(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 26 - No Way Out And A Long Way Down)

"What happened in New York," I begin nervously, "it wasn't as straight forward as you think. I wasn't myself that night. So much stuff had been going on in my life, and I just wanted a break from it." 

I pause and look into her eyes, and she is looking back at me with that trace of innocence that never fails to make my stomach flutter. It is sweet and sour; sweet because she put her trust and faith in me, sour because I abused that trust and hurt her. I wonder if I will ever forgive myself.

"Before I explain everything, I just want you to know I don't expect this to change anything with us," I add, eager to reassure her that I have no ulterior motive here. "I know what I did was inexcusable, and I'm not trying to weasel out of it. I was a dıck, and I messed up, worse than you know. But I'll tell you, because I owe you the truth at the very least. I'm just sorry it's taken me this long to man up and speak to you. Please believe me when I tell you I am so, so sorry for what I did. And I won't blame you if you hate me even more, OK?"

A flash of apprehension crosses her face but she doesn't answer or try to interrupt me; instead she just stares at me silently. Heart pounding, I start at the very beginning.

"I found out Louis had got Briana pregnant just before you arrived at the Cardiff show. He'd known for a while, and had told Modest, but they'd made him wait to tell us. He dropped the bombshell backstage and I..." I falter. "I didn't take it well."

Understatement of the year. I'm supposed to be telling the full truth.

"I was a fucking dıck to him," I admit. "He was shit scared about telling us, and I just went for him. Not physically - I mean verbally," I explain, in case she gets the wrong idea. "I didn't hold back. He'd taken me by surprise, and it was everything I was scared of suddenly manifesting itself right in front of me. I didn't know how to deal with it. I shouted at him, made him feel like shit, and we had a blazing row."

Didn't you use a fuckıng condom? You stupid fucking twaț.

Is that what you think - that I want to be the lead singer? You're even more stupid than I thought. Although you wouldn't exactly be in the running for that job, would you?

I feel sick just thinking about the things I said to him.

"The others tried to intervene but I wouldn't listen," I say, shamefully. "I said some really hateful things. Things I should never have said. But I was spurred on by - " I stop dead, as my stomach churns again. I knew this was going to be hard, but to say this stuff out loud, especially after the way she has treated me with such disdain since I arrived, feels like I am laying myself wide open to attack and ridicule. I swallow my pride and carry on in a rush. 

"I was spurred on by my resentment of him for the way he flirted with you. I was jealous of him. I have been since day one; far more than you know. I used that as an excuse to yell at him, and I let all my feelings out. I was horrible, and I wish I could take it back, even now."

I glance up at Jess, to see that she is staring at me with her mouth open. I guess she didn't think that even I would stoop so low as to kick a friend when he was down. Turns out I'm capable of a lot worse than we both thought.

"Harry," she says, in a surprisingly gentle tone. "I never had feelings for Louis in the same way I did for you. I had a stupid Directioner crush. It was a fangirl thing. I was never in love with him."

"You still kissed him," I remind her. "And if he'd kissed you back, who knows where it would have led that night?"

I don't know why I just said that. I'm determined to self-destruct.

"OK, I won't deny that," she sighs. "And I'm not excusing what I did, because I never should have made a move on your friend."

True.

"I crossed a line there, and I know that," she adds. "But I can only profess that I was drunk and miserable, I wasn't thinking straight, and no matter what may or may not have happened if Louis hadn't pushed me away, it was still an action based on impulse rather than any deep feeling. I loved you, Harry. Not Louis. I know I flirted with him but it honestly didn't mean anything. I swear."

Loved.

Loved.

Past tense.

Fuck.

"I know," I acknowledge, choosing to ignore the full meaning behind what she has just let slip, along with the dull ache creeping into my chest. "I know it didn't. And I know Louis didn't instigate the kiss, and didn't encourage you." 

She nods, and I can't resist calling her out, and letting her know that I know everything.

"I also know you both admitted you would though," I add, and immediately her face flushes bright red and she starts stuttering an attempt at a denial.

"It's alright," I grin, enjoying watching her squirm. "He told me in context. Another time, another place, another life. I get it. I've known for ages that Louis thought you were hot. And I could tell you felt the same."

"Harry," she says, and I can tell she is about to reassure me further but this is unnecessary. I am finally at peace with it all.

"It's fine," I insist, smiling softly at her. "I'm over it. Honestly. Anyway - " I clear my throat, trying to remember where we were. Oh yes, the Cardiff show. "You were right when you said you had picked up on some tension between me and Louis. It was horrendous. I was so stressed about the whole situation with the baby, but I kept it hidden around you because I was ashamed at how I behaved towards him. My stomach was in knots about it, but in this industry you're conditioned to keep going, keep functioning, because the show must go on. I knew I had been unreasonable, and I thought if I told you what had happened you would take his side. I wish I'd talked to you about it before I left for Vienna," I sigh. "If I had, it would have alleviated some of the stress I was under, and I would have been in a better place when I went to New York. And then maybe what happened there.... wouldn't have happened."

She looks at me sadly; wistfully.

"I wouldn't have taken Louis' side over you, no matter what you'd said to him," she says, shaking her head. "I would have been there for you. I knew something was up between the two of you."

"I know you did," I say, quietly. "There's so much I wish I could go back and change."

I stare down at my feet, gathering my thoughts and fighting the emotion rising in me at her words. If only I'd had more faith in her, in us, this whole fiasco could potentially have been avoided. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I take a deep breath and continue.

"Nadine had texted me a few times. I never initiated the conversations - she always texted me first. It was friendly at first, just saying hi and stuff, and then she started getting a bit flirty, and reminiscing about when we were together. I shouldn't have texted her back really, but you have to believe me when I tell you it meant nothing to me."

I look up at her earnestly. I need her to believe my motives were nothing but genuine.

"I wasn't trying to lead her on, but I did have sort of... I dunno, unfinished business I suppose you could call it, with her. She broke my heart - or at least I thought at the time she did. I was devastated when she broke it off. She dumped me, not the other way around. She didn't trust me."

Should I tell her about Nadine's rejection? 

Yes - I need to be honest. No more secrets.

" I ..." 

Fuck, this is embarrassing. I'm going to sound pathetic. 

I look away, unable to maintain eye contact while I share this moment with her.

"God, this is so embarrassing," I mutter. "I told her I loved her, and she didn't say it back. I thought I was in love with her, but I realise now it wasn't love."

"Seems to be a bit of a repeating pattern," she remarks dryly.

"Anyway," I continue, eager to get this over with, "when she asked to meet up with me, after I told her I would be in New York for the night with Jeff, I sort of wanted closure. I didn't harbour any feelings towards her, and I told her that before I went. But she insisted she still wanted to see me. She'd been through a tough time lately - one of her friends had been battling anorexia, and it had been emotionally draining for her. She said she needed to see a friendly face, so I agreed."

"Why didn't you tell me, if it was all so innocent?" Jess asks, and I press my lips together, ashamed.

"I thought you'd get the wrong idea," I confess. "I knew you had trust issues with me. You'd believed me so many times before, and had to put your faith in me over and over again. I just didn't want to have that argument with you again. It made me annoyed to think in my head that you wouldn't trust me over this, so I chose not to tell you. And if it had been the other way around, I wouldn't have liked it either. I knew in my heart it was completely innocent, but I didn't know how to make sure you believed me."

I look up at her again. "I mean, be honest - you wouldn't have liked it, would you?"

She considers this.

"No, probably not. But if you had been honest with me all along, that Nadine had been in touch with you, and told me you needed the closure for your own sake, maybe I would have been OK with it," she suggests.

Oh come on.

"Would you? Really?" I emphasise. 

I don't think she would have been OK with it. I think it would have caused an almighty row, and maybe we would have broken up anyway. (I'm not justifying my lie, for the record.)

"Well I guess we'll never know," she sighs, and I'll accept that. This whole sorry mess is full of what ifs and maybes.

"I went for lunch with her at a hotel in New York," I continue. "She was on some fashion shoot there anyway. I knew as soon as we sat down it was a bad idea. She was flirting with me, and talking about our relationship, and before long she was saying she missed me and she wanted to get back together."

That's just it though - I haven't moved on. I think you about you all the time. I'd really like another chance - I'd like to try and make things work with us.

I feel embarrassed just from the memory of that conversation. It was horrendous.

"I told her it wasn't going to happen, and then she got upset. She started crying. She said she should never have let me go, and she thought she was in love with me."

I don't want to be just friends. I - I think I'm in love with you, Harry.

"I told her I didn't feel the same, and that I had moved on, and she got even more upset. She was saying mean things about you; about our relationship. I had to be really firm with her, and that just made her worse. It got really awkward, so we went up to her room so she could calm down."

"Oh God, Harry," Jess wails, and I realise too late that she has got the wrong end of the stick.

"No - Jess - nothing happened, I swear!" I assure her hastily. As if she could think I would sleep with Nadine! "She was all upset so I gave her a hug, and then I think she may have been about to try and kiss me, but I turned away and she pulled herself together. That's it, I promise."

I stare into her eyes again and I can see the beginnings of tears forming. Instinctively I start to reach for her, but then I remember she isn't mine, and I don't have permission to touch her. Its probably a good thing - if I held her in my arms I don't think I would be able to let her go.

I push these thoughts away and quickly carry on.

"After that she calmed down, and she was really embarrassed. She begged me not to say anything about it to anyone, so I said I wouldn't. We managed to have sort of a normal conversation after that. I told her I was going out with Jeff that night and would be flying to Brussels the next day, and she asked me where we were planning on going, so I told her." 

I grit my teeth as a wave of anger crashes over me; anger at my own naivety, at her manipulation, at the turn of events that ensued due to my own stupidity.

"I wish to fucking God I hadn't," I add bitterly, "because none of this would have happened, but..." 

I stop myself again. I'm racing ahead, when I need to tell the whole story in the right order, so she understands everything. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying not to feel sick.

"You said you told Nadine you were in love with me," Jess says suddenly, and I look back at her again.

"Yeah, I did," I nod. "That's why she got so upset. She started saying I couldn't possibly be in love with you, because you weren't anything like me. She said you would never understand me the way she did, because you didn't have any experience of the celebrity world."

I don't need to belittle your relationship. I told you already, it won't last. You need someone to keep you on your toes, someone who can play the game. Someone who is used to using the media to their advantage like you do. Someone who looks damn hot on your arm and can raise your profile in the US like you want. You're Harry Styles from One Direction. You'll never be just Harry ever again.

"I told her she was wrong."

I'm trying to stay calm, but reliving this is making my blood boil.

"I told her you understood me far better than she ever did, and she didn't like that. I shouldn't have said it. I shouldn't have kicked her while she was down but she was belittling us, and what we had, and I was pissed off with her."

You're wrong. I'll always be just Harry. And the people that can see just Harry are the people I keep close to me. That's why Jess is by my side, not you.

"I should have just kept my fucķing mouth shut," I say miserably. 

This is all my own fault. I rose to her jibes. I provoked her. If I had just been the bigger person and walked away, none of this would have happened.

"Why?" she asks, after a moment, but I don't answer. I can't repeat all the things Nadine said to me, about the way I have changed and the person I have become, because part of me is secretly afraid that some of them are true. I know I said I would be completely honest, and I'm trying really hard, but if Jess tells me Nadine was right all along about me I think I might just fall apart.

I continue with the facts, burying my fears once again.

"I went back to my hotel and got showered and changed, and went to meet Jeff -" I start, but she interrupts me.

"Wait - so when you texted me earlier that day to say you were going for lunch with Jeff, you were really going with Nadine?" she says in disbelief.

Fuck. I'd momentarily forgotten that lie.

"Yeah," I mumble as I recall my feelings at the time. "I'm so sorry I lied. When I called you afterwards I wanted to tell you what had just happened, but that would have meant admitting I'd lied to you repeatedly, and I didn't want to do that over the phone because I knew you'd be angry, and you would have had every right to be. I felt like shit about it." I swallow again, and she doesn't interrupt me. "I needed you, but I couldn't talk to you without telling you everything. I'd backed myself into a corner. I couldn't see a way out." 

I can hear it in your voice. You sound.... stressed. And a bit... sad.  

"I felt even worse when you knew, instantly, that something was wrong," I confess, miserably. "You described exactly how I was feeling, just from the tone of my voice and I felt so fucķing guilty that I'd lied to you. I felt sick."

I feel sick now, remembering the conversation on the phone on my way back to the hotel.

"I just wanted to come home and tell you everything, but I was scared how you would react. I was scared you wouldn't trust me again, and I'd been through all of that when I was with Nadine. She never trusted me. None of my girlfriends have ever trusted me, and you can't even begin to imagine what that's like. When you know in your heart you would never be unfaithful, but no one believes you..."

My voice breaks, and I snap my mouth shut and press my lips together, looking down at the carpet to hide my face. I don't want to cry in front of her, but going over all of this is resurfacing emotions I have kept buried for weeks. I didn't think it would be this hard to tell her. I didn't think I would ache so desperately for her but now she is in front of me, so near and yet so far, all I can feel is pain and longing that only she can cure.

In an instant she is standing in front of me and I reach my arms forward, still staring down at the carpet, and pull her towards me so that she is standing between my legs, my arms wrapped around her and my face pressed into her stomach.

She smells the same: sweet, soft and familiar. Like home.

Her arms slip around my shoulders and I squeeze her tighter and allow myself to pretend, just for a moment, that I never let her go.