XVI

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Decadent delirium.

That was Harry, and that was his life. It was a crazy whirlwind of emotions and parties, and paparazzi; Louis could not get enough of it.

He felt like a stalker, watching the man's every move, but there was something captivating about it all. The extravagance of him, and his world. It was a show that Louis had never seen, a song that he had never heard, a scent that he had never smelt.

Two weeks had passed since that party and the words that Zayn had uttered.

You're our last hope.

Louis wished it were true. He wished he could help but these past two weeks had demonstrated one thing: Harry Styles was an untameable, and uncatchable wildfire.

The rockstar would throw himself into everything, no matter the risks. And the word no was not in his vocabulary. Jamie would trail behind, with his head in his hands, as the star would yell at interviewers, or snort cocaine behind cameras. The assistant's maternal nature and concern did seem to have any effect on the rockstar.

Harry and his team had been recording a segment for Factor 28. Louis had sat, silent and compliant, scared to open his mouth. His fellow contestants had also been oddly quiet, obviously sensing the uneasiness in the star's demeanour. The interviewer had turned to Harry and asked about relationship with his mentees. Louis had tensed, knowing that the topic was a sore spot. He tried not to glance in his direction, and instead, focused on the interviewer's muddy brown eyes, full of wonder. She was probably a university graduate, who had just been given her first journalism gig. Harry's gaze flicked towards him, and he tried not to squirm at the scrutiny, and continued to watch the pretty blonde girl, sitting behind the camera. He waited for the generic media trained answer to spill out Harry's mouth, emotionless, but that did not come. Instead he felt the atmosphere in the studio shift and Harry cleared his throat.

"I really do not see why it is anyone's business who I get on with," he snapped, and the room fell silent. Louis turned and looked at the boy. His face was full of thunder, storm clouds forming in his dilated eyes. He stared at the smaller boy for what felt like hours, when a deafening squeak ripped across the tiled floor. Harry's chair flew from under him, as he stood up in a whirlwind of anger and annoyance, before walking away from the interview. A reservoir formed in the blonde's eyes, and Louis wanted to reach out and reassure her it was ok. He didn't. Jamie was already there with a tissue, muttering apologies and making excuses. The Doncaster lad fought the urge to roll his eyes.

The temper tantrums only became worse. When two of Harry's contestants were eliminated, Louis watched him backstage. He lurked in the shadows, so the star did not know, whilst he snorted a huge line of coke. It was the type of line you'd do, when you did not want to remember anything. Louis's mentor then stumbled through the backstage, weaving through equipment and people until he reached Simon. Watching the two interact sent shivers down Louis's spine. Memories of their earlier argument came flooding back and he wanted to leave his hiding spot to yell at the manager. Tell him to never go near Harry again, and let him love; let him live.

He didn't. But he did watch and listen.

"You removed them on purpose to punish me!" Harry snapped, challenging the older man.

There was not much in the way of height between them, but the way Simon looked down his nose at the star gave the illusion that he was seven foot tall. Harry looked like a small child: vulnerable and scared.

"Perhaps I did. Perhaps I didn't," A smug grin was written across Cowbell's face, and Louis wanted to slap it off.

"At least now you know when I tell you do something, you do it,"

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