Smile For Him
Chapter Two
Harry kept his head low as he walked out of the classroom and through the schools polished corridor. The other students bustled around him, knocking into his shoulders and hitting him with their swinging bags. Harry was unable to identify whether people did this by accident, or with intention, but he suspected the latter. Harry just hunched his shoulders, attempting to make himself appear more invisible to those around him. But, it didn’t always work.
“Alright, Styles!” Harry heard from behind him. A sarcastic arm was thrown around his shoulder as Bert Brooks appeared. “Looking forward to my little shindig tonight? Should be fun, right guys?” his friends around him laughed, one punching Harry in the arm – a little too aggressively to be playful. Harry just didn’t say anything. He kept his head low and his mouth tightly shut, as he always did. “Aww, cat got your tongue, Styles? It’s okay,” Bert patted his shoulder roughly, “we’ll give you a few drink tonight, eh? Then maybe you’ll loosen up your tongue a bit. See you tonight, Styles. Don’t forget to bring your fit sister!” Bert used his hand to push Harry to the floor. Bert’s friends jeered at him, one shoving him in the ribs with his foot. People laughed and simply walked past him, not helping him pick up his papers which were littered on the floor. Shamefully Harry collected his belongings now imprinted with footsteps and stuffed them back into his bag before picking himself up off of the floor. He sighed – tonight was probably going to be even worse than he’d imagined. He wanted to be invisible, but it seemed it wasn’t quite as easy as he would have hoped. Harry sniffed and let his curly hair drop into his eyes before continuing his journey to his Maths class, trying desperately to erase the thought of tonight out of his head.
-
A knock was heard on Harry’s door as he stood in front of his mirror, arms by his sides and a scowl on his face. Without his permission, Anne strutted into the room in a beautiful crimson dress, adjusting her pearl earrings. “Oh, Harry,” she sighed, taking in the appearance of her son, “You can look so much better than that. Your hair, dear, it’s disastrous. Come here.” Anne walked towards him, using her gloved hands to attempt to smooth down his messy curls, although it was unsuccessful. She huffed, “I wish you would cut it. You’d look so much more handsome.” She used both of her hands to pull his hair back, revealing his forehead. Harry gently removed her hands, “I like it like this.” Anne frowned, “But it makes you look-” she looked down ashamed. “Makes me look what, Mum?” Harry asked. “Makes you look so much like your father.” Harry swallowed thickly. They didn’t talk about his father. He was a disgrace, and Robin was the best thing that had ever happened to this family - according to Anne anyway. Anne looked back up and smiled at him; she turned him towards the mirror and placed her hands on his shoulders, “You’re such a wonderful boy, Harry. I just wish you would be a part of this family more.” Harry shoved her hands away and angrily muttered, “I don’t want to be a part of this family.”
Harry stalked away, turning his back to his Mother and facing the window instead. He stayed that way until he heard her sigh and leave the room, closing the door gently. Harry gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the stinging sensation that meant tears were forming. “Stop it,” Harry told himself, “Stop it!”
“Mr. Styles?” Harry wiped around to meet Tobias in the doorway. “T-Tobias, I didn’t hear you come in.” Harry uncrossed his arms and let them hang limply by his sides. “Yes, I apologise for surprising you, it is just your Father wishes for you to be ready in five minutes. I came to inform you.” Harry cleared his throat, “Y-yeah, I’m nearly ready. I just need to put on my shoes.”
“But what about your bowtie, Mr. Styles?” Tobias wondered, noticing the black tie hung on the back of his chair. “Well, I’m not very good at doing them up. I thought perhaps I would just go without-” he stopped noticing the look in his butlers eyes. They were both thinking the same thing, ‘Robin will kill you.’ “Would you like me to do it for you, Mr. Styles?” Tobias offered, picking it up delicately. Harry nodded and walked towards him, popping up his collar. He allowed Tobias to place it around his neck and tie it into a neat bow. He stepped back and let Harry look in the mirror. Harry felt silly in the posh suit. His black trousers tailored to fit his skinny legs, his rather bright white shirt tucked in and ironed to perfection. And his bowtie which made him feel like a small child trying to look like an adult. “Do I look okay?” he asked quietly. “You look fine, Mr. Styles. Now please, your Father is waiting.” Harry grabbed his dinner jacket and shrugged it on, “I told you, Tobias, he is not my Father.” Before slipping on his shoes and leaving the room, leaving Tobias behind.
-
“Charles! Debra!” Robin cried happily as he spotted his friends. Harry stood by his Mum and sister in the foyer of the Brooks household. Harry gazed above him at the magnificent chandelier that twinkled in the light. “You remember my beautiful wife, Anne?” Robin said, bringing the couple over to them. Robin slid a sleazy arm around his Mother’s waist as she kissed both Charles and Debra on the cheek. “This is our wonderful daughter, Gemma.” Gemma smiled a pretty but fake smile, and drank in the compliments thrown at her. “Oh my, Gemma! I haven’t seen you for years. My how you’ve grown!”, “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she Robin? Just like her Mother! Smart too the way I’ve heard it.” Gemma giggled cutely and smiled even wider. And now for the worst. Harry prepared himself for the humiliation. “And this is Anne’s boy, Harry.” Robin said quickly. Harry just nodded at them both, as neither went in for a kiss like with his Mother and sister, nor was a handshake offered. “He’s, um – He’s a lot like his father then, I take it?” Charles inspected, trying to make light conversation, his eyes lingering on the curls. “Yes, his real Father. He is nothing like me, I can assure you that.” The five laughed, Gemma sending him a cruel look. Harry just looked down at his black shoes once again.
“Champagne?” A tray was held out in front of him. Gemma immediately grabbed a glass, holding it daintily in her hand. Anne smiled and also accepted, while Robin, Debra and Charles snatched one without so much as a, “Thank you.” Before turning back to their conversation. “And you?” Harry looked up, meeting a pair of blue eyes. Harry plucked the last glass from the tray and stammered, “T-thank you.” The blue eyes shined, “You’re welcome.”
Harry watched as the boy walked away. He was only slightly taller than himself, with brown sweeping hair and a slight sun-kissed tan. He felt like he knew him, as if he’d seen him before. But Harry tried not to let it bother him. “Stop staring, dickhead. We’re going to our table.” Gemma hissed in his ear, grabbing his arm so that her painted nails dug into his skin as she pulled him along. Robin hung back too, his wide smile dropping as he lent towards Harry’s ear, “I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of you, do you understand? You’re an embarrassment. If you dare show me up, you will be kicked out of this family whether your Mother likes it or not.” Harry gulped and nodded. “Good!”
-
Harry had done as he was told. He hasn’t said a single word to any one since being sat at their table. He had chewed his venison in silence, sipped his soup without a noise, and accepted another glass of champagne with only a brisk, thankful nod. As he was finishing off his strawberry dessert, the soft jazz music that was playing was replaced with ‘KC & And The Sunshine Band’. Harry rolled his eyes while his Mum as well as many others got up from their chairs and made their way to the dance floor, many of them a drunken mess. As he looked around Harry noticed Bert and many of his friends crowded around one table with a suspicious amount of wine and champagne. On Bert’s lap sat Annabelle, a pretty yet bitchy girl in the year above. Harry sighed, getting out of his seat and walking out of the hall without being seen, deciding he’d rather be alone than in a room full of drunk adults and horrid students. He noticed a door leading outside to the garden, and used it to slip outside. He breathed in the cold night air and watched his breath as he exhaled. He leant against the brick wall as stared at his feet.
“Hi.” Harry jumped at the voice, turning to his left to see the waiter from earlier. Only this time his white shirt was hidden by a thick winter coat, his hands stuffed in the pockets in a familiar manner. “H-hi.” Harry stuttered, “Aren’t you, um, meant to be inside?” the boy laughed, “I’m on my break. The other guys tend to go to the kitchen to sneak a glass of wine for themselves to make the night a bit easier, but I thought I would be good and just get some fresh air. Anyway, what about you? Shouldn’t you be inside?” an eyebrow was raised at him, and Harry swallowed, “I don’t really want to be in there.” He looked down back at his feet, confused as to why this stranger was talking to him. He looked to be about twenty, and Harry knew that he was one of those boys from the other side of town from his posture to the slight stubble on his chin. He seemed confident, yet there was this slight sense of shyness to him. “You hate them?” the older boy guessed. Harry just shrugged, looking at the boy’s coat. He suddenly came to realise that it was the same boy he had seen in the field the day before. Harry smiled to himself, thinking what a small world it must be.
The boy cocked his head. Harry noticed it out of the corner of his eye. “What?” Harry asked quietly, looking up at him. The boy laughed, “Nothing. It’s just I’ve never spoken to someone like you before.” Harry frowned, “Someone like me?” the boys eyes glistened, “Yeah. Rich, well-off. The ones that go to that stuck-up private school-” the boy stopped talking, noticing Harry’s expression. “I’m not like that,” Harry mumbled, “I’m not like them. They hate me. And I hate them.” The boy smiled, letting out a short laugh of interest. “Yeah, you’re right. You are different. You’re the only one who hasn’t spoken to me like I’m a piece of shit. I like you.” Harry twitched nervously, “How can you like me? You know nothing about me.” The brown haired boy shrugged, “So? I like you more than those other dicks. That must mean something, right? What’s your name?” the boy pushed himself off of the wall and stood in front of him. Harry raised his head and met the blue eyes, “Harry.”
“I’m Louis.” He said, extending a hand which Harry took. He gave it a brief squeeze before letting go. “Well, Harry. It was nice meeting you, but I’ve got to get back to work. Maybe I’ll see you around some time – although I doubt it.” He gave him a small smile before walking towards the door. Harry panicked, “Wait!” Louis turned around, “Yes?” Harry froze. He wasn’t even sure why he’d called the stranger back, but somehow he felt that if he didn’t say anything he would never see this Louis again. “W-we don’t have to not see each other again. I-I mean – I – We could-” Harry blushed and bit his lip. Louis placed a hand on his shoulder, “Harry?” Harry looked into his eyes, admiring their cornflower blue colour, “I’ll see you around.” Louis said before dropping his hand and walking back inside. Harry stood outside in the cold, completely still. He blinked a few times, and felt his mouth muscles pull. He realised Louis meant it as a promise, and at the thought of it, Harry allowed himself to smile.
“Alright, Styles!” Harry heard from behind him. A sarcastic arm was thrown around his shoulder as Bert Brooks appeared. “Looking forward to my little shindig tonight? Should be fun, right guys?” his friends around him laughed, one punching Harry in the arm – a little too aggressively to be playful. Harry just didn’t say anything. He kept his head low and his mouth tightly shut, as he always did. “Aww, cat got your tongue, Styles? It’s okay,” Bert patted his shoulder roughly, “we’ll give you a few drink tonight, eh? Then maybe you’ll loosen up your tongue a bit. See you tonight, Styles. Don’t forget to bring your fit sister!” Bert used his hand to push Harry to the floor. Bert’s friends jeered at him, one shoving him in the ribs with his foot. People laughed and simply walked past him, not helping him pick up his papers which were littered on the floor. Shamefully Harry collected his belongings now imprinted with footsteps and stuffed them back into his bag before picking himself up off of the floor. He sighed – tonight was probably going to be even worse than he’d imagined. He wanted to be invisible, but it seemed it wasn’t quite as easy as he would have hoped. Harry sniffed and let his curly hair drop into his eyes before continuing his journey to his Maths class, trying desperately to erase the thought of tonight out of his head.
-
A knock was heard on Harry’s door as he stood in front of his mirror, arms by his sides and a scowl on his face. Without his permission, Anne strutted into the room in a beautiful crimson dress, adjusting her pearl earrings. “Oh, Harry,” she sighed, taking in the appearance of her son, “You can look so much better than that. Your hair, dear, it’s disastrous. Come here.” Anne walked towards him, using her gloved hands to attempt to smooth down his messy curls, although it was unsuccessful. She huffed, “I wish you would cut it. You’d look so much more handsome.” She used both of her hands to pull his hair back, revealing his forehead. Harry gently removed her hands, “I like it like this.” Anne frowned, “But it makes you look-” she looked down ashamed. “Makes me look what, Mum?” Harry asked. “Makes you look so much like your father.” Harry swallowed thickly. They didn’t talk about his father. He was a disgrace, and Robin was the best thing that had ever happened to this family - according to Anne anyway. Anne looked back up and smiled at him; she turned him towards the mirror and placed her hands on his shoulders, “You’re such a wonderful boy, Harry. I just wish you would be a part of this family more.” Harry shoved her hands away and angrily muttered, “I don’t want to be a part of this family.”
Harry stalked away, turning his back to his Mother and facing the window instead. He stayed that way until he heard her sigh and leave the room, closing the door gently. Harry gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the stinging sensation that meant tears were forming. “Stop it,” Harry told himself, “Stop it!”
“Mr. Styles?” Harry wiped around to meet Tobias in the doorway. “T-Tobias, I didn’t hear you come in.” Harry uncrossed his arms and let them hang limply by his sides. “Yes, I apologise for surprising you, it is just your Father wishes for you to be ready in five minutes. I came to inform you.” Harry cleared his throat, “Y-yeah, I’m nearly ready. I just need to put on my shoes.”
“But what about your bowtie, Mr. Styles?” Tobias wondered, noticing the black tie hung on the back of his chair. “Well, I’m not very good at doing them up. I thought perhaps I would just go without-” he stopped noticing the look in his butlers eyes. They were both thinking the same thing, ‘Robin will kill you.’ “Would you like me to do it for you, Mr. Styles?” Tobias offered, picking it up delicately. Harry nodded and walked towards him, popping up his collar. He allowed Tobias to place it around his neck and tie it into a neat bow. He stepped back and let Harry look in the mirror. Harry felt silly in the posh suit. His black trousers tailored to fit his skinny legs, his rather bright white shirt tucked in and ironed to perfection. And his bowtie which made him feel like a small child trying to look like an adult. “Do I look okay?” he asked quietly. “You look fine, Mr. Styles. Now please, your Father is waiting.” Harry grabbed his dinner jacket and shrugged it on, “I told you, Tobias, he is not my Father.” Before slipping on his shoes and leaving the room, leaving Tobias behind.
-
“Charles! Debra!” Robin cried happily as he spotted his friends. Harry stood by his Mum and sister in the foyer of the Brooks household. Harry gazed above him at the magnificent chandelier that twinkled in the light. “You remember my beautiful wife, Anne?” Robin said, bringing the couple over to them. Robin slid a sleazy arm around his Mother’s waist as she kissed both Charles and Debra on the cheek. “This is our wonderful daughter, Gemma.” Gemma smiled a pretty but fake smile, and drank in the compliments thrown at her. “Oh my, Gemma! I haven’t seen you for years. My how you’ve grown!”, “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she Robin? Just like her Mother! Smart too the way I’ve heard it.” Gemma giggled cutely and smiled even wider. And now for the worst. Harry prepared himself for the humiliation. “And this is Anne’s boy, Harry.” Robin said quickly. Harry just nodded at them both, as neither went in for a kiss like with his Mother and sister, nor was a handshake offered. “He’s, um – He’s a lot like his father then, I take it?” Charles inspected, trying to make light conversation, his eyes lingering on the curls. “Yes, his real Father. He is nothing like me, I can assure you that.” The five laughed, Gemma sending him a cruel look. Harry just looked down at his black shoes once again.
“Champagne?” A tray was held out in front of him. Gemma immediately grabbed a glass, holding it daintily in her hand. Anne smiled and also accepted, while Robin, Debra and Charles snatched one without so much as a, “Thank you.” Before turning back to their conversation. “And you?” Harry looked up, meeting a pair of blue eyes. Harry plucked the last glass from the tray and stammered, “T-thank you.” The blue eyes shined, “You’re welcome.”
Harry watched as the boy walked away. He was only slightly taller than himself, with brown sweeping hair and a slight sun-kissed tan. He felt like he knew him, as if he’d seen him before. But Harry tried not to let it bother him. “Stop staring, dickhead. We’re going to our table.” Gemma hissed in his ear, grabbing his arm so that her painted nails dug into his skin as she pulled him along. Robin hung back too, his wide smile dropping as he lent towards Harry’s ear, “I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of you, do you understand? You’re an embarrassment. If you dare show me up, you will be kicked out of this family whether your Mother likes it or not.” Harry gulped and nodded. “Good!”
-
Harry had done as he was told. He hasn’t said a single word to any one since being sat at their table. He had chewed his venison in silence, sipped his soup without a noise, and accepted another glass of champagne with only a brisk, thankful nod. As he was finishing off his strawberry dessert, the soft jazz music that was playing was replaced with ‘KC & And The Sunshine Band’. Harry rolled his eyes while his Mum as well as many others got up from their chairs and made their way to the dance floor, many of them a drunken mess. As he looked around Harry noticed Bert and many of his friends crowded around one table with a suspicious amount of wine and champagne. On Bert’s lap sat Annabelle, a pretty yet bitchy girl in the year above. Harry sighed, getting out of his seat and walking out of the hall without being seen, deciding he’d rather be alone than in a room full of drunk adults and horrid students. He noticed a door leading outside to the garden, and used it to slip outside. He breathed in the cold night air and watched his breath as he exhaled. He leant against the brick wall as stared at his feet.
“Hi.” Harry jumped at the voice, turning to his left to see the waiter from earlier. Only this time his white shirt was hidden by a thick winter coat, his hands stuffed in the pockets in a familiar manner. “H-hi.” Harry stuttered, “Aren’t you, um, meant to be inside?” the boy laughed, “I’m on my break. The other guys tend to go to the kitchen to sneak a glass of wine for themselves to make the night a bit easier, but I thought I would be good and just get some fresh air. Anyway, what about you? Shouldn’t you be inside?” an eyebrow was raised at him, and Harry swallowed, “I don’t really want to be in there.” He looked down back at his feet, confused as to why this stranger was talking to him. He looked to be about twenty, and Harry knew that he was one of those boys from the other side of town from his posture to the slight stubble on his chin. He seemed confident, yet there was this slight sense of shyness to him. “You hate them?” the older boy guessed. Harry just shrugged, looking at the boy’s coat. He suddenly came to realise that it was the same boy he had seen in the field the day before. Harry smiled to himself, thinking what a small world it must be.
The boy cocked his head. Harry noticed it out of the corner of his eye. “What?” Harry asked quietly, looking up at him. The boy laughed, “Nothing. It’s just I’ve never spoken to someone like you before.” Harry frowned, “Someone like me?” the boys eyes glistened, “Yeah. Rich, well-off. The ones that go to that stuck-up private school-” the boy stopped talking, noticing Harry’s expression. “I’m not like that,” Harry mumbled, “I’m not like them. They hate me. And I hate them.” The boy smiled, letting out a short laugh of interest. “Yeah, you’re right. You are different. You’re the only one who hasn’t spoken to me like I’m a piece of shit. I like you.” Harry twitched nervously, “How can you like me? You know nothing about me.” The brown haired boy shrugged, “So? I like you more than those other dicks. That must mean something, right? What’s your name?” the boy pushed himself off of the wall and stood in front of him. Harry raised his head and met the blue eyes, “Harry.”
“I’m Louis.” He said, extending a hand which Harry took. He gave it a brief squeeze before letting go. “Well, Harry. It was nice meeting you, but I’ve got to get back to work. Maybe I’ll see you around some time – although I doubt it.” He gave him a small smile before walking towards the door. Harry panicked, “Wait!” Louis turned around, “Yes?” Harry froze. He wasn’t even sure why he’d called the stranger back, but somehow he felt that if he didn’t say anything he would never see this Louis again. “W-we don’t have to not see each other again. I-I mean – I – We could-” Harry blushed and bit his lip. Louis placed a hand on his shoulder, “Harry?” Harry looked into his eyes, admiring their cornflower blue colour, “I’ll see you around.” Louis said before dropping his hand and walking back inside. Harry stood outside in the cold, completely still. He blinked a few times, and felt his mouth muscles pull. He realised Louis meant it as a promise, and at the thought of it, Harry allowed himself to smile.