California Sold - Larry Stylinson

chapter 7

Jeff and Glenne come over the day after the party at Snoop's by noon. Harry's curls are mussed and tangled, and Lottie looks like she went on a rave the previous night, lipstick smudged on her jaw. None of them have barely spoken this morning, having slept in late.

"I have to figure out what brand she used," Lottie mutters as she rubs at the faintly purple spot as they sit down at the kitchen table. "Good stuff."

Glenne and Jeff have brought coffees and scones from Starbucks, and Louis picks a vanilla latte, sipping slowly as he waits for the verdict. Harry is on the other side of the table, blinking tiredly with bags under his eyes, looking as though he is ready to bring out his deadliest stare. He is still mad, Louis knows that, but what he isn't sure of is if it's Jeff who will be on the receiving end of that, or all of them.

"I'm pissed off that you didn't tell me," Jeff says after the silence has wandered on for too long, keeping his eyes on the tablet on the table in front of him. He sips from his coffee. "And it was fucking stupid of you not to."

Harry crosses his arms, and does not say a word. Louis had expected as much.

Louis inhales deeply, figuring he might as well go head then. "It was a silly kiss between friends," he says earnestly. "God knows my mates back home go at it every now and then. Even Stan, and he's got a long-term girlfriend."

Jeff doesn't even reply, and Glenne gives him a look that tells him it's useless, while Harry's brows are knitted even further. He doesn't seem to like Louis' way of helping, and Louis suddenly remembers the pained look in his eyes when he said the same thing last night. 'Don't say that' he had said.

"I'm royally pissed off, guys, but we can use this to our advantage," Jeff says after a long minute of silence. "We haven't had anything candid like that of you yet, except for the video with the crew in London, and I suppose it helps you two look authentic." Jeff sighs, and gives them both a sour look. "Telling you to lay low is entirely useless because you don't freaking listen, but I fucking need you to try. This severely reinforces the beliefs among fans and the general public that you are indeed a couple, and we still have more than a month to keep you in the closet, Harry. Do you realise that you could have been actually outed?"

Harry doesn't meet his eyes, only shrugs.

"Harry," Glenne says, voice softer than Jeff's, but serious. "I know that you wanted to keep your kiss between the two of you, but you let that jeopardise your coming out. The picture could have been much worse. We need to do this correctly. You seriously cannot be outed. Your coming out must be an empowered choice, and not a pity story. This can't be stressed enough."

"Do you understand, Harry?" Jeff says when he doesn't give much of a response.

He nods reluctantly.

"Say it."

Harry looks up, face cold. "I get it," he says.

"Look, we'll try to have you two lay low until the end of the week. Then I'll tell you to post something on social media, or something of the likes. And, oh, if you did not grasp it, lay low means stay out of fucking sight."

"Jeff," Glenne reprimands. "They get it."

The man sighs, rubbing his brow. "I'm on your side, Harry. That's why I'm up in your grill about this. I care about you, and your career. All I want is for your coming out to be as successful as possible."

Harry only makes a grunt, chewing on his chocolate croissant. Louis watches him munch in silence, the air around the table not too tense, but certainly palpable.

After a minute, Jeff mutters, "Can't help but wonder if you two actually are screwing —"

Harry chokes on his croissant, and Louis looks up with wide eyes in shock. Jeff stares at them as though their reaction is the most ridiculous thing he has seen in years, sighing. Louis looks over to Lottie, but she suddenly seems rather enthusiastically invested in her Danish.