Chapter Text
He was not drunk. The thought was prevalent as he made his way through his house, through his party. Sweat matted his ever-longer hair to the back of his neck. The mass of writhing bodies produced too much heat to be comfortable. As he stumbled through the crowd, hands reached out to drag along his skin, both bare and clothed. He shrugged them all off with a sneer and continued walking. It was a heady feeling, to be wanted by all these people, but it wasn't what he needed right now. He made his way through with uneven strides until he reached the balcony. He didn't walk so much as trip out the doorway. Ok, maybe he was a little drunk. The fresh air would help. Maybe.
"Well, if it isn't our illustrious host. How're you feeling Styles?" Smoke curled around the words, breathing their meaning in the air before drifting away.
Harry jerked around, swaying a bit while his head struggled to catch up with the quick movement. He settled though as his eyes found his old acquisition turned friend. "Zayn, you fucker. I could have died. How would you have felt then?" There was only a little bit of a whine in his tone.
"Perhaps like a burden was lifted from my shoulders." His lips curled into a smirk. His eyes danced with mirth as he added, "I'd have one less problem without you."
Harry's groan could have caused an earthquake, "That was terrible. You listen to too much shitty pop music."
"Said the hipster."
It was Harry's turn to smirk, "I'm not a hipster..."
Zayn's mouth flattened into an unimpressed line, "Don't."
"...But I can make your hips stir."
Harry could see a flash of white as Zayn rolled his eyes. He made his way across the balcony to stand next to Zayn, leaning into him for support. He supposes he could use the sturdy, decorative railing that surrounded the balcony, but Zayn was more comfortable, and smelled better. Harry took a deep breath and let Zayn's cologne and smoke wash over him. Zayn just shook his head and mumbled about weirdoes that smell their friends. Everything else was quiet while they stared into the darkness, the blaring music inside just background noise. They stood there just enjoying each other's company and looking out over the gardens. A lot of memories were in those hedges, but Harry was too fuzzy to call them up with any sort of accuracy. When he tried, there was an inexplicable bear that he rode around on. That's definitely not right. Harry shook his head to clear it. "'M tired Zayn. Make the people go away so I can sleep."
"You're not tired, you're drunk... which was your purpose with this party. You do this every time."
Harry furrowed his brows and pouted, "Well yeah, it's expected yeah? What else am I supposed to do with all this time and money?" The pout slid into a filthy sort of smile, "After all, it's how I met you."
"Idiot." Zayn tried to be condescending but the word only came out fond. "You met me because you needed to scratch an itch and I'm hot. Or did you forget that I'm an escort?"
"Aw, Zaynie, you're not just an escort. You're my only real friend."
"Don't let Liam hear you say that. He'd make that face. You know the one. The kicked puppy one."
"Ok, you and Liam."
"Besides, I only love you for your money, you know that."
"No, you fucked me for my money, you love me for me now." A cheeky grin accompanied the drawling words. There was an impressive lack of slurring, despite the no doubt copious amounts of alcohol imbibed.
"If my memory isn't faulty, you fucked me." When Harry frowned, Zayn threw a fond arm around his shoulders. "Alright yeah, s'pose you're right. You're not bad for a spoiled rich kid."
"Heeeyyyyy."
"C'mon Haz, you're kind of an asshole to everyone who isn't me or Liam. You were even an ass to me in the beginning, but you were paying so I stayed." Zayn stroked his thumb over Harry's shoulder to soften the words.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm an asshole, I got it."
"Gonna get yourself in trouble one day, Haz."
"Don't you know Zayn? I am trouble."
"If I rolled my eyes any harder, I'd have fallen over the railing."
"You wound me. I thought you loved me. Woe is me." Harry draped himself over Zayn, letting his full weight rest on his friend.
"God, you're so dramatic. Yes, yes I love you alrigh? Now get off me you twat."
Straightening up just enough that he was on his own two feet, Harry began, "Speaking of love Zayn, darling, wonderful friend of mine..."
"What do you want?"
"Could you recommend someone from your, ahem, company... y'know, to keep me company?" Harry waggled his eyebrows as though his meaning could in any way be misconstrued.
Zayn cut his eyes over to give Harry an incredulous look. "You can't be serious."
"As the plague."
"You could waltz back in there and have anyone you liked up to your bedroom in like, ten minutes flat."
"They only want me because I'm rich."
"So instead you want to pay someone. Right, that makes loads of sense."
"C'mon Zayn, pleeeaaassseeeee? I'll do it even without a recommendation. I just figured you know what I like, and you know the people you work with. I know you'll give me the best."
"Yeah, fine. Whatever. I'll send you his page so you can request him ok?"
"Oooh, a man."
"I can show you a girl instead?"
"No! I mean uhm... no. I uh... a boy, erm... man, good. A man is good."
Zayn had no idea how Harry made everyone believe he was smooth and suave and a total asshole. "Excellent sentence. Well done." Harry just raised an elegant finger in front of his face. Zayn huffed out a sigh,
"Fine. Just don't say I didn't warn you."
"Warn me? What's he going to do, murder me? Poor business, that."
Zayn mumbled something that resembled, "He just might."
~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~
"You look like someone who could use a job."
" I have a job thanks," Louis replied with an eye roll.
"I'm offering you a better one."
Louis eyed her warily, taking in the expensive suit, the obviously designer heels, the sharp edge to her whole appearance. Obviously she was important. Quite frankly, Louis didn't care. "Look lady, I don't know who you are but I'm fine working at this little cafe. So unless you're going to order something, please leave me alone."
"Have it your way. Here's my card in case you change your mind. My offer is a lot of fun. Easy money if you will."
Louis accepted the card with a huff. "Fine, thank you, have a nice day."
He spent the rest of the shift subconsciously running his fingers over the pocket that housed the business card. He could use extra cash. He could use an adventure even more. What better adventure than to pick up a new job he knew nothing about? At the end of his shift he wandered home and locked himself in his room. He couldn't have his sisters getting nosy. He loved them to death but a little privacy was a luxury. He pulled out the card and read over it.
Denise Leone
Talent Scout
Syco Escort Service
If he had been drinking something, he'd have spit it out. He was stuck on "escort service." It couldn't possibly mean what he was thinking... could it? "Only one way to find out Louis. You said you wanted an adventure." He dialed the number listed on the card with shaking hands.
"Syco Escort Service, how may I direct your call?"
Louis blew out an unsteady breath, "Hi, uhm, Denise Leone gave me a business card with this number listed. Said to call if I wanted a job?"
"Name please?"
"Uh, Louis. Louis Tomlinson."
"Age?"
"Er... 19?"
"Any prior experience?"
A laugh snuck out of his mouth before he could stop it. "No ma'am, I have no experience being an escort."
"When would you be free for an interview Mr. Tomlinson?"
"Any day after 3pm I suppose."
"Great, I'll set you an appointment for tomorrow at 4. Have a nice day Mr. Tomlinson."
"Wait, should I wear a suit? What kind of interview? Where is it?" The only answer was a dial tone. "Goddamnit."
The next day at 3:30 Louis found himself pacing his room. He decided on his normal wardrobe, just spiffied up a bit. He had on maroon trousers, a white button up with a black collar, and his favorite black and white braces. He blew out a breath and gave himself one last look in the mirror. "Not bad Tommo, not bad at all." He raced downstairs where called out a quick, "I'm taking the car. I'll be back by dinner."
"Louis where are you going that you need the car? I have work tonight you know?"
"Just an interview Mom. I might get a new job. I'll be back in time I swear."
"Alright, drive safe. Love you."
"Love you too!" And he was out the door before his mom could see what he was wearing. She'd surely have more questions then. Using his phone as a GPS with the address he pulled off of their website, he quicklyfound his way to a tall building with a lot of reflective glass. "Here goes nothing I suppose."
He strolled in, head held high, feeling much younger than he had any right to, considering he was interviewing to be an escort, of all things.
"Hi, how may I help you?" The woman at the desk had the be the same woman he talked to on the phone.
"Hi, I'm Louis Tomlinson. I'm here for an interview at 4?"
"Welcome Mr. Tomlinson. I'll take you where you need to be."
After a lift ride that seemed to last forever, she led him to a big door with the name "Simon Cowell" on a plaque proudly displayed. "Here you are Mr. Tomlinson. Mr. Cowell will be interviewing you today."
"Thank you Ms..." Louis turned to learn her name but her heels were already clacking back to the lift. "Well nevermind then." He lifted a hesitant hand, unsure if he should knock or walk in since he was expected.
As he went to bring his hand against the door he heard, "Come in Louis."
"Right, because that's not creepy at all," he murmured to himself before pushing the door open and walking in.
There was an intimidating desk between Louis and who he assumed was Mr. Cowell, an equally as intimidating man. "Before you sit, give us a twirl."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Spin Louis. Like a fashion show. I want to see all of you before we start."
Louis spluttered a bit but did as he was told. Spinning slowly on the spot to show Mr. Cowell what he looked like. When he was again facing front, Mr. Cowell had his hands steepled in front of him and a smirk on his face. "Well well well, you're quite a catch aren't you?"
"Uhm, thank you Mr. Cowell?"
"Simon, please. You have a striking face. Good body type. Phenomenal ass. Could stand to gain some muscle but overall, very nice."
"I... Excuse me?"
"Come now, no need to be shy. You know what this interview is for. If you're going to sell your body, you need to be able to accept people looking at it and, at times, criticizing it."
"Right. Of course. May I sit now?"
"Where are my manners, of course you may sit." He gestured to the two chairs in front of the desk.
"Now, I only have a few questions for you. What do you know about escort services?"
"It's like being a hooker right? You get paid to sleep with people."
Simon laughed, "You're not wrong, but you're not exactly right either. My company has only the best people that get paid to accompany those that can afford it to parties, events, sometimes galas or premieres."
"Not sleep with them?"
"My employees may also be paid for more... carnal pleasures."
"Ok so, an escort is essentially paid to be arm candy?" Louis knew he was being crass and probably unprofessional, but he was just so confused as to what exactly was going on.
"Let me spell it out for you Louis. Some people will pay to have an escort accompany them to major events for whatever reason they use to justify it. Some people will pay an extra fee to have the escort accompany them to bed at the end of the night. Some people will pay simply to have the pleasure of an escort for the night. Syco deals exclusively with high end clients with expensive taste. Every client goes through a background check before any of my escorts is given to them. Does that make sense?"
"Sure but, why do you want me? I'm just a 19 year old who works in a cafe in a small town. Surely I can't compete with the likes of whoever you already have hired."
Simon shook his head and chuckled, "I've already mentioned that your ass is to die for. Do you know how many men would pay for someone like you to keep them company for a night? Let alone those that would pay to have your face displayed alongside theirs. Not to mention that you aren't nearly done maturing. I have a good feeling about you. So, are you interested?"
"I uhm, yeah, I suppose so."
"Excellent. I'll schedule you for training so you can jump right in. You begin tomorrow at 9."
"Wait, that's too soon! I have to quit my other job, find a way here, come up with an excuse for my mom. I can't just 'jump right in.'"
"Ok, next week then. Monday at 9. A car will be at your house to pick you up at 8:30. Wear comfortable clothes, a wardrobe will be provided as you go. You just need to sign this paperwork and you're free to go."
Louis couldn't believe that it had been three years since he met Simon and became an escort. Of all things for him to do. But now he had his own flat, his own car, his own life. He had friends from Syco and friends from around town. He had regulars for fuck's sake. He was damn good at his job and he was proud of it. He startled a bit when his phone went off. Not his personal phone, his work phone. His appointment phone.
"Harry Styles, 20 yrs old, wants you for the night"
He dials the number and waits for his agent to pick up. "Stan! Old buddy, old pal. Who's this Harry Styles bloke? What 20 year old can afford me?"
"Not sure Lou but he's got the money up front. Your page got the request just now."
"Staaaannnnnnn, I'm supposed to have a quiet night in tonight. I thought my bookings were supposed happen at least 24 hours in advance. That was a rule you put in place by the way." So he was whining. Sue him.
"Lou, he offered to pay double."
"Well then, now you're talking my language. Is he hot? Or should I gear up to fake a lot?"
"He's well fit. Curly brown hair. Green eyes. Really pink lips, holy shit, you'd think he was a girl."
"Hm, see this is why I require photos from my requests. Alright, what time?"
"As soon as possible. I'll text you the address."
"Thank's Stan. You're the man. Stan the man."
"Bye Lou."
Louis giggled at the click. Right. Now to go get fuckable and then get fucked. Louis stretched himself out and sauntered off to his bedroom to get changed. Show time Louis. Let's go show this Harry Styles a good time.