California Sold - Larry Stylinson

chapter 6

The airport is filled with paparazzi. PR's doing, certainly, but the uneasy feeling in Louis' chest doesn't subside as he looks out from the thin window next to the door. All they have to do is walk a hundred metres or so from the door and through the arrivals area and slip out the front doors, and then jump into one of the two escalades waiting for them. One for Louis and Lottie, and another for Harry; safety reasons. Louis is not even two per cent in the mood for this.

Once it's time to get a move on, Louis and Lottie exit first with an airport employee that has been walking them from the aeroplane. Harry is behind them with Alberto who had joined them earlier, not too far but not too close either, just enough for them to be in the same shot when one of the paps start filming them as they hurriedly walk through the airport.

Two men instantly crowd in front of Harry as they walk, trudging with them all the way from the door to the cars. The sound of the shutters is a bit overwhelming, and the light from the flashes harsh, but when Louis glances at Harry the younger man is merely blinking. He is used to this, Louis knows, but it never stops baffling him how this can become someone's every-day life.

It's different than the pap walk the night of the failed stunt. It's less intense, less paps, but it's also a longer walk, and it's harder to block out the words they are calling at them. Lottie shoots Louis an affronted look when one of the guys shouts at Louis, asking him what 'semi-sexual' means. Louis tightens his hand on his bag, and proceeds to ignore the fuck out of him.

After nearly a week free of the duties of Harry's celebrity life, getting back into it head first like this feels like a cold shower. Louis is already tired from the flight, and having his sister with him he feels even more protective than he does with Harry alone.

"Are you gay then?!" the pap calls just when Louis is about to slip into the car after Lottie, having endured the same 'semi-sexual' questions for a full two minutes now. Now, Louis first thinks the question is directed at Harry, but when he looks up his mate is already out of sight.

Anger seizes him for a split second, and he spins around. "Why don't you fockin' ask something you're actually interested in for more than a bloody headline? Show some bloody respect, ya fockin' prick."

He slams the door shut behind him, and instantly covers his face in his hand, moaning loudly.

"Lou, are you allowed to —" Lottie starts, but Louis cuts her off.

"Of course not," he sighs. "Shit."

It's four AM, his head is spinning, and he just lost his cool and gave the pap that fucking headline anyway. God. Their car starts moving, and Louis has never been more grateful.

Everything has been a bit stressful the last few days. A girl had sworn on Twitter that she had seen Harry and Louis kiss in a pub in Manchester. As she has a big amount of followers on the website it caught attention, and the story escalated when another account updating other fans on Harry and his band mates' lives retweeted her tweets. Jeff had not been happy after their names had trended worldwide once again, and he had rung them up, asking how the fuck it had come about, considering the girl tweeting was the same person Harry had taken a fan picture with the same night, giving her more than the slightest advantage in making people believe her. Louis' Instagram picture from the same evening, suggesting that he had in fact been out at a pub that night as well, in Manchester no less, was not helpful.

"Lies," Harry had told Jeff, ignoring the alarmed look Louis shot him. It was certainly not lies, because Louis distinctly remembers having Harry's tongue in his mouth, tasting like fruity vodka and something else he couldn't determine.

"She tweeted that she has proof, Harry!" he hissed at him when they had ended the phone call from Jeff. "Why would you lie to Jeff about what happened? Because you do remember, don't you? You weren't that drunk."