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Our Love was made for Movie Screens

Chapter Text

Louis stares at the five cards in his hands. He’s got a J, a Q, a 10, a K, and a 5. All he needs is to pick up an A, and Zayn and him are out of this fucking shithole.

“Chickening out, Tomlinson?” Max asks from across the table.

It’s five in the afternoon and Louis is sitting on a chair in a pub right by a crowded dock, God knows how many kilometers away from home. A giant bag filled with all of his belongings is resting at his feet, serving as a cruel reminder of how he ran away from home two days ago, taking Zayn with him.

It all started when his homophobic father walked in on him fucking Zayn into the couch, even though he wasn’t supposed to be home until the next day. He started flipping shit and yelling, and as soon as his mother got home she joined in.

They reminded Louis what a failure he was; dropping out of school at seventeen because of his grades, being 22 and still living with his parents, doing nothing except of smoking and sleeping all day, and on top of that, being gay, a shame to his family.

So the logical decision after that whole chaotic screaming session was for Louis to pack up his things, call Zayn to tell him what he was planning on doing, and then leave home.

He didn’t have any money. Money had always been tight around the house even though he was an only child, but he couldn’t be bothered. After all the shouting and the bad parenting, his father deserved to be robbed of his lifetime savings.

Louis found five thousand pounds in cash in his sock drawer (dumbest place to hide a huge amount of money, honestly - and they called Louis an idiot), and made a dash for the door before he could be stopped.

Zayn met him at the bus stop a few minutes away from Louis’ house, with a bag slung over his shoulder and a cigarette between his teeth.

“What are we doing?” he asked Louis when they got on the first bus that led them to the train station.


“For how long?”

“For you, the Easter holidays. For me, I don’t know.”


Louis liked Zayn. He’s always liked him; from the moment they met on the swings in the schoolyard when they were five, up until now. Their friendship was the only thing Louis had going for him at the moment - everything else was falling apart. He had no future, no siblings to look out for, and no money to actually do something he liked.

Zayn, on the other hand, was on his Easter holidays from the art school he got into, and sometimes Louis would go sleep at his place if things got too much at his house. This time, however, he wanted to do something big. Well, not really. He wanted to be spontaneous, just do whatever he feels like and see where it leads him. He’s always trusted his instincts.

“Got any money on you?” Zayn asked him as they walked over to buy two tickets for the soonest train that would lead them towards the seaside.

“Five thousand. You?”

“Credit card.”

Louis nodded and bought tickets for the both of them.

They didn’t get off the train until the last station, which was coincidentally in Canvey Island, right by the sea as Louis had hoped.

They checked into a motel right by the beach and spent two weeks there, living off of junk food and weed, occasionally going out to the beach at night.

The loud ship horn startled Louis out of his reminiscing, making him aware that Max, Tom, and Zayn were staring at him.

“Me? Chicken out? Never.” He says. “All in.”

“What? You can’t bet everything we have left! How are we going to get home?” Zayn says when he sees Louis pushing a bound stack of 4500 quid in the middle, together with his credit card.

“When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.” Louis tells him, even though his heart is beating out of his chest. If he doesn’t pick up an Ace, he’s screwed. Both of them are screwed. And it would all be Louis’ fault, just another thing to add to his list of endless failures.

There are ten thousand pounds on the table right now, a credit card that has about that amount on it, a pack containing five grams of weed, and two third class tickets for the Oasis Of The Seas.

Tom picks up a new card and smirks, placing all five of them on the table.

“Straight flush.”

Louis’ heart stops as he takes a new card and lets his fiver go.

“Well?” Zayn asks, extremely anxious as Louis sets his cards down.

“I’m sorry.” He tells Zayn, who looks like he’s been hit by a truck.

Max and Tom start cheering and high fiving as they collect everything there is on the table in a small bag.

“I can’t believe I was beaten by a straight flush. Can you believe the irony?” Louis asks Zayn as they make their way out of the pub with their heavy bags in hand. The dock is crowded, filled with people who are waiting for the ship to depart on its first ever two-week cruise from Europe all the way to America, and then back to Europe.

“Do you think now’s the time for jokes? We’re fuckin’ broke Louis, you bet everything we had and now we have nothing. How are we supposed to get home? Do you even realize how fucked we are? I should’ve never listened to you-“

“Shhh.” Louis says and suddenly drops to his knees right by the window.

“What the-“

“Shut up and get down.”

“What are you doing?” Zayn whisper-yells when he sees Louis throwing a look inside.

“We’re not going to leave here empty handed.”

“You’re not planning on actually stealing that bag are you? They’re not going to let it out of their sight.”

“Yes, they will. Max is going to the bathroom soon, I made sure to buy him enough beers. And they need to leave soon because the ship leaves in five minutes.”

“You’re insane.”

“Hold this.”

Louis hands him his bag just as he sees Max getting up and going to the bathroom.

“Go and wait for me by the entrance of the ship.”

“There’s a long queue- I don’t think we’ll make it.” Zayn tells him, but grabs the bag nonetheless.

“Run there, I’ll be with you soon.”

“Louis- be careful. You don’t have to do this, we can figure things out-“

“Trust me on this, okay? Just trust me.”


Zayn grips into their bags before he starts running through the mass of people towards the entrance to get in line. Louis turns his head back to the window and smiles to himself when he sees Tom getting up from the table to go and pay the bill.

That’s his cue, so he gets up quickly and runs back into the pub. He passes the table quickly, grabs the heavy bag filled with cash and the two tickets, before he’s back out again, running like his life depends on it.

He accidentally pushes a rich lady on the ground and stumbles over her small dog.

He finds Zayn by the entrance, trying to negotiate with the two security guards that his friend is just about to arrive.

“I’m here. I’m here.” He says, out of breath, as he takes the two tickets out of the bag and hands them to them.

“Have you been through the inspection queue?” the security guard asks, and Louis nods, having no idea what it is.

“Okay then, come aboard, we don’t have much time!”

Louis throws a smirk towards Zayn and they both hurry up towards the entrance. The two guards close the doors behind them and they’re officially in.

They manage to get out on the main deck just as the final horn is heard, and everyone begins to wave to the people on the dock.

“I can’t believe this!” Zayn screams over the noise and Louis laughs, gripping into the railing and waving to no one in particular.

“Who are you waving at?”

“I don’t know!”

He sees Max and Tom yelling something at them from the edge of the dock, so both Louis and Zayn hold up their middle fingers as the ship begins to move.

“What a bunch of losers.” Louis laughs once the crowd on the deck has cleared out, probably in search for their rooms.

“This is fucking amazing.” he breathes as they enter the lobby filled with people that had already settled in. They ask for a key at the reception, and no one asks for any kind of ID since they’re assumed to have gone through the identification queue or whatever that was.

The third class quarters are on the third and fourth decks, and their room, number 204, is on the third.

Louis tries to unlock the door but it’s already open. The room is small, and it has two bunk beds. There is a tiny, round window on the opposite wall, and a small toilet in the corner.

“Is third class supposed to be this shitty?” Louis asks as he sets his bag on the top bunk.

They hear a toilet flushing and after a few seconds, a brown-haired guy with huge biceps, wearing nothing but a tank top and swimming trunks comes out.

“This isn’t even third class, mate. Fourth maybe. This is how they treat their staff apparently.” He says as he dries his hands off on a towel.

“Wait, what?” Louis asks, confused. “Does that mean we have to be working all the time?”

“Kind of. Depends on what job you have? I’m Liam by the way.”

“I’m Louis, and this is Zayn. What jobs are you talkin’ about? Did we forget something?”

Liam looks at them confused. Tom and Max must’ve gotten a job and forgot to mention it. Fucking bastards.

“Well, you must be a waiter, since Niall and I are both waiters.”

Louis nods, not really interested in the subject anymore. He just wants to kick back and light up a joint with Zayn.

“How much are we getting paid?” Zayn asks as Liam opens his suitcase and looks for something through it.

“Two hundred a week.”

Louis’ eyes widen at that, and he smirks, exchanging looks with Zayn. Maybe working a few hours a day won’t be that bad after all.


When Harry woke up that Friday morning, he wished he hadn’t. He knew that today was the day he and his whole family, together with the Swifts, were supposed to embark on a two week cruise on the biggest ship in the world, built by Taylor’s (his soon-to-become wife) father.

To say he hates his life is an understatement. He lives in a world where money is above all, and it’s apparently the nineteenth century all over again, since his father decided to get him and Taylor together. He was forced into a relationship with her ever since he was sixteen, three years ago, and now they’re supposed to be getting married in a week, in New York, where the ship is supposed to dock.

Their limousine stops in the parking lot right by the giant ship that casts a huge shadow over everything within a close distance.

He steps out of it, then helps Taylor because his father is watching closely.


Like she can’t get out of a fucking limousine on her own.


A few men take their luggage and they’re escorted to the main entrance of the ship.

“It doesn’t look that big.” He mumbles and Mr. Swift pats his shoulder.

“I’m afraid you’re wrong, son. This is proven to be the biggest ship at the moment. I know it, I built it myself.”

“With your bare hands!” Harry says sarcastically.

“Harry!” his mother exclaims.

“Not quite, but with my own money. This is an unsinkable ship. God himself could not sink this ship.”

Harry wants to roll his eyes so bad they roll out of his head. But he doesn’t. He gives them a fake smile and walks towards the entrance, wishing that he could just drown himself in the water below.

They’re shown to their first class luxury suite that he and his fiancée are going to share for the next two weeks. He sits down on the king sized bed in the bedroom while Taylor unpacks her stuff and begins talking about how great her father’s ship is, and thinks back to where it all went wrong.

He was sixteen when his parents walked in on him snogging his best friend Nick, who was a few years older in his first year of Uni. They were kissing on the couch in the living room and his parents weren’t supposed to be home from the gala they were attending until hours later, but the next thing he heard were his mother’s screams.

They forbid him to see Nick again and signed him up for a ‘cleansing’ program at their church, where all he was taught was that being gay is just a phase, and that everyone who gets involved with the same sex goes to hell.

He pretended that the program worked, but his parents were too scared to risk it, so they introduced him to Taylor, the daughter of his father’s business partner and best friend. It wasn’t long until their parents talked about the idea of marriage, and two years later they already arranged a wedding.

Harry found it ridiculous; it was 2015 for Christ’s sake, not the 70s. But he sucked it all up and faked a smile, even though inside he was dying.

He gets up from the bed and takes off his uncomfortable blazer.

“Where are you going? We’re getting lunch on the upper deck soon.” Taylor tells him as she holds up a designer dress.

“I’m just going to take some fresh air. I’ll meet you there.”


She smiles, revealing her perfect white teeth, and kisses him on the lips. He doesn’t even close his eyes, because kissing her feels like a duty, and the thought of doing this for the rest of his life kills him inside.


Louis and Zayn decide to go explore the upper decks for a bit before they have their first staff meeting in the conference room, so they leave Liam behind as they walk towards the elevator.

“Can you believe those fuckers failed to mention that we have to work?” Louis huffs.

“They actually told us that, but you were too busy yelling at the bartender to bring you another beer to actually pay attention. But it’s better like this anyway, we’re gettin’ out of here with four hundred quid.”

Louis shrugs and steps out of the elevator as soon as the door opens to reveal a short hallway that leads outside.

“Fuck me.” He breathes when he sees the giant deck. There’s a hole right in the middle of it that leads all the way down to the first deck. There’s a tennis court on the left and a mini golf course on the right, and a huge pool right at the end.

They go and sit down on a lounge chair by the pool, and Louis leans back, closing his eyes.

“Would you like something to drink?” someone asks, so he opens his eyes and stares at the brunette girl in front of him. Her nametag reads ‘Eleanor’ and she’s kindly smiling down at him.

“Can I get a beer?” he asks. “How much is it?”

She laughs at that. “It’s all inclusive.”

“Oh. Then I’ll have two beers, please.”

“Three.” Zayn adds.

“Make them four.” Someone with an Irish accent says and Eleanor nods, disappearing.

Louis turns to look at the man who ordered last. He’s skinny, with dyed dirty blond hair and has a pair of knockoff RayBans on his nose.

“Fuckin’ amazing this whole all inclusive system, eh? Couldn’t believe me ears and eyes when I saw the buffet in the kitchen. Too bad we’re allowed to eat only after the guests. I’m Niall, by the way.”

Niall holds out his hand for the both of them to shake.

“Niall from room 204?”


“I’m Louis and this is Zayn. But to anyone who asks, we’re Max and Tom.”

Niall laughs and sits down on the lounge chair next to them, pulling out a pack of Marlboro.

“Can I have one?” Louis asks as soon as he sees them. “Forgot mine in the bag.”

He takes one after Niall assures him it’s okay, and gives one to Zayn too. Once all the cigarettes are lit up, Zayn starts telling Niall about how they managed to get on this cruise, and Louis buts in occasionally with snarky remarks.

He then leans back against the lounge chair and looks up at the sun. His eyes trail down and settle on a slender figure that walks up all the way to the railing and stops.

It’s a boy, who can’t be older than 18, and he’s wearing a navy blue blazer and a white button up that matches his khakis. His curls are swooped into a fringe and he looks lost, like he’d be anywhere but on this ship.

Niall notices that Louis has zoned out of their conversation, so he looks up and shakes his head when he sees who Louis is looking at.

“Good luck with that, mate. The only reason those first class residents would ever talk to us would be in case the ship was sinking and we had the last available boat.”

Louis frowns but keeps looking. He’s attracted to the boy, obviously. He’s always had a thing for more innocent looking guys.

A blonde girl dressed up in a fancy dress walks up to him and places her hand on his arm, obviously making him uncomfortable. She tells him something and the boy sighs, before he looks down. He accidentally catches Louis’ eye for a moment, and his gaze lingers on his tattooed arms for a bit too long, before he turns around and follows the girl back inside.

“Did you see that blonde girl up there?” Niall asks him, breaking Louis out of his stare.


“Her dad owns the ship. People say it’s unsinkable, but that’s utter shite.”

“So you’re saying we’re going to die if we hit a rock?” Louis jokes.

“Maybe.” Niall shrugs and takes another drag from his cigarette.

Zayn shakes his head and throws Louis an amused look. Louis doesn’t worry about it though, these types of tragedies only happen in movies.


It’s around six in the evening when Liam finally tells them that they have to go to the conference room for some short instructions and to get their work uniforms. The last thing Louis wants to do is to go and actually work, to be quite honest.

Tom and Max failed to mention that their ticket wasn’t actually a ticket they paid for; it was just a pass that identified them so they could get on the ship and work two shifts a day.

There are about fifty people gathered in the conference room, waiting for some sort of instruction from the boss that hasn’t showed up yet.

“Is this the whole staff?” Louis asks Niall as they sit down in the very back.

“Nah. Each staff group had different meetings, ours is the last since we start the latest.”

“So everyone in here is a waiter?”

Niall nods and is about to say something, but a thirty-year-old man who steps into the room interrupts him. The man stops in front of the room where everyone can see him and the chatter quiets down.

“Hello, everyone. For those who don’t know, my name is Ben Winston and I’ll be in charge of the restaurant as well as the lot of you.”

Ben points to a long table on the side that probably used to be in the middle of the room. “On that table you have individual name tags and your custom made uniforms, as well as your weekly shift schedule. Does anyone have any questions?”

Louis holds his hand up.


“What happens if we can’t come into work one day?”

“You are allowed to have sick days, but can’t ditch work under any other circumstances. If I find out you skipped work just for ‘fun’, you’ll be fired and forced to get off the ship at the next stop.”

Louis rolls his eyes and already makes up excuses for not going to work if he doesn’t feel like it. Once Ben dismisses them, everyone gets up from their seats and goes to find their uniforms and schedule.

“Don’t forget that our names are Tom and Max, yeah?” Zayn whispers to him as they look for their nametags.

They eventually find them and the uniforms.

“Why do I get the Max nametag?” Zayn pouts.

“Because I look like a Tom, not like a Max.”

Louis takes Tom’s things and takes a look at their schedule.

“Fuck, our next shift is in half an hour.”

“Better get going then.” Liam says and Louis hates everything already. This definitely wasn’t his idea of fun.

They start changing as soon as they get back to their rooms, and Louis isn’t surprised at all to see that Tom’s pants are way too long for his short legs. He rolls up the cuffs so they’re over his ankles and then puts his Vans back on.

Ten minutes later they leave their room and Liam shows them the way to the restaurant since he’s been a waiter on the cruise for two years now.

The restaurant is divided in two giant rooms, one where you can go and put on your plate whatever you want, and one where you order off a menu. Louis realizes that the second room is filled with the first class residents who probably think they’re better than everyone else on the ship.

“Where am I supposed to go?” Louis asks Liam as he looks down at his schedule.

Liam takes a look at the sheet of paper.

“It says R2, T20-23. Which means that you’re in the second room and you’re serving the tables 20, 21, 22, and 23.” Liam explains.



Zayn has the tables from 24 to 27, so they walk together to the second kitchen where they pick up their notepads and pens.

“I’m probably going to drop a few plates.” Louis laughs to hide the fact that he’s actually nervous. He’s never worked in his entire life, another thing his parents resented him for. Zayn, on the other hand, has worked at restaurants ever since he was sixteen and legally allowed to work.

“Probably.” Zayn agrees.

“This was the part where you’d assure me that I’ll do a great job.”

“You’ll do a great job, babe.”

Louis rolls his eyes but smiles when Zayn pecks his cheek and exits the kitchen to get to work, notepad and pen in hand. Louis watches him as he approaches a large round table for eight.

He gives himself a mental pep talk, reminding himself that these people are the ones that will sign his paycheck and that he probably won’t ever see them again.

He takes the order from the first three tables and it’s so hard to try and hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the ridiculous foods these people order.

Once he places the order from table 22 on the counter by the kitchen, he turns around and heads over to table 23.

“Hello, I’m Lo- I mean Tom, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight.” He says, plastering a fake smile without looking up from his notepad.

When no one says anything, he looks up and his eyes immediately fall on the boy he saw up on the deck earlier. He’s wearing the same blazer Louis saw him in, but with a different shirt. His head is buried in the giant menu so Louis just stares at the curls that are peaking out.

A lady with a ridiculous sparkly dress, who begins to tell him her order, interrupts his stare. By the time everyone besides the boy has ordered, Louis has filled two pages with his tiny, scribbled writing. He has no idea how he’ll manage to bring out the food.

“Harry, your order?” the same lady in the sparkly dress asks, and Louis thinks that she must be Harry’s mother.

The boy finally looks up from the menu and licks his lips when he makes eye contact with Louis. His eyes are empty but he’s smiling and Louis can’t help but stare at his lips as he talks, his hand working on its own accord.

Harry doesn’t order much, just a simple portion of mozzarella with tomatoes and a glass of red wine. His mother scolds him when he takes out a cigarette and the blonde girl Louis saw on the deck earlier takes it out of his mouth. It seems like the women at the table like to order him around and Louis doesn’t like that at all.

“Will that be all?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“Yes.” A buffy man answers.

Louis turns around at that and leaves, eyes rolling out of their sockets.

Fucking rich people, he thinks as he sets his last order on the counter.

Zayn joined him soon enough, obviously just as annoyed as Louis.

“Are these people fuckin’ serious? Someone ordered a bottle of champagne that costs more than my house.”

Louis shakes his head and doesn’t even get to lean against the counter because someone is already setting three plates filled with food for him to take to the first table.

“Don’t drop them!” Zayn reminds him and Louis carefully takes two plates in his hands, and places the third one on his forearm.

He doesn’t drop them on his way over to the table, and that’s probably his most important achievement ever.

The food for his last table is only ready thirty minutes later, so he doesn’t have any excuse of going over there after he brings them their drinks.

He watches Harry from afar as he drinks his glass of wine in three large gulps, and then raises his hand at Louis, probably to ask for another glass.

“Can I get another glass of wine, please?”

Louis nods and gives him a smile, which makes Harry confused. He must be asking himself why Louis is being nice to him without a reason, since the people at his table probably aren’t nice unless they want something.

Harry finishes his food in no time and asks for another glass of wine, which earns him a scold from the blonde girl next to him.

“You shouldn’t drink this much.” She tells him and Louis purposefully fills the glass to the brim as he pours it over Harry’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” The boy says and Louis smiles.

“Stop flirting with the patrons.” Zayn tells him when he gets back to the kitchen.

“I’m not flirting with anyone.”

Zayn shoots him a knowing look and Louis innocently pouts, shrugging.

“I wouldn’t cheat on you, bro.”

At that Zayn’s face softens and he pulls Louis into his side.

“I am in no mood to clean up after them.” Louis lets Zayn know an hour later when everyone is done with their food and they have to bring the deserts out.

He pours the last reminder of the wine bottle in the blonde girls’ glass at her request, and then starts to take the empty plates to the kitchen.

It’s half past nine when the entire restaurant clears out and Louis can finally take off his ridiculous apron. Louis is surprised to see that everyone is already in their rooms, since he doesn’t see anyone on the upper decks on their way back, around ten.

When they get back to third class, however, he can hear music coming from God knows where, and countless shouts and laughs.

There is a party going on in their hallway, and every door is opened. There is smoke everywhere (Louis isn’t sure if it’s weed or cigarettes - probably both), and there are people crowding up the hallway, drunkenly dancing.

“This is fucking sick!” Zayn yells at him over the music as they reach their room to get dressed in some normal clothes.

Niall is snogging some girl on his bed and Liam is nowhere to be seen, so Louis quickly changes into a pair of skinny jeans, a white tank top, and a black jacket. He pulls a beanie over his head since it’s cold outside, which is ridiculous since it’s already April - Louis hates the cold.

“Where are you going?” Zayn asks him when he sees Louis grabbing his cigarette pack and a lighter.

“Out for a smoke. Come with me.”

“I think I’m gonna stay here and roll a spliff.”

“Roll one for me too, I’ll be back in ten.” He asks Zayn, who nods.

On his way out, Louis whistles at Niall who is now shirtless under the girl. It doesn’t take long for him to find the elevator and press the top button that would lead him right on the highest deck. He knows it’s first class, but he can’t be bothered since no one is out there at this hour anyway.

When the elevator opens, he’s surprised to see Liam standing there, shirtless with his hair disheveled, and a smile on his lips.

“Alright mate?” Louis asks and Liam gulps but nods nonetheless. “Care for a smoke?”

Liam shakes his head. “No, thanks, I’d better get back to our room before I freeze my balls off.”

“Where were you?”

There’s a suggestive tone in Louis’ voice that Liam catches and grins.

“I’ll tell you some other time.”

Louis watches him get in the elevator and press the button for their floor.

“See you.” He mumbles.

He then turns around and starts walking towards the back of the ship, where he finds a bench to lay down on, and lights up his fag.

Chapter Text

When Harry opens his eyes, all he sees is pitch black. He’s on his back in his and Taylor’s king sized bed, and he can’t sleep. He hasn’t been sleeping well ever since he learned that he has to get married to her and there are little chances that he’ll get out of it somehow.

Taylor is sleeping next to him, so he turns with his back to her and checks the time on his phone. It’s a bit past 11 and he’s never felt more miserable than he does right now. He thinks back when he was sixteen and he sliced his wrists for the first time, when his parents forced him into a relationship with her.

He didn’t have anything against her; she wasn’t the reason for his daily suicidal thoughts and his past three attempts. His parents were the main reason for his depression. No one even knew about his thought, because he made sure he didn’t get caught the three times he actually tried taking his life. He was a coward, and he hated himself for it.

The first time was when he was sixteen, right after he got together with Taylor and tried cutting his wrists. He filled a bathtub, got in, and then proceeded to cut a deep, long line from his wrist to his elbow. He fell into unconsciousness but woke up a few hours later with a numb arm in a tub filled with blood. He managed to clean up everything and bandage his arm before his parents got home.

Harry tried hanging himself from the fan in his room the second time when he was seventeen. Once he kicked the chair from under his feet, he hung in the air for about thirty seconds before the scarf ripped and he fell to the ground.

The last time he tried killing himself was on his eighteenth birthday, with his family right downstairs celebrating his ‘adulthood’. He found his father’s gun hidden in a drawer and placed it right against his temple before pulling the trigger. A few seconds passed and Harry opened his eyes to see that he wasn’t dead. He then noticed that his father’s gun was empty and he couldn’t find any other bullets.

So he put the gun back and walked downstairs to celebrate his birthday with his soon to be wife. He knew there was no way of getting out of the horrible situation. It was just that he was not interested in a relationship with her. Or with a female in general.

He learned that when he was fifteen and he snogged his best friend Jack at a party, who he fell in love with just after that incident.

Harry felt like his life was spiraling downwards, in a giant black hole that suffocated him and from which he couldn’t get out of no matter how much he tried. This was not him; he didn’t want to be forced into a marriage and he didn’t want his parents to dictate how his life should be.

He wanted to be free, to make his own decisions for once. Sometimes he wishes he could run away from everything, just leave; but he can’t because his parents are still supporting him financially and they would literally kill him.

Harry gets out of bed abruptly and goes into the walk-in closet to pick out some clothes. He dresses up with his best ones; after all, he wants to look his best one last time.

After he makes sure that Taylor is still asleep, he silently walks down the stairs and into the living room, and without leaving any kind of goodbye/suicide letter behind, he leaves the suite.

It’s a three-minute walk to the back of the ship, and it’s just his luck that their suite is located on the highest deck; death is definitely going to be a success this time.

There is no one out on the deck at this time of night, except for two members of the crew, who are currently cleaning the giant pool.

He walks past them, wondering whether they can tell what he has in mind, or what he’s about to do. Then he begins to run, and tries to ignore the way his face feels like it’s about to break from the heavy wind. He’s panting but he doesn’t stop; he won’t stop this time.

The next thing he knows is that he’s gripping into the railing, looking down at the water under him.

It’s cold as fuck and the water looks sharp, like it would kill him the second he hits it. He doesn’t mind though; that’s the point.

Harry takes a large gulp before he places his left foot on the railing and quickly climbs over it, hanging over the water as to see it better. He’s contemplating if it’s actually worth it. He always does, he always chickens out in the last moment.

"Don’t do it."

Harry startles and turns his head, almost losing his balance as he looks at the man. He’s gripping into the railing like his life depends on it- literally.

"Step back!" he warns, not moving. "Stay where you are or I’ll let go."

The man looks at him with an unreadable expression.

"No, you won’t.”

Harry looks at him incredulously, seemingly outraged.

“What do you mean I won’t ? Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. You don’t even know me.”

The man takes the cigarette out of his mouth and throws it over the railing.

“You would’ve done it already.” He says as he moves closer, in a careful manner, probably because he doesn’t want to scare Harry.

“Please leave me alone, you’re distracting me.” Harry pleads, but doesn’t move an inch, still watching the man.

“I can’t, I’m involved now. So if you’re going to jump, I’m going to have to jump in there after you.”

He then proceeds to take off his Vans and jacket, letting them fall on the floor next to him. He’s wearing a revealing tank top underneath, allowing Harry to see the ‘It Is What It Is’ tattoo under his collarbones.

“You can’t… you can’t do that. You’ll die as soon as you hit the water.”

“It’ll hurt, I know. But to be honest, I’m more concerned about the water being cold during this time of year.”

Harry frowns and looks down at the water for a second, before he looks back at Tattoo Man.

“How cold?”

Really cold. Just a few degrees over. When I was younger I used to go skating on a lake near my house during the winter. My mother always scolded me for it, since the ice was really thin and I could’ve died any second. I never listened to her, but one time it actually happened. The ice broke and I fell in the lake.”

“How… how did that feel?”

“It felt like thousands of knives stabbing me all over my body at the same time. I couldn’t breathe, and all I could feel and think about was the excruciating amount of pain. Which is why I don’t really look forward to jumping in there after you.”

“But that’s…” Harry stops for a second because his voice is shaking and Tattoo Man is looking at him as if he can see right into his soul. “That’s how I feel every day.”

“Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” The man says before he grips into the railing, ready to climb over it too. “But if you think this is what’s best for the both of us, then go ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”

“You’re crazy!” Harry exclaims.

“That’s what everyone says, but right now you’re the one hanging off the back of a ship in the middle of the night.” He pauses. “So come on, give me your hand and get down from there. You can fix whatever it is that brought you here.”

Harry hesitates, and he can see the offered hand with the corner of his eye. He knew he wouldn’t have jumped anyway, with or without the man’s speech.

Before every single attempt he always used to hesitate, because there was always this small thought in the back of his head wondering “What if tomorrow it’s going to get better?” “What if something is going to happen in a week and I’ll be happy?”

With one last sharp intake of breath, he puts his right hand out and takes it, not missing how he entirely engulfs the smaller hand in his giant one.

Tattoo Man exhales, relieved when they’re face to face. He’s a lot smaller than Harry, so he has to look up as he introduces himself.

“I’m Louis Tomlinson, by the way.”

“Harry Edward Styles.”

“What a posh name.” Louis smiles and Harry softly laughs.

“Wait, I thought your name was Tom?”

“It’s a long story. So if anyone asks, I’m Tom Parker, okay?”

Harry nods and steps up to climb back on the ship, but his converse slips on the metal and the next thing he knows; he’s hanging over the water, the only thing holding him being Louis.

He screams for help as Louis struggles to pull him over the railing.

“Hey, it’s alright, I got you. I won’t let go!” Louis assures him. “Now try to pull yourself up.”

Harry does as asked, and actually manages to climb up and over the railing, but then gravity finally kicks in and he falls down to the ground, pulling Louis down and on top of him.

They stare at each other for a couple of seconds, neither of them moving, until their staring contest is interrupted by two men dressed in uniform that come running towards them, probably after hearing Harry’s screams.

“What is going on here?” one of them asks as he looks at Harry, at Louis and his tattooed arms, and then at his discarded clothes, before he puts two and two together.

“Step away from him and do not move!” the man yells. “Get Mr. Abbey!”

The other man leaves quickly and Louis only gets to put his shoes and jacket on before the officer returns with five other men, one of them being Ben, and two of them Louis recognizes from dinner. He feels someone pull at his hands and then he’s being handcuffed while someone else puts a blanket around Harry.

“This is completely unacceptable!” one of the men from the table yells, heavily gesticulating with his giant hands. “What made you think you could put your hands on my son? I will not tolerate having a faggot touch my son! I don’t want him getting your- your disease.”

This must be his father then, Louis thinks.

His ears and eyes are on fire, and he’s never wanted to punch someone so bad. He looks at Harry, who’s sitting on the bench he was lying on earlier, shoulders slumped, all wrapped up in a blanket. He’s sad and his father’s words seem to hurt him, judging by the way he frowns and looks down at the ground.

“Who gave you permission to step on the upper deck outside of working hours?” Ben asks, stopping Mr. Styles from slapping Louis around.

“I was out for a smoke and I saw Harry l-“

“It was an accident. I was… um… I was leaning over the railing to, uh, to look down at the um- the propellers because I couldn’t sleep so I came out for some fresh air and… I slipped. But Mr. To-Parker was quick and managed to grab me before I fell.” Harry stops to look at Louis, whose wrists are starting to hurt from how tight the have been put on him. “He saved my life.”

“Is that true?” Ben asks him and Louis nods quickly, feeling Mr. Styles’ eyes boring into him.

“Well, the boy is a hero then!” one of the officers rushes, obviously bored by the whole situation. “I think this calls for a glass of Scotch, eh?”

Mr. Styles throws him another look before he turns around and barks at Harry to follow him inside.

“Perhaps a little something for the boy?” the other officer suggests.

Mr. Styles stops. “Very well, Mr. Abbey.” He then looks for something through his coat, and pulls out his wallet. “Mr. Swift, a ten should cover it.”

“Is that how much you care about me?” Harry asks and Louis can hear how his voice almost breaks.

Mr. Styles throws him a look. “Fine.” He turns his head to look at Louis, and there’s nothing but disgust in his eyes as he speaks. “You should join us for dinner tomorrow evening to… entertain us all with your heroic tale and whatever it is that you do.”

Louis grits his teeth. “Sure.”

Mr. Styles gives him a onceover before he shakes his head and turns around to finally leave. Louis stares at their backs until they completely disappear, and then lays back down on the bench to start chain-smoking again.

When he gets back to his room one hour later, the hallway is silent and everyone seems to have fallen asleep. He gets into bed without making any noise and falls asleep with Harry Styles on his mind, wondering whatever might’ve happened to him that he had no other way out.


Zayn shakes him awake the next day with an annoyed expression on his face.

“Get your ass out of the fucking bed, you idiot, we have a shift on the upper deck in ten minutes.”

“Can I just call in sick for the day?”

“If you don’t move, Winston is going to fire both of us and we’ll have to get off the ship in America.”

“Calm your ti-“

Zayn pulls the sheets from under him, causing Louis to fall down from his bed.

“Also, a woman dropped off a black suit in Tom’s name a few minutes ago? Mind telling me what that’s about?”

“Fuck.” Louis groans and sits up on the floor, rubbing his temples. “Oh, yeah. I was invited to dinner with some rich people last night after I saved that curly guy from falling off the ship.”

Louis doesn’t tell Zayn what actually happened; it’s not his place to. So he gets up and gets dressed in his work clothes. He pins the nametag to one of his tank tops since it’s really sunny outside and he’d definitely sweat his brains out if he wears the black shirt they were given. And if anyone has a complaint about his uniform – well, they can suck his dick.

They get to the upper deck just in time for their shift, and after they check in, Zayn takes the small bistro and Louis the poolside. This means that all he has to do is walk around, take everyone’s order and after that just refilling drinks or clean after a bunch of rich people.

He already hates it and he hasn’t even started yet.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks and fakely smiles at the blonde girl he recognizes from the night before.

“Yeah. An iced coffee and a Mojito.”

Louis nods and leaves, going through the last five orders in his head so he can place them all on a tray and make less walks to the bar.

“Two iced coffees, a mojito, two Budweiser’s, a Piña Colada, and a bottle of water.” He tells Niall, who’s already started getting or making the drinks, while Louis walks back to the pool with yet another order of seven.

When he gets back to the blonde girl with her drinks, he’s surprised to see Harry lying on the lounge chair next to her, only wearing his swimming trunks. His nose is buried in a magazine, sunglasses on the top of his nose.

“Here’s your iced coffee… and your Mojito.” He talks as he places the drinks on the table between them. At his voice, Harry looks up from the magazine.

“L-Tom! H- Oops.” He says and accidentally knocks the iced coffee over with his elbow because he wanted to sit up properly and shake Louis’ hand.

“Hi.” Louis answers, and then bends down to take the glass. “Do you want a refill?” he asks Harry, but the girl answers instead.

“Yes, please.”

She’s obviously annoyed and then turns to scold Harry for it as Louis walks away.

Once everyone has their drinks, Louis sits up on one of the bar stools and turns to watch the poolside, just in case someone waves him over. And if he stares at Harry and the blonde more than anyone else, well then, that’s completely coincidental.

It’s not long before she raises her hand and snaps her fingers at Louis, who grits his teeth. He will in no way tolerate people treating him like trash.

But he plasters a smile on his face regardless as he makes his way over there.


“Can I get a bottle of water, please?” she asks as she sips the last remains of her iced coffee. That’s when Louis’ eyes fall on the hand that’s gripping the glass, more specifically on the giant rock that’s on her ring finger.

He realizes that this must be Harry’s fiancée. There’s something that feels a lot like disappointment in Louis’ gut, and he doesn’t even know where it comes from, since he doesn’t even know the boy.

Before he gets too carried away with his thoughts, he turns around and walks back over to the bar to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

When he hands the water to the girl, she doesn’t thank him before she gets up from the lounge chair, wraps a towel around her waist and walks away.

“Quite a… snappy fiancée you got there.” He tells Harry, who is already looking at him; magazine completely forgotten in his lap.

“She’s quite alright, but she has her moments sometimes.” Harry laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Last night was, um- I don’t know what came over me. And I want to apologize for it. Also… you don’t have to come to dinner if you don’t want to. It’s going to be boring.”

“How can rich people be boring?” Louis asks in a sarcastic tone.

“They can if you’re one of them.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you-“

“That’s alright. I’m used to it.”

Louis feels like shit for making Harry sad and putting him down. He usually doesn’t care if someone’s offended by his words (he’s a douchebag; he knows), but this time it feels different.

“You’re used to people offending you, or people calling you boring?”

“I’m used to people making jokes about me.”

“Honestly, that wasn’t my intention.” Louis says and every single fiber in his body wants Harry to believe him. In response, Harry gives him yet another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“So, about this dinner… do you have any advice for me?”

“Yeah, don’t come.” Harry bitterly laughs and Louis allows himself to sit down on Taylor’s lounger. “If you come, they’ll literally eat you alive. They won’t settle until they’ve put you to shame and made fun of you in every way possible.”

Louis can see someone else waving him over.

“Is that supposed to scare me, Styles?” he smirks. Harry looks at him surprised, probably because he wasn’t expecting that type of answer.

“Not at all, Tomlinson. Okay, maybe a bit. But I’m not lying.”

“And I’m not scared.” Louis says before he gets up and leaves, hurrying towards a lady that was waving her hand impatiently.


Louis spends lunch at a small restaurant in the lobby with Zayn, Niall, Liam, and Eleanor. They don’t have anything else planned until later when they have shifts at dinner. Well, everyone except for Louis, apparently.

Ben came over to them a few minutes ago to let Louis know that he was excused from work tonight, by the request of Mr. Styles. And then Louis told everyone what he told Zayn, since they wouldn’t stop staring and asking questions.

“Eleanor and I will be splitting your tables, then.” Zayn says. “I call dibs on table 24. Can’t wait to see you gettin’ roasted, mate.”

Everyone laughs and Louis throws him an annoyed look, to which Zayn replies with a kiss. (And a blowjob right after they leave the restaurant, but that’s not really important.)


“So, what’s this I hear about some lower class waiter joining us for dinner?” Harry’s mother asks no one in particular during lunch.

Harry sets his knife and fork back on the table, prepared for whatever outburst his father is going to have.

“This punk faggot caught Harry yesterday as he was leaning over the railing to watch the propellers, out of all things.”

“He’s gay?” Taylor asks and Harry bites his lip so hard he’s sure there’s going to be blood soon.

“I don’t know, but he saved my life so how about we focus on that?” Harry tells his father, who looks at him with a deadly expression, and huffs.

“Wait. Is he that guy who served us at the pool today?”


“He’s nice. A bit slow, though.”

Harry’s father changes the subject then, and everyone starts talking about the upcoming wedding that’s in less than a week.

“I’m full. Excuse me.” Harry mumbles and gets up from the table, plate half full. No one calls him back, so he keeps going until he exits the restaurant.

He stops at the pool bar and sits himself down on one of the stools as he orders a Mojito.

“You alright?” the blond bartender asks, and Harry looks down at his nametag to learn that his name is Niall.

“Uh, sure?”

Niall hands him his drink shortly after and Harry drinks it quickly, even though there’s not enough alcohol in it to actually make his throat burn.

He’s about to leave when someone behind him orders a beer and Harry turns around to see Louis standing there with a smirk on his face. He’s not in his work clothes anymore and Harry looks him up and down because the jean shorts he’s currently wearing show off his tanned legs.

Louis probably noticed that he’s being checked out because his smirk widens and he sits down next to Harry.

“See something you like, Curly?”

“Um.” Harry can feel his face heating up which causes Louis to laugh, and his eyes crinkle beautifully. “Oh, I want to apologize in the name of my father for calling you a… you know. The ‘f’ word. And, um- assuming your sexuality.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve been called worse.”

“Was he wrong?” Harry can’t help but ask.

“About what?”

“About your sexuality.”

“Why? You interested?”

“I have a fiancée.” Harry blurts out and Louis raises his eyebrows.

“You don’t seem happy about it.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Tell me, then.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Even better. This way you don’t have to be ashamed of me.”

Harry stares at him for a few seconds. “Alright, I guess. Can we go for a walk, though? I don’t-“


Louis takes his bottle from the bar and waits for Harry to get down from the stool before they start walking along the deck, right by the lifeboats.

They don’t talk for a while; Louis takes occasional sips from his beer while Harry looks out to the ocean and tries to think of a way to start the conversation.

“Okay, look. Um… I know what you’re thinking after last night.”

Louis turns his head to stare at him and Harry stops abruptly.

“What am I thinking?”

“Poor little rich boy, what does he know about misery when he has everything he wants?”

“Not at all, actually. What I’m thinking right now is what happened to this boy to make him think he had no way out?” Louis responds and leans against the railing.

“Well, my… I’m so sick of the world I live in. Everyone around me only cares about money and I feel like no one even cares about me. My parents don’t pay me attention unless they want something from me. They think that I’m ready to get married at nineteen and they already planned this huge wedding that’s going to take place as soon as we dock in New York.”

Louis looks at him without saying anything, so Harry continues, looking right at him.

“Over fife hundred invitations have gone out without my consent. I feel like… like I’m standing in a crowded room, screaming from the top of my lungs, but no one can hear me because their heads are too far up their asses.”

Harry finishes his rant by taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

Louis thinks I’m an idiot now; great. He thinks and bites his lip anxiously.

“Do you love her?”


“Do you love Taylor?”

“You shouldn’t be asking me this. She’s my fiancée.”

“It’s a simple question; do you love her or not?”

“It doesn’t matter if I love her, we’re getting married.”

“That’s not what I asked, though.”

“I’m not feeling comfortable talking to you about this.” Harry tells him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, you don’t need to feel attacked right now, I’m not trying to put you-“

“I should leave. I’m sorry for, uh, taking your time.”

Louis doesn’t even get to call after him because Harry has already disappeared inside, cursing himself for talking to Louis about his problems. He doesn’t want Louis to think he’s a freak, but he probably does now anyway.


At ten to seven in the evening, Eleanor is fastening Louis’ tie for him while Liam educates him about how he should behave at the table in front of rich people. Louis isn’t listening though, because he’s actually too nervous to focus on one thing.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Zayn assures him from where he’s leaning against the door, already in his waiter uniform because their shifts start at seven.

“I know. But I want to. Wouldn’t miss a chance of actually tasting caviar. Always wondered what all the fuss was about.”

Eleanor laughs and steps back, admiring Louis from head to toe.

“You don’t look half bad.” She smiles.

“Of course I don’t.”

They leave the room after that because they’re already late and Ben will kill them if he finds out they came in late for work. Louis goes with them through the kitchen but exits first, walking right over to the table he was supposed to dine at, and he’s surprised (and not in a pleasant way) to see that there’s a different table now, twice as big as the one from the night before.

“Good evening.” He greets and sits down on the only vacant chair at the table, between two women dressed in some really expensive looking dresses.

Harry is right across from him, silent with slouched shoulders and a sad expression on his face.

Louis doesn’t even get to say something else because Zayn is already at their table to take their orders, looking at Louis with a cheeky grin.

“Good evening. May I take your orders on the beverages?” he asks and Louis almost laughs at loud. He orders a beer though, much to everyone’s disgust, while the rest of them order either wine or scotch.

When Zayn leaves, Louis can feel all the eyes on him and he’s quite uncomfortable under the sharp stares.

“So… Mr. Parker, tell us about the accommodations in third class. I hear they’re quite good on this ship.” Mr. Styles snorts and looks at Louis with a superficial expression.

“Best I’ve seen, Sir. Hardly any rats.”

The people at the table laugh, and Louis can see how even Harry cracks a smile while his father fumes at the answer.

Zayn comes back with their drinks and winks at Louis when he places his beer down, something that probably didn’t go unnoticed by the people at the table.

Louis then buries his head in the menu and waits patiently for Zayn to come back and take their order. When he eventually comes, Louis orders a lobster and the caviar, much to everyone’s surprise.

“So where do you live, Mr. Parker?” another man asks and once again, the entire attention shifts to Louis.

 “Well, right now my address is Oasis Of The Seas, and after this I’m on God’s good humor.” He answers. Harry smiles, eye twinkling, probably because his father is getting angrier for being outsmarted by the second.

“Did you know that Mr. Swift here built this ship? It’s said to be unsinkable. Not that you’d have a lot of knowledge in machinery or such.”

“Well, Sir, as little as I may know about ships, I highly doubt that you or any of your associates built this ship with your own hands. Taking the credit for someone else’s work because you’re loaded, however, that’s something I don’t doubt.”

Louis takes a sip of his beer as Mr. Styles clenches his fist, tension clearly building up at the table.

“Do you have any plans for your future, Mr. Parker?” the woman next to Harry asks, trying to change the subject.

“Not really, ma’am. I like waking up in the morning not knowing what’s going to happen or…” he makes eye contact with Harry, who seems quite interested in what Louis has to say, “who I’m going to meet. Just last night, I was out on the deck having a smoke, and now I’m here, dining in first class.”

Some people at the table seem genuinely impressed by his answer, and Louis smiles, looking at Harry swiftly to see him also smiling, showing off a dimple in his right cheek.

“Excuse me.” Louis then says and gets up from the chair to go to the kitchen and fill Eleanor in on how everything was going. He also finds Zayn there, waiting for their food and talking to Niall.

“How’s it going?” Eleanor asks excitedly.

“Good. I think Harry’s father wants to kill me, though.”

Niall laughs and places his hand on Louis’ shoulder.

“He thinks he’s better than everyone else on this ship just because he’s got the most money, so don’t take it personally.”

“Are you comin’ to the party later or are you going to go drink Brandy with the rich people?” Zayn asks him.

“I’m coming with you, of course. Can’t take it much longer, to be honest.”

“Why don’t you invite your curly friend too?”

“Harry? Do you think he’d want to come?”

“Worth a try, right? I bet he’s never been to a proper party before.”

“Definitely not. But how do I invite him without everyone hearing? I don’t think his parents would be too keen on letting him come to a lower class party in the middle of the night.”

“Hold on.”

Zayn rips out a paper from his notepad, scribbles something on it, and then hands it back to Louis.

“Meet me by the elevator on the upper deck at eleven?” Louis reads the note out loud. Zayn nods.

“Now go back before they think you’re planning on poisoning their food.”

“Right. Oh, and Zayn?”


“Do me a favor?”


“Will you spit in his father’s drink for me?”

“Sure, babe.”

Louis smirks and turns around to walk back to the table, pushing the note into the pocket of his blazer.

Dinner goes by smoothly, and by the end of it, Louis is quite pleased with himself, since he ate everything he’d ordered (turns out that caviar isn’t as good as they say), and he even exchanged a few words with Harry at one point, which meant that the younger boy wasn’t mad at him anymore.

“It was nice dining with you tonight.” He lies as he gets up, placing his cutlery on the plate. Then he proceeds to shake hands with every single man at the table, and of course Mr. Styles squeezes his hand a lot harder than necessary.

When he gets to Harry, he shakes his hand and manages to slip the small note in his palm. Harry looks at him weirdly and Louis nods, before he walks away from the table, happy that it’s finally over.

As soon as he gets back into the kitchen, he’s bombarded with questions from Zayn, Niall, Liam, and Eleanor, who are all eager to find out how it went.

“It was good. Caviar doesn’t taste as good as they say. My whole life has been a lie.” He dramatically says as he sits down on a chair nearby.

“Did you give richboy the note?”

“I did.”

“Do you think he’ll come?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”


It’s five minutes to eleven and Harry can’t fall asleep. He’s spooning Taylor because she asked him to, and his left arm has already gone numb. He thinks about the note Louis gave him an hour earlier, asking him to meet at the elevator on his floor.

He’s not sure what Louis has in mind, but he’s dying to find out, and since he can’t fall asleep, there’s nothing left to do.

Harry slowly pulls his numb arm from under Taylor, careful not to wake her up, and then he gets up from the bed to walk to his closet and pick out some decent clothes.

It’s a bit past eleven when he leaves the room with his key in the pocket of his jeans, and he can already see Louis waiting for him by the elevators.

“Decided to show up then, eh, Curly?” he asks and Harry smiles, nodding.

“Sorry for making you wait.”

“Don’t worry, I just got here.”

Louis presses a button and the elevator doors open, so they both get in. After the button for the third floor is pressed, Louis turns to Harry.

“Quite posh attire for a party.” he observes, and Harry takes a look at his black jeans and button up, and then at Louis’ skintight jeans and band shirt.


“You ever been to a proper party?”

“Depends on how you define a proper party.”

“Shots, music, dancing, snogging, you know.”

“Um… no, I haven’t really.”

“Well, then you’re about to.” Louis smirks and Harry must admit, he’s a bit nervous because Louis’ eyes are mischievously glimmering.

But to hell with it, he’s sick and bored of being the perfect boy who never does anything fun. These are his last days of remote freedom, and he wants to take advantage of them.

And Louis might be just the right person to help him do that.