We'll Make it as a Quintette (on hold)

Chapter 2: Management Issues

~ NARRATIVE ~

It has been about a week since Harry herd about the kiss, everything is going normally for Louis and Harry, they go to the recording studio most days with the rest of the boys, Liam, Zayn, and Niall, because, well, it takes a long time to record a whole album. Sometimes they are on talk shows, or have interviews to attend, so every night they all return to their flats, Niall, Liam, and Zayn to their own separate flats and Louis and Harry to their shared one. When Harry and Louis return to their flat every night they cuddle up in bed. Everything is going well until..

~ LOUIS' POV. ~

My phone buzzes in my back pocket,

Modest!: we need to meet with you tonight after you're finished working, be there.

I sigh not wanting to talk to them because they are usually trying to break Harry and I up. When we're done working for the day Harry sets out for the car that usually takes us to our flat while I walk toward a different car that I'll have take me to where Modest! holds our meetings. Harry must've been confused when I didn't turn along with him to head home, and apparently he was confused enough to ask, "Where are you going?" Harry asked turning to face me.

"Got a meeting with Modest!," I sigh, and show him the text message.

"Oh," he says in a sorry tone, "well good luck, don't get into a fight, and I'll see you later," he finishes and winks.

We hug briefly, he places a small kiss on my head, and we turn our different ways, I head toward my meeting and Harry head home.

-

I arrive at my meeting and sit down in a chair in front of a large wooden desk, facing a Modest! representative. My body is very tense because I know that usually when they schedule a meeting like this it's to yell at me because I did something wrong their minds.

"Hello Louis, I see that you've already sat down," the representative says as she looks up from the computer that she had been working at. She turns her swivel chair so her back is to me and she grabs a pice of paper off the top of a stack. I know what that stack is, it's the Larry 'proof' stack. That's another thing that I don't like about Modest!, whenever they refer to Harry and my relationship's proof they put air quotes around the word 'proof' implying that it's not actually proof, but it is, because we're in love. She turns back toward me and slides the paper in my direction. It's a screen shot of my Twitter account, I had changed my bio to "Larry is real" recently, which they changed as soon as was humanly possible. Apparently someone had seen it and taken a screenshot that went viral, "What was this?" she says referring to the picture.

"Rebellion," I say without thinking, my hands race up to my mouth, it was so stupid of me to say that, I REALLY need to learn how to filter what I say.

She stands up, puts both of her hands on her desk, and she leans toward me, towering over me, and making me feel small, smaller than I already felt, "Listen here you little rebel," she says in a harsh tone making me sink further into my chair than I already was, "You better stop, or there will be consequences, go home to your little boyfriend and don't be surprised when you and all your friends are out on the streets." I sit there, they can't do that can they? They can't completely cut off our income from our music, can they? I begin crying, I don't care if they throw me out, but I don't want to be the cause of them throwing out my friends. "Leave," she says in a harsh tone, I notice that I'm still sitting in the chair at her desk, so I get up and leave the building, tears beginning to run down my face.

I get to the car I had arrived in, the chauffeur had been waiting the whole time I was at the meeting, I'm glad that I had been escorted, I'm just really not in the mood for walking or driving myself. The chauffeur gets out of the drivers seat and opens the passenger door for me, I shake my head, open the back passenger door, and get in. I cry the whole ride home, because I really do believe that management will kick me and the boys out, and I kept imagining how much they'd all hate me. The car finally came to stop at mine and Harry's flat and I didn't wait for the chauffeur to come around and open the door, I opened it myself, got out, thanked him, and shut the car door, while still crying. I walk slowly up to the door of our flat and try the doorknob, Harry had looked the door just as I expected. I get out my house key and unlock the door which opens up revealing the living room, I see Harry sitting on the couch watching television, he hears the front door close and looks up, and I look way as quickly as I can because I don't want him to see my tear streaked face and come over and comfort me. I quickly run to my room and lock the door behind me. Neither Harry or I use my room often, I only use it for the exceptionally large closet, but it has a bathroom and a bed, except they are rarely used, like the room. I flop down onto my bed, not bothering to turn on the lights.