Fine line (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 12 (memories)

My hands shook anxiously as we scrubbed at them with the cheap, pink bathroom soap, the stress of my audition starting to eat away at me already.

I had just auditioned for "The X Factor" one of Britain's greatest talent entertainment shows to date, and by some miracle, I'd gotten in.

Ever since I was born, my family had been convinced I was a little star, destined for something greater than the life I was given. For a while, I'd denied it, humbled myself on the fact that there were so many out there with talent greater than mine. Now was the first time I'd ever really began to believe it.

I was sixteen, still just a child, but somehow the judges had seen genuine potential in me. That had to mean something, right.

I looked up into the mirror, into my own young and nervous eyes, and smiled at myself.

Now, for the first time in forever, I felt like someone who could actually be something.

I felt anxious and nervous, sure, about the road laid out Infront of me, but I also felt the undying urge to start trailing it. I wanted to wonder if, to follow it, this road of potential success. I'd been humble all of my life and still remained to be, but now, as I looked at the reflection infront of me, I saw something more than a boy from Holmes chapel.

For the first time in forever, I was more than just a boy at a local bakery, a family oriented teen, and a innocent bystander to the world around me.

I felt like more.

More than my past, and in route with my future.

I felt a flutter in my chest as I thought about the possibilities ahead of me.

For some unknown reason I felt like something big was coming. Something important, something special. I couldn't explain it, but I could feel it.

Letting out a deep breath, I reached for a paper towel and begs in to dry my hands. Doing this, I imagined myself wiping my slate clean, clearing my past and prepping for the future. I was ready, and in a way I had been for years.

I turned to leave, bracing for whatever was coming next, and abrupt bumped into someone, colliding with them at full force.

"Oops!" I called out bashfully, embarrassed of my inability to pay attention at my surroundings.

As I looked up to face the person, my eyes mocked with those of crystal blue iris's and wide pupils. It was a boy, probably only a few years older than me, light brown hair tugged beneath a knitted maroon beanie.

"Hi," the older boy almost breathed, obviously embarrassed as well.

For a moment, we just looked at each other, and a string and unknown feeling began to boil in my chest.

He - whoever he was - was quite a bit shorter than me, and I found myself looking firm at him as both of us melted in our embarrassment.

He had kind, wide, eyes, not like any I'd ever seen before, but they held a sense of familiarity with me. I couldn't quite understand it.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I'm Harry."

In an awkward attempt to mention the uncomfortability of the situation, I extended my hand at the boy, anxious for him to accept my apology.

"Louis Tomlinson," he let out a light breath as he spoke his name, and a small smile began to firm at his lips. "Don't worry about it mate, it's on me. I never watch where I'm going."

Before I answered, I swore I could feel something hanging in the air, something dense and unpredictable.

Louis took my hand, and shook it lightly before he began to fumble for his phone.

"Hell, what time is it?"

His voice was filled with urgency, and I whipped out my own device in order to help him.

"11:30."

His eyes lit up in a worried blaze and he suddenly seemed anxious, scared even.

"Shit," he mumbled, "my audition is in five."

Louis chuckled softly and nervously, and for some reason I felt compelled to do the same. I couldn't explain it, the sense of comfortability I felt with this boy I'd just met. It didn't make any sense.

At the same time, I wasn't opposed to it. I may have even been enjoying it.

"You're auditioning?"

I felt myself speaking without really even thinking, but I couldn't stop.

"Yeah," Louis spoke softly but still urgently. He seemed to be in a rush to leave, but for some reason he stayed put. "I thought I'd try it out, you never know, yeah?"

"Yeah," I sporks softly. I could feel the corners of my lips turning up into a small smile, and his did the same.

It should've been awkward, this encounter of ours, but for some reason it wasn't.

For some reason, it felt like talking to someone I'd known my whole life.

Finally, Louis took a few steps back and made his way toward the door or the restroom.

"Shit, I have to go."

He was still smiling, but I could basically feel the nerves radiating off of him.

Louis looked up at me once mire, a genuine and kind look in his eyes.

"Wish me luck, Harry."

I felt my face flush.

"Good luck, Louis. I hope you make it."

And with that, he gave me one last smile and he was gone.

I could feel the weight in the air dissipate with his disappearance, and for some reason I felt myself missing it.

I really do hope he gets in.

I wouldn't mind seeing more of Louis Tomlinson.