Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser

«Styles... Harry Styles» I watched the secretary search for my name in the long list of papers she had. «Styles, Styles, Styles... Ah, there it is! Room 258, you are sharing a room with a certain Louis Tomlinson!" I took the keys she offered me and gave her one of my smiles, that I was sure would melt her. That forty-year-old secretary was probably the youngest woman in this place. Why had my parents forced me to a men's college? Well actually I knew that, but it still wasn't right. (I don't own anything, all rights reserved to @sgrissi)