Sweet Home Mullingar

Chapter 11

CAN SOMEONE DO A PIC FOR THIS BOOK

CAN SOMEONE DO A PIC FOR THIS BOOK

CAN SOMEONE DO A PIC FOR THIS BOOK

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Louis observed the workers scurrying around the area carrying boxes of decorations. A couple of those workers had placed the cushioned chairs at the wrong position and he quickly rushed to rearrange them.

It was a strangely sunny in Mullingar, for once since a few days he could actually feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. The wedding was finally taking place today and they -he-  worked really hard for the past two days at getting the area ready. The wedding location Harry chose was Liam’s villa. The place surrounded by countless blooming flowers and glorious greenery. Louis would have chose the exact location.

The stage where they were going to say their vows stood in the front of the land surrounded by a wall of bright flowers over looking the gargantuan sized mountains. Zayn and Harry only wanted ten guests each but Louis argued and they ended up to a fifty of their closest family and friends from each side.

Harry was going to sing his love ballad to Zayn later on. But that idiotic singer had to make an impromptu trip back to London to get his family for the wedding. Zayn too had last minute business plan to settle. Both would be late afternoon at their hotel.

  

Everything was coming together.

 He can’t believe the wedding is finally going to take place. Less than twelve hours before the wedding.

Louis remembers the first time he met Harry.

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Almost a decade ago

Louis took a sip of his beer, he just finished another rough day at work. He just started his new job at the record company.  He first thought he would immediately be managing famous artists. But all he did was give the checks and made coffee runs for the people who worked for the company.

He was fuddling with his phone when he overheard the microphone in the pub was switched on. This was his place to relax and drink beer. 

“Hello, I’m Harry Styles. And I work in a bakery.”

That voice immediately got Louis’ attention. It sounded so raw and husky it almost made him weak in his knees.

“This is a song called Teenage Dirtbag.”

Louis observed the curly haired kid probably no older than eighteen singing away on the tiny stage. He looked and sounded like a professional. He sounded effortless. Everything about this kid screamed rock star!

When he finished singing he was met with thunderous applause. Louis had to have him. He knew they were probably scouts everywhere in pubs all over London trying to find the next Paul McCartney. This guy was his Paul! As he immediately got off the stage, Louis hopped on to meet the man.