Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Swim with me
I think I could see the beach
I know what’s underneath
I need you here with me
But we’re out in the open.”

The Beach, The NBHD

. . . 

Being able to endure the summer heat is, in Louis' modest opinion, one of his best qualities.

Its not that he hates summer, more that he would rather not live somewhere that is under the blaring heat of the sun every single fucking day, similarly to how he would imagine it is to live in the fiery depths of hell. Though, he might be slightly biased –– no, he's definitely biased. Because there are two places that get bombarded by the summer crowds this time of year: one being the surf shop further down the boardwalk where Liam sells surfboards and souvenirs to people who sport the equally buff, equally 'surfy-dude' cliché. The other being the ice cream parlour that Louis works at with Niall, the place that looks like it's been sucked straight out of the 1970's, opening up onto the boardwalk through a propped up yellow-striped awning.

And he doesn’t hate his job. He doesn’t even mind it very much. But summer in addition to everything else is like – it's the worst.

The hot and humid air clings to Louis’ skin and he plunges another ice cream scoop into steaming water, watching the water turn a murky mint green colour, watching the smiling faces in swim trunks and bikini’s, dripping with the ocean, walk off down the stretch trailing sand and laughter, sun hats bob along in the distance, the large Welcome to Breaker bay! sign casting a shadow over the boardwalk.

It’s late May, and things are just starting to pick up at the parlour, long lines and Louis moving harmoniously around Niall for hours, the sun beating down through cloudless skies, scorching orange onto the sand and the aqua blue parlour. Louis can see the waves of heat prickling along the ground as he climbs into the back of the shop holding a stack of waffle cones.

“D’you think James would protest to letting us put a better fan in here – or better yet, an AC unit?” Niall asks, sitting down on his yellow stool in one of those rare quiet moments, using a brochure to fan his face.

Louis shakes his head. “Already asked, costs too much and – ‘you boys have been working here for three summers, I think you’ll survive another one,’” he mocks, waving his free hand around vaguely and then leaning up to restock the shelves above the freezers.

Niall groans. “Yeah, because he only makes a small fuckin’ fortune in summer. Would he still be saying that when he finds us dead on the floor?” He uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face, his eyes falling longingly onto the ocean across the boardwalk and the sand.

“Don’t even think about ditching me here.” Louis warns.

Niall sighs. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You on the other hand,”

“Ni,” Louis sighs, rubbing his forehead agitatedly. He doesn’t want to get into this again.

Niall looks ready to get defensive when instead, he shoots up from his stool towards the cash register – “Hello! How can I help you?” – and Louis slouches and rubs his – already aching – wrist.

He occupies himself by refilling the freezers with stock from Gus’ van outside in the back parking lot, leaving the freezer doors open for longer than necessary to let the cool air soak into his skin.

The day passes in a blur of sun, sand and forced smiles, satisfying the beach crowd, day visitors packing bags of towels and water bottles into SUV’s, leaving with their sunburnt skin, returning to their jobs and schools and cities while Louis leans his elbows on the counter and watches the waves crash, white foam spreading onto the shore. The boardwalk quietens down until he cant see anything on the beach besides locals walking their dogs, couples on the pier, and peachy pinks spreading along the rim of the sky, fading into a hazy sunset.

Niall is bringing in the chalkboard sign from out the front of the parlour, todays special artfully written onto it: The Taste of Teenage Angst (hint: it’s Pineapple). (Niall likes to get creative with their ice cream names. Louis has learnt not to question it.)

“What a day,” Niall murmurs when he walks back into the parlour, his eyes are downcast, reaching his arms up to stretch. He sits on the stool next to Louis and puts his feet up on the edge of the counter. “Can’t get weather like this in Seattle.”

Louis sighs, leaning his shoulders back against the wall behind him. “Actually, I’ve heard the weather is quite nice.”

Niall frowns at the sarcasm. “That hurts, Louis.”

Based on Niall’s furrowed brow, Louis concludes with what he thinks is the best way to avoid this argument. Again. “No more Seattle talk for the week okay? All you do is make yourself upset.”

Niall lets out a heavy exhale then shrugs minutely. “Whatever. C’mon, lets go see if Liam’s still open, he’ll buy me some gelato, he’s a good friend like that.”

Louis stares at him. “We work at an ice cream parlour.”

“Don’t tell me how to live.”

Louis raises his hands. “Sorry, sorry.”

He reaches over the counter and unhooks the awning, letting it fall closed in front of them, cutting off their view to the beach. After locking up they walk along the boardwalk, dusted in sand, the sun setting in a deep orange across the sky, waves crashing, salt water in the air, on their tongues. The bright blue sign – Over The Falls – comes into view the further down they get, at the edge of the boardwalk next to the parking lot. Liam’s surf shop. He had said he was going for a ‘beach shack’ vibe when he had the remodelling – if a beach shack had shiny floor to ceiling windows that cost a small fortune.

The word CLOSED is painted onto a piece of driftwood that hangs off of the door next to a noticeboard covered in brightly coloured flyers. With the business Liam gets, Louis supposes he can run on his own schedule.

“Is it closed because he felt like napping early or do you think it has something to do with the fact that he’s back in town?” Niall asks, a suggestive curve to his lips.

Louis laughs, knowing very well that’s the reason. “Wouldn’t be surprised.”

He barely finishes speaking before a BMW speeds past them, music blasting, disappearing behind the trees as quickly as it came. Because speed limits don’t exist for those who can afford to buy this entire town.

Louis looks off into the direction the car went as he and Niall walk along the grass that lines the beach, caked in sand, so much sand, the sun streaking in purples and greys, wind blowing salt air past them. There are houses further down the beach, along the shoreline in the privately owned areas where the driveways are longer and the trees grow taller, housing pretty cars and pristine gardens, with their Ivy League schools, green grass and financially over-compensatory parents. Always only staying for the summer. Always leaving when rain hits the concrete and turns the water cold.

And I'll be leaving with them, Louis thinks solemnly as the street lights flicker on above them, the sand and grass cooling beneath their feet.

. . .

Todays Special: FREEDOM

“How very patriotic of you,” Louis says, watching as Niall stands the chalkboard sign outside of the parlour.

The sunrise bleeds across the ocean, streaks of red and pink glinting off of the waves. Figures pass on the boardwalk and the pier in yoga pants and basketball shorts, tanned bodies and dogs on leads. Louis makes green smoothies while Niall fiddles with the radio propped up on the wall. Surfers are already taking their boards out, zipping up wet suits and running towards the ocean before the summer crowds flood in. So early.

On one hand, at least they’re able to close up earlier today; Louis notes this when he sees some of the townspeople hanging hideous red, white and blue garlands across the boardwalk.

On the other hand, it means having to gather in the Breaker bay Town Hall tonight to commemorate the day an old white man stuck a flag in the dirt and decided he owned this land. It’s ridiculous, really, but it’s the same thing every year; mingling with the other families who find joy in interrogating him about every inch of his life with no regards for privacy.

Every. Single. Year.

Louis couldn’t be less thrilled about having to dress tidily and stand to the side while people with artificial teeth and artificial hair ask him things he doesn’t think they deserve to know, but he's grown accustomed to it he supposes. Whatever.

By midday, lines have formed and it’s got Louis and Niall working like clockwork. His only moments of sanity are when he can take a ten minute break and sit out the back with a cold can of Pepsi, fingers dampening from the condensation, and then back in the parlour when things start to move again. Up on the beach there are sun hats and beach towels, games of volleyball and bright blue coolers, there are bodies burning and red and white stripy umbrellas, kids playing under the pier where the water isn’t so rough but the waves still break against the wooden beams. Louis can hear their laughter from here, part of him itching to feel so void of worry. Must be nice.

They stop outside Over The Falls on their way home at sunset, Niall leaning against the window and cupping his hands around his eyes to peer in. “Li–am” he calls like a lost puppy into the glass.

“He isn’t there." Louis says. "Obviously got more important things to do with his time.”

Niall snorts. “He could’ve left a note or something: ‘be back in 5, banging a hot, pretentious artist who I claim to have zero interest in,’"

Louis smiles, shaking his head. “How absolutely inconsiderate of him.”

At home, the younger girls plaster themselves to Niall while Lottie flips through a magazine on the couch. Louis spends the later moments of sunlight folding laundry, and then Niall heads off to his house to get ready for the night. Louis throws on clothes that are about as formal as he gets: a white button down with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a pristine pair of black skinny jeans. He tucks the blazer his mother had laid out back into his wardrobe because it is far too warm for that.

The Town Hall isn’t far from their house, and he see’s the cars lining the road outside, some he recognises, like Niall’s bright yellow Jeep with the convertible roof that never goes up anymore because of The Roadtrip Incident of two years ago.

They stop where long pillars stretch above the open front doors, shiny wooden floors golden against the lights hanging from the ceiling, glowing off of the ornate finishing’s on the walls. It used to be a ballroom back in the day, now it’s just a renovated symbol of a bygone era; crystal chandeliers hanging from gold chains only serving as aesthetic appeal, elegant curtains draping neatly over the windows. Its grandeur is still intact, at least.

There’s even more red, white and blue décor exhibited all over the building, it sort of downgrades the beauty of the place, Louis thinks. The girls run off as soon as the car stops, off to find their friends probably, Jay follows after them, her own co-workers waving her over from the front steps.

Louis spots Niall standing by the drinks table, next to ice buckets of chilling wine. He's got a blazer over top of his basketball shirt and a bright yellow snapback sitting backwards on his head.

“Do you think everyone knows we live in America?” Louis asks when he appears at Niall’s side. “Maybe they should put up more banners.”

Niall laughs, passing Louis a cup of pretty blue liquid, waving a napkin in front of his face stained in scribbles of blue ink.

“What’s that?” Louis asks.

“Just some numbers.”

“Already? Jesus. Get it, man.”

Niall shrugs, grinning smugly to himself. “I’m one of a kind. Besides, s’ not like I want to be lonely when I lose my best friend.”

“You’re not losing me. And Liam’s still there.”

“Mm.” Niall hums noncommittally, swallowing down some of his own blue drink. “Speaking of, where is our fine friend?”

“I’ll give him a ring soon, it has been a couple of days, better make sure he hasn’t been kidnapped or anything.”

Niall snorts. “Wouldn’t be surprised if the asshole has swept him off back to New York or some shit.”

Louis laughs incredulously. “Our Liam isn’t that wild.”

People start to fill the room soon after, the shiny floor slowly being swallowed up by polished shoes and high heels. A man up on the stage speaks into the microphone but Louis can’t really hear him from where he is, not that it matters, he’s had the luxury of hearing the story of how Breaker bay was founded every year of his life. It’s not like it ever changes. He leans against the wall by the door, tucking his right foot behind his left ankle. The moonlight and streetlights shine in through the double doors, little kids make a horrific noise from some part of the room and there’s a bit of a disturbance and then a disgruntled mother is hurrying out through the crowd, her hands occupied by two glossy eyed children.

“So, enjoy the rest of your night in this wonderful town we call home, and here’s to another year for Breaker bay!”

Applause erupts through the room, and Louis half-heartedly contributes. The air is soon filled with voices, the clinking of glasses glinting off of the lights, and silver trays holding tiny portions of food. He loses Niall when the boy is dragged off by his own mother who wants to show off her music prodigy son, Louis just smiles sympathetically towards his friends’ pleading eyes. His amusement gets interrupted when his sisters pull him over to the food tables, and he spends the next half hour with them picking from a shrimp cocktail and listening to Lottie complain about a girl in her class. Nodding along with her gossip like the good brother he is.

As the night wears on, Louis finds himself at an empty table with two glasses in front of him somehow, he’s not drunk – there’s no way he’d get drunk in front of his mother, he doubts she’d mind, but the thought is just too harrowing to even consider, especially after the way she talked him up in front of all of her friends. He was just talking to Ed, he doesn’t know where he went to, but now he’s occupying himself by watching the assortment of people around him, praying none of them come over to pester him, he’s really not in the mood for that. He doesn’t know if its possible to ever be in the mood for that sort of intrusion. Scanning the crowd, he sees his old high school teacher using a lot of hand gestures as he talks to his mother, distracting her thank god, he sees his neighbors daughter curled up on one of the beige loungers next to Lottie, Niall still sitting with his mother and some of her friends, sending him glances every now and then and ––

A sound fills the room, drowning out every other thought, every other noise, and it’s coming from the grand piano in the darkened corner next to the stage, Louis doesn’t think it’s been touched in years. He looks in that direction, bothered by the loud laughter and chatter coming from the people around him, like they can’t even hear the person playing, it’s just plain rude.

Louis doesn’t remember making the conscious decision to stand up, just feels his legs moving, bringing him past the people, away from them and towards the direction of the music. The melody is so hauntingly beautiful and yet, so soft Louis can feel it in rhythm with his own heartbeat, fluttering as the crowd clears enough for him to see a boy sitting in front of the piano, arms shifting swiftly along the keys.

He sees broad shoulders snug under an ink black blazer, hair falling past his neck in waves, tucked back behind one ear. When Louis gets closer, he can see the boys fingers moving quickly, skillfully, eyes down and closed like he’s as lost in it as Louis is, brows drawn together in a focused line, a tattoo of a cross next to his knuckles.

Louis snaps back to reality, noticing how oddly he’s starring at this stranger –– it’s so unusual to see a stranger here –– and he sits at an empty nearby table instead, keeping his eyes on him, then looking away, and it goes like that for a few minutes, completely engulfed in this boys magical presence, letting the melody soak into his skin and his bones as easily as the midday sun, letting it wash over him and pull him in like the tide.

The music is cut off abruptly, jarringly so, and Louis’ head shoots up from swirling wine in a crystal glass, towards the piano where the boy has disappeared, and he catches him heading quickly for the back door.

So. Like.

He chases after him. Of course.

The chair squeaks against the shiny wooden floors when Louis stands up, following the long hair and long legs, blazer flowing backwards a little when the boy swings open the door and is hit with the soft breeze.

No one seems to notice Louis following him rather suddenly –– mainly because they wont get out of his fucking way –– and he catches the door just as its about to close after the mystery boy.

“Hey,” Louis says, the nighttime air is still warm as he hurries down the stairs, eyes locked on the figure heading across the grass towards the rows of parked cars. He tries again, louder this time. “Hey!”

He stops. And Louis stops. And his chest tightens.

The boy turns around, quirking an eyebrow a little, breeze shifting his hair wistfully. Those are some green eyes, wow. Louis immediately regrets not dressing better for this, though this boy seems like one of those annoying ‘I literally woke up like this’ people. Ugh. Louis wants to wake up with him.

Fuck. He’s still starring.

“Why’d you stop?” Louis hears himself asking, trying to recover from his momentary mind-blank.

“Huh?” The boy starts walking closer, shiny shoes reflecting the white moon.

Louis swallows. “Why’d you stop playing?”

The green eyes are still looking at him, sort of bewildered, but his features soften at the realization. “I didn’t think anyone was listening.”

Louis could snort, he really could, but he doesn’t. Instead, he raises his eyebrows, settling for over-the-top unimpressed at this attractive human being. “Right. Well, that was pretty stupid of you.”

The boys lips quirk upward. It’s alluring. “Oh? I’m terribly sorry for that then.”

Louis grins, moving in closer. “Should be. I’ve been coming to these things my entire life and you playing made it considerably less dreadful. Maybe even enjoyable if I’m feeling wild,”

The boy properly smiles now, and – oh. Dimples. He steps forward again and stops next to a tree, leaning his shoulder against it. “You’re from around here then?”

Louis nods. They’re only a few steps apart now, he can see the opening in the boys shirt, more tattoos visible against the sheer fabric, but it’s too dark the further away from the hall they get, he can’t tell if its inked onto his skin or sewn into the fabric of his shirt. “You’re not, I’m guessing?”

The boy laughs now, running a hand through his hair, glancing towards the coast for a moment, silver moonlight hitting the edges of his face and casting black shadows along his sharp jawline. “I mean. I suppose not, but like, I’ve been coming here since I was a kid – never been to one of these before though.”

Ah.

“So you live on The Shore?” Louis asks, trying to eliminate the distaste from his voice.

“Yeah. Well. My dads house is there.”

Louis presses his lips together.

The boy smiles wider. “Yes, I’m one of those rich bastards who stays in those obnoxious houses just for the summer. It’s okay, I know you’re thinking it.”

Louis acts shocked. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“It was something along those lines right?”

Louis shrugs. “Well. I was actually thinking ‘he’s one of those rich bastards who stays in those obnoxious houses just for the summer but god he can play,’ so.”

A stream of car lights washes over them as someone leaves, crosses over the boys face, Louis sees him smiling wider, and his eyes sparkle – they fucking sparkle.

“There’s a compliment hidden in there, you’re being kind to me,” he says it like he’s surprised, and Louis just smirks wider, warmth rushing to his cheeks. The boy digs his hands into his pockets, swaying a little where he stands. Ridiculously attractive. Louis can’t imagine what he would look like in the daylight.

“Never,” Louis says, the distant sounds of the ocean filling his system as quickly as this boy apparently did. He steps closer again.

The boys grin grows in delight. “Are you distracting yourself by talking to me because you don’t want to talk to people in there or...”

There’s a flare of wit in his tone, it ignites a small fire inside of Louis.

Louis lets out a breathless chuckle. “You don’t think your musical talents swept me off my feet?”

“It doesn’t happen often.”

“Lies.” Louis says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t believe that for a second. Besides, getting out of awkward and unwanted conversations is simply a bonus.”

Smirking red lips twist into a smile, leaning forward slightly as if he’s telling Louis a secret. “I think we’ve found ourselves in similar situations.”

Louis swallows. Everything is so odd and mysterious and wonderful, he can't look away.

“Are you trying to get away from an over-enthusiastic mother too?”

The boys smile falters slightly, oddly, and only for a flashing instant. Then he bites his bottom lip once, before speaking. “Searching for freedom, I mean.”

For a moment, Louis falls quiet. Thoughtful, breathless, electricity charging through him while he tries to formulate a response. “Did you find it?”

“No,” the boy says, softening. “Not yet.”

Louis pauses again, chewing on the inside of his lip thoughtfully. He knows, somehow. “So where did you come from? Besides The Shore. I mean, honestly, no one in this town plays that old piano.”

The boy chuckles, almost dismissively. “I don’t want to talk about that, I don’t want to talk about me. That’s boring. Lets do something fun.”

Louis blinks in surprise, but he can’t look away. 

“Something fun? Okay, stranger, what do you have in mind?”

Chapter Text

The guy drives a shiny red Cadillac. 

Like. A sparkling, shiny red Cadillac that appears to be in perfect condition. Like, Louis wouldn’t be surprised if someone spent a good five hours out of their day polishing it until it shimmers in the sunlight.  

“Of course this is your car.” Louis says, shaking his head as Mystery boy – as Louis has decided to call him – unlocks the doors. 

“Hey, don’t judge.” Mystery boy says, smirking.  

Louis, for the life of him, can't figure out why he's struggling to catch his breath. He slides into the soft interior, taking in the ‘new car’ smell. “I’m not, just… wow. Do I even want to know?” 

Mystery boy half-smiles. “How about this, since you’ve obviously had your fair share of people asking you about your life tonight, we try to keep the personal questions to a minimum?” 

Louis agrees, for some reason, even though a name would be really nice otherwise this Mystery boy thing will have to stick. And shit, did he actually just hop into a car with a complete stranger? Yes, apparently he did. 

Before the car starts, Louis looks to his side. “Hey, can I ask you something?”  

Mystery boy arches an eyebrow, which hints at: “depends.” 

“You’re not a serial killer are you? Because I just got out of college and I’m still too tired to deal with any of that.” 

He laughs now, well, it’s more of a giggle. Okay, so he’s a Cadillac driving, piano playing, gorgeous boy who seems terribly secretive – and he giggles. Louis can get on board with that. “I can promise you, I’m not. Though, that is exactly what a serial killer would say, so.” 

Louis shrugs. “Yeah, but at least I asked.” 

“Exactly.” Mystery boy buckles his seatbelt, gesturing for Louis to do his. “Safety first.” 

Louis buckles his own, and watches as the night rolls past them as they drive. He really shouldn’t be so easily convinced simply because this person is stunning and ridiculously musically gifted, but it’s something… everything in the air feels right, strangely enough. He closes his eyes as the night whips his hair back, the careful, judgey chatter of the Town Hall disappearing behind him. 

. . . 

It takes Louis an awkward moment to realise they’ve driven to The Shore, and also to realise it’s the closest he’s been to this part of the bay – ever, which is sort of a revelation considering he’s lived close by his entire life.  

They stop at a small township Louis didn’t know existed; there are closed café’s and closing restaurants, not many, but enough for Louis to think he really should have known about this place sooner. They’re in front of a stretch of buildings, one in particular has a small gathering of cars parked outside, dark bricks and purple lights glowing out of every opening. A neon sign sticks out above the door: The Meteor. 

Okay. 

A flood of assumptions run through Louis’ mind, though none of them necessarily make any sense.  He blocks out all of the ‘this guy is in a fucking cult’ thoughts and settles for how puzzled he actually is. 

“The Meteor,” Louis reads aloud as he gets out of the car, he had unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt somewhere along the way because his getup seemed a bit too formal for a car ride. “Why have I never heard of this place before?” 

Mystery boy wanders around to the sidewalk next to Louis, smiling ridiculously wide. “Have you ever been to The Shore before?” 

“I’ve… driven past it.” 

“Well,” he starts, as if he’s going to say something revolutionary. “There are hidden gems in amongst the glitz and glamour or however you want to see it. This is one of my favourite places, they usually have gigs for indie bands but I don’t think any are playing tonight.” 

Louis grabs a flyer at the door to remind himself to tell Niall about that very fact, folding it into squares and tucking it into his back pocket. 

When he gets inside, everything hits him all at once. 

He’s not sure what he expected, the dark brick exterior didn’t give away much. For one, it’s way more packed than Louis would have guessed. There’s an array of people that he didn’t think would be seen on The Shore –– based on Louis’ well thought-out generalisations –– they’re wearing stonewashed denim, flannel shirts, bright over-sized t-shirts cut to crop tops and tucked into high-waisted jeans, playing pool and dancing to a song on – is that a jukebox? Louis is beginning to feel like he’s stepped into an 80’s movie. 

Just like the other boy had said, there’s a stage further down the back, but it’s empty. Coloured lights flash among the room, faded and hazy through a thin veil of smoke, and Mystery boy grabs Louis’ hand and pulls him through the people, Louis shivers at the touch. It’s kind of amazing, he thinks, that this place exists twenty minutes away from his house and he’s never even heard of it. What the actual fuck. 

They stop at the back next to the jukebox (Louis is fairly certain it’s just there for aesthetic appeal, there’s no way its connected to all of those speakers.) He leans his back against the wall while Mystery boy lets him go and starts flicking through the songs. 

“You’re some kind of fugitive aren’t you?” Louis says. “That’s what all of the secrecy is about.” 

Mystery boy glances up at him, something in his eyes that Louis can’t pin. “You got me,” he smirks, then his eyes trail down like he's distracted suddenly. “I like your tattoos,”  

Louis looks down at the ink on his arms and across his chest (though, he’s pretty sure that was a diversion from the real topic at hand.) “Thanks. I like yours too.” 

That earns him a rather pleased smile, and then the song changes. 

Track: Everlong – Foo Fighters

“Come on!” Mystery boy shouts over the music, a grin stretching his mouth, grabbing Louis’ hand and swinging him out onto the floor, in amongst the people, gripping tight, and Louis joins him willingly, smiling so wide because he can’t even help it. 

And like. Louis has been to his fair share of clubs when he and Niall would take longer trips to some of the bigger cities, but The Meteor (which he’s a bit pissed at himself for not knowing about sooner) only shares a slight resemblance to those places. For one, he can’t seem to spot a sloppy drunk trying to feel up some girl, or anyone about to get into a fist fight, people breathing down his neck and trying to have a round in the bathroom –– Louis only instigated those like, three times. But there's nothing like that here. Everyone actually seems to be enjoying the others company. Dancing wildly and unabashedly, laughing and holding each other, and this beautiful, mysterious boy is holding him and it all feels a bit like a dream. 

Louis’ never let himself let go like this, probably not in his life. He never had a chance to, really. It all feels so reckless and crazy, dancing with a bunch of strangers and holding hands with a boy he doesn’t even know, his face lit up from the pink and green lights. A girl next to them is slinging her hair around as she shouts the lyrics to the song: “If everything could ever feel this real forever,” and everyone else starts singing along, including Mystery boy, so Louis does too. 

Breathe out, so I can breathe you in. 

He can’t even hear the sound of his own voice, or his own laughter. It’s all mixed in with everyone else’s, like his body heat, and the faint scent of coconut and other fruity smells, so much energy it’s fucking exhilarating. Not to mention probably, insanely crazy. Completely crazy. Niall is not going to believe him. Louis’ not even sure he believes it himself, not sure he’s even existing right now; he’s like, eighty percent certain he’s fallen asleep at the Hall on some old ladies’ shoulder. But whatever. It’s a damn good dream. 

. . . 

A few songs later, Mystery boy takes him off of the floor and over to a booth with red colored vinyl seats, Louis follows along with his hand tucked safely in the other boys, thinking about how he doesn't usually like being guided like this – also thinking about how he can't find it in him to care at all. Mystery boy disappears for a few minutes and reappears, seeming to have undone another button on his shirt, holding a basket of fries, and Louis separates some for him to douse in vinegar. He looks up and notices the other boy arching an eyebrow questioningly. 

“Is that something you like?” Mystery boy asks, genuine intrigue in his voice. 

Louis pauses. “Is it weird? S’ like, kind of my favourite.” 

“No, not weird. Interesting, I guess.” 

Louis’ never thought about that, considering it’s a pretty regular thing here. It makes him more curious as to who this guy is. But he keeps his lips pressed together. 

“And I like interesting.” Mystery boy adds, that grin that seemed so alluring before has an added presence of goofiness to it now. Louis doesn’t know how, but his chest is doing somersaults, like he’s seeing something he’s never seen before – a brand new colour, or. Or something. He’s definitely imagining that part. 

Whatever.  

Louis clears his throat. “So do you take all the random boys you meet outside of Town Halls here or am I just lucky?” he asks, smirking as he picks at his fries. 

Mystery boy laughs. “Actually, I was coming here anyway and figured it might be more fun with someone else. And it is.” 

Louis smiles. “What were you doing there in the first place?” he asks, giving his voice a faux-casual lilt to mask the fact that he’s clearly prying for information. 

A knowing smirk forms on Mystery boys’ lips, like he can definitely read Louis’ intentions; he focuses on swirling a fry in some ketchup. “I was just bored I suppose.” 

Louis doesn’t entirely believe that, but he nods anyway. “So you decided to wow a bunch of strangers with your musical talents?” 

Mystery boy raises his eyebrows, grinning. “I think you were the only one that was wowed––“ 

“I highly doubt that.” 

“–– but thank you.” His face is set in a way that says: “I’m flattered, but I won’t answer the rest of your question because this conversation is veering in a direction I’m not comfortable with,” so Louis drops that thought. 

“Hey!” A bright boy pops up next to their booth. His arms are covered in tattoos, and he’s in a black t-shirt with The Meteor printed onto it in purple letters, a name-tag tacked on that reads: Jake. 

Louis jumps at his presence, a little alarmed. “Oh, hello.” 

“You guys look like you want some fortune cookies.” Jake says, holding out a silver bowl filled with them. 

Louis stares flatly at Mystery boy across the table. “This place also gives out fortune cookies. I’m done being surprised, honestly.” 

Mystery boy giggles at Louis before returning his attention to Jake. “We would love some.” 

Jake leaves a fortune cookie in front of each of them and then strolls back into the crowd of people. 

Louis cracks his open and pulls out the slip of paper. 

“Look ahead, and look carefully,” he reads, then looks back up at Mystery boy. “What the fuck?” 

Mystery boy wiggles his eyebrows. “Hm.” 

Louis rolls his eyes and leans closer across the table. “Go on then, what does yours say?” 

Mystery boy squints at his paper. “Don’t be afraid to follow the White Rabbit.” He looks down at the words a second longer before dragging his eyes up to Louis, raising his eyebrows once then letting out what appears to be a sigh. Odd. 

“How intriguing.” Louis says.  

 “These things are always so cryptic,” Mystery boy says, folding his carefully and sliding it into his pocket. Louis does the same. “So you just got out of college?” 

Louis is almost about to bring up the whole ‘no personal talk’ rule from earlier just to be annoying, but decides against it. He doesn’t have many qualms with it anyway, so instead he says, “yup. English major.” 

“That’s cool, did you like it?” 

“Yeah, I mean. It helped me figure out what I should do with the rest of my life which is nice, I guess. And I got to room with my best friend, but he was a music student so it was always loud. Actually the worst, honestly. But sometimes I think I would go back to living with him, I mean, living with my family is fine for now until I can get my own place and figure out everything else, but the rest of forever is something I should probably start thinking about. It’s fucking terrifying though, and sometimes––“ Louis pauses, taking a breath. “I’m rambling, sorry. It’s like, a thing I do. Just ignore me, most people I know tend to tune out half-way through.” 

Mystery boy shakes his head softly. “No, don’t. I actually haven't had such a nice conversation in a long time, so ramble all you want. If you want to, that is, you don’t have to share your whole life story with me if you don’t want to.” 

Louis’ mouth stretches into a smile, as much as he tries to fight it. “I don’t even think I was making any sense at all, fuck.” 

“No you were,” Mystery boy sweeps his fringe out of his face and shifts his position a bit so that his boots knock against Louis’ Vans under the table. “Everything after, like, right now… trying to make it mean something is frightening. Not knowing, I guess. Not knowing where it goes after this.” 

“That’s about it, yeah.” Louis says, his heart beating loudly.  

“I think… I might know how you feel.” 

Louis feels dizzy, his chest clenching like it’s harder to breathe all of a sudden.  

“Sorry,” is all he can think to say. 

Mystery boy nods slowly, and repeats quieter, “sorry.” 

They don’t talk about much else after that, but its okay, because it’s not exactly quiet with the jukebox and the people and an impromptu karaoke happening in another corner of the room. Mystery boy pays the bill –– which is good, because Louis doesn’t have his wallet or his phone on him he realises –– and eventually they stumble back out into the night, silent air and the muffled sounds coming from the purple glowing building flowing and fading out behind them.  

“Sorry, I didn’t check the time.” Mystery boy says as they near the car. “I hope no one's worried about you.” 

Louis shakes his head. “I’m lucky I left when I did, once the younger kids go home those poor souls are pulled into interrogative babble that could last for hours. Niall – my friend, he got trapped with his mom last I saw, I can bet you he’ll still be there when I get back.” 

Mystery boy giggles, like a child. It should not make Louis blush. “Good thing I saved you then.” 

“Well. That’s a bit of an exaggeration.” Louis says, grinning, and he glances back behind him to The Meteor, half-expecting it not to be there anymore, as if it were just some magical phenomenon only existing for them to see, but of course it’s still there. Louis shakes his head to himself and gets in the car. 

. . . 

They stop further down from the Town Hall than he was parked earlier, but Louis decides not to question it. Mystery boy does get out and walk him to the tree they were standing by before, slowing to a stop and running a hand through his hair once, biting the corner of his bottom lip. 

Louis just hovers by his side in the silence, hearing the voices already drifting their way, he’s sure one of those louder voices is his mother good god.  

“Well,” Louis says, a little higher pitched than he was intending, slicing finely into the silence. “I should let you go, enjoy your pompous private beaches and weird clubs, and… thanks for, you know, gracing us with your talents. And stealing me away for a bit, kind of needed that.” 

Something passes Mystery boys face so quickly Louis could have just as easily imagined it. “Yeah, good, I’m– you know, I’m glad.” He looks like he’s struggling to find the words, even in the dim-light Louis can see it. He rubs the back of his neck. “Nice meeting you,” 

Louis nods, “you too,” and he grins, a weird sort of laughter escaping his lips at how ridiculous this all is. Mystery boy does the same, dimpling, a quiet sort of chuckle but still there.  

Before Louis knows what’s happening, Mystery boy is leaning in swiftly and pressing his lips to Louis’ cheek and Louis’ laughter cuts off altogether. His hand rests on Louis’ shoulder, the kiss only lasting a second but against Louis’ ear, he whispers, “thank you,” and steps back. He lifts his hand to wave, and Louis does the same, stepping back as well. 

They turn around at the same time and walk in their opposite directions. Louis can't find it in him to look back. 

. . . 

“Where were you?” Niall asks when he spots Louis walking back inside. 

Louis searches his brain, settling for shrugging nonchalantly. His chest aches a little, because he doesn’t even have a name to go off of. He decides he needs to let everything that just happened sink in a little before he breathes a word of it. “Fresh air?” He says, phrasing it like a question unintentionally as if he doubts his friend will believe him. Niall doesn’t question it as they weave through the people and out the front doors. “Finally get away from all of that ‘golden boy’ talk?” 

Niall groans heavily. “Did you not get the signal earlier? When I blink twice, it means you have to kill me.” 

“How the fuck am I supposed to know when you’re blinking twice? Besides, you shouldn’t go like that. It’s got to be something like a tragic surfing accident so we can have a sick memorial for you.” Louis says, kicking a few wood chips along the ground as they near the blue swings.  

There’s a plastic whale and a plastic seal next to them, he and Niall used to sit on them for hours after school, it’s littered in permanent marker spelling out their names countless times, and they still try to sit on them every now and again but it’s not quite the same. Louis takes the left swing, Niall to his right and slowly he drags his feet along the wood chips. 

Niall sighs melancholically, his head slightly tilted backwards. “Seems crazy that this might be the last time Breaker bay’s Town Hall will be blessed with Louis Tomlinson’s presence.” 

Louis looks to the side at his friend, framed by moonlight and the jet-black ocean. “You say that like I’m dying. Or moving to a different country.” 

Niall half-smiles, solemnly, eyes ahead. “Feels like it sometimes, like you’re going to take off down that road and never come back.” 

“Don’t. Ni, you know that’s not going to happen.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Niall says. “Just feels like it.” 

Louis sighs, letting the air settle around them. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. 

The night falls silent then, just the sound of the waves in the distance and their swings creaking slowly. Louis watches the ground move beneath him, watches his Vans dig a deeper hole into the dip below the swings. 

“Did you end up calling Liam?” Niall suddenly asks. 

Louis’ head shoots up. “Shit––“ 

The roar of a motorcycle engine interrupts them, and they both look in the direction of the noise, down the road that leads out of town. At first, it almost goes away, and Louis thinks its just someone passing, but then it suddenly speeds into clarity. 

A motorbike parks along the roadside with two people sitting on it, the driver in a leather jacket and helmet, and the passenger sliding off of the back onto the edge of the park, taking off his helmet. Liam’s face comes into view, his hair seemingly unbothered by the headgear. The driver takes off his helmet as well. 

“There’s his grand entrance.” Niall mumbles quietly. 

Zayn wraps his fingers around Liam’s shirt before he can walk away and pulls him down for a kiss, when he lets him go, Liam doesn’t appear to say goodbye, but Zayn is smirking as he hits the gas and disappears back down the street towards his house on The Shore. Liam shakes his head, turning and walking towards Louis and Niall who are watching him with raised eyebrows.  

He sits on the ground in front of them, crossing his legs, and then presses his hands to his face, muffled groans escaping his lips. 

“So,” Niall says innocently. “How’s Zayn?” 

Liam leaves one hand flat on his face and the other flips Niall off. “Fuck off.” 

“I’m feeling a strange sense of Déjà vu.” Louis says. 

Liam drops his hands. “I know. What the fuck is wrong with me? Every summer he does this. Shows up out of the blue, fucking expects that I just waited for him.” 

Niall points. “Which, you did.” 

“Well, yes. But not because– I’m not like, spending nine months out of the year waiting eagerly for him to rock up in his stupid leather jacket, on his stupid motorbike. Fuck him.” 

“Right. Fuck him.” Niall agrees. 

“Liam already did that.” 

“Hey.” Liam groans again, slouching back on his hands. “Anyway, can we please talk about something else? How was the night? Sorry I missed it.” 

“No you’re not.” Niall says, then looks at Louis. “Same as always. Right, Lou?” 

A chorus of events float to the front of Louis’ brain; pianos, lights, green eyes, fortunes, the silver glow of the moonlight. He almost wants to close his eyes so that none of it slips away. “Yeah. Same as always.” 

. . . 

“He took me to this art studio he has out in the mountains, his parents own land out there. S’ just like this old cabin; small kitchen, small bed, I watched him paint for hours and then we’d like, go for walks and shit.” Liam explains, leaning his head back against the cab of Niall’s jeep, the black ocean behind him. The last of the cars leave the Town Hall, drenching them in yellow headlights. 

“Know how long he’s staying this time?” Louis asks, blowing a puff of smoke from his lips, his knees knocking with Liam’s as he tries to readjust his position. 

Liam shakes his head. “He never really knows either, just makes it up as he goes along apparently. Like, that’s bullshit.” 

“You should talk to him.” Niall says, jumping over to the back of the Jeep with them, his blazer abandoned on the passenger seat. “You should really talk to him.” 

“And say what? It’s not like I want him to stay.” Liam says, frowning like a stubborn child. 

Louis and Niall both simultaneously quirk an eyebrow at him.  

“I don’t! I mean – what would he even do here? He doesn’t like the ocean, he doesn’t like the warm weather, he doesn’t like surfing –“ 

“What does he like?” Niall asks. 

Liam pauses, presses his eyes closed and sighs. “Me.” 

“Right. So there you go.” 

Liam frowns further. “Zayn fucking Malik. Why? Why me?” 

Louis laughs. “Why did you land the GQ-ready motorcycle rider? Oh Liam, you have it so hard.” 

Liam frowns. “Hey. Glamorise it all you want but he thinks it’s fine if we just sit around talking about the universe and getting each other off – when we never talk about anything that actually matters. Then by the end of summer, he’s gone again. It’s shit, Lou.” 

“So stop putting up with it.” 

Liam laughs, in a self-pitying sort of way. “Oh, if only it were that easy.” 

“Pull yourself together man, you’ll be fine.” Louis says, squeezing Liam’s knee reassuringly. He downright refuses to be put through another ‘Zayn Malik Freak Out’.  

Liam rolls his eyes dismissively and leans his head back. They sort of just sit there and breathe, their conversations always end this way, easy silences, watching the night blanket them into darkness; a sort of calm, peaceful darkness. It takes Niall to accidentally dip his head against Louis’ shoulder, half-asleep, for Liam to hop into the drivers seat and take them all home. 

Louis lets the warm wind whip his hair back as they drive, and along the coastline, along the sleeping town, he catches a glimpse of the bigger houses, the coloured lights and shiny cars. And somewhere down there, there’s a boy who maybe doesn’t want to be found.  

Louis doesn’t understand why he feels this way, it's not even like anything particularly monumental happened, he doesn’t think. But, for the sake of his sanity, he decides then and there that he has to see him again. Even just to prove that it wasn’t all a dream.