Boy at the window || Larry Stylinson AU

In front of me raindrops run down the windowpane, the moon shimmers darkly through the thick cloud layer. On the street cars drive by, the rain sparkles in their headlights. The town is black, only single neon signs are to be seen. On the opposite side of the street a pink logo blinks: 'World Music', the most popular disco in my neighbourhood. Silently the music echoes trough the rain and into my ear. 11.17 pm, too late to go to the club as my parents say. All my classmates are there, partying, dancing, laughing. Except for me, the outsider, the nerd. Inhibited, shy. I averd my eyes from the street and continue reading the book I hold in my hands. My mind loves travelling into fictional worlds where everything is possible. [...] "Louis!" my mum shouts...