Larry fics

Affected

„Every band has to have an ugly member."

„Louis Tomlinson."

Louis knows he shouldn't be affected by what people on the internet are saying. He knows he shouldn't be looking up his name on google and read articles and posts and tweets about himself. He knows that Harry made that mistake back in 2011 and had his all time low because of that, but he can't help it. He wants to know what people think of him, it's not his fault. Being famous is way too hard and he sometimes wonders what things would be like if he wouldn't be famous. But then he thinks of Harry.

Oh, his sweet Harry.

It's ridiculous because Harry is his boyfriend and Louis should be able to go to him whenever there is something bothering him and worrying his this much, but Louis doesn't want to bother Harry. He doesn't want him to know that Louis had googled himself because he knows Harry wouldn't appreciate it. And he doesn't want to disappoint Harry like that. He knows that Harry would cooe him through it and kiss away the bad feeling, but he also knows that the bad feeling would come back and he can't keep bothering Harry with that.

So, there he is, sitting on his hotel bed with his laptop propped up on his lap. He's scrolling through some posts on twitter that are about him and he feels his stomach clench each time he reads something that's way too rude and mean. He stares at each tweet for way too long and finds his fingers fidgeting with the covers that he's sitting on. He feels sick. He knows that there are a lot of wonderful people out there that support him and that appreciate him for everything that he is, but right now he can only find himself focusing on the negative feedback. Louis gulps and furrows his eyebrows together. He's way too tired.

They have just finished a show in LA and he really should be getting some sleep because they have a long day tomorrow filled with interviews and meetings and such, so he really should be resting. But his eyes are glued on the laptop screen, scrolling through the mean tweets while his teeth are gnawing harshly on the skin of his bottom lip. He doesn't know why he's doing this. Maybe because he's always looking for approval from everyone and when you're famous, that isn't a possibility.

He takes in a deep breath and eventually, when the clock shows 3:37 a.m, he manages to close the laptop and put it aside. He stares at his toes with furrowed eyebrows and shakes his head a little bit in disbelief. Is he really everything that those people are saying? Is he really ugly with no talent and a body that's not anywhere near being fit or beautiful? Swallowing thickly, he rubs his hands over his eyes and lays down on themattress, tugging the sheets over his body. He feels like going down the hall to Harry's room, but he knows he can't. He's not allowed.

***

The next morning, he doesn't want to wake up. He feels icky and groggy and he really wants to hit Max, one of their managers who comes in the door and shakes his shoulder to wake him up.

"Louis, it's time to wake up. We have a interview in an hour and you gotta get ready. Lou is going to do your hair in her room, so go there." Max says and waits until he can see Louis opening his eyes and give him a small nod before he leaves the room.

Louis rolls over in the bed and stares up at the ceiling with a soft sigh. He really hates being famous sometimes. He hates having to wake up this early and hates having to get ready. He hates ready all those rude tweets about him. At that, he remembers everything he read last night and winces under his breath at the memory. He really should stop making stupid decisions. Sighing, he sits up and ruffles his hair that has way too much hairspray in it from last night and he figures he should catch a shower before he lets Lou touch his hair. He knows she doesn't appreciate working with dirty, second-day hair.

He bites his lip and gets out of bed before making his way into the bathroom. He closes and locks the door after himself because even though he is in a hotel room, he knows anyone can walk in because their managers have the key card to each of their rooms. It's just a thing to 'keep them safe'. He sighs and tugs off the shirt he's wearing - it's Harry's, one that he borrowed just two nights ago and it has stupid holes in it, but he doesn't mind - before he's dropping his boxers as well and stepping into the shower.