Turquoise (L.S)

V

Louis waited impatiently for the star to appear in his dressing room. He had made himself comfortable on Harry's obnoxiously over-the-top vanity chair, leaning his feet up against the desk, as Harry had done the first time they had interacted in the room. Traces of white powder were still visible on its surface and the smell of cigarettes hung in the air like a broken Christmas ornament. Memories of what was once a talented young man, destroyed by fame and drugs.

Against his better judgement, Louis began nosying around the desk and through the star's polaroid pictures stuck on his dirty mirror, identifying singers and actors alike.

A small group photo stuck out to him. It was the only photo where Harry was smiling genuinely, like he had with his assistant. Two men were with him, both famous singers.

Zayn Malik and Liam Payne.

Louis had always assumed that the friendship between the three of them had been for publicity but this photo told a different story. It has to be at least 5 years old. They were squished on some type of sofa and Harry had his arms around the both of them. The picture had been captured mid laugh and all of them had glints in their eyes and wide smiles on their faces. They looked like normal teenage boys. It was hard to imagine Harry hanging out like a regular person. Did he go to the pub and order a pint? Did he talk footy with the lads? The thought made Louis vocally snort.

Another photo or lack of, you could say, that Louis picked up on was the absence of Taylor. She was his wife, yet he had absolutely nothing that indicated her presence. He found it extremely odd, but tried not to overanalyse it. Why did he care anyway?

Before he could investigate any of the other photos stuck carelessly on Harry's mirror, the rockstar burst through the door and chucked his blazer. He had probably been aiming for the sofa but the jacket landed in a heap on the floor, making an uncomfortably loud sound as the buttons collided with the cold concrete.

"So why as his royal highness requested my presence?" Loui asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Harry's eyes ran over his body and his eyebrow raised at Louis's feet carelessly thrown across his desk: his scuffed, dirty white shoes contrasting with the dark, expensive mahogany.

"For this exact reason," Harry snapped and Louis removed his feet from the desk, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere. He felt tense and uncomfortable, especially as he watched Harry continue to drink him in, his eyes raking over his face and body.

"I don't know who you think you are but this rude backchat needs to stop," Harry stepped closer to the desk and Louis suddenly felt very small, but he was not about to let this man's attempts of scaring him work.

Harry Styles deserved to be knocked down a peg or two.

"Why should it?" He retorted, feeling very much like a child on a school playground. The immature reply earned a warranted snort from the rockstar and Louis felt his face heat up slightly.

"Because it pisses me off, that's why," Once again Harry's mood flipped and his smirk morphed into a snarl. His hands ran through his hair; gold rings clashing with dark chestnut strands.

"If I piss you off so much, why did you put me through?" Louis challenged, crossing his arms in disbelief at the man's idiocy and hypocritical behaviour. Surely he could not be for real?

Harry let out a frustrated groan and the hand that had been softly combing through his hair began to pull tightly, tugging on the delicate, deep brunette strands.

He looked annoyed.

He was annoyed.

"Because as much I hate to say it, you have talent and you have a strong drive for success. You're gonna need that," Louis raised his eyebrow at the compliment, a gesture that did not go unnoticed and Harry added in a rush: