Chapter Text
Harry sighed, shutting the front door behind him, throwing his heavy rucksack to the floor. He shrugged off the stripey shirt he’d been wearing over a plain white t-shirt all day, hanging it up on the banister before he walked through to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing the big bottle of apple juice his mum always kept in the door. He unscrewed the cap and downed half the bottle before wiping off his mouth of the back of his hand, and when he shut the door, he jumped when he saw Anne stood there, hands on her hips, frowning at her son.
“What?” Harry said, walking over to the cupboard and grabbing out his bag of pistachio nuts, shaking out a few into his hand as Anne watched on.
“Harry, use a glass. It’s manners, love. Your sister and I have to share that, and now it’s got your germs over it.”
“Sorry,” Harry said through his mouthful of food, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, grabbing an apple from the bowl and started to peel it with the knife his mum handed him. “How was work? Is that guy Tony still being a twat? Cos if he is, Mum, I’m going to have to come and have a word with him.”
“Such a sweetheart,” Anne said, ruffling his hair, making Harry cringe. “No, he’s okay. I think I’m old enough to fight my own battles though, alright? I’m a big girl, Harry.”
“Well, yeah, but you’re my Mum and no-one gets to put you down and disrespect you without answering to me. I mean it, Mum, you need to tell me.”
“Thank you darling.” Anne opened the fridge, deciding what to make for dinner when she turned, rolling her eyes at the noise she could hear in the background. “Well, that’s dinner for three then…”
“Good afternoon Styles people!” came a booming Irish voice, and Anne laughed as Niall grabbed her from behind, hugging her waist and kissing on top of the head in a cosy gesture Harry had come to love from his friend. Niall wandered over and kissed Harry too for a second before Harry batted him away. “And how are you today, Mama Styles?”
“Very well, Niall, love. You? I assume you’re here for dinner?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to any one of your beautiful home made dishes, Anne, thank you so much for the kind offer.”
Harry just rolled his eyes, knowing Niall really didn't need to kiss his mum’s ass to get an invitation to dinner, it always went unsaid that Niall was welcome at his place whenever he wanted, and the same went for Harry at the Horan residence. They’d been best friends since they were five, and consequently, they lived in and out of each other’s houses, never knocking when they walked in. “How did you do on the exam then?” Harry asked, watching as Niall raided the cupboards, emerging victorious with a new packet of ginger nuts.
“Bloody did it, mate, 85%!” Niall said, and Harry quickly high-fived him. “Really chuffed, you know how much effort I put into that so I’m really pleased. Hard work does pay off, who knew?!
“Erm, me?” Harry said, knowing he had to work his butt off for every good grade he got. “What you here for then? On your own tonight?”
“Yeah, but that’s not why…” Niall said cryptically, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry. “You saw the news about X Factor, right?”
“No…” Harry said, grabbing his phone from where he’d chucked it onto the table. “What is it?”
“I’ll let you see for yourself,” Niall muttered, pushing himself up from the table. “Oh Anne, let me help you with that.” Harry watched over the top of his phone screen as Niall stood next to his mum, peeling, slicing and dicing vegetables like he was her own son, and his heart felt warm at what a great best friend he had. He headed over to one of the usual gossip sites he professed to everyone he never visited, but of course, Niall knew better.
He clicked a few links until he stumbled upon the section he needed, and then, it felt like his blood ran cold. He ran his tongue over his lips at the words in front of him, and Niall must have sensed something was up as he whirled around, vegetable knife in his hand.
“I’ll take that,” Anne muttered, gently removing the knife from Niall’s grasp before he could do any damage, pushing him towards Harry who still looked stunned. “Harry? Everything okay?”
“Is this- is this real?” Harry asked Niall, and he just nodded, a big smile on his face. “I mean… I never - oh my god, Ni.”
“You’ve got to do it, Harry. Just to see him in the flesh, if nothing else.”
“No. No fucking way. I can’t even-”
“Yes, you can. You’ve got the voice, you’re hot… what more do they want?” Harry cocked an eyebrow at that last remark, and Niall smacked his arm, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m into girls, not dick, but objectively Haz, you’re a handsome boy. Come on… you’ve wanted to do it for years. This is a sign, surely?”
“What is it, then?” Anne asked, and when Harry flipped around to show her, even her eyes widened, understanding immediately the signficance of the article. “Okay, wow. Didn't see that one coming. But Niall’s right, love. You’ve been wanting to audition for a long time, maybe this would be a good opportunity to do what you really want, and meet him too?”
“Christ. What if he said no, though? I don’t think I’d ever get over the humiliation,” Harry mumbled, rereading the article, as if the last thirty seconds would have changed any of the words swimming around in front of him on his phone screen. He opened the gallery then, flicking through the photos of the press conference that had taken place while he was in his last lecture of the day, and his heart melted at the array of pictures he saw, fingers pinching the screen to zoom in on various parts… his clothes, his hair and Harry’s favourite part… his tattoos. “I don’t think I can. I really don’t.”
Niall sighed and took a seat next to Harry, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve wanted to audition since you were sixteen, Harry. You’re more than good enough. I don’t just say this as your best friend, but as a person with ears. You have an amazing voice, you sing with real emotion, and I could listen to you for days. If you don’t go for it now, you’ll regret it.”
Harry sighed, running his hands through his long curls. It had been too long since he’d had a haircut and as much as he knew it needed doing, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. He’d always fancied seeing what he looked like with long hair, and he felt like now he was at Uni and could be himself, it was the time to discover these things about himself. He could tell Anne was listening in as she chopped the final few vegetables for their risotto, and he just stared into Niall’s baby blue eyes for a moment.
“Mum? What do you think? If I do this and things happen, it affects you too…”
“Harry, I want what makes you happy, you know that, love. I know how much you love music. As good as you are at Uni, your heart isn’t in it and I know that. Music and singing has always been your dream. Who knows, this could be the start of everything, or it could just be one amazing day and an experience you will never forget. But if you don’t try, you will never know, and I know how much you hate living with regrets. Like Niall said, you will regret it if you don’t at least go for it.”
“I’ll think about it,” Harry mused, flipping through the photos again, covertly saving a couple of them, thinking they’d be quite good material later on. “For now, let me set the table, and Ni, would you read over this essay I finished at the library earlier? I’ve got to submit it later on, so if you could glance over it, I’d appreciate it.”
“Well, since your mum’s making her magic risotto, I can’t really say no, can I?” Niall teased, pulling out one of the drawers under the table and passing the pile of placemats to Harry as the pair worked to set the table for three. “No Gems tonight?”
“Nope, she’s working late, had to take a late shift because they had a horrible case come in last night apparently,” Harry said. His sister was a social worker, and often took on the horrific cases no-one else had the stomach to deal with. All she had said this morning as she’d stood at the worktop, sipping on a strong black coffee was that there was a horrible abuse case forwarded to them last night, and the staff who had dealt with it needed a bit of time off to deal with the fallout of what they’d seen. Harry couldn’t even imagine the horrors his big sister had to deal with, and just hugged her until she had to leave, mumbling how proud he was of her into her ear, making her smile.
“Okey doke,” Niall said, passing Harry three water glasses. “Anything I can do, Anne?”
“No, love. Go off with Harry, I’ll give you a shout when dinner’s up.” Harry blew his mum as a kiss as he walked upstairs with Niall, grabbing his bag from where it was still slumped in the hallway, now next to Niall’s own bag. Niall took a seat on Harry’s bed as he usually did, and Harry sat at his desk, firing up his Mac that his Mum and Gemma had clubbed together to get him for a birthday and Christmas present the year before he started University.
“Okay, here’s the doc,” Harry said, passing Niall his laptop. He sat on his phone again while his friend read, keeping things quiet so he could concentrate. The more he read that article, the more excited he felt. There had been rumours for weeks that he might be coming to The X Factor as a judge, but Harry had tried not to get his hopes up until things were confirmed. Now that they were, it all felt a little overwhelming, and he couldn’t quite believe this was truly happening.
He’d been to so many of his concerts, he’d lost count. He’d first become a fan when he was an impressionable thirteen year old boy, coming to terms with his sexuality, and he’d been his first crush. Harry had his posters on his wall, the inside of his wardrobe, even on his ceiling until Anne had taken exception to that and pulled it down. He was his phone wallpaper for far too long, was the subject of one too many wet dreams, and now, the thought of finally seeing him just metres away felt like a lot.
He clicked off, heading to his Twitter app for a minute, flying through his feed to see what people’s opinions were of him being picked as a judge. For the most part, they seemed happy, glad that they’d be getting new pictures of him all the times, and that he could put his talent to good use while his band were on a break. There were a few who felt it wasn’t the right career move, but Harry just felt that it was a good decision, that he was widening the scope of what he could do, and deep down, Harry knew he would be amazing at it. It was then he realised he knew what he had to do.
“I’m gonna do it,” he said quietly, disturbing Niall from his reading for a second.
“Okay,” Niall said, nodding his head before doing a double-take, eyes widening as he looked at Harry, jaw dropped in shock. “Shit, you said you’re gonna do it? For real? Like, you’re gonna actually audition?”
“Yeah, I think so. Gotta take a chance, right?” His heart was already pounding at the thought of it, and he grabbed his laptop from Niall, opening Chrome before he changed his mind. He clicked on the local train tickets website, and put in the dates for the auditions closest to his house, which were at the Manchester Arena just two weeks away. Harry double-checked with his Uni calendar, pleased to see they were officially on summer break by then, so it wasn’t going to interefere.
“Hey, no, two tickets, I’m coming with ya,” Niall said, and Harry nodded, clicking the buttons and tapping in his payment information. It was money he didn't really have to spare at the moment, his student loan dwindling to nothing but he already planned on going down to the pre-school where he worked during the holidays for the clubs there, begging for more shifts than he usually did to cover the costs. He hesitated over the pay button for a second, knowing there would be no backing out if he did. Niall reached over and clicked the button, Harry just staring as the payment went through, a confirmation page lighting up the screen.
“Oh fuck,” he mumbled, his head swimming with thoughts, heart racing and his palms felt sweaty. He turned to look at Niall, thinking it was too late to regret anything now. “I’m going. I’m fucking auditioning for The X Factor.”
“Yeah, y’are!” Niall cried, hugging Harry quickly. “And you’re gonna smash it. Now we need to decide on your song and get rehearsing. Harry? Earth to Harry…” Niall waved his hand in front of Harry’s face a few times, bringing him back to earth.
“Sorry, I just-” he cleared his throat and gripped Niall’s hands, resting them on his thighs. “I’m gonna see him Ni.”
“You are,” Niall nodded, matching Harry’s excited grin with his own.
“Holy shit,” Harry mumbled again. “I’m gonna see him. I’m going to sing to him, Niall. I’m going to sing to Louis fucking Tomlinson.”
~***~
“Aww, thank you so much,” Louis said, grinning at the fan who had just told him he was going to be the best judge she’d ever seen, and when the cameras turned off him, he rolled his eyes. He felt nervous about this, no doubt about it. He now held people’s futures in his hands, and to him, that was a huge thing. He’d been excited when he’d been asked by Simon Cowell to be the latest judge on The X Factor, thinking he could make a difference and really change someone’s life, the way his own had been changed so easily just 6 years ago.
But now? Now it was all real, it felt a little much. He waved to the small crowd of diehard fans that had hung around and slipped off, navigating the corridors to find a bathroom to lock himself into. Once he did, he sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and pulled out his phone, dialling the number of the one person who could talk him down from anything, no matter how outwardly different they seemed to everyone.
“Li?” Louis said softly as the call was answered, and he felt a rush of relief flood through him at the familiar voice on the other end of the line. “Tell me I’ve done the right thing here, mate. I just- I feel a bit like it’s a lot I’ve signed up for. These people… they’re relying on me to change their life and what if… what if I make bad decisions?”
“Hey, come on man, you know we talked about this. You have great vision, you have a good ear for real talent, and you’re just a bloody fucking great guy who everyone is gonna love and want to impress. More than that, you know this industry, you know how hard it can be and you’re going to be great for whoever is lucky enough to get you as their mentor.”
Louis blushed, and was pleased Liam couldn’t see his face. His bandmate was now his go-to, the one who could talk him down from a ledge, and Louis trusted his opinion more than anyone else’s in the world. “Thanks, mate. Just… seeing those fans and hearing them say what a great job I’m gonna do… feels like a lot of pressure, you know? I never think about it when I watch this stuff on telly, but being this side of it, well.”
“I know, but you’ve got me, and you’ve got Zayn and everyone else who is on your side,” Liam continued through the line, shushing someone in the background. “I gotta go mate, okay? But go out there and do your best, that’s all anyone can ask. And remember, there’s a fuck load of fans behind you and this decision, okay? Show ‘em their support is worth the world, and impress the hell out of them.”
“Will do, thanks Li. Love ya, bud.” He quickly ended the call with Liam, used the loo and headed out into the bathroom again, washing his hands and drying them on a rough paper towel from the dispenser on the wall. The door swung open, and one of his fans stumbled in, mouth gaping as he realised who was stood in front of him. “Alright there?”
“Yeah, just… you’re amazing,” the young boy said, and Louis chuckled, stepping forward to shake his hand. “Can I have a quick picture?”
“Sure,” Louis said, always keen to keep his fans happy. After all, if they didn't support him and the band as fiercely as they did, he wouldn’t be here, where he was today, about to make some other kid’s dream come true. “Let me do it, yeah?” The boy nodded and handed Louis his phone, blushing when he realised Louis must have clocked his wallpaper, a shirtless and sweaty Louis from a photoshoot a few years ago with the band. “Smile then.”
He grinned at the camera and pressed the button a few times, allowing the boy to check them before he headed off, thanking him again for his kind words, and smiled slightly at the rising screams as he stepped back into the room. “Okay, Louis, it’s time for the photocall. Are you ready?”
“Sure am,” Louis replied, nodding firmly, trying to look like he was in control of his feelings. He was led by a man with an official looking clipboard into another room filled with row after row of photographers, an ITV X Factor backdrop set up for them. He took a few deep breaths, smiling at his fellow judges Jason, Beth and Simon, and shoved his hands into his pockets as they started walking up onto the little platform in front of them, cameras whirring, blinded momentarily by the array of flashes in front of him.
They grinned widely at the cameras, changing their gazes from person to person, making sure everyone got the money shot. He felt Simon’s hand come to rest on his shoulder, a reassuring touch that Louis wanted to oddly shrug off, feeling like he could do this now. His grin broadened as he pushed his shoulders back, feet apart and he felt on top of the world. Yes, people’s hopes and dreams were in his hands, and he was going to do his damndest to make as many of them come true as he could.
A few hours later, he flopped backwards into his hotel bed, still wearing the clothes he’d chosen for the press conference earlier that day, annoying the stylist who insisted he should change into a shirt and skinny jeans. Louis had refused, saying he wanted to start as he meant to go on, and that meant being himself, and people could either like it or lump it.
He frowned at the darkness, feeling annoyed when he saw his lightbulb had blown, and picked up his phone, scrolling through Twitter. The messages of support made him grin, and he liked a few, knowing it would send his fans into a tizzy to even get that little acknowledgement from him. He had promised a little video earlier explaining everything, so he opened the camera app, sat up so he could be seen and started talking from the heart, unrehearsed. He always felt that was the best way, and he knew his fans loved him for it, and he wasn’t going to start changing now, just for the sake of publicity for the show.
“Hello. Sorry it’s a bit dark, my lightbulb’s blown in my hotel room, need to get that sorted. I just wanted to make a little video message to clear up a few things…” He carried on talking for just over a minute, reassuring the fans that the band would be back, that he was just pursuing solo projects like the other boys while they took a break, and this was too great an opportunity to pass up. “See you all soon.”
He clicked off, watched the video back and quickly posted it before he could change his mind. He was sure he would now get a text, saying he was in trouble for sending something out into the big wide world without having it run past The X Factor PR team, but he didn't care. His fans, his Twitter, his video. The likes and retweets quickly mounted up, and Louis sat reading through as many of the comments as he could, pleased to see how supportive and typically his amazing his fans were being.
There was a knock on his door, and Louis kicked his trainers out of the way as he stumbled across the plush carpet, peering through the peephole in the door before opening it and barrelling into the arms of the man on the other side of the door. He allowed himself to be held for a moment until the other man gently pulled him off, pushing him backwards through the open door until they fell on the bed. Louis wriggled around until he was comfortably in the other man’s arms and grinned up at him.
“Thanks for coming, Z,” he said, letting the other man kiss the crown of his head. “Missed you, mate.”
“Only for you would I jet back from holiday and come straight to some shitty hotel just for a hug,” Zayn quipped, rolling his eyes but still holding the other man close to him. “How’d it go, anyway? All good?”
“Yeah, well. I ended up running away to the loo and called Li cos I proper fucking freaked out for a minute, but overall. Yeah. They kept the questions professional and not about my personal life which is always a bonus, and Si wasn’t absolutely awful. Just gonna keep my head down and get on with the job, I think, avoid all the shit that surrounds this. I’m here to do a job, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“That’s my boy,” Zayn said, ruffling Louis’ hair until the older man pulled away, feigning annoyance until they both burst out laughing. “What’s the plan now, then? Netflix and chill?”
Louis gave him a funny look, cocking his eyebrow and trying not to laugh at Zayn’s slip. “You really, seriously don’t have a clue what that means, do you?”
“Um, yeah I do, Lou. Watch Netflix and chill out. No? What am I missing?”
“Never mind. Never stop being you, Z,” Louis said, reaching behind him for the remote control, flicking on the telly only to see himself on the entertainment section of the news, posing in front of the hoards of gathered photographers, then standing in a line with his fellow judges.
“Ah, my tiny Tommo,” Zayn said, crying out when Louis elbowed him hard in the ribs. If there was one thing that pissed Louis more than any other, it was quips about his size, even if he knew they were done in jest like Zayn always did. “Sorry. Seriously, though. You look good. You know I’ve always liked you with the clean shaven look.”
Louis rubbed at his face then, still a little unsure. He felt too much like a prepubescent school boy when he’d shaved. He far preferred a bit of scruff on his own face, liked the way it highlighted his cheek bones, and his jawline. “Nah. Gonna let it grow out a bit, I think. I might like my men without a beard, Z, but I prefer myself with one. This show okay?”
Zayn shrugged and nodded, getting up to pull off his boots, and throw his jacket on the little armchair in the corner of the room. Louis ripped off his jeans, ignoring the sighs of protest from Zayn and snuggled in under the covers, feeling like he was a teenager back at home again, chilling with Zayn after a busy day at school or college. At times like this, he could easily forget who he was, the job he’d just signed up for and the pressure he felt weighing heavily on his shoulders.
“Shit. I’m actually doing this, aren’t I?” He pondered aloud, Zayn tilting his head to look at Louis then. “I’m gonna sit and judge people, Z. Crush dreams, or make ‘em. Shit. I don’t think I can do this, I-”
“Hey, no. You can. You are gonna be amazing. Do you know how many people have had the strength to come out and be themselves because of you, Louis? People admire you, and look up to you. You’re brave, you’re strong, and everyone loves you, whether they like our music or not, and that’s something special. That’s what you bring to the world, Lou. No matter what happens, they’re gonna love you. You’re the perfect person for the job, I promise you.”
“And that’s why you’re my best mate,” Louis said, laying his head on Zayn’s shoulder. “Just don’t tell Li, okay?” Zayn laughed aloud, pulling the blanket over himself now. “But seriously. I just don’t want to fuck it up. There’s some kid out there whose dream it is to be a singer, probably just sitting in his bedroom, listening to music and singing along. They might be brave enough to come, and what if I shoot them down, tell them it’s not for them?”
“But what if you didn't?” Zayn mused for a moment. “What if you said yes, and made all of their dreams come true? That’s a great thing to be able to give someone, Lou. You could be giving someone everything they’ve ever wanted.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Louis sighed, turning his attention back to the TV. “Pressure, though, you know? I just wanna get it right.”
“You will,” Zayn reassured him. “I believe in you, Lou. Love ya.”
“Love ya too,” Louis said quietly. “X Factor… here I come.”