The Devil Wears GUCCI || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 8.

One memory Louis treasures with happiness is his first concert.

He had travelled with his classmates to Armthorpe, a town a few miles from Doncaster. Foo Fighters was one of his favourite bands and they were performing with their latest album.

That day, he made out with a hot unknown boy during This Will Be Our Year. He got his number on a crumpled piece of paper along with a kiss on the cheek at the end of the show, which slipped out of his hands as he headed for the exit and had to walk through the sea of people.

Louis never saw that boy again, but that kiss along with the adrenaline of being crushed by the security bars, the excitement and the screaming fans, were memories he would never forget. He can still remember the exact sensation of sweat running down his body and the throbbing of his aching feet. He remembers how his torn throat wouldn't give out, thanks to that connection with the strangers around him and the togetherness of everyone singing as one voice with the vocalist.

The ecstasy he felt listening to Everlong live is something he always relives every time he plays the song.

Today, however, the effect is not the same.

When the song plays loudly in his bedroom, all Louis wants with all his might is for Dave Grohl's voice to shut up for good and let him sleep on.

Regretting having switched from Abba, he tries to adjust his eyes to the lack of light. The task becomes futile and with his right hand he fumbles with the table next to him, letting out a sigh of relief when he finds his glasses easily. He waits until his eyes get used to the light to see the name of the contact.

He grunts when he sees that it is an unknown number.

The only people who called him were his mother, his friends and occasionally the annoying bill collectors. He'd paid all his bills right away so he wouldn't have to worry about them until next month, so he has no idea who the hell could be calling if it's none of them.

Louis accepts the call anyway, just in case it's an emergency.

"Who is this?" He answers curtly, still half asleep.

"First of all, good morning."

His bleary eyes widen, "Liam?" Louis clears his throat, in an attempt to keep his voice from coming out so watery.

"Yes, it's me," Liam confirms and it's possible to sense his hostility through the phone, "God, what a lack of manners.

"It was an unknown number, you could be a criminal," Louis rubs a fist against his eyes as he lets out a yawn. His face still resting on the soft surface, "Besides, morning? The sun's not even up yet."

"So you're not a morning person," Liam chirps, the background filled by a female voice faintly heard in the distance, "I should have known from your lack of punctuality."

"Hey," Louis lifts up on his forearm, frowning at the accusation. He hears a choked pant, "It's still a long way before curfew, why are you even up this early, what's wrong with you?"

Liam pauses for air, "Louis," he pants, "It's five in the morning."

"That's way too early," Louis groans and buries his face in his pillow. He hears over his mobile phone speaker a groan, followed by a low curse, "What was that?" his face lifts and his eyebrows furrow, "And why do you sound so agitated? What the hell are you...?" Realisation dawns, "Oh my god!" Louis gasps into his hand, "Are you having morning activities while you're talking to me?"

"No, dumb-" Liam barely manages to say. Louis can tell he's trying to catch his breath, "I just finished my yoga class." He explains when his breathing is calmer, "The voice was my instructor's, she does YouTube videos."