the light's on but nobody's home || l.s

there he is, a vacant smile lingering on his face, one hand occupied by a glass of champagne and the other obscenely draped around a girl's waist, laughing and chatting along, not a care in the world. it's irksome and fake, he knows it's fake, they both know it's fake.

louis subtly watches as the seemingly gleeful curly-haired man whispers something in the girl's ear and receives a momentary wink in return. louis ponders about how a man who is so infallibly flawless and joyful in the eyes of the public can be so broken and shattered when no one's around. except, he's been there. he's seen the man crumble into pieces. he's seen the man cry like there was no tomorrow.

he's seen the truth hidden beneath the veil he uses to mask his insecurities and sadness.

so he ignores the uneasy feeling in his stomach and sighs, exhaling all the nervousness that seeps through his skin. no matter how much he doesn't want to do this, he has to. he only has one objective to accomplish.

and that is to fix harry styles.

[lowercase intended]