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“Alright don’t forget the mission, get Louis laid,” Louis shouted over the music.
“Don’t know who Louis is, but I support it.”
Louis turned towards the contributing voice and saw the bartender leaning in front of him, his elbows resting against the lip of the bar. He had brown hair that fell in loose curls just above his collar bones which were perfectly on show due to the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his abdomen. The shirt’s sleeves were cuffed up along his inked bicep and the pattern was something that Louis would expect a dad on vacation to wear, not a young bartender.
“He’s Louis,” Zayn said, jutting his thumb in Louis’ direction.
The bartender nodded approvingly, “then I definitely support it.”
Or the one where Louis went out one night after work, wanting to get laid, and then ended up meeting a bartender named Harry Styles.