"Louis, your phone just went off!" Harry calls out to Louis from the kitchen, where Harry is cooking dinner. Louis had gone into the living room to watch a football game.
"Be right there—Jesus fuck, get it in!" Louis yells at the telly, distracted.
"Louis!" Harry says, dragging out the ee sound at the end.
"Coming, sorry." Louis replies, walking into the kitchen. "They almost had it; they almost got a goal!"
"Almost," Harry teases.
"Shut up." Louis pouts. "They're only losing by a little bit, they can still win." he insists.
"Whatever you say..." Harry says, handing Louis his phone.
"There's still twenty minutes le—oh my god." Louis' jaw drops as he looks at his phone.
"What? What is it?" Harry questions, trying to get a glance at whatever is on Louis' screen.
Louis, too awestruck to say anything, tilts the screen towards his boyfriend, so he can read, too. It says:
Dear Mr. Tomlinson,
Your film script has grabbed our attention, and we would like to buy filming rights to it. Here at Columbia Pictures Industry Inc., we put pride into our movies. We feel like your script has mighty potential. If you are interested, read on below and contact us at the number provided.
Below that, there are pages of information on all the legalities and things, but Louis is too excited to read them all now.
"Can you believe this? Columbia Pictures wants filming rights to my movie!" Louis cheers, kissing Harry and then jumping around a little.
"Read the rest of it, Lou, then get back to them!" Harry presses, until Louis sits down at the kitchen table and reads the rest, but not without his knee bouncing around to get the excess energy out of him.
When Louis continues to read, his wild smile morphs into a frown, and his eyebrows furrow.
"What's up, babe?" Harry asks with a concerned look on his face. While Louis had been reading, Harry finished cooking lunch: grilled cheese sandwiches. He sets a plate in front of Louis.
"It says here that... they don't—they don't want me to be—play the main character, like I had planned." Louis says slowly, like he's trying to comprehend what he's saying as he's saying it.
"Well, why not?"
"They said that I... I don't fit the image they have in mind." Louis pauses, getting angry. "But, I wrote out the character just like me! I described him just like me!"
"Who do they want to play him?"
"Wait a second," Louis says before reading more, hoping it will say who they do have in mind for the part. "It doesn't say."
"Oh. Call and ask?" Harry suggests.
"Maybe. I don't know, I was really looking forward to playing a part in it. I won't even be able to direct it!" Louis cries, so Harry hugs him.
"Eat first, then decide." Harry says, sitting across from his boyfriend at the table.
Then, Louis says "Oh, shit!"
"Wh—"
"Who won the match?!" He runs into the living room, just in time to see the final moments of the match play out.
"Yes! YES! Run with it! Kick it!" Harry can hear Louis from the other room. "YES!! Another win for the Doncaster Rovers!"
Louis is smiling when he comes back into the kitchen, plops onto his chair, and stuffs his sandwich into his mouth. "We won." He says through the food.
"I know, they could probably hear you cheering in America!" Harry teases, and Louis flips him off. Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes.
They continue to eat in silence, until Louis finishes and says "I'm going to call them."
"Good." Harry says. "This is a chance you shouldn't pass up."
"I know, I know." Louis sighs, taking out his phone and dialing the number he had received in the earlier email.
After a few rings, music begins to play. A robotic voice says, "You are on hold. Please wait."
"I'm on fuckin' hold." Louis groans, putting his phone on speaker and setting it on the table.
"It's nice music." Harry says, trying to hum along to the piano that's playing.
"You're so weird, you know that?"
"Yes, and I embrace it!" Harry replies, taking Louis' hand and spinning him around the kitchen to the music.
After some time of just Louis being twirled around by his goofy boyfriend, the music stops and a "Hello?" rings through the room. Louis scrambles to the phone.
"Hello!" Louis breathes into the phone, then pulls the phone away from his mouth a little so it won't sound disgusting.
"How can I be of assistance?" Someone, a receptionist of some sort, Louis deducts, asks.
"I'm Louis Tomlinson... I got an email this morning..." Louis continues to explain his situation to the person on the other end of the line. Eventually, he gets on the line with someone else.
"Hello, Mr. Tomlinson—"
"Louis." Louis corrects, as he hates formal greetings.
"Alright.. Hello, Louis, you're contacting about your movie?"
"Yes."
The person on the line explains some things that Louis already knew, and then it's time for Louis to ask questions.
"Would you happen to have any idea who the lead role would be played by?"
"Well, usually there're auditions... but for your movie our company already has someone in mind."
"And that is?"
"Harry Styles."
✖ ✖ ✖
so as you can see i have no clue how getting movies... bought, made, whatever... works
ok but if you know.. you can tell me in the comments or whatever, just don't undermine me by calling me "hun" or anything because i'm not stupid, i just don't master in the arts of movie production, ok ok i write fuckin fanfiction
ok ily bye
[edited]
YOU ARE READING
YouTube ➸ Larry Stylinson
Fanfictionwhere two famous youtubers deal with stolen cars, crazy girlfriends and their crazy fathers, movies, tea parties, traveling, and quite possibly, falling in love.
