The Presidents Son - Larry Stylinson

The Plan

 I walk down the hall, with Liam and Niall behind me

"Louis, I swear, if you aren't nice to him I'm going to... I'll- "

"You'll what, Liam?" I say, teasingly, catching his loss for words easily.

"You'll find out if you aren't nice, he is innocent, you don't even know him and your judging him by his name," Liam points out my earlier words as we continue to walk down the hall.
I walk with ease and confidence, as if I was on a red carpet, ignoring all the screaming fans with a cocky smirk. Liam and Niall walk behind me briskly keeping my pace.

Okay, maybe I am being a bit judgmental... but I don't do well with new people.

I liked my last personal chef. Everyone in the family has a personal chef, and I was friends with my previous one, Zayn, but he quit. I was, upset... and so was he but he said he wanted to pursue a music career.
I've been a bit bitter about Zayn yes, but it feels disrespectful for someone else to be in his place so soon.

I eventually got over him, I wanted him to be happy, and we haven't talked since that day I watched him leave with his bags, leaving the family house grounds forever.

I snap out of my memories when I see the familiar crème colored walls lead to a pair of closed brown doors, leading to the dining room.

I open them and walk into the room, to see my mom

"Hey mum," I greet walking past her into the kitchen

Not the kitchen  where the chefs are but the one with a fridge and water and a few snacks, like chips and lays. They had to scan through them before giving them to us, to protect us from any possible poisons, or something like that. We are like the most protected family in the world it seems.

That's at least what my dad tells me

So they have to make all our food and snacks and so on, resulting in the reason and point of personal chefs.

"Hello Mrs. Tomlinson." Niall greets her politely

"Oh, Niall, what have I told you, call me Anne, please, you're protecting my son, you are practically family." I hear my mom tell him, from in the other room.

"Ahaha, alright Anne," he laughs before following me into the room, Liam giving a nod to her before joining me.

"I'll tell her if you're not nice," Liam threatens.

I stop my search for an old wrinkled man (even though Liam said he's around my age, who can't imagine and old wrinkly man with the name Harry when someone says his named Harry?) named Harry, to look at him, squinting my eyes.

"Really Liam, really" I raise my eyebrows at his pathetic attempt at a threat. That was preschool level right there.

He tries to act intimidating, but his puppy brown eyes and short quiffed hair is not doing any help.

I shake my head at him before walking to the door leading to the kitchen, where I can see the few cooks, working on dinner probably.

I hear Liam sigh as he follows me, letting Niall in beside him.

I walk into the slightly hotter room, and see all the white dressed cooks scurrying around, before one in particular notices me.

"Louis! Hello, how are you? Do you need anything?" Lennard asks, in his French accent.

"Yeah, I'm looking for someone, who is supposed to be my new personal chef?" I say, scanning his face for any sign of recognition.

He dose show recognition.