“Harry Styles, son of Anne Styles, Furniture shop owner–” Simon introduces.
“Twenty-eight, 5’11”, educated, renowned pastry chef, mummy issues, likes working out and expensive clothes–” Louis cuts.
“You came prepared!” Simon rubs his hands together. “They told me you were good!“
“Don’t act so surprised. I always come prepared. Tell me what I don’t know about the target. What is his problem? What makes him tick? Why isn’t his fiancé the perfect match?”
Simon sighs and opens another file.
“Liam Payne.” Simon points at the picture of a smiley crinkly eyed guy with a handsome, friendly face. “Heir of a diamond empire.” Louis examines Payne’s picture. He doesn’t look like a prick. Then again, they rarely do. “You have ten days to break up their engagement.”
FINALLY HAS CAME THE DAY WHEN WE GET TO HEAR THE MASTERPIECE THE FUCKING GRAMMY WORTHY SONG THAT IT’S FOOL’S GOLD SANG LIVE AND IT’S GOING TO BE SANG IN IT’S ENTIRETY BY NIALL BEST DAY OF MY DAMN PATHETIC LIFE