Constant Temptation. (Larry Stylinson; Book 1) ON HIATUS UNTIL EXAMS ARE OVER!

Chapter One

Constant Temptation -  Chapter One 

(Louis’s POV)

“You look very handsome Louis! Now stop fussing.” Easy for her to say, she didn’t have to receive harsh treatment all over her body all day. The waxing was where I drew the line.

I couldn’t really blame my mum, she was only stressed, and as she told me repeatedly throughout all of this week: there’s a lot of writing on tonight. I could only think of two reasons why. One was that my father and my mother were having problems marriage wise, and somehow all of my mother’s friends had found out, and now they thought they had to keep up a reputation, thus the long and tedious evening ahead. The second reason would be that my mother was trying to find me a wife. Or a husband, she clearly said. “Times have changed, Louis,” She had told me earlier this week. “If you want to be gay, that’s fine with me. If you want a husband, that’s ok too. It you prefer a penis, that’s fine as well.” I had to stop her there, because the conversation grew uncomfortable. I’d happily talk about it with her any other time, but she was drunk, so I thought: better not.

My four other sister’s (Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe) had received the same treatment as I had today; they just had each other to keep themselves occupied. Who did I have? A flamboyant stylist named Lenard, my mother, my mum’s personal hairdresser and my bodyguard Andrew. I know. My mum paid for three bodyguards in total, one for me, one for Lottie and Fizzy and one for Daisy and Phoebe. The twins are together all the time anyway, and either Lottie or Fizzy are with each other, or with the twins. My mother had an overpowering rational fear that one of us was going to be brutally murdered, and she thought giving us a bodyguard would prevent that. I didn’t mind, must people at school had one, but things were awkward when I was going to meet up with friends. I liked Andrew, but even I had some boundaries.

I looked over to him through the mirror, and found he was looking at me quite amused yet also slightly uncomfortable. I looked back over at my outfit and sighed. I had on slightly tight black trousers, a white shirt, which the collar was black and black braces with a white strip in the centre. Half of the outfit was what I told Lenard I was comfortable with, and half was what my mother forced to put on me. They were now arguing about the shoes.

“I want him to wear dress shoes!” Mum insisted, using her demanding tone.

“It wouldn’t look right with what he’s got on.” Lenard argued back bravely.

“Do I have a say in this?” I joined in, both of them noticing me, from the look on their faces, the first time in a while. I was highly offended. “I mean, considering I’m going to be the one wearing them and all.”

“You need to wear something that you’ll be comfortable dancing in.” My mum thought aloud. I gawped, and put my arms up sassily.

“Hold the phone,” I said dramatically. “You said nothing about dancing!” I whined. Mum rolled her eyes.

“Oh for god’s sake Louis, you’re nearly eighteen; you have to know how to dance.” I huffed and crossed my arms, earning shouts from nearly everyone in the room, startling Andrew from his daydream.

“If I have to dance, I’m not wearing dress shoes. That’s if you’re talking about the leather ones that are slippery inside as well.” Mum huffed at my lack of knowledge for shoes, and moved on.

They finally arranged on denim sneakers with black laces, so dark they could easily be thought of as dress shoes, especially with the dark trousers. Then, I was officially ready, two hours ahead. Once they announced that it was now my mother’s turn, I almost screamed. I mean, I could be out actually socializing, but no. My mum wants me to fall flat on my feet if I try to dance, and to make a fool of myself in front of beautiful girls and handsome men. Quite frankly, I was already dreading the night ahead... once I have a drink, I’ll be fine but still. That’s assuming mum will let me have a drink, for fear of me spilling it on my clothes. She warned me quite aggressively not to lay a finger on my hair tonight; (which I don’t know why she’s focusing on, it’s in my usual style, swept back to one side, and it’s been tortured enough that I literally cannot feel it anymore) otherwise I’ll be in for a world of pain. Those were her exact words as well. I’m not complaining; mum knows perfectly well that if one of her children is going to mess up tonight, it’s probably going to be me. I have a tendency to speak without thinking... I’m trying to work on it. I’m hoping tonight will be good practise as well.