Louis wakes up from a coma with no memory on how he ended up there. The only people who know the truth on how he got there are him and the person who put him there.
Or
The one where the innocent boy develops a toxic and unhealthy relationship with a...
"Da-Harry," I quietly giggle to myself at my little slip up.
I hope no one noticed that I almost called Harry, daddy. I'm in a room full of horny, sexually frustrated men, who question their sexuality when around me, so me saying daddy wouldn't be good right now. They'd probably rape me. I don't know if my little hole can handle that much dick at once.
You're probably wondering where in the hell I am, so let me tell you. I'm at Harry's club in the headquarters office. Harry brought me to work with him because I wouldn't stop begging him to let me go out and have fun! I'm not really having that much fun yet because he won't let me go downstairs to the dance floor. I'm already drunk! Why won't he let me go shake my ass on the dance floor?!
"Yes, baby," Harry answered me with clear irritation seeping through his words. He didn't even look at me when he responded. He's over on the other side of the room huddled up and talking to his gang member guys or workers, whatever he calls them, about god knows what.
I've been asking him to go dance every 5 minutes, but he keeps saying 'in just a minute' but a minute turns into a whole fucking hour and the night is almost over! I don't know why he won't let me go! He even has the body guards blocking the door!
"Can I please go dance now?!" I said with an over exaggerated whine.
"No," he said sternly, and once again not bothering to look at me when speaking. How rude!
"Why did you even bring me out?! I could have stayed home and done nothing since that's what I'm doing here!"
No response from him.
"You know what! Fuck this! I'm leaving! Move you big apes!" I exclaimed and marched over to the huge body guards blocking the door, but of course they didn't budge. "As Harry's future wife, or husband, or whatever, I command you to move!"
"Aww he's so cute," one of the guards said to the other one and they both started laughing.
Fine, since I can't go down to the party, I'll bring the party to me.
I walk over to the Bluetooth Dr. Dre speaker while nonchalantly humming a random tune. None of the guys seem to be paying me any mind as I turn on the speaker, and pair my phone to it. Next, I open Spotify and find my favorite song currently to twerk to it's called Cummo, it's the gay remix version of the song Gummo by 6ix9ine. Harry is about to be pissed, but I don't care! He should have let me go downstairs to the dance floor! And I'm drunk as fuck, so I really don't give a fuck! Fuck him! I hate him!
I press play and the most funniest, and gayest song in the world starts blasting through the speakers. All the guys jump with fright from the sudden loud sound and snap their heads in my direction. They all stare right at me when they notice I was the culprit behind this. Perfect, now it's time to put on a show. I start twerking to the beat and singing along to almost every word. I sing almost every word because my pasty white ass can't be saying the 'n word.' Even though I'm drunk, I still have some sense and respect unlike some other mayo colored folk.
I look over my shoulder and see all the guys gawking at my out of control clapping ass. If you're wondering how I learned to twerk, I literally sat at home looking up 'How to Twerk' videos on YouTube because I knew this skill would come in handy one day since Harry loves my ass so much.
I squat down lower, causing my already short dress to ride up and fit tighter around my ass.
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