husband. As the room filled and the drinks flowed, Louis was honestly enjoying himself. Everyone at the table was about a decade older than him, but they were a lively and interesting group. The DJ, Fearne, brought up Louis’ trip to the radio station, saying there’d been a buzz on twitter about how funny he’d been.

“You’re just saying that to be nice,” Louis said.

“I’m dead serious! See for yourself,” Fearne said, taking out her phone. She pulled up the Radio One twitter mentions and scrolled until she found a tweet. “See, look!”

Sure enough, right there on the screen:

Anyi @angiewitha_y:

Louis T is so funny & FIT!! Put up more pics PLEASE @gregjames! He & @grimmers need to do a show together. I'd die!!! #DreamTeam @BBCR1

“Grimmers, Grimmy,” Greg explained. “Nick.”

“Oh god, not sure I’d survive that, myself,” Louis joked.

Fearne laughed and started typing on her phone. “Speaking of, where is that little prat? He swore me he’d be here by nine.”

A roar kicked up on the far side of the room, and she looked over her shoulder and said, “Speak of the devil!”

There was Nick, followed by a small entourage, and this time Louis recognised most of them. It was the twins, Lou and Sam, Tom, Caroline, two guys that Louis didn't recognise… and Harry. He looked ridiculously handsome suited and booted, like he’d just stepped off of a high fashion runway. He wore a dark blue suit and a crisp white shirt, perfectly tailored to his build, and Louis could hardly reconcile this Harry with the punk rocker in torn blue jeans.

After kissing Laura hello, the group began to make their way to a table across the room, when Fearne called out, “Don’t make the preggo come all the way to you, you arse!”

“There’s the little mummy!” Nick called back, making his way over with the group trailing him. Louis’ gaze stayed locked on Harry, and the way Harry’s eyes widened when he spotted him let him know that he was equally shocked at this turn of events. Nick seemed amused to see Louis, saying, “Well, if it isn’t our new student correspondent, looking rather dashing all dolled up. What are you doing sitting with these boring old sods? You’d have much more fun at the kids' table with me.”