lostmyhead // larry

before

warning:
-addictive smoking habit
-SERIOUS drug/drinking addiction
-destruction of health
inspired by the events of a movie called "asthma", which is available on netflix. all creative ideaologies are credited to the screenwriter/director/etc., this is my alternate universe twist on it with original characters.

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Harry leaned up against a cold brick column that was placed randomly at the front of the venue, near the stage. Not many people were here and Harry himself doesn't quite remember how he wounded up at the very lowkey and deserted concert. Some local band he has never even fucking heard of was playing horrendus rock and he finds it all too amusing. He really only showed up for the free booze.

The lead singer was dancing on stage drunkenly with a whiskey bottle in his hand and Harry claps because that is so fucking funny in the moment. The other band members are dressed in tacky clothes that look like they've been thrifted or just came out of an 80's target magazine.

Theres an aurora of green, blue, and pink lights emitting from a system and lighting up the walls like the northern lights all the way up in the South pole. Or North pole. Harry contemplates that thought for a bit before catching a captivating human out of the corner of his eye. It seemed to be a boy that is now standing beside him but with about a foot's distance. He had delicate features and sharp cheekbones, and the prettiest set of cerulean eyes Harry has ever seen. The boy could be compared to a deity and Harry looked like a piece of shit trying to be Mick Jagger.

"hey," Harry speaks up with the smuggest look on his face because, he was determined to get in this dude's pant. Hell, he'd even bottom for him; but by the looks of it- and Harry peers his head back just a bit to reassure- this twink has an ass that was crafted by the gods themselves.

The short boy looks up at Harry and then turns his attention back to the band, smiling softly and rolling his eyes. He takes a small sip from his cup and sways a bit to the music.

"oh, so you're not gonna talk to me? okay.. your lost," Harry plays along and smirks, "I was gonna compliment your ass but I guess you're being narcissistic enough," he eggs on trying to get a reaction out of the pretty boy before him. The boy only rolls his eyes harder and then turns around to knee Harry in his gut. He bends over with a "fuck!" and "ouch". Meanwhile, the small boy looks pretty pleased with his response.

"don't stare at my ass, creep. you're not allowed," cerulean-eyed boy shifts his weight to his left hip and crosses one arm over his chest. He sets his drink on the ground and keeps a stern look towards the stage, intrigued by the singer's slurred lyrics and shitty dance moves.

"you're a feisty one aren't you? and who says I can't stare? I'm only appreciating modern art. and you know, I have freedom of speech and shit." Harry fires back and dusts off imaginary lint from his pants. He leans his shoulder back up against the wall and stares at the boy some more.

that comment triggers the boy to fire back, "you don't speak with your eyes, dumbass. even if you did, you clearly have nothing relevant to say to me anyways." and- this motherfucker. This tiny, cute, soft fringe haired bitch. This piece of shit, denim jacket, black vans wearing hoe. Harry feels disrespected.

"hey, why are you being so hostile towards me? what did i do to you? we just met. you could be my potential soulmate and you're retorting back like I just called your mother a whale,"

"because you can't just walk up to me and stare and compliment my ass. I get vibes from people; I know your intentions. my body was not made for your pleasure, you bastard." and yeah, that's enough to make Harry feel bad because that was his intention. Everyone else just falls weak to their knees if Harry simply walks up to them, it was wrong for him to assume this boy would do the same.

"alright, fuck. look I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean it like that. here, let me introduce myself. I'm Harry. Harry Styles. what is yours, cute sir?" He regains some confidence and tries to perfect his flirting game again. To be honest, he has never seen a boy like this one. All sassy and curvacious and dresses like someone from the 90's with a slight modern touch. He has sharp features that could leave multiple cuts and a personality like a raging forest fire yet Harry wants to know more about him. Usually he would move on to the next chick or gullible twink but this one.. This one is making him want to keep coming back for more.

Like Harry is in a drought and this boy is willing to give him one drop of water. That's what it feels like but a lot less painful because Harry will probably enjoy dying, if he's chasing after the boy- and he doesn't even know his name yet. He is already the most intriguing person in the shithole of a venue they're standing in. Everyone else is too worried about their looks and they only talk shit or business or other irrelevent things. They have nothing in their head but the boy before him has a lot to say and looks like he cherishes fine art and would have the meaning of life or something. If that even exists.

He looks like he would be born into a christian family but fuck the priest on Mondays or go look for a sugar daddy even if he's already rich. He probably goes to thousands of museums or even paints minimalistic things, himself. He looks like warm summer nights spent with sand between your toes and smells like a fresh fruit stand. And although his personality has come off like a bitch, he looks like a thousand puzzles waiting to be solved. He also looks like he has no gag reflex, and that's the biggest plus of the night.

"Louis. My name is Louis." He holds his hand out and Harry gladly accepts. He almost has an orgasm on the spot by how soft and warm the interaction was and how his whole hand had engulfed Louis' tiny one.

"well, Louis, I'm glad to have met a dove like you tonight. I'll spare you some shitty to-go pick up lines that I have stored. I have a feeling you'll be dissappointed in them," Harry takes a large gulp from the drink he was still holding and the music turns soft.

"how's everybody doing tonight?" the singer speaks into the mic with a long, slurred voice and the small crowd responds with some whistles and chants. There's only about 40 people in the building so needless to say it's weak.

"glad you're having a good time. I wanna dedicate this song to someone special in the crowd tonight.."

"what a nerd." harry scoffs and chuckles, whispering only to himself and Louis.

"no one knows your name.. but I know your name. This one goes out to you, Louis." the lead singer pulls back from the mic, the music picks up again and almost everyone starts dancing instantly like it was some song played on the radio so often everyone knew except Harry. He awkwardly looks over at Louis who is smiling so bright it could blind someone.

"soo... you and him?" harry looks down at his foot and kicks at the ground out of boredom, not knowing before.

Louis only nods happily and starts swaying back and forth, hands up in the air, dancing to the upbeat love song dedicated to him.

Harry leaves embarrassed and slightly heartbroken that night.

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partially edited