
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1105441.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Louis_Tomlinson/Harry_Styles, Liam_Payne/Zayn_Malik
  Character:
      Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson, Liam_Payne, Niall_Horan, Zayn_Malik, Nick
      Grimshaw
  Additional Tags:
      Sex, Prostitution, alternative_universe, larry_stylinson_-_Freeform, ziam
      palik_-_Freeform, Drugs, The_best_fucking_story_you_will_ever_read,
      newspaper, AU, Substance_Abuse, Drinking
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-27 Updated: 2014-01-20 Chapters: 2/? Words: 2589
****** Fragile as Newsprint ******
by Bridgetd2
Summary
     The one where Louis is a local theater company director and Harry is
     a journalist. The one where Zayn is an actor and Liam is a publisher.
     The one where Niall is a sound engineer who likes to stir things up.
     And the one where due to a article in the Liverpool Tribute, love is
     created.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter 1
L
Louis doesn't remember the last time he's had the "pleasure" of waking up to a
phone call. Hell, he doesn't remember the last time he's actually received a
phone call from someone beside his mum. Zayn usually just texts him the few
words of wisdom he has to inform Louis of and Niall emails, if that.
So when Louis' eyes are forced open to see the sun shine from the corner of his
window on a early Monday morning, he's confused (mostly pissed, though) to say
the least. He groans with disgust at the wretched bell tower ringtone that
echoes deafeningly in his small flat. Why the fuck did he choose that fucking
ringtone? Fuck this. He sits up in bed, grabbing the phone so it would shit the
hell up. Sighing, he pushes in the talk button after seeing the caller is
Unknown.
"Hello?" He doesn't put too much enthusiasm into his voice considering the fact
that it's 8 AM and he's still fucking pissed at the bells.
"Louis Tomlinson? Is this Louis Tomlinson?" The voice on the other end
questions. He has a deep voice that just screams kind and friendly. The kind of
people Louis hates.
"Speaking?"
"Mr. Tomlinson-"
"Louis."
"Louis, this is Liam Payne. I'm the editor of the Art section in The Liverpool
Tribute and I was just wondering if I could talk to you about a potential
article about your theatre company."
Louis has heard of the paper before, seen it in the hands of some of the
regular at Starbucks, and used it as protection while painting various props
and things. To be fair, he's barely reads unless reading scripts counts. He
wasn't really untreated in hearing about the local deaths and robberies in
Liverpool, seeing polls about who should be the next Prime Minister, that type
of bullshit. But although he pretty much despised newspapers, is ears did peek
up when he heard theatre company.
The Liverpool Theatre Company was Louis' pride and joy. The way he felt about
it was the way some feel about their pets. Or children. He loves the feeling of
having something that's HIS. When he was younger, his mum always used to tell
him that when he gets older, he should find a career that he enjoys going every
day. It shouldn't feel like a job. Louis has had his fair share of not
following his mum's advice (many times doing the complete opposite) but this
was one thing he did actually do and he has to say he's damn proud. After uni,
Louis had sort of stumbled upon the theatre by mistake. It was raining hard one
afternoon Louis was job searching and of course he didn't have a car. He
decided to walk the 2 miles back to his new flat. Soon enough, the rain started
coming down hard with a mixture of lightning, Louis' biggest fear. The minute
he saw the clash in the sky, he jumped to the nearest building which just
happened to be the LTC. And luckily enough, the were looking for a new director
for their fall show, "Jesus Christ Superstar". It was the first musical the
company had ever put on, and their previous director wasn't qualified in that
area. But oh, here enters Louis with his Major in theater and his Minor in
music. He took the job right away. The play was a smashing success and Louis
has been putting in amazing musicals for the past 2 years.
The company is far from Broadway, but they do get many actors wanting to try
out and more times than none the shows have been sold out. Louis had had the
best time working there and without he would have never been able to experience
certain things, like make "Hamlet" a musical, or star "Les Miserables" as
Cosette, due to the fact she threw up on stage and he hadn't castes an
understudy. He also would have never met Niall and Zayn.
Louis was the kind of person to have hundreds friends that knew his name,
cackled at his wit, and bought him a beer (occasionally), but not have one who
ever even asked how he day was. It wasn't completely humanity's fault, though.
Louis wasn't exactly the bet person to sit down with and have a conversation
about life. He did have a big heart, although it was hidden under his sleeve,
that he just wished someone would be able to recognize. Meeting Zayn and Niall
sort of changes that.
He remembers the first time he saw the god that is Zayn Malik. He was holding
tryouts for Legally Blonde and Zayn decided to take a go at Warner. He sang
Louis' all time favorite song, Big Yellow Taxi-Counting Crows version of
course- and Louis spent the entire rest of the night talking with him about
music and life. It was a fantastic evening, but sadly (not really), the other
people who were supposed to be auditioning for Warner never got the chance.
They left with a flip of their scarf. Zayn got the role by default, but Louis
was defiantly not complaining.
Zayn was the type of guy everyone wanted to be. His hair was like black ink,
his cheekbones as sharp as a dagger, and his voice mimicked angels. They also
both had a lot in common. Both were fond in the same sex (not a huge surprise
considering he was a guy who enjoyed theater), both loved rock, and both had
their share of highness in their lifetime. They spent the whole play season
hanging out, laughing, getting high occasionally, and really just talking. It
was all so new to Louis, having someone who looked at him like he actually gave
a crap about what he has to say. And although for a period of one week Louis
had-after had Zayn hit the high note in "Somebody to Love" one night during
karaoke in Half Pint Tavern- developed a hard core crush, it was over before it
really began. It didn't really work like that with the two. Of them.
The following year Niall had joined the theatre company as a sound engineer.
The three of them connected quickly, and often spent there weekends at Half
Pint getting drunk of their ass. It was August now, and the three of them were
preparing for the fall show this year, "Grease". It was Louis' absolute
favorite show and Zayn as Danny was almost as hot Leo playing Jack. It was safe
to say Louis was absolutely ecstatic and was buzzing with anticipation for
September when everything would begin.
Although Louis did love the company with his whole heart and they did do pretty
well, he knew it couldn't hurt for some extra press. And as much as he hated
the idea of newspaper and writing, people in the city did seem to love reading
the Tribute. What the hell.
"What did you have in mind Liam?"
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Z
"Zayn fucking Malik, have I told you how much I love life recently?"
Great. Just great. He should have guessed something was wrong the minute he saw
the name Louis Tomlinson flash on his phone screen. Louis never calls. And
Louis happy? He must either be high or he just got laid because Louis Tomlinson
happy is about as rare as ligers.
"Did you just get fucked by a porn star mate? That or you went overboard with
the weed."
"Zayn, my boy! Don't be silly! Can't a man just be happy without being accused
of foul deeds?" Louis questioned with a innocent tone to his voice. Bastard.
"A man can, you can't."
"Fine. You get me. But I have the best news. You know that blasted newspaper
the Tribute?"
Oh course Zayn knew the tribute. He's a artist, a writer, an actor. What kind
of creative person doesn't read the newspaper? Zayn Malik, that's who. He
doesn't know why he's so set on reading it. Maybe he feels he's not
sophisticated unless he does. Whatever the reason, Zayn just can't seem to ever
want to pick the thing up.
"Heard of it, yeah. Go on."
"Well this morning I was awakened by the lovely and beautiful sounds of my
wonderful phone singing the melodic sound of fucking church bells."
"Change your ringtone, twat."
"Not the point cheek knife. The point is that lovely call came from Liam Payne
who is the editor of the Art section. He wants to so a special about the
company!"
"That's wicked mate! When?"
"He has this whole little plan. Starting on Sunday September 15th and
continuing every Sunday until the show starts, they are going to publish a
little article explains the process of the show! They are going to send a
journalist here and everything! Can you believe it mate?"
Zayn really couldn't. This would be great press for the company and it would
mean an even bigger audience at the show.
"This is sick Louis. Fuck, I can't believe it! Wait till Niall hears. What's
the journalist's name?"
"Something cool uh, Henry, Hank, um,-" Louis stutters for a bit, struggling
with various H names. Zayn chuckles. He likes seeing Louis this excited over
something. It makes him happy.
"Harry! It's Harry!"
Harry.
Well Harry, welcome to the island of misfit toys.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
HS
It wasn't Harry's goal really. He never intended to ever really write for a
living. It was always sort if a hobby for him. The only reason he actually took
the job at the Tribute because his mother was the paper's biggest fan and Harry
needed money. Quick.
When he graduated from uni, he found himself living with an old roommate, Nick
Grimshaw. They shared the flat rent evenly and things were pretty good. That is
until Nick decided his life calling was to be a male prostitute.
It was fine, really for awhile. But soon, the "clients" started coming to their
flat instead. Harry remembers the first time when he came home at night after
working the evening shift in the cinema. He remembers hearing the moans echoing
through the halls and the word "fuck" being used way too much. He remembers
walking into Nick's room, seeing him lying there, moaning like a proper porn
star, getting majorly pounded into by a bloke with nipple rings and a beer
belly. And as much as Harry was disgusted, he really needed a flat mate because
he knew he couldn't afford to live alone. He decided not to mention anything to
Nick. Rookie mistake.
The following weekend, Harry came home from his second job at Liverpool Diner
where he was a waiter. It was midday, around 1, and he was whipped because he
had worked a double shift last night at the cinema and didn't have time to
sleep before heading to the diner. He walked into his room, half asleep, only
to find the infamous Nick Grimshaw on top of some young twink who looked to be
about 16. Various words were being exchanged such as "So tight for me." and
"Love your big cock." All the meanwhile they were fucking on HARRY'S bed. That
was the last straw.
Harry had walked-no ran-out the door after grabbing his work bag on the couch
that had a few clothes. He hopped in his car and drove and drove until he found
himself in front of his mum's house. He took a deep breath before entering the
house he had spent most of his 22 years of life in.
His mom had been overjoyed, of course. But after hugs and kisses were
exchanged, it came right down to why the fuck Harry was in Holmes Chapel on a
Sunday night when he barely bothered to visit on holidays.
It was pretty hard to tell the story without being graphic, but then again he
was talking to his mum. He left out the details of the way Nick groaned like a
porn star and the way he pounded into the boy on Harry's bed like a man killing
machine.
His mother gave him a horribly disapproving face after Harry explained he
stayed after the first night. Harry hated when she made that face. She would
furrow her brows and frown and shake her head and sigh. He would automatically
be immensely filled with guilt and regret.
But after Harry finished, Anne took her son into her arms and let him cry. Only
a little. Harry felt terribly sorry for himself. He had no flat, no money, and
was sure to get sacked from the cinema since he hadn't bothered to show up at
his shift today. He had already been on thin ice with the manager after the
incident involving popcorn and a pretty blonde had occurred last week. Wasn't
the best move Harry's ever made.
He stayed with his mum for the next few days; only leaving his bed to eat and
use the loo. On Thursday morning,
Harry went down to the kitchen to gather his bowl of daily wheaties when his
mother intercepted him.
"Harry, there's an opening in the paper."
Harry groaned and shook his head.
"That paper is bullshit mum, I'm not working there."
Anne scowled at Harry's language but chose to ignore it.
"Look, its a special position Harry. They're looking for a writer to follow the
Fall Musical at the LPC! It's a bit like a what's going on. You used to love it
there! Remember we saw a Christmas Carol?
"Mum, that was ages ago." But even though he rolled his eyes, Harry was a bit
interested. He did enjoy the company and it would be a good opportunity to
write a bit. Plus if he didn't get money soon, well he didn't know what would
happen.
What the hell.
"What do I need to do?"
•••
Harry tapped his foot anxiously in Mr. Payne's office. He fixed his suit yet
again and silently complimented his amazing styles. Hair brushed away from his
eyes, black blazer and white shirt, boots, and a hot smile.
Harry had phoned in to schedule an interview right away. He had prepared a
whole little plot to seduce the editor who he had assumed was a woman. When the
assistant who couldn't keep her eyes off him and revealed too much cleavage led
him in the room of Liam Payne, Arts Editor in the Tribute, needless to say
Harry panicked. He sat wondering what he was going to fucking do when the door
opened.
In walked a man with Carmel hair and gorgeous brown eyes. Stubble surrounded
his face and his lips pursed together seriously. He wore a suit and tie with
slacks and some type of loafers. Needless to say, he was gorgeous. He looked
like some type of model. Harry was flustered because he had been with blokes
before but never really looked at them like this. This guy was hot.
"Harry Styles, correct?"
The interview dragged on but for the most part, Harry was pretty confident.
After waiting nervously for a week, Harry finally received a call while at the
gym. Bloody perfect.
"Hel- Hello?" Harry heavily breathed.
"Yes, Harry? This is Liam Payne from the Tribute."
"Hi."
"Well Harry, I'm pleased to inform you that you have the job. If you could
start in about two weeks, you will be going to rehearsals and talking to the
director."
"Thank you. Uh, Mr. Payne?
"Liam."
"Liam what is his name?"
"Whose?"
"The director."
"Oh, uh Louis Tomlinson."
Louis. Harry liked that.
Chapter End Notes
     I KNOW I DIDNT UPDATE
     ENJOY
End Notes
     Please leave opinions!! Also available to read on Wattpad! Username:
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     Sorta sucks I know
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