love me until i love myself / l.s

39

Finding yourself at a gala is weird, Harry for once never imagined that this would happen. All of a sudden, he was in that fancy room with a fancy outfit and fancy people, who spoke in fancy, rich and pretentious words, that Harry did not get.

All of this made him so out of place and so overwhelmed. It felt like everyone knew about his profession and judged him with their stares. It felt like they were gonna skin Harry alive or something similar to torture.

The worst part of it all was that Louis was off somewhere probably talking to some businessmen and Harry was left all alone to deal with the pretentious and uncomfortable stares. Even Eleanor was missing and maybe he did not like her, but he would feel much better if a familiar person was there by his side.

However, it felt weird that the three of them had arrived at this event on the same car. Harry was not sure if people knew his and Louis relationship or whatever that was, but he didnt wanna know. Maybe it would make him feel even more uncomfortable.

It wasn't until then that he realized that a lot of stares and even whispers were directed at him, throwing innuendoes about Harrys easiness to open his legs, as they exactly worded it.

Fuck. Fuck. Harry wasnt made for this, okay? Harry was never supposed to meddle with Louis and his social status. The pants of the red floral suit he was wearing felt strange clamped around his thighs and the collar of his white shirt beneath his matching jacket was too tight around his neck and he was in desperate need of fresh air.

His eyes scanned for Louis to at least inform him that he was going out for a while, but why would Louis even fucking care at this point? Harry was so pathetic. Being foolishly in love with a man, whose a huge part of his career was based on his social and business relationships.

He wished he was even at least a bit like Eleanor, who was standing in her elegant blue royal dress, a delicate hand throwing her hair behind her back, making her look more expensive than the fucking Queen of England. Eleanor was a woman, who could stand next to Louis at events like this and not embarrass him or make him look bad.

The most unfair part about this whole situation, though, was that everyone seemed to blame Harry for this. It was as much his fault as it was Louis. Apparently, Louis was easy to influence and Harry was the one, who dragged him into this with his stripper skills and maybe thats the biggest pile of bullshit he had ever heard.

Fuck their pretentious stares and rude personalities. Money couldnt buy class and even though Harry did not know any big fancy words or hadnt traveled the world as much as they did, he still managed to stay classy. Even when he was stripping in front of half of the men they were here tonight.

Its funny, isnt? How those men and their wives were talking shit about him behind his back, when not only a month ago they were drooling over his ass. Pretentious and hypocrites, thats what they were.

He desperately needed some fresh air, though, so he slipped out of the ball room, as quietly as he could, trying to make sure nobody would see him. Impossible.

Once he was finally outside, he took a few deep breaths, feeling his chest heaving and gasped for some fresh air. He run a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. Fuck, he wanted to cry and he didnt even understand why. He wanted to fucking leave. He wanted to leave so fucking much. This was such a shit situation. He sat down on the lawn not even giving a fucking damn that this was a Gucci suit or whatever. He didnt even realize that hot tears were streaming down his face until a small hiccup escaped his trembling lips.

Fucking shit. Harry wasn't cut out for this shit and fuck, him and Louis haven't even spent proper time together since forever and Harry missed him. It wasn't even sexually anymore. He just missed his presence, his words, his touch, his kiss, his everything.

''Harry, are you okay?'' Louis asked, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and the younger man turned to look at his blue eyes.

''Oh, no, no, baby, why are you crying? Did someone tell you something?'' Louis asked, worried and Harry was so sick of Louis treating him like a fragile baby every time he was outside with people from Louis' job. Fuck them and fuck Louis, who brought him here.

''I am not made for this shit, Louis. I don't like fancy shit like this or these people. They all suck and they are so mean.'' Harry said and Louis frowned.

''Well, this is my world. It's not like I can do something about it, about them.'' Louis told him and Harry wiped his eyes aggressively, getting up and he run his hands over his thighs.

''You didn't have to bring me here. You didn't even fucking warn me that everyone in there knows that I'm just your cheap slut. You should have told me that everyone in there is disgusted by me.'' Harry said louder this time, not being able to cover up how upset he was anymore. Louis walked closer to him, ready to touch him again, probably to give him a hug or to comfort him, but he took a few steps back, shaking his head.

''No, you don't get to do this. You just make me feel humiliated and then you try to make me feel better. Fucking hell, you brought me here for no fucking reason and I feel like I'm in sixth grade again.'' Harry said, looking at the sky, trying to hold back his tears. Fuck, he was pathetic. This whole situation was pathetic.

''Harry, can you please act rational for a second? Why the hell are you acting so fucking crazy?'' Louis asked and Harry bit lightly at the back of his hand, trying to hold back a scream that was bubbling in his throat. Everyone thinks he's childish and he's dumb to act all proper educated because he's a stripper, but fucking crazy?

''Now I am crazy? Fucking shit, now I am just a crazy person to you, huh? You bring me here and people have been talking shit about me for hours and you fucking disappear and you come here calling me crazy? I expected everything from you, but calling me crazy because I always feel like a fucking outsider was not one of them.'' Harry said, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He's so fucking tired of feeling like he's fucking crazy. Fuck.

''Like a fucking outsider? I've spend every awake minute that I have with you for weeks! You? A fucking outsider? Everyone else in here is an outsider except for you. Nobody talks to me the way you do or is treated the way I treat you. I've never done shit for you that I haven't done for anyone else and you still think that I want to hurt you or want to humiliate you. I thought you were having fun and now, you are just lashing out on me like that. I'm sorry that my life and the people around me don't entertain you like your other friends do. And you know what? At the end of the day, it's not like we're together or in love. If you wanna go, then the door is so fucking wide open.'' Louis told him and Harry opened his mouth, but he couldn't even form the words, because Louis was right.

If he didn't like the way Louis treated him and felt like he was humiliated or an outsider, he could just go. That was their deal and Louis just reminded him of it.

''Fine. Fucking fine.'' he sighed and he took a few steps back, taking off the expensive, pretentious, red Gucci suit and he let it drop on the ground.

''What the fuck are you doing?'' Louis called out, seeing Harry unbuttoning his pants and stepped out of them, staying in the black pair of boxers. He took off his shirt and threw it on the ground, staying in a thin black T-Shirt and took off his loafers, letting them on the ground along with the rest of his clothes.

''Are you fucking okay? What the hell are you doing?'' Louis asked again.

''Acting fucking crazy. See ya later!'' Harry said, turning around and walking out of whatever fucking mansion that was.