Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/3491573. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: F/F, F/M, M/M Fandom: One_Direction_(Band) Relationship: Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson, Zayn_Malik/Liam_Payne, Zayn_Malik/Harry Styles/Louis_Tomlinson, Liam_Payne/Harry_Styles, Liam_Payne/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn_Malik/Liam_Payne/Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Laura_Whitmore Character: Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson, Zayn_Malik, Liam_Payne, Niall_Horan, Simon Cowell, Cheryl_Fernandez-Versini, Laura_Whitmore Additional Tags: Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Female_Louis_Tomlinson, Female_Zayn Malik, Threesome, Foursome, Recreational_Drug_Use, Underage_Drinking, Classism Stats: Published: 2015-03-06 Chapters: 1/? Words: 3549 ****** on my misspent youth, i have no regrets (we beez in the trap) ****** by fraisage Summary New kid Liam Payne gets caught up in a whirlwind of new friends and too much money. He'd be lying if he said he wanted out. Louis thinks the new boy is just Zayn's type. Harry's really good at carrying stuff, especially Louis. "Rich kids behaving badly" au. Notes See the end of the work for notes Liam James Payne knows he’s got a great life. He’s got an awful lot to be thankful for: his magic kidney, his lovely older sisters, his outstanding mum, and his amazing dad, the hardest-working man he’s ever known. As a child, Liam had always told anyone who’d listen that his dad built rocket ships (airplanes, his mother would clarify, and only little ones). No one could have known that ten years later, after a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, Liam’s childhood fancy would come true. The little company his dad had helped build from the ground-up was now a multi-million dollar subsidiary of Boeing, and his dad was now honest-to-god building rocket ships for NASA. Later on, his mum would tell him that she hadn’t been as surprised as everyone else. Not when Liam had spent the better part of his childhood tell everyone that his father built rocket ships. Not with knowing Liam’s knack for predicting the impossible. After all, he’d spent most of the same years telling her, “Don’t worry mummy, I’ll get better soon. I’ll be all better when I grow up.” Sure enough, his magical kidney had made its appearance ten years later as well. Rather than some magical prophet, Liam just likes to think of himself as an optimist, someone who can see the best in people. His dad was successful because he was a skilled, hard-working man who wanted to do right by his family. Liam’s kidney wasn’t necessarily magic, just that the amazing doctors at the hospital and the care of his family helped him get better under the most unlikely of circumstances. That’s what Liam believes, because the other possibility is that his predictions come in ten-year cycles. And sitting here, sixteen years-old, in his incredibly stuffy new uniform (the tie’s crooked, but he’d tried his best), in his new, posh (American!) school, in front of his new (British, thankfully) headmaster, waiting for a stranger to come and show him around, he’s never felt so out of place before. Because he’s not ready for two years as a fish out of water, with even less friends than before, and his family an entire ocean away. So, Liam Payne, he’s an optimist.                                                                                                                      * A typical Monday for any American high schooler starts like this: wake up late, panic, get dressed, panic, grab your stuff, panic, run out the door, more panic about missing the bus, get on the bus just in time, spend the rest of the bus ride trying to get your heart rate down to a normal level. In general, miss breakfast because you have to make some concessions if you’re going to have a future. Arrive at school, realize you forget some crucial bit of homework, spend the rest of the day in misery, punctuated only by a lunch of cardboard pizza and broken dreams. Repeat as needed, until you get to college. Which you’ll be massively unprepared for because preparing you for things is not what high school was all about. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. For Mnemosyne Louisa “Louis” Tomlinson however, a typical Monday goes like this: wake up, get dressed, instagram her outfit-of-the day for her ten thousand followers to see, have a leisurely breakfast while the maids grab her stuff for Alberto to put in the car, get to school, and make her way to class at about nine-thirty. Most schools aren’t happy unless classes start at the crack of dawn. At Spheredew Academy, the administrators are happy to have classes start at a reasonable, scientifically-supported hour. Because according to the most recent research, teenagers’ brains aren’t ready to function until late morning, you know. It’s all for the good of the children (and the school’s funding). But mostly for the good of the children!                                                                                                                      * Louis gets dropped off on the sidewalk in front of the school building at nine on-the-dot. While some students like to drive, Louis really prefers to have Alberto chauffeur her to school. She’s just not about dealing with that New York City morning traffic, not when she could be relaxing in the backseat having a tea while scrolling through her instagram feed. Once Alberto comes around and opens the car door, handing over her bag, she steps out and Harry is, as expected, patiently waiting for her on the steps so they can walk to class together. He looks as good as ever, smiling at her with his big dimples, long curls pulled back into his usual “I’m trying to look a bit serious but not really” bun for school. Broad shoulders and long legs encased in their truly-tragic red and navy uniform. Not that he doesn’t look good, but the fact that he’s left so many buttons open on his uniform shirt vastly improves the whole look. Louis is also partial to the bevy of rings Harry has regularly decorating each of his long fingers, not in the least because they’ve bought most of them together. Louis is just glad that none of the administrators actually care what the students’ look like, as long as they’re wearing the uniform in some way, shape, or form. It says a lot when Harry is more likely to get asked about the meaning behind his tattoos than being told off because “Young man, this academy has a reputation to maintain!” Or the fact that Louis in general doesn’t like her uniform skirt to be more than three inches below her bum. Once she waves goodbye to Alberto and makes her way to him, Harry’s quick to hook his arm around her waist. Not that Louis minds, on the best days she likes to have Harry piggyback her to class. “How was the weekend, Lou?” Harry asks, not so subtly rubbing his fingers against her hip, rings glinting in the sun. Louis knows he’s just asking because she’d actually been a bit busy over the weekend, with her mandatory “My parents are divorced but they still insist on visiting me at the same time every month and showering me with presents as they try to outdo each other for my love” weekend. And consequently she hadn’t invited him over for their customary “Saturday English homework fuck-fest.” The poor baby was probably feeling a bit deprived. “As a matter of fact, not as awful as I thought it’d be. They were surprisingly civil once I threatened to really make a scene. Plus, Daddy gave me a gorgeous kate spade scallop bangle, and Mummy gave me the loveliest Tiffany gold and pearl earrings. Not that I could wear either of them today,” Louis says, pouting. “And why is that darling?” Harry asks. He’s obviously only half-paying attention to anything she’s saying. Judging by how close his hand’s getting to the hem of her skirt, Harry’s only “interested” in her weekend because he’s trying to figure out if he can get Louis to agree to a lunchtime quickie in one of the private student lounges. “Harry. You know they both follow me on instagram! If I’d worn one present over the other today their feelings would have been hurt! And I couldn’t do that to Mummy and Daddy!” Louis scoffs. Honestly, as if she’d let Harry and his insatiable dick anywhere near her now. “Why not wear both then, Lou?” Harry asks, and Louis knows he’s just playing dumb at this point. Because Harry doesn’t subscribe to the old adage “less is more,” he also knows that Louis couldn’t do that to herself (or her followers). Over-accessorizing would have ruined her mood for the entire day, although to be fair, under-accessorizing is having much the same effect. She was feeling a bit lacking in just her uniform and the gold earrings she’d gotten at her christening (although the close-up of her wearing them had earned a “like” from both her parents, something Louis has learned is an acceptable substitute for both love and approval). Louis hopes the look she gives Harry appropriately conveys all of this plus her utter disappointment in him. Of course Harry doesn’t look the least bit contrite. Instead, he’s giving her his smirky “I did good, praise me!” look, the one Louis can’t stand but also totally loves because it means she’s either going to be getting something good or getting it good. Today it looks like it’s going to be the former, mostly because they’re standing in public but also because Harry’s reaching into his satchel to present her with a very promising little package. Louis takes the box, emblazoned with “Chloé” on the face, and opens it to reveal the very set of double brass rings she’s been eyeing for the last week. Louis quickly slips both rings onto her right hand before she throws her arms around Harry’s waist (she’d go for his neck but reaching it is a feat for her even when Harry’s not on the step above her’s, not even her on tippy-toes could manage it), “Oh Hazza you shouldn’t have! How’d you ever know!” she squeals, holding out her hand to really admire the way the rings shine in the light. Harry’s grinning, lovesick, “I got ‘em the day after I knew you wanted them. Just waiting for the perfect time to give ‘em to you. Thought today would be perfect, since I know how going without a fair bit of shine makes you feel. I do pay attention to your instagram y’know. Knew as soon as I saw your sad face what must’ve happened. Plus, I figured I’d better practice getting rings on your finger as soon as I can.” Honestly, Louis can feel herself tearing up. Because Harry is just the best boyfriend. Not just because he knows her so well and buys her everything she loves and gives it to her so good she sometimes feels like she’s left her body and is looking down on the clouds. Louis just loves him a lot, okay? Normally, she’d reward him with a proper snog session in the back of his Range Rover, but Louis has a policy of being on her best behavior on Mondays. Which doesn’t include being late to class, or being caught making out in front of the school, even if the look in Harry’s eyes is already kind of getting her going. So instead she gives him a tiny peck on the mouth and a squeeze of the fingers, enjoying the feeling of their rings scraping together, before dragging him along to class. Not that Harry puts up any resistance. She knows he’d follow her all the way to the ends of the earth, even follow her off the edge if there was one.                                                                                                                     * Louis is sitting in first-period physics, Harry on one side pressed against her (way too close for him to not be thinking about trying something), Zayn passed out on her shoulder on the other. Which, even if it’s a not-so-secret that Spheredew is essentially an escalator school for every Ivy League in the country, she could still try to stay awake. Louis herself doesn’t concede to a nap until at least fourth period. Which she won’t be doing today because she still has her English essay to finish for fifth period.  Louis had thought she could put it off for a few days until Mummy and Daddy both said they were coming to visit her. And now it was Monday and Louis still hadn’t finished her essay about how Lady Macbeth could’ve been the baddest bitch in the whole play if she’d just fucking committed to the murdering thing and gotten rid of her weak-ass husband. Guilt is for the weak (coincidentally, the exact first line of her essay), and Louis has never entertained the idea of it. For that matter, neither has Zayn, who Louis knows is the actual baddest bitch on the planet and her best friend. Although Louis is kind of reconsidering that designation, since Zayn is basically drooling on her, with her fringe all over her face. A drooling supermodel is still a supermodel, but still. Drool stains on a white blouse would just be too heinous. Louis thoughts about her essay and the merits of letting Harry wiggle his fingers under her skirt just a little are interrupted by the static-y screech of the intercom, which announced “Will Ms. Mnemosyne Tomlinson please come down to Dr. Cowell’s office, Mnemosyne Tomlinson.” Dr. Wyatt nods at her to leave and take her things, since there’s only about fifteen minutes left in the period and God knows what Simon wants to bother her about now. Louis gently lowers Zayn’s head onto the desk, pillowed with Harry’s blazer, before grabbing her bag. Harry, gorgeous boy that he is, promises not to let Zayn crack her head open without her there. Louis does need someone to proofread her essay later, after all. Her inherent mischievous qualities aside, it’s only a Monday. What could she have possibly done this time?                                                                                                                    * Cheryl buzzes her into Simon’s office as soon as she arrives, pressing the speaker to announce Louis’ arrival and giving her a smile. Louis just loves Cheryl, being that everyone knows who really runs the school. Plus she’s got like the sickest back tattoo, with huge roses all over. The weird thing is that the headmaster's not the only one in the office when Louis enters. There’s a boy already sitting across from Simon’s far-too-large, you’re-definitely-overcompensating-for-something desk. He’s quite cute actually, a bit of a mix between a confused puppy and David Beckham. Louis gives mystery-boy a wink before greeting Simon with a wide smile and saying, “Have a lovely weekend Simon? How’s the missus getting along with the new baby?” Louis can afford to be familiar now that she knows she hasn’t been called in for anything bad. Simon gives her his customary “You’re lucky your parents are paying me to keep you alive” smile (the one he gives every student, although Louis likes to think the one he gives her is always a little extra pained), as he says, “Ms. Tomlinson, please sit down. I’d like you to meet your new year-mate, Mr. Liam Payne.” The boy gives her a nervous half-smile with a little wave. He’s just too adorable, really. Louis could eat him all up down to his bones. But this boy’s just Zayn’s type, so Louis will kindly leave him to be eaten down to his bone- er, as it were. Dr. Cowell must recognize the look in her eyes, dealing with as many horny teenagers on a daily basis as he does, because before she can even get a word in he says, “Mnemosyne, I’d like you to show Mr. Payne around and make him feel welcome, I trust you can do this? He’s just come all the way from England, you see. ” And just like that Louis knows that the reason she’s been called down is because a) Dr. Cowell has a soft spot for the many, many British expatriates in the school, and b) Louis is familiar with everyone who’s anyone in the school. Essentially, he’s trusting Louis to help Liam find his place, his clique, his “home away from home.” Which has been sorted, because Louis has already decided that this lovely specimen of a boy will fit in very nicely with her and hers at the top. She’s an absolute saint, she is. Of course, she doesn’t say any of this out loud. God-forbid Simon try to do anything like “save” Liam or anything like that. She just gives him a big smile and says, “You can count on me, sir!” in her most simpering voice. Simon looks as bit queasy at that. Which, fuck him, because she’s going to tell Lauren all about how mean he was being when they have brunch on Saturday and then he’d get his. Turning back towards Liam, who’s still looking a little nervous, she says, “Follow me if you want to live!” before walking out of his office. She doesn’t even need to give him a second glance to know he’ll be scrambling after her.                                                                                                                   * Louis waits about five minutes before Liam comes stumbling out of the office, looking around frantically like he’s afraid she’s left (if she hadn’t already decided to keep him she honestly might’ve), coat and satchel his hands. His uniform and hair are totally rumpled, like a complete disgrace. Liam gives her a bright smile though (darling boy) and says, “So, Mnemosyne, right? I think we should maybe get to my locker first? Can’t be going around carrying all this the entire day, can I?” He holds up his stuff and shrugs his shoulders self-deprecatingly, and oh, he’s so after-school special that Louis really does want to eat him all up, never mind Zayn. But Louis knows she has to set him to rights if he’s even going to survive his first day. She steps right into his space, never mind the fact that he’s like half a foot taller than her, doesn’t even care when he flails a little before dropping all his stuff in a pile on the ground. “First of all, Liam dear, its Louis. Nobody calls me Mnemosyne except my nan, and unless you’re planning to write me into your will, I wouldn’t risk it. Second of all,” she reaches out and starts pulling at his lapels and straightening his tie, “You’ve got to get yourself together. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, and God-forbid I be seen with you walking around like this. You could be mistaken for a scholarship student for goodness’ sake! Then what would Zayn think of you?!” Suddenly the bell’s ringing, high and clear in the hallway. Louis gives him a second to gather up his stuff before she’s dragging him to their next class, briskly saying “Hurry up Payno, we’re going to be late for maths!”                                                                                                                  *   Liam doesn’t really understand what’s going on. First he’d had to sit through his meeting with Dr. Cowell, the headmaster, who’d gone on and on about how wonderful it was to have him as a student, and how he hoped Liam would feel welcome, and how he knew just the person to show him around the school and make him feel right at home. Liam hadn’t understood how he could possibly manage that when home is an ocean away, until an absolutely tiny girl bangs into the office. She, Mnemosyne apparently, had filled up the room despite her diminutive size, not the least because of her surprisingly loud, Northern accent, which had belied her posh looks. It actually does make him a little less homesick, just knowing there are other British kids in this school. He’d sat in the chair, nervously watching as the girl actually bantered with the headmaster (Simon, apparently) and then left with a shout, gone as quick as she’d come. Liam had looked helplessly at Dr. Cowell, but the man had only sighed and gestured toward the door, obviously expecting him to follow her, as if he thought Liam had no sense of self-preservation! That being said, he’d known he’d had no choice, and so Liam’d grabbed his stuff as fast as he could before running out the door after her. He really doesn’t expect her to jump him like she does, getting all up in his space. Now his stuff’s all over the floor as Mnemosyne, no, Louis, is grabbing him all over, pulling and tugging in ways that make him squirm on the inside (she’s just so…assertive). Next her hands are all up in his hair, brushing his curls this way and that. It’s a little upsetting, given that Liam had wasted a good part of the morning trying to get his curls just right. He doesn’t know why he bothers really. Sometimes he just wants to shave it all off (if David Beckham could pull it off, well…his mum does say they look a bit alike). The bell’s ringing then, and Liam’s grabbing his stuff and being pulled along by Louis' tiny hand. His last clear thoughts are, “Who the fuck is Zayn?” and, “Do I even have maths next period?” before they’re being caught up in the wave of students, and oddly enough it’s Louis who’s keeping Liam from being drowned by the crowd, instead of the other way around.                                                                                                                     * The bell’s ringing and Dr. Wyatt’s dismissing them without a second glance, already readying himself for the next group of entitled students with more money than sense. Harry has admittedly dozed off a bit himself since Louis left (surprisingly, it’s usually easier to focus when Louis is next to him, since then Harry won’t spend the whole lesson wondering where she’s gone). But he’s more than eager to get going now, knowing Louis’ll be waiting for him in their next class. He hoists Zayn up and over one shoulder, their bags over the other, taking care to smooth down her skirt (Louis and Zayn would kill him if he didn’t, he'd be done for), before making his way out of the classroom. Zayn doesn’t wake-up, doesn’t even stir a bit. Harry reckons she could sleep through a bomb dropping, the apocalypse, and the rapture all rolled up in one. She could wake up with her world flipped on it’s axis, and she’d be none the wiser. End Notes I'm not hardcore in the least, so don't expect much too from me. Mostly just an excuse to write about them spending a lot of cash without the consequences. I wanted to write about Louis wearing lots of pretty things and Zayn came along for the ride. I personally imagine girl-Louis as Natalie Dormer with a touch of Emma Stone, and super tiny. Louis gets to meet Liam first because of that Lilo & Stitch-inspired post on tumblr (e.g. Liam wishes for a nice friend, what he gets is Louis). They're all going to fuck/assorted other stuff at some point, so I've tagged for that. Niall won't show up for a bit according to what I've planned out, but he's got his own love (Laura Whitmore is amazing). This is going to be a total cheesefest. I never watched Gossip Girl but the girls' uniforms are partially based on that (so four versions) but with navy/red. Boys are based on the tragic warbler school uniforms (whatever the school was called, I haven't really watched Glee either, just bits and pieces). Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!