We spend that day hanging out in the living room, watching tv. He offers to make me a "toastie," which I learn is a grilled cheese sandwich, and of course I agree. I mean, one: sandwich. Two: Harry. Three: butter. It's like everything you need in life, though not necessarily in that order. I wash the dishes after we eat (the toastie was fucking delicious by the way), and he snuggles with his cat. I watch him talking to her and petting her so sweetly. "You are very good at showing people affection. And, um, creatures." I think about his mom and sister and this house full of cats. He had good models. I had no models. No, it's fucking worse. I had bad models.

"You are too, Maddie," he says.

I blink at him. "I'm learning."

"Do you want to hold her?" He asks.

"No, I don't know how," I answer awkwardly. "I've never held an animal. What if I drop her?"

He laughs against her fur. "She's not a baby; she'll land on her feet. Just try." I dry my hands as he closes the gap between us. "Here, pet her first."

I run my hand down her fluffy gray back. Her fur is so soft. Like silk. She purrs and chirps, turning to look at me. He doesn't even have to hand her over, she climbs onto me. "Ow," I cringe as her claws dig into my shoulder.

"Sorry," he pries them out of my skin. "That's not aggression on her part. She is kneading your shoulder, as if you're her mother." I nod. "Scratch her back. She likes that." I do, and she chirps again, sounding a little like a pigeon. I laugh, and she raises her head up and flops it against my neck. "Sing to her," he says. "Sing the high part of Latch."

"Now I've got you in my space, I won't let go of you. Got you shackled in my embrace, I'm latching onto you," I sing softly. She meows and purrs and flops against me again. I bury my face against her fur. I look at Harry in surprise. "She smells like syrup."

He laughs. "Yeah, that's sort of her natural scent."

"Oh. My. God." I breathe it in again. "She's so sweet and pretty, and she smells like pancakes. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm going to have to eat your cat." He doubles over, shaking with laughter. "It's gonna happen."

"I love you, Maddie."

I smile, releasing his cat, who seems to have panicked. Like did she understand what I said? I mean, cats don't speak English. "I love you too, Harry. If you want to bring her back home with us, we can." So I can fucking eat her. Seriously, she is so cute, I just want to consume her.

He beams at me, "I would love to. But I don't know what the rules are for bringing cats across international waters. Plus, she'll be messy, and your house is so clean."

I laugh. I mean, my god, we are just always laughing. "You're messy, and our house is so clean because I clean it. But seriously, maybe we can find out what the rules are, and Gemma and your mom can bring her when they come."

He wraps his arms around my waist, pushing me against the counter. "Okay. Yes." He kisses me, a sweet but passionate kiss. His tongue moves across mine in slow loops, and he pulls my lower lip gently with his teeth. "We need to go. Gemma is expecting us in a few hours."

"But," I push my hips against him. I want more. He can't kiss me like that and not expect me to want more.

He runs his hands up to my neck, back down over my chest and to my hips. "So insatiable." He slides my pants down my legs and lifts me onto the counter. Oh, fuck. Something different. His finger pushes into me. "So wet." And then he frees his erection and pushes that into me. He spreads my legs wider with his hands, gripping the counter to pin them in place, and thrusts into me, faster than he ever has. Fuck. He is so deep. I lean back on my hands and give into the sensation, coming undone on his kitchen counter. And he follows right after, his movements faltering as he moans into my chest, "Maddie."

We go back upstairs to pack. I carry my two cases downstairs and am wiping down the counter when Harry comes down. He laughs at me. I protest, "I can't leave our sexual fluids on your mother's counter, Harry. It's rude." He laughs harder and tells me he loves me. I like how he tells me he loves me so much. I need to hear it. We say goodbye to the cats and head out, the fucking paparazzi taking shots of us as we load the car. Harry says it's usually a three hour trip, but we hit mad traffic along the way, and we are still a long way from Gemma's when she calls. He answers over the car's system.

"Harry, where are you?" She whines.

"About an hour out."

"Dad wants to take us all out to dinner. Hurry up, I'm starving." I raise my eyebrows at Harry. His dad? This is news to me.

"Okay, okay. Jesus, Gemma. We'll be there soon. Eat a fucking biscuit." He reaches for my hand after hanging up. "I didn't know my dad would be there. He usually spends his holidays with my gran in Germany."

"It's fine," I bite my lip. "I'm starving, too."

He laughs, and we use the rest of the drive to talk about his dad. All I knew before was that his parents split when he was seven and his dad is a musician. He's playing keyboard on tour with a band I've heard of, a band I really like. I learn that he and Gemma have stayed pretty close with him. Harry says he's funny, very witty. He helped Harry move to LA, flying out there with him a year ago. He knows all about me. Fuck. As we reach the outskirts of London, I start to get nervous.

But I don't know why I bother with feelings of worry or anxiety anymore. Honestly, nothing is ever as bad as I fear. And I just waste the good times I could be having on those negative emotions. And Harry's dad proves this point. He is so nice. He kisses my cheek--and I only barely flinch away from his touch--and he tells me Harry is madly in love with me. True. I blush.

"And Gemma has just been raving about you for the last two hours." Lies. She rolls her eyes.

"Now I know you're lying." They all laugh. I join them. "I love See Ya Next Wednesday," I tell him. And then I sing a few lines of one of their lesser known songs. Harry joins me, and we sing at the top of our lungs, right there on the fucking sidewalk. Gemma rolls her eyes, but she is beaming.

"Well, I'll see ya," Des says, walking away as if we're so embarrassing. "Next Wednesday." We all laugh again then walk to a nearby restaurant. Harry and I hold hands under the table, and I keep looking at him instead of Gemma or Des, and I miss most of the conversation, lost in Harry's eyes, his smile.

"I told you they were disgusting," Gemma remarks, and their dad chuckles.

"So, how long have you guys been seeing each other now?" He asks.

"Well, we've been friends since August," Harry answers, "but we've been together since the beginning of October, just over twelve weeks." Were we friends in August? Were we anything in August? Does it matter? I nod.

"And they live together now," Gemma adds. Harry glares at her.

But I just laugh. "Yeah, for the last month or so."

"That's great. You two are too bloody cute." Harry grins at his dad. "I'm happy for you."

At the end of the night, Gemma complains about the late hour. "Haz, you don't mind if I stay another night, do you? I'll stay on the sofa."

"It's your place, Gem."

"But I don't want to be in your way."

I glance at Harry. "I don't mind."

"You're the best, Maddie," Gemma says. "Maybe I can stick around for awhile?" She looks at Harry imploringly.

He frowns. "Who will feed the cats?"

She rolls her eyes again. "I'll call Mike. Come on, Haz, I miss you."

I rub my hand over his back. And he smiles, his deep-dimpled smile. "I mean, I guess." I laugh so hard I actually give myself the hiccups. He sounded just like me.

She shows us into her room, right next to the living room. We exchange a look that says, I guess we won't be doing it. I giggle involuntarily at his defeated expression, which promptly changes into a teasing threat. Like he'll tickle me. Or maybe like we'll do it anyway. But he doesn't. And we don't. We just sleep, and the next day, we meet up with Liam and the other guys to start the video shoot.

Paparazzi follow us to the studio Liam had booked, which has both a soundstage for video, and a sound booth for audio. I pay extra to have an engineer record the song and mix it professionally, and a few hours later, we play it back in the soundstage for the video. The guys look great, and I'm pleased with the footage we got. But all of us are filmed and photographed as we leave at the end of the day. I flip off a photographer who asks Harry if he only likes fat girls. So does he.

That evening, I work at cutting some of the footage together on my iMac. Harry watches over my shoulder. "You're really good at this," he comments, as I sync the sound to the video, making sure their mouths match their singing.

"It's not that hard, actually. It just takes some practice."

"It's quite hard, actually," he murmurs into my ear, "but unfortunately we can't practice here." I gasp and turn to stare at him, and he takes advantage of my open mouth, kissing me fervently. Fuck. I shouldn't have said Gemma could stay. We go to bed miserably unsatisfied.

And the next day, we shoot more scenes for the video, outside around the city. Louis claims that they checked the requirements for filming in these public spaces, and that we don't need a permit. I'm dubious, but I don't say anything. When we're all done, the guys suggest that we all get dinner at a pub nearby.

We're sitting in a booth at the back of this dark restaurant/bar, Liam and Harry and I against the wall, with Zayn, Niall, and Louis across from us. The food is weird. It's bland and gray and I can't identify most of the ingredients, so I just push my plate to the side. Niall eats it. And I laugh. Harry tenses beside me. I look at him, concerned. He is staring across the room. Louis glances over his shoulder and hops out of his seat. My eyes follow his path to a tall, leggy blonde girl with dark red lips. They seem to be arguing. Is that Louis' girlfriend? Or ex? She is gorgeous. She is skinny. She is walking this way.

She leans across the table in front of Harry, the two of them locked in that intense eye contact. My intense eye contact. "Fuck off, Fern," Liam says. Fern.

She only looks at Harry. "I just want you to know, Harry, I didn't cheat on you. I just said that to get you to stop calling me." He grips my hand under the table. "I miss you, Haz." She touches his cheek, and I want to stab her. I look from her to him. He does the same.

"Um, Fern," he clears his throat. "This is my girlfriend, Maddie. Maddie, this is Fern."

She finally turns to look at the rest of the table, scanning her eyes over the guys first, then letting them rest on me. She laughs, "You actually did it." Did what? Then she looks me up and down. "Well, sort of." Fuck you. I don't even know what she means by any of this. But I know an insult when I hear one.

"Fuck off, Fern," Liam says again, this time through gritted teeth. She raises her hands as if in surrender and straightens up, tugging down her short skirt. Jesus this girl is made of nothing but legs and arms. So long and skinny. So exactly the opposite of me. I mean, it seems like she is my opposite in every fucking way. My mom would think she's so pretty. "Let's go, Harry," Liam says, once Fern is out of sight.

Harry and I walk down the street towards Gemma's place holding hands, but we don't speak. Finally, I can't take it anymore. "What did she mean, you actually did it?"

"It's nothing." Harry waves his free hand in the air.

I squeeze his hand. I need to know what the fuck is going on. I'm barely holding back my panic. "Harry."

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. "When we first argued about me moving out to LA, she just kept saying that I was going to find some Hollywood actress and forget her." What the fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Some hot Hollywood actress, she always said."

I stop walking and stare at him, folding my arms over my chest. And then I nod, "hence the sort of."

"Come on, Maddie. Don't do that." He reaches for me, but I am frozen. I can feel my protective walls being rebuilt. And it fucking sucks. "Maddie, I love you. You know that."

I nod. I do. I think. But tears are pooling in my eyes, and my heart is aching.

"Maddie, no. No, please don't let her do this to you." I just stare, shaking my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Maddie, talk to me. Please, what are you thinking?"

"She's so pretty. So tall and thin. And you loved her once. And now that she didn't cheat on you, which is what made you stop loving her, will you love her again?"

"No! No, Maddie. I love you. What you and I have is so different. That was fake. This is real."

"Did you go out with me originally just to rub it in her face?"

"No, Maddie. Fuck," he runs both hands through his hair, holding it back from his face. "I hate that she has gotten into your head. Fern has nothing to do with us. I am with you because I love you. And you love me," he hesitates, and his voice cracks as he continues, "right?"

"Yes, I love you, Harry." I breathe the words, my love fogging against the cold night air. "I will always love you."

He breathes out, more fog in the night, and wraps his arms around my shoulders. "You are the only one I want. For the rest of my life." My heart pounds. Oh, Harry. Same. Same. We kiss on the sidewalk in the frosty air. But my heart is frosty too, circled once again by a low wall of ice, shielding me from the outside world. I don't want it there, but my insecurity and insanity work together to lay brick after brick. I wish I were strong enough to tear it back down myself.

I finish their video the next day and show it to them in the soundstage's small screening room. They all love it, and I am treated to a round of kisses from each of the guys. On the cheek, of course. I email a link to the Dropbox to Liam and he uploads it to their youtube channel.

As we are packing for our flight home later, my phone starts blowing up with notifications. Tweets about the video. But my name isn't anywhere on that video. Is it just because people know we're dating now? I click on one that includes a link. It goes to my youtube, not the band's. And there is the video. Their video. My video? What the fuck?

It already has over a million views. In half a day.

"Harry, did you post the video to my youtube?" I click the details to see when it was loaded. About an hour after I sent the link to Liam. Brick, mortar, brick.

"No," he frowns, walking over to me. "How would I do that? I don't have your youtube account."

"I don't know, but somebody did. It's getting a lot of views."

"Really?" He's excited. I'm confused. His phone rings. "Yeah, she just showed me. No, she says she didn't. Did you? I don't know." He laughs. "I know. It's crazy." He leans closer to my computer screen. "Yeah, I'll talk to you later. Liam doesn't know what happened either," he puts his hand on my back. "You can take it down, if you don't want to have it there."

Ice. Brick, mortar, brick. Ice.

"No, I don't care about that. I just don't understand how it got there."

"Me neither," he kisses my hair. "We'd better hurry up. We don't have much time before our flight."

Gemma drives us to the airport and hugs us both for a long time. "I'll let you know soon when I can come," she rubs my back. I nod. Ice. And we head into our first class lounge, and then our first class flight. Brick. And by the time we land in Los Angeles, the fucking video has more than 10 million views. Ice. And if you count both accounts, it's closer to 15. Brick.

I feel like it shouldn't bother me. I was trying not to let worry or anxiety take away from my joy. But, it does bother me. I want Harry to be successful. Hell, I would do anything I could to help him. But I didn't post that video. And he says he didn't either. That concerns me. Who the fuck got into my account? It has to be one of the guys. Who else would put their video on my youtube? I just don't know what to fucking think.

Brick, mortar, brick. My wall is nearly all the way back up.

(A/N: who do you think posted the vid? please vote and comment. ILY)