A Little Mixed Up || l.s.

Eight - You Have How Many?

Harry was anxious. Extremely anxious. This was the equivalent to going to the showing of a movie he produced with the actors and getting judged on the techniques and the storyline of what the movie consists of. By actual movie critics and other famous stars that go to these events. Even his mum and sister and father sometimes show up. Well. He can count on his sister because she pries in all of his business even though she's up in South Shields and he's in Holmes Chapel and frequently visits London when he needs to go on set. Sometimes even Scotland when they need a more classical view and better architecture for some of the things needing to tape.

His movies are like his babies. But this was an actual baby. A human baby. Something that doesn't make him money, it takes his money. Something that he keeps and helps grow instead of putting it out for the world to see and watch it grow on the charts.

So, really, it's the same thing.

"Harry Styles?"

Harry's head shot up as his name was called and stood up immediately, looking at the lady at the front reception desk.

"Mr. Tomlinson is available for you to head on back. He's through that glass door and on the left, his name will be engraved on one of the wooden doors. You can't miss it." She explained as Harry walked over, smiling up at the male. "Oh and Mr. Styles! I wish you the best of luck."

Harry smiled gratefully and nodded, standing straight and walking through the glass door, looking around as he took slow and careful steps further down the hallway. He'd expect it to be more claustrophobic in here, for some reason. Narrow hallways and large doors that seem overwhelming. Or maybe he was thinking of a haunted house. Either way, they both gave him the same feeling right now. Even if it was fairly open and had light casting in through the large windows and the doors weren't huge, they were in fact rather light in a brown colour as well. Its all very inviting.

Eventually, Harry was able to find the right door with the name he needed to see, only three doors down with two more ahead. Harry took in a deep breath, chest puffed out before he slowly released it again and then just pushed open the door slowly.

"Mr. Tomlins—" he cut himself off when he opened the door the rest of the way and the man standing from his chair actually registered in his brain.

No fucking way.

"Oh, hi! Wee boy!" Louis said with a wide grin. "What a coincidence, innit? Didn't peg you as the type to be open for adoption. I assumed you were here with your wife to follow up on your adoption prior to achieving your family. You look like a family guy already. Guess it suits you."

Shut up. This isn't happening. Holy shit.

"Sit! I don't bite. Promise. This is a safe environment and what happens in here, stays in here until given permission to bring it elsewhere." Louis added and then just sat down in his chair again, offering an arm out to motion to one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

Harry blinked his eyes a bit and then just slowly shut the door behind him. He gulped and with shaky limbs, he was moving to go take a seat in one of the chairs.

"So, your name is Harry Styles. Well, Harry Styles, let's go over your report first, shall we?" Louis spoke and grabbed the clipboard from his desk, taking the papers off of it and setting the clipboard back down. He flicked his eyes over the paper for a moment and hummed. "So you're a single parent, then?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. I uh.. I kind of plan on being a single parent for a while. Not looking for anyone at the moment. Don't want any distractions."

"From raising a child?"

"Well, yes. Of course. And also because uh.. Well, as you can see from the report, I'm a movie producer--director... for some of Hollywood's movies? Its.. Its a hard job sometimes. But it has flexible hours and I could easily take time off. I wouldn't want to travel to California or anywhere else when I have a newborn child." Harry explained easily. As if he rehearsed this a million times in his head in the waiting room.