Life Inc.

Louis started off his journey home by focusing solely on the pounding of his feet on the pavement, the feeling of his weight shifting from his heels to the balls of his feet as they carried him forward. He felt the cool wind tousling his pointlessly styled hair, the October chill biting at the tips of his fingers, the feeling of his tongue running over his dry lips.

Even though he distracted himself with the physical, it didn’t take long for his mind to drift into the familiar dark places that he so often haunted, the places that had grown within him and become more wretched and desolate as time had passed.

He had had a miserable existence so far. He remembered very little of his childhood. He had no idea who had looked after him, whether they loved him, why they had abandoned him, or how they had been able to see him, to even know that he was there. He had no clues to his past apart from a small, beaten up metal box with his name and date of birth engraved into the lid, that he still couldn’t seem to unlock.

His earliest memory was from when he was about ten years old – he was alone and cold and hungry. He had been forced to learn how to fend completely for himself, and fast. It hadn’t taken him long to realise he was different to everyone else, he just didn’t know how yet.

It was after about two years of being utterly alone – people looking at him but not seeing him, hearing him but not listening to him – that he first considered ending it all. It’s a horrific thing when a twelve year old considers suicide.

He had stuck with life for another year, not bothering with education, not bothering with much at all. What was the point? He was existing without living. But he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was meant for something more than his seemingly unnecessary existence. That somehow, whatever exiled him from the rest of humanity, gave him a purpose. Or would give him a purpose one day.

It was when he reached thirteen that he decided that no purpose was worth being constantly alone, especially if you didn’t know what it was. And it was on the day of that decision that he had first encountered Harry Styles.

At first it just seemed like a meaningless crush. Sure, it gave him a reason to get up in the mornings, but he was simply a boy he had seen on the street and who he had instantly been drawn to. When, one day, he followed Harry to school (he didn’t consider himself a stalker, only bored with no friends, and what harm could he do if he didn’t exist?) he had realized that maybe some knowledge would do him good; he could entertain himself, and maybe learn why he was different.

Louis knew that over the last five years, since that fateful day, both he and Harry had grown physically and emotionally, he had knowledge and passions and a meagre understanding of the Company, but enough. And his crush had most definitely developed into something more.

Part of it was physical. The cute eleven year old with a slightly chubby face, dimples, and bright eyes that Louis had first encountered had grown into an attractive sixteen year old; all curls and jaw-lines and smiles and hands and subtle gorgeousness that was masked by adorableness.

The other part was that he just couldn’t seem to escape him. Even when he tried to distance himself, he was always drawn back to him, like a magnet, like he was chained to the younger teenager. He always came back to that innocent face and heart-warming smile, in spite of the heartbreak and loneliness he felt on a daily basis.

Louis had always known it was inevitable, but he still felt annoyingly crushed when Harry asked ‘the blond’ out. Louis hadn’t even bothered to learn her name. He figured that it was relatively rational to hate her; she had everything he couldn’t ever have – love, family , friends and Harry Styles.

He knew that eventually the time would come when Harry would leave school, get married, probably move away and produce a brood complete with family pet, and the thought sickened Louis, but to follow him would mean he had actually gone crazy/become a stalker. He was savouring every moment in Harry’s presence until he would have to say a one-sided goodbye to the boy who had given him a reason to live.

As Louis began to near his home – the house that the Company thought was abandoned – he pulled himself out of his reverie and surveyed the world around him. It had become overcast, seemingly in parallel with his thoughts and he frowned slightly; he much preferred life when it was sunny.

It was with this thought that he first noticed the figure slightly further up the road. The familiar mop of brown, curly hair instantly told Louis that the figure was none other than the boy he had been thinking about just moments before.

Louis’ world seemed to slow right down as he took in the situation unfolding before his eyes, his heart pounding in his ears – Harry had his iPod in, head nodding to music only he could hear, about to cross the road. The car that was speeding towards them wasn’t going to see him in time.

As realization dawned on Louis, his heart seemed to stop, his mind thrown into overdrive: the Company was going to kill Harry Styles.

He shouldn’t interfere. They didn’t know he existed and saving Harry would only complicate things. And even if he saved Harry this time, the Company would just try again. If they wanted him dead then he was as good as dead already. And if he saved Harry from accidents enough times, they’d just send operatives after the teenager. But Louis also couldn’t ignore the nagging voice at the back of his mind that told him that in many ways, he owed Harry his life.

Before he knew what he was doing, Louis was running faster than he had ever run before, desperate to reach the boy he loved before it was too late. The tarmac hurt his feet as they pounded against it, his thin shoes offering little protection.

He finally reached Harry, wrapping an arm around his waist and yanking him backwards. Harry, unaware of Louis’ presence, wasn’t expecting anything and fell back as a dead weight, causing Louis to stumble and Harry to fall backwards with him, just as the car sped past the very spot where he would have been.

The pair kept falling, in what felt like slow motion, until Louis finally hit the hard ground, gasping as the air was knocked out of him. Harry, falling at a slightly different angle, fell half against a parked car, his head whacking loudly against the bumper as his other half fell on top of Louis.

As soon as the older boy heard the impact of Harry’s skull against the car, he was scrabbling to sit up, ignoring his scraped up palms, gathering the limp body into his arms, eyes widening nervously as Harry’s head lolled against his chest.

“Shit,” Louis muttered, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.