Chapter Text
Seeking a cast of hot young singles who will be looking for a summer of love and romance in the seventh season of "Love Island UK”.
"To survive in the villa the Islanders must be coupled up with another Islander, whether it be for love, friendship or money, as the overall winning couple receives a cash prize.
On the first day, the Islanders couple up for the first time based on first impressions, but over the duration of the series they are forced to "re-couple" where they can choose to remain in their current couple or swap and change. We are looking for a diverse group of likeable people with big personalities. Singles aged 18-29.”
---
As someone who drunkenly belted out the entire Moana soundtrack on more than one occasion, Louis knew that Liam had a tendency to be a drama queen sometimes. So in all honesty, Louis wasn’t too surprised to find a plethora of missed notifications at the end of his work day.
But twenty text messages and three missed calls was a lot, even for Liam. Whatever it was, it must have been bad. Even though Liam’s definition of bad was usually the equivalent of something as banal as spilling his coffee.
Lou. omggg Lou pls answer ur phonee.
Please something happened at work.
:(((((
Fuck
“You heading out already?” asked Lisa, drawing Louis’ attention away from his confused concern for his best friend. Well, he could get back to Liam later. Hopefully he wasn’t in the hospital. If that had been the case, Louis was sure that the texts would’ve been written in capital letters.
Louis nodded, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Yeah, I guess that’s it for me,” he replied, giving his desk a final onceover.
He would miss this desk — it represented the past two years of his life, after all. Even though some didn’t enjoy the frenzied paralegal lifestyle, Louis had loved all of it, from staying up late to prepare for major court cases, to drinking the revolting sludge-like coffee that came from the communal kitchen. It was almost sad to think that he wouldn’t have the chance to drink it again until he finished his postgraduate law degree.
Louis was grateful that Cowell LLP had been willing to sponsor his legal practice course in Manchester, even though this meant having to find a replacement. He couldn’t help but feel rather smug when the firm realized that they would need to hire not one, but two paralegals to replace him.
After having worked at the firm for two years, it felt kind of strange for Louis to be abandoning the life that he had built to begin a new one. But becoming a solicitor had been his dream from the start. He needed to move on. Working as a paralegal had afforded him enough money to rent out a small flat in London, but ultimately, if things worked out, he hoped to work somewhere closer to home. Closer to his mum, and to the girls.
“Well,” Lisa said, giving him a warm smile, “good luck with everything! Heading back to school sounds fun.”
“If fun means countless nights of staying up, then I’m sure I’ll have a blast,” Louis told her, drawing a laugh out of his colleague, or more accurately, soon to be ex-colleague.
Several others in the office stopped by for their own farewells — some who were quite familiar to Louis, and others he had only spoken to once or twice. He appreciated the gesture nonetheless. It was nice to be missed, but the certainty of knowing he would return meant that Louis didn’t feel too sentimental about his departure.
He’d been given the option to stay with the firm all the way until September, of course. And although it had been tempting for a moment, Louis had ultimately decided to turn down the offer. Even though paralegal life was a lifestyle he enjoyed, Louis figured that taking a break before his studies was probably the right decision, especially if he had to move from London to Manchester within the span of a few weeks. He was tired. He needed some time to collect himself, to see his family again, and to prepare for the onslaught of assignments, readings and exams he would be getting once he started the academic year.
The sun had begun to set by the time Louis finally made it out of the office, with a box containing the last of his belongings and the leftovers of his farewell cake. He was seated on the tube before he finally remembered to give Liam a call. Hopefully his best friend wasn’t dead in a lake somewhere. That would be just a little bit too dramatic for Liam.
“Louis,” came a distressed groan once the call connected, accompanied by a slight rustling in the background. Liam was probably leaving work, too. “Today was bad. Today was bad."
Louis adjusted his things on his lap, making sure the cardboard box wasn’t poking the other passengers next to him. Rush hour in London called for overcrowded spaces and not-so-nice glares at anyone who dared to take up more space than was absolutely necessary. He was lucky to even have secured a spot.
“With a job like yours, Payno, I don’t know how every day could not be bad,” Louis pointed out dryly. Liam’s job as a talent scout was a recurring joke that Louis often pestered him about, despite the fact that Liam actually liked what he did. How, Louis didn’t know, especially with the type of people Liam was constantly dealing with.
“I embarrassed myself today,” Liam continued, ignoring Louis’ comment. Liam seemed to be in such distress that Louis took mercy on him and didn’t counter with a ‘but aren’t you already an embarrassment on your own’ type of joke.
“What happened?” Louis asked instead, allowing sympathy to win this time. It sounded like Liam needed it.
“I can’t — I can’t even talk about it,” Liam mumbled, sounding as if he was already trying to suppress the memory. “We’ve got to go out. I need to forget about everything.”
A few drinks didn’t sound like a bad idea. Simultaneously consoling his best friend and celebrating the last day of his job? It would be hitting two birds with one stone, really. Besides, Louis and Liam really hadn’t gone out in a while.
Checking his watch, Louis quickly estimated his location. “You feeling up for The Sweet Lilac tonight? I can be there in an hour.”
“The Sweet Lilac?” Despite his seemingly miserable situation, Liam’s tone was amused. “You’re really bringing it back to our roots, aren’t you? Do you think the dusty jukebox will still be there?”
Ah, the dusty jukebox. A relic of their university years.
“Only one way to find out,” Louis said, wondering if he could play Elvis Presley’s “Hound Dog” twenty times before they’d kick him out again. Surely the bartenders would have changed since then, right? “I’ll drop off my stuff at my flat. Meet you there?”
Liam made a noise of confirmation before hanging up, leaving Louis free to lean back into his seat. He could use a night out. When was the last time he had gone out, anyway? Maybe a few months ago, for one of his uni mate’s birthdays, but even that had been considered such a rare occasion that Louis couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out when he’d been out past midnight before that. With Louis’ job being as demanding as it was, it was near impossible to go out as frequently as he had back in uni, when he’d been able to occasionally ignore his homework and party until sunrise.
It felt strange, the concept of no longer being tied down to the office. From now on it was just him, his box full of stuff, and his last few months of freedom before uni began in the autumn. So, yeah. A night out was a good choice, a good way to begin the summer.
A summer which, despite his intention to kick back and relax, Louis had admittedly not planned yet. He wondered if he was supposed to have made any sort of arrangements already. That was what people did, right? Normal people, that was. The ones who didn’t work themselves to death on the regular. Last season had been too busy for Louis to even think about a trip, much less organize one. If anything, he was normally content to take a quick trip back to visit his family in Doncaster and fill the rest of his time with binge-watching whatever was popular on TV.
Now that he finally had time to breathe, maybe he would consider travelling beyond his hometown. He did have a handful of months, after all. A trip sounded nice. A holiday. Maybe somewhere tropical.
But tonight, drinks and Liam were a priority. Let the freedom begin.
---
Several hours and way too many shots later, both Louis and Liam were certifiably drunk. Distantly, Louis knew that he would regret this in the morning. He would have a hangover, most likely. But right now, he was having too much of a good time making fun of Liam.
“It was seriously so bad,” Liam moaned over his second beer. “I don’t think I can ever look him in the eye again. Ever.”
Right. They were still talking about Liam’s crush, the new assistant producer at work. A few weeks ago, Liam had come over to Louis’ and spent the majority of an hour (or four) rambling about how his new co-worker had the most beautiful cheekbones, the longest lashes, et cetera, et cetera. Louis would have offed himself right then and there if Liam hadn’t decided to thoughtfully buy him dinner as well.
“S’what actually happened?” Louis slurred, gesturing towards the bartender for another drink. Liam’s face turned more red than it already was. Ha. Yes, Liam was his best friend, but it was way too fun, making Liam’s face turn different shades of crimson every few minutes. All it took was for Louis to mention whatever embarrassing event had happened to Liam earlier that day. The event which Liam had not yet fully explained, despite his constant complaining.
“I told you, I don’t wanna talk about it,” Liam muttered, pressing his cheek against his glass in an attempt to cool down. The bar was warm, way too warm, humid and filled with happy drunk people who were having a great time. Louis had missed this.
The bartender arrived with a new gin and tonic, which Louis gratefully accepted. “At least he’ll be out of the country soon, ‘cause he’s filming and all that. Can we talk about something else, please? Like how shitty work is in general.”
“How is talking about work different from talking about a guy from work?” Louis interjected, but Liam continued on.
“We can’t find any good contestants this year, Louis. None. Everyone is just as boring as last year, except they’re somehow even less attractive.”
Louis couldn’t help but snort. Ah, the difficulties of finding young and hot wannabe celebrities.
As a scout for ITV, Liam’s main job consisted of finding overdramatic and loud fame-seekers who would be a good fit for whatever reality show was going to air next, and every spring, Louis had the pleasure of listening to Liam complain about finding Love Island contestants. Louis himself had never watched a full episode of the show, but he knew just enough to deem it a trashy British crossover of The Bachelor and Big Brother. Which sounded like a flaming mess, in his opinion, but he knew that his sisters (and Liam) loved it. And while Louis liked shitty reality TV shows as much as the next 40-year old divorcee, he really didn’t think he needed to get obsessed with yet another one — The X Factor and Survivor were more than enough for him, thank you very much.
“Why don’t you look them up on Instagram or something?” he suggested triumphantly. “Social media influencers, there.” Maybe he could get Lottie and Fizzy to help Liam find some people. Louis was sure that his sisters would be more than happy to surf the internet for hours in the name of ‘research’.
Liam gave him an unimpressed look and opened his mouth to reply with some sort of retort, when his face suddenly morphed into a look of pure glee.
Oh, God. Louis didn’t like that look. That look was associated with Bad Ideas. Specifically, bad ideas that were born out of drunken nights trying to forget embarrassing moments, prior relationships, or boys with dimples and green eyes. It never boded well for either of them. That look, in particular, had led to their first bar fight together, a couple years ago.
Liam beat him to the punch before Louis could shoot down whatever crazy idea he had. “Lou. Lou. Hear me out,” Liam said excitedly. Whatever Liam had in his brain was making him positively glow, and was there a manic glint in his eye somewhere? Oh god, this was even worse than what Louis had anticipated.
“You should apply.”
There was a silence before Louis burst out laughing. And once he started, he couldn’t stop.
Liam furrowed his brows, but couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching up into a smile anyway. “No, no, seriously, I mean it. Lou. Everyone is so boring, and no one is really unique. Fuck, some of the contestants don’t even have a real job. Louis, you could make it, I swear,” Liam argued, eyes wide. “You’re funnier than everyone there, and you would be someone special, you would —”
“I’m gay, Li,” Louis replied, trying to come off as deadpan as possible. He wasn’t sure it worked. Every time he imagined himself dancing to the intro of Love Island in nothing but a pair of swim trunks, he started laughing again. And it was even funnier when he considered the fact that Love Island was based on the idea of boys and girls finding true love on a Spanish island while trapped in a villa. It didn’t even matter that Louis wasn’t straight. How anyone could find the love of their lives on a show like that was beyond him.
Liam shrugged, not fazed. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure lot of the applicants are gay anyway,” he replied, smirking. Louis thought about the hairless, tanned men with carefully manicured brows. As the show’s literal talent scout, Liam had a point.
“It could be fun just to apply.” Liam wiggled his brows mischievously, and oh God, Liam was dangerously set on this idea, clearly. “Plus, Lou,” his friend pleaded, “You’ve been single for a long time. It’s been, what, how many years? Maybe you’ll meet a nice guy on the show, there’s no rules against coupling up with other guys in the villa.”
At Liam’s words, Louis felt his breath catch involuntarily. Liam was too drunk to realize what he was saying, too drunk to stop the words from coming out in the first place. It was a topic that Liam tiptoed around, often. At some point in the past few years, Liam had given up trying to talk to Louis about his previous relationship.
And Louis didn’t have the sober willpower to keep the images from flooding back into his mind — curly brown hair, dimples carved into his cheeks, a tattoo hidden on the inside of a bicep, bleary green eyes in the morning. As if the memories were fresh as day, rather than from two years ago.
Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this now, especially after all this time. Alcohol was a terrible enabler. A true foe.
“We could make it really outrageous,” he heard Liam continue, not noticing that Louis had just spaced out for what felt like an eternity.
“Outrageous,” Louis echoed, in an attempt to bring himself back to reality. He allowed the alcohol to steer his focus back to Liam’s face, watching as his friend nodded solemnly.
“Outrageous,” Liam repeated in the same manner. “You could wear… like a really dumb hat.”
“A really dumb hat,” Louis laughed, shaking his head. Most applicants wouldn’t have dared to wear a really dumb hat, would they? “I could wear a party hat.”
“A party hat with one of those piñatas on it. We could get one from the pound shop next door!” Liam yelled, spreading his arms enthusiastically, and well, they were really considering this, weren’t they? Were they already at the stage where they were planning this whole scheme? A scheme that Louis had yet to agree to. Or had he somehow already agreed to it? Louis’ head was spinning a little bit. Maybe a lot.
Liam’s words swam in Louis’ mind, pulsing among the noise of the crowded bar. His eyes were gleaming with an air of anticipation that Louis hadn’t seen in a while — not before work had pinned Louis down and fun wasn’t as prominent on his list of priorities. It’s not like Louis wasn’t a fun person at all. He could do fun. It was just that he hadn’t had much time for fun in the past few years.
But Louis could be fun. He could be fun right now. It was the last day of his successful job, the first day of his summer — or was May still considered spring? Whatever. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted, now. He was a free man. Also, very drunk.
“It’s only a few pictures, Lou,” Liam added. “I’ll do the rest of the work.”
Which was why Louis couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Fine. We will apply for fun. But only if you buy the next four rounds,” Louis decided, pointing at his empty glass. “And I want a mojito.”
Liam grinned, drunk on tequila, the Embarrassing Incident forgotten. “Deal. Now give me your phone. I need to find good photos of you. And I need your Instagram.”
Louis handed him his phone, typed in the password, and went off to look for the Dusty Jukebox. He was going to play Hound Dog until Liam dragged him home.
---
Louis woke up feeling like he had been trampled by a thousand dogs. No, a thousand and one corgis. His head hurt, his muscles were sore, and his throat was as dry as the Sahara desert. He vaguely remembered wanting to get as drunk as he used to back when he was still a freshman in uni, and he supposed that now he was paying the price — the only difference was that back then, the price hadn’t been a hangover that felt like death.
Reluctantly, Louis dragged himself out of bed and fished his phone out of his trousers. It was just past noon, and the sun was bright and shining through the window of his bedroom. Louis hadn’t woken up this late since the day he finished his undergraduate degree.
After taking a quick piss, he stumbled into the kitchen, quickly swallowing two paracetamols before heading into the shower. Hopefully Liam felt better than he did; even though it was Saturday, he knew Liam would already be back at the ITV headquarters, groaning about how difficult it was to find ‘good’ contestants. Just a week ago, Louis would’ve also been back at work. Waking up late and having nothing to do felt odd.
Taking advantage of his new lack of commitments and the excuse of a headache, Louis put on the latest season of Survivor and promptly zoned out for several hours.
As the credits rolled for the finale, Louis picked up his phone, automatically going to check for any work emails — it was a habit that he had picked up shortly after he began working as a paralegal, much to Louis’ chagrin. Now that he was no longer working, he’d have to stop doing that. Usually he just got spam emails, anyway.
But what he saw when he finally checked his notifications made everything from last night come back into sharp focus. He read the subject line of the email three times — Congratulations! ITV invites you to participate in an interview for the 7th season of Love Island (UK) — before immediately dialling Liam.
Liam picked up after two rings.
“Hello?” his friend croaked, and Louis took a moment to note with grim satisfaction that at the very least, the alcohol was punishing Liam just as much as it had punished Louis. Sometimes it took a night out like the one they’d just had to remind them that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink so much, after all. The email sitting in his inbox certainly said so.
“Li. Payno. What the fuck,” Louis hissed, keeping the phone to his ear as he opened his email on his laptop. The message was still there, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst all his football newsletter subscriptions. “You signed me up for Love Island last night. They want me to go in for an interview.”
For a second, Liam said nothing. Then he started laughing, or at least doing something that sounded like laughing. Liam could also have been dying, or dry-heaving, for all Louis knew. Yeah, it would probably take a few more days for Liam’s voice to fully recover.
“Oh, shit,” Liam said in disbelief, words caught in between a croak and a snicker. Despite how ridiculous the whole situation was, Louis couldn’t help but let out a bewildered chuckle of his own. “I totally forgot we sent that in! I didn’t realize they’d respond so fast though, sometimes they don’t even look through the profiles of the candidates I give them.”
Louis sighed, dropping his head against his desk. He was way too hungover for this.
“You do realize that I’m going to have to decline, right? There’s no way I’m going on that show.” Louis shook his head incredulously, hovering his laptop cursor over the Decline button in the email.
He didn’t even remember what the application had looked like, and instead had only a brief, hazy flashback of wearing a piñata party hat while Liam excitedly completed some form that seemed to comprise mostly of Louis’ pictures from instagram. Everything else besides that had gone by in a blur. Though, now that he thought of it... Louis did have a vague recollection of Liam typing away furiously on a laptop in his living room after they’d returned from The Sweet Lilac. Louis had promptly collapsed into bed, leaving Liam to submit an application that must have been less than the mess he would have expected from their drunk state.
Over the phone, Louis could hear Liam hesitate.
“Or… well, you could go to the interview,” Liam offered after a few moments of deliberation. “Here’s the thing — I know we were drunk last night, but I actually meant it when I said you’d be a great islander. Do you know how hard it is to get on that show?”
“I don’t,” Louis admitted, and wondered if he was supposed to care. Before he could continue, though, Liam was already talking again.
“Most people don’t even get an interview,” Liam said, sounding a lot more sober than he had five minutes ago. “This is a huge deal, Louis. They saw something they liked about you in that shit video, whatever it was.” Louis refrained from telling Liam that he had actually had lots of practice acting sober when he was anything but. Liam knew that about him already.
Was Liam trying to convince him? Louis thought his best friend, of all people, would know better, would know that Louis was not reality TV show material.
“So basically,” Louis said, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, “you’re telling me that I should accept.”
He heard a sigh of consideration on the other line. “Yeah,” Liam said. “It’s a great opportunity. You don’t have anything to do over the summer anyway, do you?”
“I do,” Louis said. It wasn’t a lie.
“You’re going home to Doncaster for a few weeks and then you’re watching TV for the rest of the summer,” Liam supplied. “You told me last night.”
Damn it. Without hesitation, Liam continued to ramble on like he was delivering a sales pitch. ITV certainly didn’t hire him for nothing, Louis thought. He’s even got his sales voice on. “So if you actually get offered a spot on the show — and that’s a big if — you could just treat it as, like, a free vacation or something.”
Louis’ initial reaction was to laugh. Because, honestly. “Li — I’m gay,” Louis said incredulously, echoing what he vaguely recalled saying last night. “Love Island is a show for guys to meet girls, which, in case you hadn’t realised, I’m not interested in.”
“And I told you last night that a lot of contestants are gay,” Liam responded just as quickly, sounding a little annoyed. Apparently, drunk Louis and Liam hadn’t been the best decision makers, but they had surprisingly good memories. “Not that it matters, but in season two we actually had one lesbian couple. And that’s not even the point, Lou, you can also think about it this way — almost everyone that goes on the show comes out of it making good money in their first year. Do you really think everyone on the show is that romantic? You could use it to pay for your studies and give the rest to your sisters for their university funds, something like that. I just feel like it’s a lost opportunity when so many of the people I scout don’t even get an interview,” Liam finished, sounding a bit out of breath.
Fuck. Sometimes, Louis forgot that there was a reason why Liam was a scout for a living. Liam, when he wanted to be, was really damn good at being that scout.
Louis closed his eyes. As the oldest of five, caring for his family had become a priority to Louis. It was hard to resist doing something when ultimately it would help his sisters — all four of them. Louis had plenty of money saved up from his job as a paralegal, but it was always nice to have some more funds in case something happened at home, and his family needed some help out of a tight spot. Or to maybe help pay for uni if his youngest sisters decided they wanted to do that.
“I hate you,” Louis announced. On the other end of the line, Liam laughed, sounding just a little bit smug.
“Look, it’s up to you. But it’s just one interview,” Liam began, sounding as if he was ready to lay out all the reasons for why this interview would be a good idea. Louis promptly hung up on him. His first mistake was listening to Liam rationalize everything in the first place.
All in all, Louis had no idea why Liam would think he’d even enjoy being on Love Island. To spend his summer on a reality TV show, thrust into a villa with strangers to find true love? He sank into the couch with an exhale. It was like Liam didn’t even know Louis at all.
But the thing was, as Louis’ best friend, he did know Louis. Liam had known Louis well enough for the past seven years to know that Louis had worked his arse off, not only for himself, but so that he could support his family, too. Liam knew him well enough to be concerned for Louis whenever Louis worked overtime without taking a break, always chastising him with another one of those “you need to have more fun in your life, Tommo” talks.
And Louis, in turn, knew Liam well enough to understand that if Liam really thought Louis could make it onto this reality TV show, with his dignity intact, then he was probably right.
He stared straight ahead, meeting his own reflection in the black TV screen. A disgruntled, tired man looked back at him. In the blurry darkness of the screen, the man in the TV looked like the life had gone from his eyes.
He was still in his twenties, damn it. Had he always looked like this? Slumped in a chair, jaded at twenty-seven? There had been a time when Louis had had things to look forward to, would have had a packed summer instead of one lousy trip back home. A time when he’d have his calendar booked with events, friends who wanted to see him, people who filled his evenings with laughter.
Or one person, in particular.
Louis ran his hand over his face, watching the man on the dark, faded screen do the same.
It was just one interview. One. An interview that might not even lead anywhere.
Louis skimmed over the email one more time. Then, without looking back, he pressed Accept.
Shutting the laptop, he hauled himself up from the couch. Louis reminded himself that the next time Liam slept over at his, he would definitely draw a dick on his forehead. Liam deserved it.