Turquoise (L.S)

III

"My session with him was supposed to be over three hours ago. This is ridiculous,"

Louis sat on the dark grey sofa in the green room, listening to his competitors complain. A group of them had been waiting for their one on one session with Harry, to prepare them for the performance at the end of the week, but Harry didn't seem to want to comply with the rules set by Factor 28. And so, here Louis was with four other contestants, sitting like a lemon.

He felt slightly chilly in just his plain white t shirt and ripped jeans and was feeling restless and uncomfortable, not to mention incredibly frustrated.

He knew that Harry would probably be a useless mentor. That was a given. But he was surprised by how quickly his unprofessionalism had come out. In a way it angered him. Louis had sacrificed so much to be a musician and Harry was living his dream and didn't even seem slightly grateful.

Bitter was a good word to describe Louis's feelings towards the struggling, spoilt Rockstar.

Checking the clock, he noticed that his one-hour session was supposed to be 30 minutes ago and he rolled his eyes. The crew were awkwardly standing there, occasionally checking their own watches. The whole situation was awkward, embarrassing and wrong.

Harry Styles could not get away with this. Louis would not let him.

Standing up, he walked over to one of the production crew.

"Excuse me? Where's Harry's dressing room?" the crew member whipped her auburn hair in his direction and widened her green eyes in surprise. She was youthful and seemed unsure of the request. She was probably shocked by his boldness and turned towards other members of the crew, her eyes flitting from one to the other. They all seemed engrossed in serious conversation, and paid no attention to the two of them. She sighed and gave him hushed directions. Louis suspected that she was only an intern and was probably sympathising with him and the other contestants about their situation.

Louis listened carefully, nodding his head and making a mental note of the directions she gave. He then whispered a quiet thank you before heading out of the room.

The Factor 28 studio was dreary and depressing. As he walked down corridor after corridor, he was hit with the boring colour of grey. It was that ugly tone of grey that reflects old cement or clay infested waters. It was that grey you see in hospitals or those American high schools that looked more like prisons than places of learning. The studio seemed endless and soul sucking. Louis wondered why they chose such a sad colour and as he walked to the dressing room, he pictured light blues, greens and lilacs coating the walls. That would look much more welcoming.

Suddenly, he came to an abrupt stop outside of a door. A laminated piece of paper was stuck to it and caught his eye:

'Mr Harry Styles'.

Without a second thought, Louis swung the door open wide.

"Excuse me!"

Harry Styles moved his feet from the dressing table he was using as a foot rest and sprang up, surprised and baffled by the sudden outburst. Undeterred by this hostility, Louis came closer and slammed the door behind him. This caused Harry's brow to knot and a look of confusion was written across his face in an annoyed expression.

"What are you doing?" He gasped at the boy, who stormed into his dressing room without an explanation. Louis scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" He challenged, eyeing the white lines freshly made, on the dressing room table and the distinct smell of cigarette smoke hanging in the air.

Brightly coloured suits littered the floor and empty bottles of whiskey lay discarded on a large oak table. The focal point of the room was a large, royal blue, crush velvet sofa coated in various sets of designer clothes, shoes and bags. Harry's dressing room was bigger (and messier) than Louis's entire house.