Putting on a Show (L.S)

Chapter 3

"Hey Simon, how've you been?" He asks, making his way over to the table, not even sparing me or Simon a glance, instead he's gone to staring at the table.

"Great, Harry, thanks for asking. Take a seat."

He nods, moving to the other side of me and Simon, taking a seat directly across from me.

"Well, Harry. This is Louis, and from what I know about him he's quite prefect for the job. So, I'm going to have him read over the contract, and if he's okay with it, he'll sign and you'll both be on your merry way."

We both nod, and Simon slides over the folder he had in front of him, the pen resting on top of the papers. "So, if you will, you'll only hand me the papers you sign. The others will be yours, as it has a schedule and rules. You can't lose them."

I nod again, beginning to read at the papers I need to sign.

The contract states that for six months, at least, unless something quite big takes place, I am to be Harry's "partner."

I have to go out on "dates," with him, be seen in the same locations as him, attend certain events. That's the simple terms of it anyway.

It seems like a bit much, but I ultimately sign the papers after seeing the pay for it.

Simon takes the ones I signed from me with that strange smile on his face, and I keep the rest of the papers in the folder.

"Well then, I hope you and Harry are good to get along. I'll leave you two here, as you will have to get pictures taken with him this afternoon. Paparazzi is always on the lookout for Harry. You're welcome to go home afterwards. Make sure you read all of the rules, so that there aren't any complications."

He leaves without another word, not even speaking to Harry, which I find amusing.

"So, Lewis-"

"It's Louis," I say, correcting him as I begin reading the rules to myself.

"Oh, uhm, sorry. Louis, I'm Harry."

I roll my eyes, "Believe me, I know who you are. Famous singer and songwriter, the face of the music industry- well, besides ZAYN. You're all over magazines, I'd know your face anywhere."

"So you're like obsessed with me?" He asks, sounding amused.

I laugh, "No, it's quite the opposite, really. Nice try though, love."

"Quick with the names, then?"

I look up at him, scowling at the small grin on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. He's staring at me like I'm a piece of meat, like I'm going to be worshiping him or something.

"No," I mutter, returning my attention to the folder in my hands.

"Well it's only fair I have one for you, so, how about- I think I'm using baby. That seems right, considering how tiny you look from over here."

"Give me a break, I'm big. You're just freakishly tall. And, also, that's a strange and quite weird reason to give me that name, which I won't be answering to, by the way."

He laughs, "Fine, I've still got to come up with one, though."

I scoff, stopping my reading mid sentence, "You're telling me I have to basically hang out with you all the time? This is stupid."

He stands from his chair, "Well I have a concert tonight, you should come."

"No, I don't think I will," I mumble, closing the folder and standing as well.

"Why not? They're fun. Surely I could get you backstage, I mean, it is my concert."

"I think you're music sucks, Harry, that's why. It annoys me. So thanks for nothing on that."