It's 1967 and Harry is tired of being that little religious boy who everyone makes fun of. Tired of God pretending not to hear him, he decides to take other reins in secret; How bad could it go if he turned to the Devil? How fast would he answer him...
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1986
For a simple cashier in a supermarket in Doncaster, a rather small and rather ghostly town, where everyone knew each other and shared the same beliefs, his life was not so bad.
Every morning he woke up with the damn cock as his alarm, and while his precious grandmother prepared breakfast, he played his favorite song. Sometimes he felt that it wasn't his favorite song anymore, but a part of him. He would keep singing the same verse, repeating it over and over again, and the people who knew him, like his best friend, would pray to God and all the saints out there that that torture would end.
Maybe the rest didn't really understand. That song was the one Louis Tomlinson wanted to dance to, the one he wanted to hear in a situation where he was victorious and another -probably the town's moneylender, to whom he owed quite a bit of money -was left speechless.
But more importantly, it was the only song he could listen to that had nothing religious about it. Lately, the teenagers were more rebellious but, at least where he lived, he was one of the few who didn't pay as much attention to religion. His grandmother agreed, believing that you don't have to live off the church to love God. Louis wasn't very sure that he loved God, and that made him terribly nervous, even at the age of twenty-two. People could be very persuasive.
Lately, he wasn't afraid of God's supposed wrath, and it was all because he wasn't sure if he loved God, but he was attracted to people of his own gender, which, according to the church people in his town, wasn't good at all. He couldn't help it, he was attracted to them, and that was it. He had mentioned it to his grandmother, and she had told him that he was now an adult and that he could do whatever he wanted.
Perhaps it was a punishment for her, or for Louis -he really wasn't sure- but, months later, his little grandmother got a heart condition, and was dependent on medication to continue living in good condition, and for a while longer.
Louis never wanted to have anyone but that woman, someone else to hold him, to lend him money patiently. A miracle, whatever. They didn't always have enough money, he was the only one working and he had to do many other things in the supermarket to be able to buy the medicine and to be able to afford other necessary things.
But lately, everything was really exhausting. He needed sleep, and he couldn't fall asleep at night until the early hours of the morning. He slept four hours every day knowing that sooner or later the fatigue of work and the exhaustion of insomnia would take their toll. Who would take care of his grandmother then? He couldn't let her die.
But Louis made a mistake and a big one.
That day he had woken up three hours after the time he had to go to work. He had never run so fast in his life, and although his grandmother tried to reassure him that he would be alright, he didn't listen. As soon as he opened the door to his house, with fatigue in his beautiful blue eyes and totally disheveled, he found the cause of many of his nightmares.
