if you're someone other than kt, pretend this post does not exist

title: you've got your own style, your own style
wordcount: 593
fandom: one direction
disclaimer: I own nothing, and have actually seen no interviews: this is a tertiary source.
a/n: a product of my procrastination and a conversation on twitter between

faithgrowsold and

oddishly. let's hope this doesn't make me fail my final tomorrow. apologies for the lack of ending, I figured I shouldn't spend study time waffling. in retrospect, I probably should have added in a wild chad or something.
ETA: now with fake ending for oddishly's bad day

Wind ruffled through the hair of the most beautiful boy in the world as he looked off into the distance. A bipedal moose towered over him at the right. The moose was playing it strong and slient, because once he opened his mouth the grating American tones ruined the atmosphere. The boy looked over, at you, into you, smile like a secret.

“Follow your nose, wherever it goes. To the top of the trees, wherever they grow. Fruit loops.”

“Cut! Cut! Who turned on a fan for that last take?" The producer cast an accusing glare at the room at large. "All of you, take five.” He wiped his hand across his face and grumbled on his way out the door. The young technician that had been making eyes at Harry for the past hour sullenly walked to the outlet and unplugged the fan.

Harry pouted and threw himself onto a nearby sofa. This was the tenth time they had to cut. Niall was out sick and asked Harry to sub for him. His job looked so easy, what was Harry doing wrong? Niall couldn’t even act – he only got into this business because his school friend Liam (who Harry had never heard of, despite them both working in TV – he soon found out why) mentioned that people at work were frantic because the chap that did all their food commercials had had a sudden spiritual awakening and had flown off to South America, and Niall ended up with his dream job: getting paid to eat.

He heard laughter from behind him. Louis.

“Niall asked you to fill in, then?”

“Oh, bugger off.” Once Niall had started at the studio, he had started bringing Liam and Louis to the pub on Fridays when they all got off work. Harry usually doesn’t like people when he meets them, but Louis had said “Ah, the famous Harold.” And then winked at Harry before leaning over to twist Niall’s nipple, giving Harry a chance to snatch the crisps he’d been eyeing off Niall’s plate. When Harry saw that Liam had got Zayn to speak an entire paragraph within the first ten minutes, he resigned himself to having significantly louder Fridays.

Liam and Louis didn’t actually work in commercials, so there was no real reason for them to meet at work at all, but Louis wandered around between filming breaks of Lilo’s Science Adventures. There were a lot of them, because, try as Liam might, Louis always managed to make a great mess of the set with the experiments and egged the young guest star of the week to join in and enable him. Quite a lot of the mess usually ended up on Liam, and Liam would try his hardest to look disapproving. Harry couldn’t decide if their palpable fondness for one another was adorable or disgusting.

One day, they were going to realize how stupidly besotted they were and Harry would facepalm from the sidelines. What could he expect though, they were both friends with Niall, who wasn’t particularly perceptive. What did that say about him, he wondered.

“It doesn’t look like cereal is what you’re selling, mate.” A bubble of laughter escaped and Louis had to pause for a moment before continuing. “You should stick to your line of work across town. The only person worse for this would be Zayn.”

Harry tried to imagine Zayn in a children’s commercial and winced. Zayn was strictly on the manly watches and perfumes track. Lots of pretending to ride motorcycles across greenscreened deserts and looking mysterious.

***

The next pub Friday they stayed in instead, put makeup on and had the sex. It was hot. But also cold, because this was set in England.