Louis Tomlinson was well known. Not popular, but well known. He was 18, attractive, on the football team, covered in tattoos, he smoked, had his own car, and had two close friends, Liam and Zayn.
Harry Styles was almost the complete opposite. He wasn't exactly popular. He was 18, didn't drive, didn't smoke, had one friend, Niall Horan. The only thing he and Louis Tomlinson had in common was they were both on the football team. Or at least that's what was known.
Louis' challenge was simple. Get Styles to fuck him. That was it. Louis thought he could do that no sweat, but Harry was harder to get. But when he started something, he was determined to finish it.
TW: this story contains implications of sexual abuse, as well as mental abuse, self-harm, drug use, and drinking.
"FUCKING HARRY STYLES! And no, that is not a to-do list. It's an adequate description of the most annoyingly self-indulgent human being, Louis Tomlinson has ever met, and those were his first thoughts when he laid eyes on the guy."
All in all, this makes for a pretty unbearable situation when an unlucky coincidence, a need for good publicity and a whole lot of rumors results in a pretend friendship - or whatever one would call the relationship between Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles.