Fine line (Larry Stylinson)

Chapater one

"On in five Harry!"

As I twist the ring on my middle finger I hear the shrill voice of the stage director calling.

"Got it!" I call back, both eager and anxious.

To be truthful, I've been ready for the past thirty minutes and kept myself busy for the remainder of the time tinkering with my accessories and checking my phone every so often.

This is my first interview since "Fine Line" dropped, and I've been practicing answers to questions I'll inevitably be asked ever since.

I know it's stupid to get anxious over interviews after all this time, but the idea of being put on the spot is still a bit fearful to me. I can prepare and practice all I want, but at the end of the day there are always going to be questions I'm unprepared for, and that idea scares me.

I sigh to myself and push a curl behind my ear, bringing my phone into view once more. No notifications, but social media seems to never run out of issues, so I hop on to twitter and begin surfing the trending page.

I know whst you're thinking - how stereotypical; Another member of the media obsessed with the media. Well, it may be hard to believe but that simply isn't true.

See, my obsession with the media goes far beyond the crave to dive into others' personal lives, and has more to do with knowledge in general.

Remember those questions I fear I'm unprepared for? Well, most of them have to do with the surrounding lives of my peers, other members of the industry and what not. Once I was asked my opinion on some pop culture show named "Riverdale" and I was stuck like a deer in the headlights. The backlash of my ignorance was shocking to say the least and after that, I decided to keep myself updated on pop culture and current news.

I scroll for a few minutes, stopping only as I pass a familiar and unforgettable name amongst the screen.

If not for the colorful backdrop of the image, I dont believe I'd have noticed, but the shocking clarity and vibrance of the phot before me was enough to stop me in my tracks. It was unlike him, at least the him is known last.

"Walls" The first solo album dropped by Louis Tomlinson was making its way up the charts, and fans were making sure everyone heard about it.

Almost reluctantly , a smile krept onto my lips as I studied the image before me. On a brick wall, a picture of the Doncaster lad's face was painted and almost cut in half with what looked to be a rainbow. Surrounding his portrait were the names on his songs and the date of its release. It was a dated picture, no doubt, but still trending none the less.

Louis stood, on the left side of this artwork, smiling almost vibrantly, something I hadn't seen him do in what feels like forever. He looked happy, proud even.

I felt an uneasy feeling somewhere within me as I continued to study the image, a feeling I couldn't quite explain.

The man I was looking at here was different, older, wiser. Mush like myself, it seemed as if Louis had grown, and Silently, I praised him for this.

I hadn't seen him since - well let's just say it's been a while - and the image of him sent a shock of familiarity through me I didn't know I still held.

Almost unwillingly I zoom in to the photo, focusing only on the man himself and as my eyes register on something, a shock runs through my body.

Is that..is that a ring on is finger?

"You ready, styles?"

The shock of James's voices causes me to jump almost out of my skin, and I fumble to exit the app and turn my phone off.

"Yeah-yes. Yes, I'm ready."

James laughs, obviously amused at my shocked demeaned, and I feel the blood rushing immediately to my cheeks.

"You nervous Harry?"

I wouldn't say nervous exactly. Confused, on the other hand...

"Not at all. Let's kill this."