That's Just Publicity

Talk to me Haz

A/N: Enjoy :)

Louis' POV:

As we pulled up to the party, the lads and I were absolutely buzzing. Even Harry, who'd been fucking pissy all week, was high energy. Things between us were getting so awkward and distant that my patience for his shit was running real thin.

We walked into the party together, my eyes jumping from the DJ mixing absolutely sick beats in the corner, to the giant color changing disco ball hanging in the middle of the room. There was glitter and feathers and tinsel all over the place, sticking to people's bodies as they danced themselves to a sweat.

The deeper we walked in, the more absorbed we got, melting into the crowd like we barely existed. The best thing about these parties was that we were almost always either just as important as everyone else or even less so, and everybody treated us like we were nameless. I'm sure that sounds undesirable, but after hours and hours of being constantly regarded and noticed and fawned over, blending into a sea of equally influential people was like a fucking weight off.

I glanced to my side and noticed Harry was gone, and my eyes followed the gap in the crowd to the corner, where Harry was already busy with some random girl. I rolled my eyes, the sight causing an irrational amount of anger.

These days, he's either out partying and drinking, stumbling into our hotel rooms with one girl or the other, and walking around like everyone wanted his dick, or he's acting all innocent and glum and all fucking debby downer. He was all sorts of bipolar and weird, especially now. Last tour, we were younger, and he was a complete sweetheart who never gave a damn what anyone thought of him. He was so care free, and giggly, and fun.

It made my feelings about him so confusing. I wanted so badly to hate him, to punch him in the mouth for his erratic and posh boy behavior, but every time I looked at him I saw the eyes of that Harry from the X-factor house, who talked about music and footie and his family for hours. He was still my best friend, the person who understood me more than anyone, but here he was ditching me the quickest chance he can get to go lust over whoever lets him.

I knocked a shot back as Liam and Niall cheered on either side of me. Zayn was off talking to some girl I kind of recognized, Perrie? Maybe? He seemed real interested in her, only it didn't bug me as much as Harry and his girl in the other corner of the room. My mouth tasted horrible, both from vodka and the sight of Harry with his tongue down that girls mouth.

Me and the other lads joined the crowd of people dancing, that same DJ still going crazy, and danced and danced and danced. I made myself so dizzy with the mix of jumping and screaming and drinking and all I needed was a cig. I clawed my way through the crowd, trying desperately to find some fresh air. I had a pack in my pocket, and reached for it as I found a door.

The door led to a hallway that had a bay window at the end of it, only lit up by the city lights peering through the glass. I slumped down, sighing with relief as I pushed the window open. The sounds of the city drowned out the rest of the party, the DJ's music only heard in the very back of my mind as cars and horns and wind took over.

I grabbed a cigarette out of the pack, putting it to my lips as I fished around for my lighter. I groaned as I realized I didn't in fact have a lighter. I was stuck out here, desperate for a smoke, in the most perfect smoke spot, with no fucking lighter. My limbs felt like jello too, every urge in me to get up and look for a lighter drowned out by the alcohol swimming through my bones.

I laid back, lifeless, the cig still between my lips.

I didn't even hear the door, or the footsteps, until a flash of dim orange light was shoved right in front of my face. When my cig was lit I took a long drag, sobering. It was Harry, his face shadowed and unrecognizable, but I could sense him, smell him, hear him.