O N E
>>November 2nd, 2017<<
>Manhattan, New York <
He sits with his elbows resting on his knees. He keeps his eyes down on the wooden floor, the sounds of heels clicking disturbs his thoughts every so often. He keeps in check the nervous tapping of his own shoes, old worn out vans that continue to shake his leg. He's finally in jeans again, a strange feeling in itself; his hair is nothing to be desired as he literally rolled from the bed and dressed not worrying about something so small. However, seeing as though the woman they gave him as a lawyer sighed when she saw him, Louis wished he would've paid more attention.
Louis could think of nothing else but the hell that had not only happened but the unavoidable shit that was bound to follow. Nothing would be good after this.
Lana Winters crossed her legs with another sigh, her nude heels sport well with her royal blue dress, she wishes she would've brought food; missing breakfast turned out to be a mistake. She only hopes that accepting this case wouldn't the be the verdict.
Lana was different when she accepted cases, she didn't always choose the ones she knew she would win; Lana Liked a challenge. Louis Tomlinson's case, hell yeah that was a challenge.
"You're nervous?" She states more matter-of-factly rather than asking. Louis stills his movements as he glances up to look at her, "I am." He agrees, was this where she would say, "Don't be?" Lana didn't, instead, she nods, "I can tell." As if the remark wasn't already obvious, Louis blushes when he realizes how his actions can reek of anxiety. "Can I go out and smoke?" He asks patting his jean pocket to make sure he had his pack and lighter, "Afraid not, we shouldn't be waiting much longer." With the following words, Lana brings her leather briefcase to her lap patting it gently, "Though once we're in there, you let me do all of the talking."
"What if they ask me a question?"
"Don't answer until I say you can. These Vultures will twist every word you say, I promise." Louis knew, he was no innocent victim to the system; it wasn't long ago he spent a night or two in jail after getting into a fight at the airport.
"Okay." He agrees to the deal, though he's worried everything would still bite him in the ass. Wouldn't not speaking mean he was guilty? Guilty of what exactly, Louis wants to know himself. He knows his charges, he knows the scandal, he knows that his money isn't getting him out of anything; because everything was about to be put on the line because of an accusation.
The said, accused, man lets his eyes slip closed when a man walks to the end of the hall clearing his throat, "They'll see you two now."
Feeling like a murderer on execution day, Louis rises letting Lana take the lead. She walks with her head held high, her strawberry curls laying perfectly on her shoulders, "Hi, I'm Lana Winters, representing my client Louis Tomlinson in the Rape Trial of Harry Styles." There in the middle of the table sat a black recorder, Lana's introduction bringing tears to Louis' eyes as he starts shaking again before taking his seat. He needed to smoke, Louis needed to go home; he wanted nothing to do with this.
"I'm Jon Clark representing my client Harry Styles," He remarks into the air knowingly, Louis shrinks in his seat, his eyes dart from each of the three men in front of him; although he can't help but feel his heart sink when he doesn't see Harry. "Let's get started."
Silence filtered about the room, a long table with eight chairs on each side, only five of them being used. Louis and Lana against the other three lawyers that were dressed in heavy suits, each wearing a dark tie to if not match, enhance the scary aroma they gave off. The room continued to only grow more unsettlingly for Louis as he watches his lap, Lana spoke softly, each time her words short as if she had a piece of glass on her tongue and didn't want to get cut so she spoke as little as possible. Louis was no better picturing that the damn metaphoric cat had finally gotten his tongue for good.
When finally, he receives a pat to his bicep, he glances up meeting Lana's gray eyes, "Mr. Tomlinson if you're comfortable answering this question, you may." He nods, eyes flickering to the man in the middle on the other side, his tie was a deep shade of red, more like maroon, "Did you and Mr. Styles have sexual relations while on the show the X-Factor?" Louis gulps feeling a lump grow in his throat as sweat bubbles in his hair line, he didn't know he was so hot, "Um," The start of a stutter, a clear sign he was guilty, "My client looks uncomfortable." Lana states the obvious, "Because he did it." One man scoffs, "Mr. Scott if you need to take leave of this room and not further harass my client I'd appreciate it." Lana growls, the fake glass on her tongue gone and a fire rising in her eyes.
The man called out rises from his chair adjusting his jacket, "I'll be in the hallway."
Louis shakes his head, he knew, either way, the truth would come out, "Yes." He croaks his throat dry, "Is that a yes to my question about whether or not you and Mr. Styles had sexual relations whilst on the show the X-Factor?"
"Yes."
"What were your ages, when the first action took course?" Lana clears her throat, "The ages are muggy due to birthdays- "
"Not for the first act of sexual activity. My question firmly stated this." Louis bows his head again hearing the man's tone continue to become less appealing and more disgusted. Louis too was disgusted.
"W-we were, I was uh," Another stutter, "I was eighteen, h-he was um, he was sixteen."
"And during those ages what was the first step taken sexually?" Tears finally fall from his eyes coating his cheeks, Lana sighs heavily, "You're making my client upset, I ask that these questions remain directed towards me in which I'll ask my client personally."
"It was a kiss," Louis admits, his lips peel apart as the words fall into his lap. The tears drip from his chin onto his shirt, he feels less than a worthless penny found in a parking lot.
"Did, or did not, the kiss have consent behind it? Consent from both parties?" The man adds narrowing his glare, Louis sniffles raising his head. His eyes glance at the ceiling quickly before shaking his head gently, "I think so." Lana's shoulders involuntarily sag, she knows that wasn't even the best-worst response. That was just the worst.
"You don't know if Mr. Styles consented to a kiss?" Louis shakes his head furrowing his eyebrows, "N-no, It was, uh, it was consent- "
"Mr. Tomlinson you just said- "
"I know what I said! He consented!" Even if the words left his body like a ball did from a pitcher's glove, Louis' tone was still so soft. Glass like, easily broken.
-Bailey Press-
