Eight Cakes and Two Eulogies

Chapter 3

FEBRUARY

"Is there anything you really don't want to do?" Louis asked, lazily rolling his head to the side. He felt like he was floating on the ocean, so calm and spacey and happy. He smiled at the lampshape and then giggled, reaching out to pat it like it was a dog.

"No strippers," Zayn decided after a long moment of thought. He raised the spliff to his lips, dragged in a slow breath, held, then released the smoke towards the ceiling. If he was hoping to make smoke rings then he had failed, quite spectacularly.

The three of them, that being Zayn, Louis, and Perrie, were lounging in the couple's livingroom, loose-limbed and lazy from too much dinner, wine, and pot. Louis had been ready to head home after his last glass of Merlot but Perrie had reminded him about Harry's interview being released tonight. Then Zayn had produced his goody bag, dangling it in the air and waggling his eyebrows mischievously. After the long day at work, Louis was well in the mood to relax with a spliff or two so he had sat his arse back down on the sofa. Perrie put on the TV and while the boring part of the program played in the background, he and Zayn discussed the stag party. As the bestman, it fell to Louis to organise it but he wanted to make sure it was something Zayn would enjoy. So he started with the 'absolutely nots'.

"No pub crawls either," Zayn added. "I don't mind going to clubs but pub crawls are boring." He passed the spliff to Perrie, who took one draw and passed it back.

"Of course they're boring to you," Louis chuckled, "you don't sodding drink. But alright, I'll scratch that idea out." Considering drinking and strippers were two of the traditional elements for a Stag Party, he was going to have to pull an absolute miracle to make this event enjoyable for everyone. "By the way, anyone I shouldn't invite?"

"Ol-"

"Hey shh shh!" Perrie flapped her hand and nodded to the TV. "I think he's on."

Louis and Zayn quickly turned their attention to the TV where the female interviewer was gushing through her segue, "... was lucky enough to catch up with the star of the show himself, Mr Harry Styles!"

The scene cut to a beach-side restaurant surrounded by palm trees and envy-inducing views of tropical blue water. "Lucky bastard," Zayn grunted, taking once last hit before passing the spliff to Louis, "that ain't work, that's a fucking holiday."

Louis chuckled as the camera zoomed in on a table and there was Harry... tanned to hell and wearing the most god-awful Caribbean shirt Louis had ever seen. As per usual, he'd only done up the bottom few buttons, which was his classic tits out and proud look, complete with the usual dangling necklace ensemble that he thought made him look proper cool. Louis usually just cooed and patted his head, telling him he looked cute because Harry's pout at being considered something so docile was hilarious. This time, however, something panged hard in his chest and his amusement died on his lips. Harry had barely changed since leaving and Louis was reminded, again, how terribly much he missed him.

"Hello, Harry," the interviewer greeted brightly, "thanks for taking the time to talk to us. I know your schedule is pretty busy."

"No, thank you," replied Harry with his usual slow drawl. His eyes twinkled as he waggled his eyebrows, "you got me out of an afternoon chasing drug dealers through fields of sugar cane. It sounds like fun until you realise it's 32 degrees today - in the shade. So cheers for that," he raised his glass in toast, which was vibrant orange in colour and was crammed full of fruit, straws and umbrellas. Louis's mouth watered at the sight of it.

"Ah," the woman nodded sympathetically, "have you had trouble adjusting to the heat then? Megan and George said they have." Megan and George were Harry's new co-stars if Louis remembered correctly.