Louis wasn’t a fan of One Direction.
Really, he wasn’t.
He was only standing in the crowded line, surrounded by excited, and occasionally (or not so occasionally) crying, teenage girls because he was being a good older brother to Lottie.
That was the only reason.
It didn’t have anything to do with his crush on the four handsome pop stars because that would be too gay, even for Louis.
Really, it didn’t and even if his Mum had given him knowing looks as he left the house, her offer of taking Lottie herself being immediately shut down, it didn’t meananything.
Beside him, Lottie shifted her weight from one foot to another, her hands grasping desperately at a Dare to Dream book as if she were afraid she was going to lose it. Louis glanced down at the well worn biography, examining the four familiar faces on the cover. Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan and…Harry Styles.
Louis didn’t have a least favourite — all the boys seemed like decent lads — but if he had to pick out a favourite it would always be Harry. He didn’t know what it was, but something about the curly haired boy made Louis’ stomach flop.
Not that Louis really liked One Direction.
His stomach was just “flopping” out of interest.
Really.
The day was chilly and a bitter wind cut into Louis’ skin and he was glad he had decided to wear a nice thick jumper, unlike some of the girls around him who were wearing revealing outfits that made Louis shiver from just looking at them. All the girls looked absolutely freezing, rubbing their arms in a desperate attempt to heat themselves up, and glaring jealously at the more sane girls who had instead opted for jeans and jackets. Lottie, thankfully, was included in the latter group of girls — Louis’ wasn’t sure his older brother protectiveness could take his teenage sister wearing provocative clothing just yet, even to a One Direction signing.
“Bloody hell, it’s cold,” Lottie hissed, and Louis placed an arm around her, pulling her snugly to his side. His sister pulled away halfheartedly, weakly protesting embarrassment before giving up and leaning in closer, glad for the warmth.
They had been standing in line for a ridiculous length of time, and because of their early start — which was Lottie’s idea, for the record, not Louis’, no matter what Lottie said otherwise — they were very near the front. Thankfully, the crowd was blessedly calm (or as calm as a crowd of One Direction fans could be), mainly because of the reason that the boys had yet to arrive.
Louis could feel his stomach twisting with anticipation.
And his stomach was twisting not because he was going to finally meet One Direction, but because he was…looking forward to getting home.
Yeah, going home.
Okay, so maybe Louis was a fan. It wasn’t bad, he knew plenty of guys who thought One Direction were “okay,” though, admittedly, he didn’t know many, orany, straight guys who thought that Harry Styles was one hundred percent tapable, like he himself did. Then again, Louis wasn’t exactly the most heterosexual of blokes.
It wasn’t even Louis’ fault, this obsession, when it all came down to it. It wasLottie’s. If she hadn’t watched every episode of XFactor that One Direction appeared in (Lottie had taken an instant liking to Liam Payne from his audition) then Louis would be blissfully unaware of their existence.
