Rivals - L.S.

Seventeen - Talk Shit, Get Hit

It had been two weeks since Louis and Harry became an official couple and they were the talk of every media outlet around. Neither boy really cared though, they were just enjoying their honeymoon phase and loving every second they spent together.

Harry was walking down the street, cappuccino in hand as he took in the morning air with a smile. It was early, but Harry did some of his best thinking when it was early. He had two hours until baseball practice and nothing to do. If it had been any other day, he would've been with Louis but, his blue eyes boyfriend had been called into the stadium early- he had a meeting with Simon and the instructors about his recent performance success (word on the street being that he was getting a raise and an extended contract).

Harry turned the corner, taking a long drink as the sound of cameras clicking overcame him. There was a large crowd of men with cameras, shouting before Harry even registered what was happening.

"Hey faggot! Pose pretty for the cameras!"

One man gave Harry a shove, he dropped his coffee and it splattered across his shoes and the edges of his jeans. Harry gasped and jumped back, colliding with another paparazzo who was stood behind him.

"Watch it!"

The man pushed Harry again.

"Here's a tip, save the backing up for your whore of a boyfriend!" another yelled with a laugh.

"Don't talk about him like that," Harry snapped, turning around to face the man with an angry scowl.

"Ooh, does little Styles get angry when we talk about his ugly little butt buddy? Give us a reaction, do it, you'll pay my mortgage!" the same man grinned, snapping more pictures.

"Tomlinson's a pathetic, sad little alcoholic who got lucky that he can throw a ball! He's nothing but a rich kid with a sob story, that's all he'll ever be!" another shouted out.

That was what set Harry off. He was already furious. They spilled his coffee and ruined his boots. They pushed him like he was nothing and they ridiculed him for sport. They insulted Louis over something they didn't know the truth about, something tragic and terrible and traumatic. And they were making Harry the fool once again.

He wasn't going to be the fool again and he refused to let them do it to Louis either. Not this time.

It was as if a light switch wad turned on within Harry, like the anger and frustration inside him had a mind of it's own. He turned to face the man who was insulting Louis and threw a punch, bringing his fist to the man's face as hard as he could. Harry's knuckles made a crunching noise and he let out a yelp, meanwhile the pap was falling to the ground with blood oozing from his nose. Before Harry could make any other moves, somebody grabbed his arms and began to tug him out of the crowd.

"Don't you ever talk about him like that again!" Harry yelled, not fighting as he was swooped away, "Next time it'll be more than just your nose, asshole!"

His knuckles were undoubtedly broken. He was probably going to be arrested, or sued at the least. His outburst would soon be on every front page of every magazine, on every television and every phone.

And Harry didn't care one bit because he felt amazing.

-

Mark White, that paparazzo who's nose Harry had evidently broken, was trying to press charges for assault and battery. He was telling his embellished sob story to the cops, hoping for a large settlement of Harry's money or a jail sentence that the athlete would be forced to serve. In return, Harry called Mark a bitch and said he refused to give the man one single penny and said he wished he could hit him again.