Louis Tomlinson was a rockstar, on the peak of his career. He's been in the music industry since he was sixteen. He's seen it all, the afterparties that went way past dawn, where the booze never ran out and the drugs were handed out like candy.

Girls too young to be there, slipping into rooms with men who promised them the world. Lines of coke cut on broken mirrors, passed between hands that shook from too many highs and not enough sleep. Fights broke out over nothing, and more than once, he’d seen someone carried out, unconscious, while the music kept playing, the laughter too loud, too forced.

Louis comes into an after party and approaches the car, putting a cigarette between his lips as he sees a young girl standing next to him and shakes his head.

"Aren't you a little too young to be here?" Louis muttered, his voice flat, detached, as he downed the shot in front of him without a second glance. He'd seen this scene play out too many times to care.