We almost Had it

**

Louis had never planned on being in a band. Hell, before all of this, the idea had never even crossed his mind. But here he was—living in a house provided by a reality show, surrounded by people he hadn't known just months ago but had somehow become his bandmates. His friends. Or at least, something close to it. They got along well enough, better than he'd expected, really.

He still remembered the moment Simon had called them back on stage, his heart hammering in his chest, nerves buzzing under his skin. He hadn't known what to expect. Maybe another round of polite rejection, a "thank you, but no," something definitive that would send him back to his normal life. He certainly hadn't expected this—standing shoulder to shoulder with a group of strangers, suddenly part of something much bigger than himself.

But this was good. He was good.

That thought still surprised him sometimes. He'd always liked singing, sure, but standing on a stage, sharing harmonies with others, feeling the electricity of a crowd that actually cared—it was different. Addictive, even. And now, as he sat on the worn-out couch in their shared house, guitar picks scattered across the coffee table, the faint sound of someone humming a melody in the kitchen, it hit him again.

This was his life now. Unplanned, unexpected—but maybe, just maybe, exactly where he was meant to be.

Right now, they were perched on the stairs of their house, crammed together in a way that made the whole setup feel more chaotic than professional. The camera was propped up on a stack of books, its little red light blinking as they recorded another video diary for their rapidly growing fanbase. The air buzzed with easy laughter, the kind that came from spending every waking moment together, from inside jokes that formed in the dead of night and from the kind of friendship that felt effortless.

Louis had taken on the role of unofficial narrator, a cheeky grin playing on his lips as he introduced each of them in turn. "Niall," he said, gesturing to Niall, who was already mid-laugh, "Is the funny one." Niall just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at the camera.

"And over here," Louis continued, tilting his head toward Liam, "Liam, is the smart one." Liam rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

Then Louis' gaze landed on the curly-haired boy beside him, his smirk softening just slightly. "Harry," he said, nudging Harry with his shoulder, "is the flirt."

Harry gasped dramatically, hand over his heart like he'd just been deeply offended. "I am not!"

Louis just raised an eyebrow, letting the silence stretch before giving the camera an exaggerated knowing look. The others laughed, throwing in their own playful jabs, but Louis barely heard them. His eyes lingered on Harry a beat too long, and for a split second, the teasing felt just a little too real. Not that it meant anything, of course. It was just a joke.

Just a joke.

Still, he forced himself to tear his gaze away, shaking his head as he turned back to the camera. "Anyway," he went on, voice light and easy, "that's us. Five idiots in a house, making music, causing chaos. You're welcome."

The others cheered, the moment slipping away as quickly as it had come. But even as they wrapped up the recording, Louis could still feel the ghost of it lingering, a quiet thing settling somewhere in his chest.

Afterwards, they all drifted into the living room of the X Factor house, the remnants of their laughter fading into the steady rustle of lyric sheets. The coffee table was covered in them—pages and pages of words they needed to have memorized by the end of the week. The pressure was real, heavier than they liked to admit, but they were getting used to it. Sort of.