(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 27 - Said The Night Was Over)

It takes every resolve I have to pull away from her, when all I want to do is seek comfort in her arms. But I know I'm pushing my luck, and I have to remember the bigger picture here. She needs to know the full story. 

"Sorry," I mutter, letting go of her and sitting back in my chair to give her some space. 

"It's OK," she says, and she stands in front of me awkwardly, like she doesn't know what to do with herself now I have let her go. If only that were the truth.

Eventually she sits back down on the bed and surveys me with uncertainty. I take a deep breath, picking up where I left off.

"So... I went to meet Jeff and all his friends at the bar, and we started drinking. It was still pretty early, but after everything that had happened I just wanted to blot it all out. Louis, the baby, the band... There was no way Louis would be able to continue with One Direction while he was trying to be a dad. No one had said it out loud, but we all knew we wouldn't be able to tour the next album, and that we would have to put everything on hold for a while, at least until he adjusted."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she interrupts gently, and the concern in her voice raises goosebumps on my arms. "I knew how worried you were about the band's popularity without Zayn. Why didn't you tell me about Louis' baby, and the impact it was going to have? I mean, obviously I couldn't have done anything about it, but you could have talked to me. I would have listened to you, and supported you. You wouldn't have had to deal with it alone."

"I know," I mumble, biting my lip and looking away. "I don't know why I didn't tell you. After the row with Louis I suppose I just wanted to forget it all and stick my head in the sand. Talking about it all made it seem real, and I wasn't ready to face it, or to deal with it yet. I just wanted to pretend it wasn't happening. It's another one of my regrets."  

One of the many. I could write a book. I mean, I already wrote a song, or three. And hearing her confirm that she would have stuck by me and supported me, like deep down I knew she would, just makes the hurt harder to bear.

Focus.

"Anyway, all that, coupled with the lies I'd told you and the row I'd just had with Nadine... I was stressed and upset," I continue. "So we were all knocking the drinks back pretty fast. I'm not a huge fan of beer so I was on the spirits, and I hadn't had any dinner... I got drunk really quickly. I can't really remember timescales, but at some point during the night I looked up towards the door and saw Nadine walking in with some friends."

My stomach turns over as I say her name out loud, but I keep my face impassive. 

"My heart sank. It couldn't have been a coincidence that she was there, because I'd told her where we would be. She sort of caught my eye as she walked in and gave me this little smile, and I knew immediately she was here to see me. I recognised some of her friends as they followed her in, and one of them...."

I stop and look up at Jess. I feel disloyal at the thought of throwing Sara's name into the conversation without some sort of prior warning. She closes her eyes and nods reluctantly, and I take this as confirmation that she is prepared for Sara to enter the story.

"...one of them was Sara," I finish. "They came over to say hi - Nadine and Sara. I already knew Sara anyway, from various functions I'd attended in the US, so we sort of said hi, how are you, et cetera. I was trying to talk to Jeff and his friends, but Nadine kept trying to get my attention, and she was starting to get on my nerves a bit. She kept reaching over to me, touching my hand, touching my arm, touching my leg."

When are you next in New York...? Your hair is getting so long... It suits you, though. I don't think anyone else could pull it off like you....

"She was obviously flirting with me and it was making me uncomfortable, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings. But I think Sara got onto it, so when I got up to go to the bathroom I think she convinced Nadine to leave us alone, and by the time I came back they were sitting in a booth with their friends."

I look into Jess's face. She watching me intently, taking in every word I am saying. I feel sick again at the thought of what is coming up, at the idea of telling her about taking drugs. I'm scared she's going to kick me out the second I tell her, and I can't let her do that until I have explained everything. I'm dreading her reaction, her disappointment in me. 

My palms are sweating. I wipe them on my jeans before continuing.

"I think that's when I called you," I tell her, and as the words leave my mouth I remember that longing I felt in New York; that desire to hear her voice because I knew that just the sound of it would make everything alright. "I remember feeling relieved that Nadine had finally left us alone, and I just wanted to hear your voice. I missed you so much. I just... I just wanted you."

She reaches forward and gently touches my hand, but I snatch it away.

"Don't," I say, forcefully, swallowing my emotion. "Don't feel sorry for me. I don't deserve it."

She pulls her hand back, blinking in surprise, and looks hurt and confused.

"Sorry," I mutter quickly. "I just... you'll understand why in a minute. I'm sorry..." 

Here I go again, being an arse. It's obviously just who I am.

That thought doesn't fill me with joy.

"I was snappy with you on the phone," I recall, regretfully. 

Don't start giving me hassle. What's with all the questions? Interrogating me about Nadine - I don't need that. 

"I'm sorry about that," I apologise. "I was on the defensive because I knew I should have told you about Nadine sooner, but it slipped out because I was drunk. I hadn't planned to tell you then, and I just started being an arse because... well, because I'm an idiot."

This seems to be the story of my life. When did I turn into such a prat?

"And you didn't even yell at me like I thought you would - and that made me feel even worse, that you didn't start an argument or make me feel bad, even though I knew you would be secretly upset about it."

"Of course I was upset," she says, leaning forward and looking into my eyes. "I couldn't get back to sleep after you called because I felt sick at the thought of you drunk in a bar with her." 

She is talking about Nadine. 

"I couldn't understand why you'd met up with her without telling me," she explains, "and that made me suspicious. I didn't know why your relationship had ended; we'd never had that conversation. But the last thing I wanted to do was argue about it while you were still there, because that would just have pushed you towards her, especially if the temptation was already there."

This is almost laughable if it weren't so heartbreaking. The idea that she could think I could have had feelings for anyone else other than her devastates me. I never would have looked twice at anyone else under normal circumstances. This is so fucked up.

"Of course it wasn't there," I sigh. "My feelings for Nadine were over pretty much as soon as I met you. She could never have compared to you. No one could."

"Then how the hell did you end up in bed with someone else?" she demands, her voice rising and wrought with emotion that seems to have come from nowhere.

"Please don't cry," I beg. "I'm so sorry."

She turns away from me and I hear her taking a couple of deep breaths. I fight the urge to comfort her, knowing she will push me away if I try. It breaks my heart seeing her like this.

"I'm fine," she says after a moment, turning back to me with red eyes. "Carry on."

I pause for a second to study her face and she gives me a nod of encouragement. I carry on.

"Jeff was partying hard. He wanted to have one more shot before we left, so I agreed, and we did. Some of his mates were off their faces, and they were snorting all sorts."

I half expect her to react to this, to question me about what I mean, but she says nothing. 

"After the last shot I wanted to go back to the hotel but Jeff was wired, and was trying to convince me to come to one more bar. I had been keeping an eye on the girls' booth for a bit, and I kept catching Sara's eye every time I looked over. It got a bit awkward after a while, and we sort of laughed about it across the room. I didn't mean it to look like I was flirting with her, but I think she got the wrong idea. I think she thought I was making eyes at her or something."

I didn't mean to encourage her. I didn't realise she liked me until... well, you already know what happened.

"I wasn't, Jess, I swear," I plead. "Honestly, I was just keeping tabs on Nadine. But then a couple of minutes later it looked like Nadine and Sara were arguing, and then the whole group got up and left. Nadine looked like she was crying, but I kept my head down as they walked out because I didn't want to get involved. I felt like shit, though, because I was pretty sure she was upset because of me."

My stomach flutters again, as I am nearing the crux of the story.

"I told Jeff I was leaving, but he didn't want me to. I said I was tired, and I wanted to get some sleep because the time difference was wearing me out."

I think I'll call it a night. I'm fucking shattered. I think the jet lag is catching up with me. I can hardly remember what time zone I'm in. What time zone am I in?  

"He wasn't listening to me, and he was saying I could just sleep on the plane to Brussels. But I was fed up and just wanted to be on my own."

I've got a show in just over forty-eight hours for about fifty thousand people! I can't wear myself out! I have to be on top form! I can't let the fans down!  

"We sort of snapped at each other, so I went to the bathroom again to get away from it. When I came back he apologised, and asked me to come for one drink at the next bar, and then we'd all call it a night. I was undecided, because I really just wanted to go back to the hotel, but I didn't want to be a killjoy."

I feel sick. I can't put it off any longer. 

My skin breaks out in a sweat.

"And then," I begin, but the words somehow get stuck in my throat.

"What, Harry?" she asks gently. 

I don't know how to say it. I don't know how to tell her. She's going to be disgusted with me, and I don't think I can look into her eyes and watch her reaction when I tell her what I did.

"Harry?" she says, even more softly. 

My blood is pounding in my ears. I rub my face and take a deep breath.

"And then Jeff said I needed a pick-me-up," I hear myself say thickly. "He said I just needed something to get me through the next hour until we went back to the hotel to crash."

She meets my gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between us.

"He said his friend had some good stuff that would keep me going," I say in a rush. "He said it had kept him going for the last couple of hours. It was Amphetamine - Speed. They'd been on it most of the night, that's why they were all buzzing. So he offered me some."

She knows I took it. She just needs me to confirm it. She needs to hear me say it out loud, in my own words, so there can be no uncertainty anymore. And although I don't want to, somehow I know I will feel better when I do. Because where have uncertainty and ambiguity and lies got us? Here, with a gulf of emotion and hurt between us, broken beyond repair, drowning without hope of salvation.

"And?" she prompts in a whisper, clearly horrified.

I can't bring myself to look her in the eye.

"And... and I took it."

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I hope you're enjoying this from Harry's point of view! I'm loving being inside his head, as you can probably tell by the daily updates! Thanks for reading, and please give this chapter a vote if you liked it! Just tap the yellow star :) xxx