***Harry Styles***
Monday, December 26th, 2012 – North London, England

I tried to enjoy Christmas with my family, but it just wasn’t going to happen. I was a good actor, but not good enough to fool my mom. She kept asking what was wrong. I told her I was just tired from the tour. She had been worried about all the fame from day one – I was only seventeen, and she thought that was too young for this lifestyle, but she supported me anyway, as did the rest of my family. When I knew I couldn’t take any more and that I needed to be by myself, I made up an excuse that we had an emergency rehearsal Tuesday afternoon that I had to get to, so I left before lunch on Tuesday, the day after Christmas, and drove back to my house, knowing Louis wouldn’t be back for another couple of days and I could have some much needed alone time.

I heard the key in the front door turn that night and a sinking feeling in my stomach – I knew it was Louis, nobody else had a key. But I was in the living room, where the front door opened to, and I didn’t have enough time to dart up to my room and lock myself in it like I had so cleverly planned for his return. He stepped inside and looked at me, his face a mixture of concern, confusion, worry, fear, and – was that relief?

I hadn’t had enough time to plan what I was going to say. I needed more time. Were we even going to have a conversation about it? Maybe he would just be his normal, carefree self and act like it didn’t bother him. What if it didn’t bother him? That made my stomach knot up as well – I didn’t want to cause him any pain, but I wanted him to have some sort of reaction, some sort of emotion towards me.

Louis shut the door behind me and set his duffel bag down. For some reason, our eyes had locked, and couldn’t unlock, like magnets. He took a deep breath.

“You good?” he asked me. No, I thought, but I nodded. I wanted to ask him the same, make sure he was okay, but I still hadn’t found my voice yet. “Good,” he replied, his voice normal and even, upbeat as usual. “I was worried about you, Mate.” Finally, I tore my eyes away from his as he came and sat down on the other end of the couch, just one cushion separating us. I bit my lip. “Why did you turn your phone off?” he said after a few moments of the most awkward silence of my life. I cleared my throat, looking for my voice.

“I – I needed to clear my head,” was the best response I could come up with, one that I hoped wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“Is it clear?” Louis prompted. I shook my head.

“Not even close,” I said, trying but failing to laugh.

“Well, maybe I can help clear it, then,” he suggested. A few days ago, I would’ve said yes, please do. Louis was always good at helping me and giving me advice. It was like he had taken me under his wing since I was the baby of the group. Maybe that’s why I was attracted to him? I thought about that for a split second before deciding that definitely wasn’t it. There was so much more to Louis.

“I – look, I’m sorry,” I finally said. I was sorry, too, because I was pretty sure my actions on Louis’s birthday cost me my best friend. “If you want to move out and kick me out of the band and never talk to me again, I understand.” I looked at the floor, not wanting to see the excitement in Louis’s eyes when I told him that. To my surprise, he laughed. I glanced at him, my brow furrowed.

“I’m not going to move out,” he said. “Unless you want me to?” I shook my head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “And I’m sure as hell not kicking you out of the band. Unless you’re wanting to kick me out, in which case I’d kick you out first, you know, to keep up my appearance.” I was able to let a half smile appear on my face at that – typical Louis. Everything was a joke.

But I didn’t want this to be a joke. This was serious. This was real. This was my life, my sexuality. I needed him to take it seriously. But I hated how awkward it was, and so I welcomed that one joke. I just shook my head to let him know I wasn’t planning on kicking him out of the band.

“Good,” he replied, standing up. “It’s settled then. Nobody’s kicking anyone out of the band, or the house, or their lives,” he emphasized the last three words, looking pointedly at me. “Right?”

“Right,” I nodded, wondering if I was going to get away with not having to talk about it after all. No such luck.

“Look, when you kissed me,” Louis started, turning serious again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, bracing myself. But he didn’t continue, and I opened my eyes. He had bitten down on the knuckle of his thumb, as though he were trying to stop himself from saying whatever it was he wanted to say. I jumped up from my seat on the couch to face him.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I hate myself for it!” At the same time, Louis pulled his hand away, having decided to say what he was thinking.

“I liked it,” Louis said. I blinked.

“You – you what?” I asked, shocked, thinking I had heard things, that I had heard him say what I wanted him to say, not what he actually said. “You…liked it?” I repeated. Louis nodded, and I lowered myself back onto the couch, processing.

“Look, it’s not like I – I like boys, or anything,” Louis said, walking back over to me and sitting down on the couch, right next to me this time, his body facing mine as I stared at my hands, “at least, I never did before, or I never knew I did. But when I met you, Harry, there was – I don’t know, there was something about you. I didn’t understand it. I still don’t. I never thought you felt it too, whatever it is. But I guess you do. So…” he trailed off and shrugged, not sure where to go from there. I looked at him, what he just said registering within me.

“Wait,” I said. “When you first met me?” I repeated. There was no way he had been feeling this all this time, too. Louis shrugged and nodded.

“The kiss just made it real, took it out of my imagination and confirmed you felt it, too,” he explained. I just stared at him. What had been a nightmare just two days ago was quickly turning into a dream come true, and I didn’t know how to handle it. “Like I said, I don’t know where I’m at,” Louis continued. “You sure know how to make a person do some serious soul searching. I don’t know what this is, if it is anything, but I’m not writing it off. I want to figure me out. I want you to figure you out. I want us to figure us out, whatever that means. But I don’t know how to do that.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say his eyes watered for a split second before he blinked a few times in a row to keep the wetness away.

“I guess we just be open and honest with each other,” I said, slowly, to watch his reaction. To my excitement, he nodded in agreement, slowly as well. “I mean, we’ve never had a problem doing that before,” I continued, wanting to run with this conversation that was going so well and that he was so easily accepting of; “this doesn’t change anything. I’m really sorry I caught you off guard, Lou, but I’m glad I don’t have to hide my feelings anymore. At least you know, and as far as I’m concerned you’re still my best friend, no matter what, but I understand if it gets to be too much for you.”

“Harry, you’re still my best friend, too,” Louis promised me. I felt myself smile – I didn’t remember telling my lips to do that. Louis smiled too, his famous smile. “How was Christmas, Mate?” he asked, changing the subject so nonchalantly as though we had just had a conversation about the weather.

“Um,” I said, caught off guard, then quickly adjusting to the change of subject, almost welcoming it, although the last conversation had gone much better than I ever could have hoped, “good. Quiet. How was yours?”

The rest of the night was fine, and it didn’t feel like anything had happened or changed. I credited that to Louis – if anyone could make an awkward situation not awkward, it was him, and I couldn’t have been happier. Until I turned in for bed.

Notes

Directioners,

What do you think of this confrontation?

Eek!