fireproof {l.s}

chapter one

Thursday, July 25th, 2013

8:06 a.m

Harry

I swung the glass door open, staring at the floor. The conference room smelled of ironed suits and cologne. The smell intensified as I felt a burning presence in front of me.

"Harry."

I looked up at the voice. Simon Cowell's eyes stared into my soul with such rage that I thought he was about to throw me against the wall, right there. For one second, I didn't know why my manager was about to murder me. I looked down at my watch. Then, I knew.

8:07.

I was 7 minutes late. That's it. I knew I shouldn't be surprised that Simon was disgusted with me. When was he not? I was late at least twice a week.

"You do realize that's the third time this week, right?" I felt his breath as it travelled into my face. He couldn't have been standing more than an inch away from me. His breath smelled of alcohol and must. I looked down and took a small step backwards. "I can't accept this. That's it. Harry, look at me,"

I swallowed my embarrassment and slowly met his eyes.

"I'm so done with your bullshit, Harry. You're late more than all of the lads combined and I just can't allow that. Just turn around and go home. You're not recording today," Simon yelled with a perfect mix of rage and disappointment.

"But-" I started.

"Save it. Get out, Harry. You can come back tomorrow when you feel like acting a goddamn 19 year old,"

With that, I looked at my four best lads. They immediately ducked their heads, not making eye contact. I desperately scanned the room for anyone who could help, with no luck. Finally, I let out a deep sigh and turned around, heading out the door and back out into the parking lot. I could feel tears forming in the inner corners of my deep green eyes. Turning the corner, I leaned against the brick wall of the studio. As more and more tears rushed out, I slid down the wall. My eyes were soon covered with my palms. I pressed so deeply that I could see the colorful lines and shapes floating around inside my eyelids. I focused on them as they swirled around.

No one knew why I was always late. No one ever asked. They just yelled. Everytime I showed up to the studio, a couple minutes past the meeting time, I prepared myself for the long lectures from our management team. But they've never sent me out. Until today.

Everytime my bandmates were late and got yelled at, they made sarcastic, sassy remarks back to them. Niall made excuses that were always so random and unbelievable. No one ever questioned him, though because the joy on his face was hard to break. Liam would just give a half-hearted apology and then flip them off as soon as they turned their back, laughing. Zayn loved to yell and get into heated arguments with whoever confronted him about his behavior. I think it was fun for him. And of course there was Louis. Louis was the most mouthy and bold. He'd find some way to turn the conversation into a personal attack on the management. I loved the way he smiled as they walked away, usually blushing in embarrassment. He had such confidence, I could only pray for.

Then there was me. I've never confronted anyone. I couldn't. I admired my bandmates' brassy personalities. What I would do for that... their lovable banter... their...

"Harry? Oh my god, Harry are you ok?" I heard a high, sweet voice call out. His voice cracked slightly when he saw me.

I whipped my head up. A set of bright blue eyes stared at me with concern.

"Louis." I whimpered as he sat next to me and took me in his arms. I tried to say more but nothing would come out.

"Harry, mate, I had no idea you were upset, I would've come out quicker," When I didn't respond, he continued, "I'm so sorry. Is this about Simon yelling at you?"