Chapter Text
It's the hottest summer in a while.
The heat is so unbearable in London that all the wealthy families fled the country to spend a few weeks of July on their yachts in Greece, their villas in Italy or Spain.
Some might stay it's an efficient way to lose touch to reality. But Louis is in touch with reality, he really is.
He's feeling the sun on his skin, he's noticing the small breeze go through the olive trees and he clearly hears the waves hitting the cliffs a few feet below his designated place by the pool.
And he's most definitely in touch with reality when his slight snoozing gets interrupted by his phone ringing. With a sigh, he sits up in his lounger, grabs his nearly overheated phone and accepts the call.
"Payno, how is it?"
"Extremely hot." Comes his best friend's voice through the speaker. "I hate this asphalted heat. How's life as a nepo baby?"
Louis scoffs, gets to his feet and walks around, looking over the coast and the sea full of expensive sailing yachts. "I'm not a nepo baby, Liam. I'm not even famous."
"Yet."
Louis lets out a small chuckle and takes off his sunglasses. He puts his phone on speaker and lays it down on the warm sand stone right by the pool before he jumps into the cooling water.
The pool has heated up quite a bit the last few weeks, and it can hardly really be called refreshing, but anything is better than the unforgiving sun that burns down on him. Liam is just finishing another sentence when he resurfaces and pushes his wet hair out of his forehead.
"-in a month, two tops, I guarantee it."
Not really bothering to ask him to repeat his statement, Louis only hums while he gets back out of the water. He's dripping all over the stones on his way back to his seat, but the water dries almost instantly in this midday heat.
"How's your small celebrity crush going, by the way? Wasn't he rumoured to have joined the band of this insufferable 'new big thing' as they call him?" Louis asks, changing the topic while putting his sunglasses back on and adjusting the sunshade a little to cover more of his body.
"I thought Harry Styles was your type?" Asks Liam, clearly getting into a cab by the sounds in the background.
There's honking and yelling, the sounds of squeaking brakes and overall hum of people talking around him. God, Louis is glad he doesn't have to endure London right now, not in this peak of summer.
Scoffing again, Louis lays back down on his warm towel and lets the sun do the job of drying him. "I hate all Popstars by principle, forgot? Don't even have to meet him, can already tell he's an arrogant brat, a twat with a fuckass big ego, probably bigger than his dick, and I would never touch him even if I'd had ten shots of tequila."
"Did you dad tell you all of that about him?" Liam asks with a smile clear in his voice.
"He didn't have to." Louis sighs and stretches his limbs. "I miss the time we had celebrities with actual character and talent. All they do nowadays is parade their girls and their money around. And my father told me Styles is somewhat of a part time addict."
"Sounds like he needs love." Liam laughs, pausing quickly to tell the taxi driver his address.
"Well good fucking luck finding it," Louis lets out a chuckle as well. "Anyway, why do you want to talk about him so much, I was just asking you about your new boy toy. Zack or what is his name?" Louis desperately changes the topic again. "Did he or did he not join that wanker's band?"
"Zayn," Liam corrects him with a sigh. "Yes he did, but I wanted to talk about Harry because obviously you'll have to be-"
"Hold up my dad just came home." Louis says, seeing a glimpse of the black Porsche behind the trees, "I'll call you back, alright? He'll probably want to lecture me about wasting my time doing nothing all day."
Hearing Liams short response, Louis hangs up and finally leaves the pool area, walking back into the house through the huge panorama glass doors.
Their vacation house is right above the cliffs with a huge outdoor pool, too many rooms and a roof terrace. Louis loves it. He loves spending the summer here since he's been doing that almost every year now. In his early teenage years, it also made sense to have a house that big because back then all his sisters would sometimes join him and his dad even though he's not their real father.
Louis really likes Mark, his stepfather, but his dad just lives a certain lifestyle that Louis loves. With all the houses and first class plane tickets and yachts and high society parties, Louis almost forgives him for having been such a shitty dad for years.
As Louis got older, they got along better than before, and now Louis would never turn down an opportunity to spend a few weeks in Italy with his dad even though they don't even see each other often. He gets to go to all the important celebrity events for free, so.
"Hey dad," he mumbles while walking over to the fridge to inspect it, mainly to have something to do.
"I've got amazing news." His father says while grabbing a glass of water and downing it almost in one go. "I've got a job for you."
Louis halts with his fingers inches away from the chocolate bar in the fridge. "What."
"Come on boy, you know how I feel about your current lifestyle. You finished college almost four years ago and you promised me you'd have found something by now."
"Well I haven't found anything I liked." Louis crosses his arms in front of his chest.
"Because you haven't tried anything." His dad puts a hand on his shoulder and walks him over to the windows. "So I have found something you can try, something that goes well with your current idea of a perfect lifestyle and something that will help you build a foundation for later businesses, like I did when I was your age. It's all-"
"About connections," Louis finishes, "yeah, I know."
"Here's the deal, you try what I have found for you for two months at least. If you don't like it, you can stop again and take some more time to think about university or other directions."
"Fine," Louis gives in. "What kind of job are we talking about?"
His father smiles proudly, as if this was the greatest achievement of his life. To be honest, he did spend some time trying to get Louis to work. Louis personally thinks he just wasn't made for the work life. But he would much rather work than go to university.
"You know we are always looking for new people."
"Yes." Louis answers while they sit down at the kitchen island.
His father owns one of the biggest music management labels, so getting new people when the old ones are not big anymore is kind of his whole job, obviously Louis is aware of that. He's grown up with insight into half the music industry, that's where he got his hatred concerning each and every single one of them.
"And, you've probably also seen it on the internet, we've got a brand new contract with-"
"No." Louis says instantly, getting back up. "Absolutely not."
"He's a wreck Louis, he needs an assistant."
Louis is gesturing wildly at this point. He can't believe this is becoming his problem all of a sudden, when he was just getting best at keeping his distance from all those people. "I don't care if he's a wreck! It's not my problem."
He only gets a stern look in return. "Right now people and the media love this rebellious side, but he could cost us millions. I mean, if he doesn't get a grip soon, they'll say he's hopeless and wasn't ready for this amount of fame."
"Okay so he wasn't." Louis shrugs, opening the chocolate bar and taking a big bite. "I'm not a babysitter."
"You're not his babysitter, you'd just make sure he puts up a good facade for pictures and that he shows up to all his appointments. Besides, he's had his baggage to carry, maybe he just needs someone his age around him sometimes. Like a friend, not a babysitter."
"You want to pay me to befriend him?" Louis lets out a humourless laugh. "Don't think that would solve his problems, honestly."
"You're not getting paid, son."
"Not even that?" Louis' jaw drops. This is just straight up outrageous at this point. He could maybe tolerate this son of a bitch if he got forty bucks per hour. But for free? No thanks.
"It's not a real employment." Now it's his dad's turn to laugh, spreading his arms as if that was common knowledge. "You could hardly even call this a mini job."
"It's real work?" Louis questions and mirrors his stance. "You above all people should know that taking care of guys like these in terms of time management is a real handful!"
"Yeah real work," His dad scoffs, looking out over the cliffs with a smile and making quotation marks with his fingers in the air. "Flying in private jets and sleeping in five star hotels. Louis you just have to accompany him everywhere, you'd get to live that luxurious life for free just without the horrible part of being a celebrity."
Louis purses his lips as he thinks about that. It does sound like his ideal lifestyle, his dad is right about that, at least. He's never loved his insight into the music industry as much as it would take for him to call it his dream job for the future, what his dad does, but he loves the small aspects that come with it. Like traveling around the world and not taking anything below four stars.
Louis tilts his head to the side while a smile slowly makes the way onto his lips. Plus, he doesn't really have anything else to do right now. "And I get to boss him around?"
"Yes."
"Proper disrespectful commands? He can't fire me, no matter how miserable I make his life?" Louis finishes the chocolate bar with a last big bite and mindlessly starts tearing the plastic wrapping into tiny pieces, spreading them all over the surface of the kitchen island.
It's hot in here, the heat radiating off the huge windows next to them, but it's definitely a lot more bearable than outside.
His father looks at him with a slightly bewildered look as he sees Louis' evil grin. "Well-"
"As long as the cameras don't catch it?"
His dad only sighs. "Well, yeah, I honestly don't really care what you do as long as nobody knows about it and he shows up to important functions, put together and at least a little happy."
"So I can really give him a piece of my mind when we're alone?"
"Yeah, I suppose so." His father says.
"And he has to listen to me?"
At this point, Louis' dad only sticks to nodding, looking at Louis still a little confused.
Leaning back in his chair, Louis stares at the ceiling. The fan there spins calmly, on the lowest setting since Louis spent almost the entire day outside.
He's always been naturally tan, so he can really embrace the sun without too many problems of burn or irritation, but he still feels the slight tenderness on his arms and torso from where he's been tanning all day. He definitely needs a cold refreshing shower.
"I'll consider it."
Even though deep down he knows his decision is already made.
×͜×
'Why did I agree to this' is the first thing Louis thinks when he sees a dark red vintage convertible car pull up, probably ridiculously expensive.
His dad is currently inside the building, talking to another boring a-list celebrity and told Louis to wait outside with a few security guards that protect the front door.
Two weeks have passed of Louis changing his mind approximately every twenty seconds, until he almost went crazy and had to forbid himself from thinking about it entirely.
He called his best mate Liam about a million times while spending the last fourteen days of Italian peace by the pool and the beach, already dreading this moment.
But he can do this, he told himself on the plane and when he arrived back home. He told himself that this morning when he had breakfast with his mum and sisters, then out of sheer boredom drove them to school, grabbed a coffee only to have something to do, changed his outfit at least five times and then spent the entire afternoon in his dads office, telling himself that he can do this, that the positive aspects will overweigh the negative ones.
He's not so sure anymore.
The feeling of deeply questioning his past choices multiplies by a thousand as soon as Louis' eyes focus on the man behind the wheel, wearing black Gucci sunglasses and a black Gucci suit (Louis is quite good at spotting when "arrogant asshole with too much money" is written all over someone).
There's a slight, very welcomed cool breeze going through London and it's dark outside, already past nine pm, but the illuminated name of the firm written on the outside of the building combined with the flashes of paparazzi huddled at the side give a good view on who's arriving.
Louis suppresses a yawn of boredom when the young man gets out of the car and pushes his left hand into the pocket of his trousers. With his right hand, clutching the car keys, he goes through his hair, before twirling the keychain around his ringed finger once.
Louis wants to roll his eyes but he fears they might get stuck in the back of his head with the intensity of his annoyance.
But the 'new big thing' finds a way to make himself even less likeable. He barely turns his head to glance at Louis from behind his thousand pounds shades, before throwing the car keys at him. Louis is so taken aback that he only barely catches them.
Before the superstar can get too far, the words just burst out of him. "What the fuck? I'm not your fucking valet you wanker, go park your own fucking car!"
He halts, Louis watches his suddenly stiff back for a second before he turns around. Immediately, the security guards close in, to prevent further attention being drawn onto them. Pretty useless in Louis' opinion, because he has already drawn so insufferably much attention with his dramatic entrance alone.
Really, who just pulls up to a building and expects the people in front of it to park their car for them? He's two hours late to a meeting with his boss, not to a reservation at the Ritz, for fucks sake.
"My apologies, but do you know who you're talking to-" says one of guards in a hushed and hurried tone.
This time, Louis does roll his eyes, not even glancing at him but looking at the tall man in front of him. "I do but I don't fucking care, all I know is that I sure as hell won't park his car, no matter how much his hair routine costs."
At that, the blank expression slowly turns into a barely noticeable smirk, and he raises one ringed hand to push his sunglasses into said hair. Louis hates that he watches how the shiny curls twirl around the glasses and fall into his forehead.
Louis also hates that he is barely able to hold the eye contact when he slowly eyes him up and down with that insufferable green. Louis had been so sure it was photoshopped, but. Apparently not.
Even with the breeze, Louis feels a little warm beneath his sweater. He blames it on the anger. Who does this guy think he is? He's not David Bowie, people have been talking about him for barely two years. He really needs to get a check-up on that ego, because it's swelling to levels not yet seen before.
Every single feeling that Louis definitely wasn't feeling whatsoever in his stomach is replaced by repulsion as soon as he opens his mouth.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the smirk intensifies. "Princess."
Louis basically feels his lips part and his eyebrows tighten, "that's not my name, tosser."
"And tosser isn't mine," is the answer he gets, "But it seems like we are both currently having some trouble right now, so... What's your name sweetheart?"
Louis wordlessly taps the small name tag he was given this morning before entering the building for the first time. Two hours was how long it took him, his majesty as Louis now calls him in his head, to arrive.
And his majesty glances at the name tag, probably instantly recognises the name and straightens up, once again going through his hair with one hand. His expression has changed now, it's as if he's studying Louis more closely now. So he has been informed about this.
"Ah Lewis." He holds out the same hand.
"Louie." Says Louis, stubbornly ignoring the gesture.
"Louis." He says in that fake ass deep voice of his. Louis doesn't think he should speak like that, it could damage his vocal cords. Louis doesn't think he should speak at all.
"Yeah," he says, almost through gritted teeth now. He can smell the man's perfume with how close he got, and he has to fight his upchuck reflex. "What's your name?" He asks, trying to test the waters. He needs to know exactly how to piss him off, since that will be the best part of his new job.
He watches as the other man pulls out his phone and types away on it. Louis is just about to leave and slam the door in his face, when he turns the phone around. One glance at it and Louis rolls his eyes, can't resist the urge this time.
"Did you just google yourself?"
"You already knew my name anyway. No point in me interrupting my vocal rest."
"Okay, yeah Harold, that's an amazing idea, you should really shut the fuck up." Louis sighs and turns on his heels, walking over to the door that one of the security men opens for him. He doesn't check if he's being followed.
That way he also misses how Harry Styles smirks even wider, almost a smile at that point, and eyes him up and down once more before he walks after him into the building.
During the first meeting of Louis, his dad, some other managers and Harry Styles himself, Louis takes his place pointedly at his father's side to show Harry exactly who has more power here.
He feels Harry's eyes on him more often than not, and stubbornly crosses his arms in front of his chest, staring back and raising his left eyebrow in silent question. At that, Harry only smirks a little, leaning back further in his chair on the opposite side of the desk than them, spreading his legs a little wider, throwing an arm around the backrest lazily and looking just two hundred percent more insufferable.
"So, now that that's done," His dad concludes some important briefing of the next few weeks. He gets up and shakes the hands of all the people in the room, Harry only nodding his head slightly as every one of them leaves the room. Apparently he's already been told to wait a little longer. When it's just the three of them, Louis' father walks back to his desk and gestures to Louis. "This is my son Louis. You've already met him, right?"
Harry only nods a little, not taking his eyes off Louis. Louis stares back, trying to keep his face blank.
His dad seems to be unaware of the staring contest that's going on, he only puts one hand into the pocket of his suit trousers and walks towards his office's window. "Louis will keep track of your schedule from now on, remind you off all your appointments and what will be expected from you." He says with an undertone that promises he's only doing this because he's been unhappy with how Harry has been managing it on his own so far. "You will stay at all hotels together, he will accompany you to all events and functions."
He clicks his tongue and walks back over to where they sit. Harry finally breaks the eye contact to look up at him with a set up, obviously fake charming smile, getting up as well. "That is very kind of you to organise, Mr Austin, thank you so much."
Louis rolls his eyes again as he gets up as well, watching Harry shake his dad's hand. His father looks visibly pleased with himself, looking back and forth between them before he claps his hands and walks over to the door, holding them open for the two of them.
"Well, then." He says happily. "You'll spend a few days here at the same hotel, get to know how to work together. We've got a few interviews set up for the next week, but Louis knows all of that."
Louis only smiles tightly as he gets a clap on the shoulder.
His dad pointedly looks at them one last time. "Now, I have to finish work for the day and I'll send you off. I'm sure you'll get along well."
Louis only barely covers a cough and hugs his dad goodbye, walking towards the elevator without another word and pressing the button to the lobby. Harry only catches up with him when the doors are already closing and he slips in the last second.
Before he can even start, Louis does. "That means you'll have to do everything I say."
He turns his body slightly, looking up at Harry, who only smirks and leans forward a little. "You make that sound so exciting."
"It won't be," Louis promises turning back to stare at the closed elevator door. "You can start by getting used to being on time, I waited two hours today and I won't fucking do that again. I won't run after you so if you don't want me to manipulate your schedule so that you have to get up at five am every morning, I suggest you do what I say."
Harry whistles lowly through his teeth at that. "Calm down, I was only late today because I came straight from the airport."
"I can smell the weed, dickhead." Louis sighs, rubbing his temple. This is already giving him a headache.
There's no reply to that except for a tiny smile on Harry's face and silence falls over them for a short while.
Then, "How old are you?"
"Twenty-one" Louis says, staring at the wall blankly. Since when does this elevator take so long?
"Me too." Harry says and Louis once again feels his eyes on him. He refuses to look at him right now, though.
"I know," Is all he says, instantly knowing that Harry's small smile widens into a smirk without even having to look at him. He closes his eyes in exasperation. "Don't let it get to your head, I had to read a file about you."
"And what did it say?" Harry asks just when the elevator comes to a halt and dings.
The doors open thankfully, Louis already thought he was going to suffocate with the strong smell of perfume Harry probably used to cover the smell of weed lingering on his clothes. He walks out with fast strides, seeing in the corner of his eyes as Harry follows him through the lobby.
"It said that you're unprofessional, disrespectful, narcissistic, snobby, way too arrogant for being averagely talented..." Louis lists, slowing down when Harry speeds up to be the first at the front door, opening it and holding it for Louis.
"I'm very respectful."
Louis only rolls his eyes and walks out into the night air. The paparazzi have left by now. He grabs his phone and starts typing on it, Harry next to him looking around before he starts talking again. "What are you doing?"
"Getting a cab."
"Not necessary," Harry says and Louis looks up, seeing as Harry fiddles with his car keys.
"You're going to drive?"
"Yeah," Harry only shrugs, walking over to the car that still stands exactly where he pulled up.
"Aren't you still high?" Louis asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest with an impressed look.
"I didn't even smoke today." Harry only says, opening the passengers door for Louis, who reluctantly follows him to the car. "I was only late because the flight attendant was really pretty." He says with a smirk and Louis only scoffs with a disgusted expression, getting into the seat without replying.
Harry closes the door after him and rounds the car, getting in and starting the engine.
Louis stares out at the road and eventually takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, taking one out and lighting it. He sees how Harry glances at him at the movement. "Don't smoke in my car."
Louis huffs out a tiny grey cloud, looking at him. "It's a convertible, grow up."
Harry doesn't say anything to that, only looking at Louis from time to time while he drives and Louis chain smokes. It's what he needs to not reach over the console and punch Harry until he passes out. God, he's so annoyed already.
Silence hangs over them for about ten minutes of the drive to the hotel, only the faint hum of the engine and the other sounds of traffic around them to be heard. Then Harry starts talking once more. "I'm so tired, came straight from LA."
Louis only makes a hmpf sound in reply, not really caring or knowing why Harry is telling him this. He takes the cigarette into his other hand to put his head on the one that's propped up on the opened window to his side.
Harry doesn't shut up though, no matter how much Louis prays for it in his mind. "My stuff's already at the hotel though so I think I'm just gonna fall right into bed. Have you checked in already?"
"Yes." Louis says, almost through gritted teeth.
Harry switches gears, his ringed hand clinking against the shift a little. He doesn't say anything else until they arrive at the hotel. Louis doesn't look at him when he gets out of the car and into the lobby, walking right to the elevator. This time he has to wait for it a little and Harry catches up with him before the doors open. He probably did find a valet this time.
They get into the elevator together, joining three other people, who all look shocked and starstruck the second they recognise Harry. Neither of them says anything though and he almost feels the awkwardness in the air. Harry must know that they all know him. He must know that they're contemplating whether to leave him be or ask for a picture.
But a glance at him shows Louis that Harry's enjoying this. He smiles a little at one of the girls, clearly trying to mess with her head even more.
God, Louis hates him.
The other people all leave the elevator at lower floors, and Louis and Harry are alone for the last few until they reach the ones for the suites.
Louis gets silence only until they're at the door and he grabs his key card, unlocking it and not holding it open for Harry after walking in. He plans to walk straight to his room and lock himself in there until he has to face Harry again tomorrow morning, but Harry walks right after him and braces himself against the doorframe with his arms.
"You're not going to make it easy for me, are you?" He smirks down at Louis with that arrogant face of his. So punchable. Louis' hand twitches before he controls himself.
"Make what easy for you?"
Harry only lowers his voice a little. "Getting you into my bed."
Louis' jaw clenches and his eyes narrow. "Go fuck yourself." He says lowly, slamming the door right in Harry's stupid face.