Louis had never had a dream feel so real before.

It was pitch black in the room he was in—the only source of light seemed to be coming from a spotlight that was directed to the center of a stage that was elevated almost to the ceiling of the (what seemed to be) 30 story building.

Louis realized he was on a platform that was also elevated at a tall height. He shuddered, but looked back up at the spotlight, and realized there was someone standing under it, and he knew it would only take one guess to figure out who it was.

"Harry?"

The curly haired boy didn't respond, instead, he lifted his head towards the light and stared at it, with an empty look in his eyes.

Louis sighed and looked around, trying to find a way to get to him. As his eyes scanned the room, he spotted a tall ladder leaning against another podium that led to the stage. He quickly ran over to it and began his climb.

As he reached the top of the podium, he heard Harry shift and look down, their eyes meeting. Louis smiled up at him, and Harry gave him a frightened look and then immediately turned back to the light, not even squinting when the sharp rays of the light hit his face.

Louis grunted and headed up another ladder that led to the stage, silently thanking God that Simon made the boys do daily workouts to increase their metabolism.

He panted as he reached the final bar of the ladder and climbed up to the stage, walking slowly over to Harry.

Louis smiled softly as he saw the light hitting Harry's face. It was almost as if he were…glowing. Every light that bounced off of him emitted a shine that was indescribable to him.

He looked like an angel.

Louis was too busy admiring Harry that he didn't realize he stepped on a creaky floorboard, which caused Harry to jump up in surprise,

"Who is there?"

"It's me," Louis whispered, "It's Louis."

Harry shielded his eyes from the light and looked toward the direction of Louis' voice.

Louis quickly made himself visible and reached out to grab Harry's hand. Harry pulled it back away from him, holding it and bringing it to his chest. He gave Louis an incredulous look and breathed,

"You…you can see me?"

Louis' breath caught in his throat, and swallowed the thick lump in his throat, his voice full of fear, "Yes, of course I can. Why wouldn't I be able to?"

Harry looked back towards the light and shook his head, "This isn't what I thought it would be."

"What do you mean?" Louis went to reach for him again, but decided against it.

"You're not supposed to see me. I thought…this was it."

Louis was confused, "What is it?"

Harry sighed and turned his head, his eyes locking with Louis', "Isn't this where people go when they've gone?" He looked back towards the light, "Isn't a person's afterlife supposed to be a place they love?" A pause. "You're not supposed to be able to see me. I'm supposed to be invisible to everyone." He let out a harsh breath, "Even you."

Louis had a stone look about him. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he heard Harry's words.

Afterlife.

So that meant…Harry was dead.

But, he'd never had a dream like this before. Harry was always alive in his dream. Something wasn't right.

"I don't think this is your afterlife, Harry."

"Why not? I love this place. I love the stage. I love being here with you!" He smiled gratefully, "It makes sense." Louis shook his head and pointed to the spotlight,

"If this were your afterlife, you wouldn't be looking into a light trying to get there, would you?"

Harry smiled and looked back at the light, shrugging, "I guess you are right." He gave him a grand grin, "You're always right."

Louis smiled and held out his hand, and Harry cautiously took it, "Come on," Louis began, "Let's get off the stage."

Harry nodded hesitantly, taking a look back at the spotlight before Louis dragged him to the ladder.

Once Louis reached the end of the stage, he frowned and scratched his head, looking nervously around the grand room.

Alas, there was no ladder to be found.

Louis groaned and dropped Harry's hand, panic striking through him.

"Lou? What's the matter?"

Louis shook his head, "We can't get down from here," He turned around, "The ladder is gone."

Harry shrugged, "Well maybe it'll turn up again." He said hopefully.

Louis nodded, but he knew it wouldn't.

Harry noticed Louis' disdain, "…Or maybe it won't."

Louis laughed softly and Harry put a loving hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, "What do we do?" Louis asked.

Harry smiled warmly at Louis, and the answer came to him so simply, so fluidly, it scared the wits out of Louis, "We jump off of the stage, of course."

"What?"

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed excitedly, dragging Louis over to the edge of the stage, pointing downwards, "Don't you see, Louis! This is what I have to do! That's how I have to get there!"

"Get where?"

"To my afterlife!"

Louis felt his blood boil and he squeezed Harry's hand, dragging him away from the edge and pulling him towards him, so their bodies were inches from each other,

"Why are you doing this?" Louis asked, completely seething.

"Doing what?" Harry asked, his smile fading.

"Why do you always insist on leaving me? Why do have to do this, huh? Why do you have to jump off of a fucking stage and plummet to your death?"

Harry frowned, and wiped a tear from Louis' eye that he didn't realize fell down his cheek. Harry cupped his face, letting this thumbs rub softly over his cheeks. Louis closed his eyes at his touch,

"Lou," He began, "I don't want to leave you, I have to—"

"Why?" Louis whispered, his eyes pleading for him to stay.

"Because," Harry began, "I can't be here anymore. Anywhere. The beach, this stage—I can't anymore. I can't stand having to watch you watch me leave you. And," He looked towards the edge of the stage, "You need to…move on from me."

Louis opened his mouth to protest but Harry stopped him by gripping his face slightly harder, "You do. I love you so much, Louis. But you hanging onto me even after I'm gone isn't fair to you." He smiled softly, "As much as I love that you want me, and that you love me, and that you always will, you can't do that forever."

"Yes I can. I will." Louis interjected, his voice stern.

"No, I won't let you. I don't want you to suffer anymore—"

"I'LL STILL BE SUFFERING, HARRY! Don't you get it—I can't do anything without you. I can't be without you! You're everything!"

"Louis, please. I love you enough to let you go, so that you can be happy. I just want you to be happy." A pause. "Please, just be happy. You can be happy without me, my love." Harry said, caressing Louis' cheeks.

"I can't be happy without you, Harry."

Harry wiped his own eyes of his tears and let his hands go back to cupping Louis' face, letting his finger rub away his tears.

"Harry…"

His whisper was cut off by Harry's lips colliding with his own. Harry's hands continued to hold Louis' face, and Louis groaned, allowed Harry's tongue to plunge into his mouth.

Louis continued to kiss him back, his hands falling to Harry's waist, pulling him closer.

He loved this. He never wanted this to end. It was the most perfect kiss he had ever experienced. He put almost everything he could into that kiss, savoring the moment and wanting his mind to remember every press of Harry's lips to his own. He wanted to remember every feeling Harry had ever made him feel. He never wanted to forget them.

Because he knew soon enough, Harry would leave him again.

They broke apart, and Harry pressed their foreheads together. His hand went to finger Louis' hair, and Louis smiled, "How can you leave me now after that?"

Harry frowned and rested his hand on Louis' neck, "It's hard for me to," He looked into Louis' eyes and couldn't help but smile, "Because that was amazing—because you are amazing."

Louis nodded, a glint of hope sweeping through him, though, the look in Harry's eyes convinced him to bury the hope deep into his core,

"But it's better for me if I leave…"

"No, Harry, please—"

Harry pressed a tender kiss to Louis' forehead, the tears that were falling down his cheek landing on Louis' hair. He let his lips linger on his skin as he whispered with a cracked voice,

"Goodbye, Louis."

"Don't go—"

"I must."

Harry released Louis quickly and before he knew it, he was standing at the edge of the stage.

Harry looked at Louis solemnly—like it would be the last time he would ever see Louis again.

"No…Harry…"

Harry turned back to look at the spotlight again. He closed his eyes, and Louis watched as a tear fell down his cheeks. Harry took another deep breath, took a step forward and leaned off of the stage—

"Harry, NO!"

And that was when Louis woke up.

Louis woke up. As soon as he opened his eyes, he sat up and looked around, almost half expecting to see Harry sitting in the auditorium chair next to him.

But he wasn't.

And for that, Louis was almost thankful.

Louis stretched his arms and let his back crack, deciding that maybe taking a power nap in the middle of rehearsal in an auditorium chair probably wasn't the best idea.

He stood up and immediately Niall, Zayn and Liam were surrounding him. Hands were rubbing his arms and face, and Louis had to push them away,

"What are you guys doing? What's the matter with you?"

The three boys gave each other nervous looks, and Zayn spoke, cautiously, "You…you were talking in your sleep, Lou."

The color from the eldest boy drained and he returned, "What…did I say?"

Liam spoke, his voice calm and soft, "You kept saying Harry's name. And you told him to stop leaving you…what is going on, Louis?"

Louis grunted, "Nothing is going on. It was just a dream, it meant nothing—"

"Boys!" A voice came from the other side of the auditorium and the four boys turned around to come face to face with a smiling Simon Cowell.

Louis took a deep breath and smiled back, "Hello Simon."

"Why are you boys not rehearsing? You lot have a show in a few days! Come on, now. Get on the stage—I want to see what you boys have been doing these past few months. I hope you haven't been just hanging around and being childish fools!"

The four boys laughed and walked over to the stage, taking their marks and adjusting their microphone stands. Louis looked out into the empty auditorium, smiling a little bit. This was where he was supposed to be, and he knew it.

His thoughts were immediately drifted to Harry. Harry, the person he loved to share this stage with. Louis loved being on the stage, but he loved Harry more—and the fact that Harry wasn't here broke Louis' unfixable heart.

But as much as it killed him that Harry wasn't on stage with him, he needed to stay, because like continuing to live at the apartment, being on the stage gave Louis a connection to Harry.

And he would be damned if he was going to let that go.

He saw Simon grinning at the four of them, and he waved his hand, which cured the bright spotlight to flash onto them.

Louis squinted when the light hit his face, and he shuddered, remembering the dream he had had.

He looked into the light, and saw that after a few moments, his eyes adjusted easily to it—he was so mesmerized by the light—by the thought of Harry standing under the light in his dream—that he almost missed his cue.

He and the boys began dancing in sync, and he walked up to the edge of the stage and continued to dance, singing along with the boys.

He took a step forward, and smiled at Liam, who returned the grin. However, after he looked down towards the edge of the stage, his face turned to one of horror,

"Louis! Look out!" Liam exclaimed.

Louis looked forward and cried out, realizing he had misjudged the length of his step. He ended up toppling over the edge of the stage, and hitting the floor with a loud BANG!

All he remembered was seeing the light—it's glow shining directly on him. It was so strong—it made him sweat, and it put him under pressure. It made him think of Harry, and all of his fucking dreams. He almost wanted the light to take him to Harry, to take him to wherever he went after he jumped off of the stage in his dream.

He just wanted to see him. To see him for real, and not be a figment of his imagination. And maybe convince him to stay and not leave him again

He didn't know what was happening, or what he was doing, or how suddenly he was in a pair of big, strong arms and was being lifted from the floor, but one thing he did know…

He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

Simon Cowell slammed his fist onto a marble counter, holding an envelope in one hand, and his cell phone in the other.

The receptionist at the counter, who was beyond startled, shuffled papers around and smiled weakly, "H—how can I help you?"

Simon lifted his sunglasses from his eyes and pushed them up to his forehead, he frowned at the short brunet, "I need to speak to Charlie."

The brunet gave him wide eyes, "Ch—charlie? But—but he won't let me take appointments—"

"Tell him it's Simon with an inquiry."

The brunet nodded in fear and stood up, rushing down a narrow hallway and knocking on the door at the end of it, on the left,

"Charlie? A mister Simon is here for you?"

Simon was unable to make out Charlie's reply, but he assumed it was positive, because the short brunet, who even with heels looked like a hobbit, walked back down the hallway and beckoned Simon forward,

"You can follow me."

Simon nodded and followed the woman to the end of the hallway. He smiled at her as he walked away, and he let himself into Charlie's office.

"Hello, Charlie."

Charlie, a stout man with a white moustache, turned around in his swivel chair and perched his glasses on his nose, "Simon Cowell. What brings you here?"

Simon slammed the envelope down on Charlie's desk, his eyes wide with fire.

"This, Charlie."

Charlie stared at the envelope and opened it, his eyes widening when he saw what was inside.

"Yes, I know. I've been sending you these bills—"

"No, Charlie. Look at the address."

Charlie flipped over the envelope and his eyes widened, "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Simon said sarcastically.

Charlie took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his thumbs, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize we made that mistake. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to get back from him."

Simon shook his head, "Not a problem at all, I was able to swipe it off of Louis' coffee table when I went over there the other day." He paused, "He saw my wrist band, too, Charlie."

Charlie nodded and motioned for Simon to take the seat in front of him and Simon obliged.

"I'm sorry about the bill, Simon. I'll make sure it gets sent to you and not to Louis' flat."

"Thank you," Simon said in relief.

Charlie continued, "But…don't you…don't you think it's time you told him?" He proceeded cautiously, being careful around Simon's well-known flaring temper.

Simon adjusted his tie and glanced up at Charlie, "Told who what?"

"Told Louis the truth." Charlie said bluntly.

Simon shook his head, "Absolutely not—"

"But it's been three months, Simon! I've seen the kid on T.V.—he doesn't look well at all! He seems damn miserable! I think everyone in the damn country knows, just by the look of him! I think you owe it to him—"

"He's not ready to know! He won't handle it well. He needs more time." He stared at Charlie hard, "He needs more time, Charlie." He reiterated.

Charlie shook his head and sighed, "You're the boss man, and I'm just the bill sender. But I'm telling you, it's not fair to him."

Simon narrowed his eyes at him and stood up, "Stick to your job, Charlie. Make sure no more bills get sent to that flat. And I'll handle this my way. Understand?"

Charlie got up and nodded, following Simon out the door. The two men shook hands, but Charlie held on a bit longer.

"I know it's not my business, Cowell. But that's a kid you got there. A vulnerable kid. I know in your eyes he's part of your business, but you have to remember that too."

Simon, again, looked down at Charlie. Charlie did have a point—these boys were just entering adulthood—they had no idea what they were doing, and that's why Uncle Simon was there to guide them. And yes, though Louis was the oldest, he knew Louis was going through a rough time.

But he knew Louis wasn't ready. If his actions over the past few weeks were any indication, Simon didn't know if he would ever be ready. None of the boys were, if he were being honest. But when it came to Louis…Simon was almost sure he never wanted Louis to know what was going on.

He didn't want to give Louis any type of false hope, because he knew Louis' feelings weren't going to go away.

Especially since the secret he held could potentially change his life.