Chained for Christmas

Chapter 1: The Album Nobody Saw Coming

Alright, lads," Louis announced, strutting into the studio like he owned the place, which, frankly, he did in spirit. "Christmas album. Nobody's expecting it. It's genius."

The rest of the band exchanged skeptical glances. Niall tilted his chair back, chewing on a candy cane. "Not to rain on your holiday parade, Lou, but who the hell is asking for this?"

"Does it matter?" Harry chimed in, lounging on the couch with an unbothered smirk. "The fans will eat it up. A few sleigh bells, some harmonies, and boom—classic."

Zayn, who had been doodling in the margins of his lyric sheet, muttered, "Just as long as I don't have to wear a Santa hat."

Louis clapped his hands, ignoring the grumbles. "Exactly! That's the spirit! Now, everyone in the booth. We're starting with 'Jingle Bell Rock.' It's got 'iconic' written all over it."

The lads shuffled into the recording booth, Niall and Liam trailing behind the others with matching scowls. As soon as the music started, though, the cracks began to show.

"Liam, you're rushing it!" Niall snapped, lowering his mic.

"I'm not rushing," Liam shot back, clearly annoyed. "You're dragging."

"Dragging? Are you serious? I'm carrying this damn song!"

"Oh, please. If you're carrying anything, it's a bag of excuses."

Harry leaned over to Louis, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Should we step out, or do we charge admission to this domestic drama?"

Zayn snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll sell popcorn. Two quid a bag."

"Would you two stop it?" Louis barked from the control panel, pointing through the glass. "It's 'Jingle Bell Rock,' not 'Battle of the Bands.'"

Niall threw his hands up, nearly yanking the mic out of its stand. "Tell that to Mr. Perfect over here!"

"Perfect?" Liam glared, his voice rising. "Mate, you couldn't hit the right note if it came with a map and bloody GPS coordinates!"

Louis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Harry, remind me why we're not solo artists yet."

"Because we'd miss this circus," Harry deadpanned, sipping from his mug of tea.

Meanwhile, Niall and Liam were still at it.

"Maybe if you spent less time micromanaging and more time singing, we'd be done by now," Niall snapped.

"And maybe if you spent more time listening and less time being a stubborn arse, we wouldn't need thirty takes!" Liam fired back.

Zayn leaned into his mic, deadpan. "Merry Christmas, everyone."

Louis finally hit the intercom button, his patience hanging by a thread. "Oi! Both of you, shut it! We've got a week until Christmas break, and if you don't sort this out, Santa's skipping your houses this year. Now, from the top!"

As the music started again, Niall and Liam exchanged icy glares but begrudgingly sang their parts. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but the rest of the band stayed quiet, exchanging wary glances. It was the first time they'd noticed just how bad things had gotten between the two.

By the end of the session, Louis slumped in his chair, muttering under his breath, "Bloody Christmas album. Whose bright idea was this, anyway?"