Labels || H.S. [#Wattys2020]

O N E H U N D R E D A N D F I F T E E N

Reagan had finally had enough. She was tired of letting Louis passively coexist and moodily sigh around the studio. So she did what she should have done in the first place.

The night wasn't too humid, in fact, it was the perfect temperature at the beachfront. She walked to Louis' door, sandals in hand, and heard the waves crash in the background.

Then she heard the swearing.

"Fucking shit."

She turned to look towards the shore and saw, of course, a drenched Louis angrily shaking off droplets of water from his hoodie. She tried not to smile, and made her way over to him, yelling, "Why are you out here?"

"I thought it would be peaceful." He shook off his sleeve, "I was wrong." And then he looked up at her, "Wait, why are you asking why I'm here. You're the one trespassing." He added with a smirk.

As Reagan approached him he looked at her up and down, as if remembering all those nights ago when he had told her that his best mate was in love with her and that she should just go for it. It felt like a lifetime ago to him, it was eerie. He felt so incredibly displaced.

"As I recall, you don't even live here." She pushed back her hair as it got tangled in her face. The salty breeze was beginning to pick up.

He smiled, actually quite grateful that she had shown up,"You're right."

Reagan stood beside him now, steadying him. He had obviously had a tad too much to drink. His grip was still strong upon her arm though, and honestly he relished the contact. Not in some weird kind of way, but rather just in the way that finally he had someone there to ground him. Harry hadn't even been round, he was probably sick of listening to his drunk rants. He knew he'd come back, he always did. But Harry had a tendency of feeling helpless whenever he couldn't do anything to ease the sadness of those around him. So Louis told Harry to leave for a while, just until he was okay enough to not have to pretend for Harry's sake. Harry had reluctantly followed Louis' wishes, but luckily Reagan just wasn't that type of person.

"You okay?" She asked, obviously worried. Reagan knew Louis, okay she had only known him for a few months, but she knew him enough to know that he wasn't the type to constantly get drunk. He wasn't the kind of person to shut himself away, to stop trying. He was so much better than this, so much better than this person he was becoming.

"Been better."

But he was also incredibly stubborn, just like Reagan. He would never admit something was wrong. He'd rather drown his sorrows, figuratively and literally apparently.

"I'd say." She replied, eyeing him up and down.

He shrugged. He had been caring less and less about what people thought of him. After the media began spinning things their way, no matter what Reagan did, his reputation just couldn't be salvaged. He would forever be labeled the womanizer, the unfit father, the pop star out of control. As much as Reagan did, and boy did she do a lot, he was left with two options. At least that's what Lydia had told him that afternoon. He could either take full responsibility for the child and Briana, and do the right thing, the traditional thing. Or, he could prepare himself for the custody battle of the year if Briana were to turn on him. He shook his head as he thought about it. Briana wasn't that type of girl, they remained friends, nothing else. They knew what they were to each other. And Louis was never the 'traditional' type of guys, so why would he pretend to be? He was just so sure that he could do this on his own if people just gave him the space to work it out.

But then again, he was a mess. Kennedy wouldn't talk to him, Briana didn't want to see him, and his whole life was falling apart. Everything he knew was changing.