Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Saturday 3

When Louis found out, he felt awful. He felt guilt drip from his heart and pool in the bottom of his stomach. His brain felt as if it was melting into regret, and the corners of his eyes burned with fatal embarrassment. A thick lump gathered in his throat, not of sadness, but of sympathy. The kind of lump you'd get when you watch a poverty based film, full of pity and urges to help those less fortunate.He didn't even mean to hear. If he was honest, after hearing it he wished he never had. The saying 'curiosity killed the cat' never felt more relevant. Because in that moment, he knew something in his heart had changed; whether he sought after it or not, something had. Maybe just a speck of that singular emotion wasn't enough to affect his state of mind at the present time, but it was enough to trigger something.Sympathy.That's what it was. Slosh in a bit of regret and pity and you've hit the nail on the head. It was more the past words that flew out of his mouth without consideration that bugged him the most as he departed the building which was like his second home. He'd never needed to restrain and ponder upon his words beforehand, nor had he felt he wanted to retrieve past sentences, so why did the fact he muttered words of offence to that curly haired boy get to him so much?He'd been standing in the café queue to buy himself a water bottle before he returned back to his dance class when he heard it. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but if someone is right in front of you talking seriously, you can't help but listen into the conversation a little. If you want to call Louis nosy, then go ahead, but nobody can claim they aren't interested in petty information from total strangers when they're waiting patiently in a long queue.The woman looked very young for her presumable middle-aged status. She was evidently the lead charity worker, by the badge clipped onto her flouncy clothing. Her 'chatting partner' was of a younger age, but not as youthful to be a student or anything of the similar. He didn't know how they got onto the conversation he overheard, but he listened in nonetheless."My boy, Harry, he likes to play the piano too. Gorgeous lad; big curly hair and bright green eyes? I've dragged him along here the past few weeks to play in one of the rooms, the one with the big black grand piano?" she said.That was when Louis' ears pricked up. His mind made fast connections and paired the boy in discussion to be the one from last Saturday who reacted shockingly to Louis' presence. It was most definitely him as the only room in the building that had such a grand piano was Louis' room. Louis resisted a scoff at the fact she was talking so brightly about her son when he was so rude to Louis it was indescribable."He seems overjoyed by the piano there; well, as overjoyed as he can express," she continued. "I wish he'd show some more enthusiasm in things, but I still know that he loved playing on that certain one. Motherly instinct I guess. But still, it was hard to tell at first until he returned to his rickety piano at home."Louis almost tuned out of the conversation, not wanting to hear a mother rabbit on about her money troubles, but the line to the counter seemed to be only getting slower so he returned his attention to the conversation before him in a bid to entertain his bored mind."Is he just withdrawn? My brother used to be like that when he was a teenager. But it wasn't serious, just growing up really," the other woman spoke."No, Jill, sometimes I wish it was just growing up though," the woman mused. "He's got a condition that has the side effect of difficulty to express himself, even to family members. So it isn't really his fault he always has such a blank expression.""Oh Anne, that's terrible. If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong with him?"Louis was too intrigued to turn away from the conversation. He wanted answers for the reasoning Anne just supplied about Harry's ignorance.After, he wished he wasn't so intrigued."He's got a form of mutism. It's called progressive mutism. Basically, he just can't speak. Not to anyone. He's lived with it all of his life, he knows nothing different. We went through therapy to try and help him speak but he gave up when he was younger. It's gone so far that now it's impossible. I don't think he sees the point in it trying to change anymore. But he's still my baby boy, y'know, so I'll always be proud of him, even if he has just given up; he's perfect the way he is."Louis' attention drifted from the gasp of shock from Jill and the following words from Anne and situated itself on his past words and small experiences with the boy. He could feel his body sagging with guilt. The poor lad didn't have a choice on whether he could talk or not, and Louis had out rightly snubbed his lack of speech to his face in nothing less than an aggressive manner.

As Louis silently exited the long queue, his want for a drink seemingly lost and his eagerness to return to his class dissipating rapidly into his sombre aura, he slumped out of the building with thoughts of negative emotions rushing around in his head as if his emotional standing was the prey of this unknown boy's story, biting and chomping at his integrity.When he collapsed onto his sofa, his thoughts turned to imagining the situation on a personal level. What if he were Harry, how would he feel if some prancing boy saddled up to him and insulted his general being? How would he have coped with never being able to peep a word throughout his whole life? Would he have been able to be so solitary for years on end, not even bothering with his family?And then Louis thought: why do I even care?"He's interesting," his conscience muttered."He's no more interesting than Harley from the recording booth or Helena in scriptwriting," Louis argued back."He's fit.""But he looks like sixteen or something, he's too young for me in any case.""He's different.""Is that a good thing?""You like danger, you like taking risks.""That isn't relevant.""Yes it is, he's a risk.""What if I don't want to take a risk? He's probably forgotten about me anyway, why does it matter?""You know you want to, and you know he hasn't forgotten. You're imagining him curled up in the corner of a room, that blank expression gnawing through the wall he's staring through with silent tears flooding the room. All because of you. That's why it matters."With no reply, his conscience battled through to Louis' truth."He can't speak."Louis cleared his throat, ridding of the thick lining breaking his strong wall hiding the truth."I know," Louis croaked."He looked so fragile and vulnerable.""I know," Louis repeated."You want to help him."Silence engulfed Louis and the murmur in his head until Louis' mouth choked out the words which felt so bittersweet on his tongue."I know."

So that's how Louis found himself trudging back into that familiar building, his -still ballet shoe clad- feet leading him to that certain room where he knew the boy would be. Obviously he'd ran through his mind's state thousands of times, wondering on whether he should enter the world of the curious boy, but each time it returned to one of Louis' traits: helping. He always wanted to help. Whether it be a simple unloading of the groceries, or trying to transform an, evidently delicate, boy's life for the better, he'd do it. Louis knew he could help him. Albeit they were polar opposites, Louis being the most chatty person you could ever come across and Harry, well, not being able to talk at all. But Louis thought it could work. What was the harm in trying?His light steps crossed the entrance and floated through the corridor, stopping short at the illusive door. With a deep breath to drink in courage, something strange for Louis to do, his hand creased down on the handle and pushed the door open.Harry didn't move when the door clicked open and whooshed air into the room, nor did he react when a presence stood behind him. He was totally and utterly lost in the sound the keys made as his fingers pressed down on them expertly. His green orbs were hidden by his pale eyelids, his eyes shut to embrace the tune without distraction.Slowly pulling up the spare stool, Louis perched by the top end of the keys and braced his fingers over the pearls. Cautiously, sneaking prolonged glances at the boy to gage his reaction, Louis' fingertips pressured down and sounded the first tinkling note.Harry didn't jump in shock and scuffle to the corner of the room as Louis suspected; he instead just shot his eyes open and stared inquisitively at the intruder. His fingers kept gracing the keys and continuing the flowing song, whilst his concentration settled on Louis. His eyes danced around Louis' form, taking in his structure and stance and deciphering his ulterior motives. Finding none, his eyes struck down to the nimble digits of the other boy and watched as they created a complimentary accompaniment to Harry's own music.As the song came to a close, neither moved nor made a noise. Louis let Harry adjust to his large presence, whilst securing his thoughts that it was the respective thing to do."The Script, huh?" he spoke out, referring to the song they played together. Harry didn't reply; he didn't do anything except stare at the keys as if in a trance."Harry, isn't it?" The flickering of Harry's eyes up quickly to Louis' face but straight back down to the keys was enough reassurance to Louis that he was indeed correct, and that Harry wasn't objecting his attendance."I'm Louis, Louis Tomlinson. I'm a student here. Not that that really matters. I'm guessing you're the charity event manager's son? It's a lovely thing for your Mum to do that; the kids will really appreciate it."Louis found it hard to regulate to the lack of contact from the boy, not even a movement towards him to show that he was listening. But it didn't put him off, not in the slightest. He knew that Harry was listening, even with the stone blank expression that didn't twitch at all; he knew the boy was filtering his bright words, whether he was enjoying them or not was beyond him, but it was enough to know his attempts to help we registering."Do you know any other songs by The Script? Do you fancy playing them...with me?"The only reply, a short while after Louis' offer, was the clinking of the keys rounding into the familiar tune of one of The Script's songs.

As they played through most of the album's songs, Louis couldn't help but watch in awe as Harry's fingers melted upon the keys to create nothing less than a fascinating masterpiece every time. It was truly mesmerising. Even if Harry couldn't speak through his words, he could speak through his music. Each press of the finger prompted a different emotion, the light tinkles showing delicacy but the hard thumps providing strength and roughness.Once hours had passed and the songs had come to a finish, Louis' confident mind spoke without thought. "They're touring up here on Friday, do you fancy going?"And that's when Louis knew he went too far.Harry froze up, his body tensing dramatically. His top teeth caught over his bottom lip and he breathed in and out through his nose consecutively to rid himself of nervous emotions."I'm sorry, I-""Oh Harry, wouldn't that be fabulous!" a high voice interrupted them. Both their heads shot around to Anne who was standing in the doorway, her smile wide and her eyes slightly teary. Harry's eyes shifted around her face, not touching her eyes, to show his awkwardness and resentment for her intrusion and willing acceptance of the situation at hand."Hello dear, I'm Anne, Harry's Mum," she said to Louis."Louis Tomlinson, I'm just a student here," he replied warmly but with slight discomfort."So Harry, what do you think? You've never been to a concert before, it'll be so fun!" Anne said enthusiastically.Harry shook his head hesitantly, a slow movement that looked like it sprouted from caution and nerves."It's just that I had a spare ticket because my mate pulled out last minute and well...it's alright if you don't want to go, it was just a suggestion. I mean you don't even know me so...""That doesn't matter! You can get to know each other!" Anne said happily, crouching down so to reach Harry's level and smoothing her fingers through the thick mass of curls. "Come on Harry, this'll do you good. I know how much you like them. Don't overthink it, alright? Louis seems like a nice lad, he'll take care of you; won't you Louis?""Yeh, sure," Louis replied definitively."Look, baby, you don't even have to stay for the whole thing, you can come home whenever you like. Louis can have my number and he'll make sure you're safe all the time; he won't leave you, won't you not Louis?""No, I won't leave your side unless you want me to. I'll cling by you so much you'll probably get sick of me straight away," Louis chuckled. He didn't know why he was trying so hard to get Harry to go to the concert with him; he guessed it just felt like the right thing to do."What d'you think?" Anne asked softly.Tentatively, Harry nodded slowly, leading to both Anne and Louis breaking out into a large grin.Louis most definitely could not wait for Friday to arrive.