Chapter Text
“… So, why is this conspiracy so famous?” asked the interviewer all of a sudden.
Louis had a good run, he reasoned after taking a deep breath. He’d been on lots of interviews this past few months, he was in one a few hours before, and they had all been unexpectedly tame. Finally , they got it right, he thought. The interviewers were nice and fast, knowing when to keep talking and when to change the topic. It seemed as if the questions were targeted towards him and his music, not the tabloids or his personal life or the success he’s had in the past—just Louis and the path he is carving for himself.
So when the interviewer leaned forward with a sharp look in her eyes and a knowing smirk like she knew what she was doing; Louis’ lips twitched.
“Many fans believe in the theory of you dating…” she had started and then Louis heard the name fall out of her lips in slow motion, “… Harry Styles .”
He had tried his hardest not to roll his eyes and failed, he hoped the camera wouldn’t catch it. But his body’s movement was enough to show his obvious discomfort, his skin chilling and his jaw tightening as he forced himself to answer the dreaded question.
Yes , he knows what the fans believe. No , he doesn’t know why it’s so famous. He had lived through it when he was in One Direction, strange theories and overdrawn rumours that made each interaction with Harry weirder every time they saw each other. He’d go to bed with his phone flashing a new headline about how his eyes glowed diamonds every time they landed on Harry and then wake up and obligate himself to stand beside Harry as they sang sappy love songs as if he didn’t feel the prickle in his skin. The whole conspiracy made them appear to be more intelligent that they were, pre-calculating every move and lyric as if it was all part of some cryptic message about their supposed undying love. At first, it was funny, he would shove Harry on the shoulder and say ‘ as if ’ shaking his head. Fast-forward a few years, and it started to become odd, every interaction and word they’d say to each other would end up plastered on the fan pages of these self-proclaimed Larries as some sort of proof that they were dating. He didn’t hate it, not really, he just didn’t understand it.
Then Zayn left the band, and soon their separation followed. And finally, he thought, finally those rumours would be put to rest. Where would these people find any proof if they’re not together 24/7? He let it all fall into place on itself, he deleted his social media apps and muted his and Harry’s names on his Google homepage. He simply focused on his solo career and avoided any sort of public interaction with Harry at all costs. Not because it was an actual horrible thing to speculate, but rather because it seemed like it started affecting their relationship.
They used to be really close in the band, closer than anyone else at first. So much so, they used to share a flat, share everything, really. But as time kept moving and the boys kept drifting apart into their own lives, Harry started drifting farther from Louis. The texts started becoming less and less until their chat was completely deserted, and one day, Harry simply stopped following him on all his social media. He still followed the rest of the boys at the time, all except Louis. It was like something had flipped a switch when they posted the dreaded announcement of their hiatus, and Harry had suddenly realised he didn’t want Louis to be part of his life any more.
Harry would get skittish and awkward when they were near each other. He would scatter to the other side of the room if they were standing close, and kindly reject every party invitation if it was at Louis’ house.
The situation was quick and clean, ripping off a band-aid and throwing it in the trash. Louis had spent endless nights trying to piece bits and pieces together to understand what had happened, if it had been his fault and how he could fix it, if there was anything to be saved. The only thing that seemed to make any sense was that stupid fucking conspiracy.
Of course, Harry would be uncomfortable around Louis if the world believed they were a thing. He imagined what Harry’s girlfriends felt when people would berate them over something that was never even spoken about. Something that simply happened overtime, and they did their best to ignore. He sure as hell knew how Eleanor felt about it, she’d start fights and jealousy fits that only hurt their relationship until the very end of it. At the time, it had just been hurtful to think Harry’s flings meant more to him than his friendship with Louis.
So when years had passed since he’d been spotted with Harry and his relationship was hanging by the thinnest threads, and he was still being subjected to these types of questions—he couldn’t help but feel a little irritated.
The rant he went on he’d thought of before but had never said out loud, for some reason. He settled for a simple conclusion, “There's nothing I can say about it to stop people from making up what they wanna make up. So be it.” Not too rude and not too sweet, the perfect balance for people to shut up and for him to still have a chance at rekindling what used to be a great friendship, although he truly doubted it would cause any difference.
After he finished his answer, he smiled politely at the interviewer and then hugged her goodbye. His smile faded away as soon as he started walking out of the place, he didn’t want the question to ruin his whole day, but there was just something about it that pissed him off. But he had a meeting soon after, so he swallowed his annoyance and continued with his busy week as if nothing had happened.