Larry Stylinson ~ Poor Little Rich Boy AU

10.

Chapter Ten:

 

“I hope you realize I could lose my job over this!”

The dancer, Danielle, who currently should have been stretching off in preparation to curl up inside a model of a cake so that in half an hour’s time she could be wheeled into the luxury lounge and then jump out of it and dance to entertain the rich watchers who had gathered there, frowned at Louis. She was gorgeous; he had to admit – amazingly tight corkscrew curls exploded around her head, falling perfectly into place, and held back from her face with a little silver tiara. She was dressed from head to toe in silver; a silver leotard with fake diamonds sewn to the bodice, which glittered whenever she moved as they caught the light, a stiff, sticky-out silver tutu, thick silver tights, even silver pointe shoes, and she wore silver false eyelashes, decorative silver swirls framing her eyes that looked a lot like butterfly wings, and silver eye-shadow reached all the way up to her eyebrows. As he examined her, she lifted her hand and brushed her hair back, and he saw that her fingernails had been painted silver, too.

The effect ought to have been overwhelming, making her look like an overdressed Christmas tree fairy, but she looked strangely beautiful, almost ethereal dressed completely in silver with a little silver glitter sprinkled on her cheeks, contrasting beautifully with her gorgeous caramel-coloured skin.

“Nah, you won’t,” Louis reassured her, stuffing a couple of notes into her hands. “I know a guy. The guy I’m doing this for, actually. He has connections; I can be sure that you won’t get into trouble over this, don’t you worry.” He was bluffing, but he’d always been a confident liar.

“Oh, really? And tell me, is there a specific reason why you feel the need to leap out of a cake and do ballet to impress this guy? Hmm?” Her hands placed on her slender hips, Danielle gave him a very stern look.

“Uh…he has a kink?” Louis tried, but he knew straight away that she wasn’t buying it. Sighing in defeat, he gave up. “He doesn’t actually know I’m doing this. I’m doing my best to win him over and he isn’t really buying it; and I figured that the best way of doing it was to make him laugh.”

Danielle rolled her brown eyes. “Making a fool of yourself for the sake of love? Where have I heard that before?” But her expression softened. “Oh, go on, then! But if I get fired, then you’d better make good on that promise not to let me get sacked, or I’m officially going to throw a hissy fit!” She looked too good-natured to have a hissy fit, her wildly curly hair bouncing around her shoulders, eyes warm with affection. He tended to have that effect on people; he was so enthusiastic that people instinctively felt friendly towards him, and he sensed that she was a naturally kind person anyway.

Louis kissed her cheerfully on the cheek. “Thanks, Dani! Can I call you Dani? You call me Lou, I’ll call you Dani; like old friends, right? Okay, so do you have one of those leotards for me, or what?” He was excitedly bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

She snorted. “I doubt this would fit you, somehow. But I might be able to find you something.” Delving into the props cupboard, she started rummaging around, looking for a suitable outfit for him. “I honestly don’t know what you’re going to do out there, though; I can’t even teach you a basic routine in the time we’ve got. You’re going to have to do some serious improvising.”

“Oh, that’ll be fine,” answered Louis airily, “I scarcely do anything else, anyway. Planning isn’t really my forte. I’m a spontaneous kind of guy.”

“I’ll bet.” Clearly amused, she produced a stretch of electric blue lycra from the back of the wardrobe, which Louis could clearly see was in the shape of a rather tight leotard. He attempted not to look daunted by the thought of wearing it. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find a tutu in your colour, but I can probably stretch to a pair of pointe shoes; you’re probably around the same size as me, actually. You have really small feet!”