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Harry locked his phone. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He should feel accomplished and happy and be at a club to get laid. He should be celebrating finally coming out. But it felt so wrong. He had always imagined how coming out to his fans would happen. But in all the versions he came up with, even the ones where he was not supported by his fans and media, there was someone by his side to hold him when he came back from the interview.
But obviously, it had turned out completely different. After the interview, Harry had hurried home straight away. He had eaten an entire pizza for dinner to celebrate and drank almost a whole bottle of champagne. It was probably no wonder he felt sick now.
His flat was nice, for sure, big and new in the posh part of London. But it was also empty and white and not homey at all. And worst of all it was lonely. Maybe he had denied himself happiness when he broke it off with his first and only boyfriend at 18. He had felt tied town and wanted to make it big. That was at least one thing he had managed to do.
He was one of the richest people in the world, he was the one with the most twitter followers of all times and each time he released an album or single you could be sure to find it #1 in seemingly every country. Harry knew he should be happy and he was most certainly grateful to the fans, especially because they supported him despite his personality. But in his stressful life with constant jetlag, he was missing a constant. He wanted something (or rather someone) to come home to and to thank if he wins at the Brits and to cuddle at night. But being a gay, world-famous, good-looking 21 year old does not make it easy to find someone to love. And it’s not even as if he wanted just anyone. He was still heartbroken over the boy who had stolen his heart when he was only 16. Maybe breaking it off had been a mistake, but they probably wouldn’t have lasted anyway.
Still, he missed him badly. His ex had stopped calling him only a week after Harry had left and soon after, he had changed his number so Harry couldn’t call him anymore. So he guessed at least one of them had moved on.
Harry knew he was mopping and he was not proud of it. He hated being alone and he had been lonely for too long. Hell, he hadn’t even had sex since the break-up and he was pretty sure that the biceps on his right arm was beginning to bulge more than the left due to all the wanking he had been doing lately. He was angry at himself for drowning in self-pity, because he knew that it was his fault alone and that he could have been happy tonight instead of eating too much junk (which would certainly make him go to gym the next day because he feels guilty) and playing angry birds on his phone till 1am. But it was not his fault that despite being young he would have wanted children by now but this was definitely off limits. He could just imagine HIS children, how pretty they would look running around the house, how HE would pick them up and kiss their noses before going to work at... Harry didn't even know what his ex could be doing now. He had been so caught up in his own world with his own wishes, he had never even listened to him. Harry knew that he had wanted to go to uni to study but he did not have a clue what it could have been.
He felt guilty. But deep inside he knew that the break-up was a good decision. Even though it turned out to be hard on him, he hoped that his ex had been able to move on and find a better boyfriend than Harry had been. That was when Harry decided he needed to move on and forget that boy. He just needed to get laid. Moreover, he needed to get laid right now. The only problem with the plan was, that Harry neither wanted a guy who only wanted to get fucked by the famous Harry Styles in order to sell the story to the papers nor did he want someone too drunk who would end up staying the night because he was not capable of walking straight. Not that anyone could possibly be able to walk straight after being topped by Harry but you catch the drift.
This is how Harry found himself covered in beanie, coat and scarf, because he didn't want to be recognised. He had chosen to walk for two reasons: On the one hand, he didn't want someone to identify the car and on the other hand, despite planning on picking up a prostitute, he did not want it to be like a drive through at McDonald's. Maybe it would be safer to go to a brothel, but he felt terrible uncomfortable with the idea of fucking someone in a room in which thousands of others had had sex before him. Even though it was going to be sex with a prostitute and would therefore not mean anything at all, he wanted at least a small amount of intimacy.
The September air was chilly. (Who was he kidding it was like 100 degree celsius below zero. He lived in England after all) He was walking slowly along the quay. This was not the most common place for prostitutes to wait for their clients, but Harry had come here because someone (Nick, maybe?) had told him they all wore leather bracelets in either red or blue or both in order to show what gender their clients should be. There were mainly girls, most of which wore only a blue bracelet, but they were not what he was looking for. Finally, he spotted some lads at the end of the street. Most of them were looking bored and really slutty. Still, he couldn't help but feel sorry for them. He knew that most of these people here did not want to do this, but they had to for various reasons. No, Harry definitely wasn't proud of being here, but he was just so damn desperate to forget his ex-lover that it felt like the only solution.
Finally, two boys caught Harry's eyes. They were standing in the dark, and he couldn't see them properly, though he only deemed that fair because he himself was in disguise too. They were talking quietly and appeared to be more alert than the rest of the boys. Even though both of them were wearing almost nothing, they didn't look as sleazy as the others. The first had his seemingly dark hair in a quiff and looked quite muscular. The other boy was quite a bit shorter. Harry could only see him from behind. And even though Harry found him way too thin, he had a bum to die for. He must have sensed Harry staring and turned around. But it wasn't him who spoke, it was his partner: "Yah want him? He's two hundred the whole night." Harry just gave a nod and beckoned the boy to follow him.
Harry didn't talk while walking. He thought the lad wouldn't want anything to do with a stranger that would fuck him for money. Also, Harry felt guilty for doing something so low. He knew his mother would be so upset if she knew about this. But then again, he would probably treat the boy better than most of his other clients. The boy was trailing a little behind him. He was only wearing yoga-shorts and a crop-top. Suddenly, Harry became hyper-aware of the fact that this poor boy must be freezing.
"Aren't you cold? You can have my coat if you want!", he said and started peeling off his coat, which caused his scarf to fall off and reveal his face. The boy had caught up with him and looked at him for about a millisecond before turning around and dashing off. Harry took after him and grabbed his arm to turn him around. What he saw was very far off from what he had expected. Under the light of the streetlamp, Harry could clearly see the most wonderful blue eyes he had ever seen. He saw the scrub the boy - or rather man - had and his extremely prominent cheekbones.
"Louis", Harry chocked out, shocked.
"Let me go!", Louis said emotionlessly.
"Please Louis, listen to me. Come in, I can get you something to eat, you look like you need it and-" "As if you knew what I need. You didn't care then, why should you care now. You left me then, so you should let me go now. Let go of me or I'll call the police. You wouldn't want those headlines tomorrow, so shortly after your coming out scandal, would you?", Louis interrupted his rambling, speaking coldly, sounding hard and unforgiving.
But Harry was close to begging: "If you don't want to come in, that's fine, but let me at least drive you back. I'll even pay for the night! I know I messed up, I do, and I know this will not make it any better, but please just let me bring you home-" he broke off in an ugly sob. He hated himself so much. He didn't want his Louis, his beautiful, wonderful Louis, the only boy he had ever loved to live such a life. And he knew that he had very likely contributed a lot to him ending up here. "Fine.", Louis said wearily, as if giving up. He knew there was no use in trying to fight Harry when he got like this.
The ride to Louis' flat was awkwardly silent. Harry couldn't stop thinking about how much Louis had changed. He had dark bags under his eyes, which weren't as shiny as they were three years ago. He was extremely thin, which made him look even more fragile and small than before. His cheekbones were sticking out and the only thing on his body that was not completely flat or even inwardly curved, was his bum, which was just as brilliant as when he was twenty. He had let his hair grow a bit, he wore it in a tousled mess and he also had some facial hair now. Harry couldn't deny that he looked almost unbearably hot but at the same time very tired and sick. He couldn't help but wonder, what might have possibly happened to this gorgeous boy that he had to earn a living like this. He couldn't help but feel guilty, if he had only stayed with Louis, they could have both lived happy lives, seeing that Harry had more money than he could possibly spend. Because he was feeling guilty like that, he was glad to see, that Louis did not live in the really shitty and dangerous part of London. Still, it was an area in which flats were very cheap and not very big.
He had hardly stopped the car when Louis was already getting out. "Wait", Harry called. "I haven't paid you yet." He thrusted 400 pounds in Louis' hands and smiled sadly: "200 for a whole night is not enough Lou, you should charge more."
And with that, he was off, knowing Louis wouldn't want to take the money from him, he had always wanted to be capable of supporting himself.
Louis watched him drive off, a slightly perplex and melancholic look on his face.
This is my twitter.