Amsterdam

"Are you sure he said Lydia?"

"Yes, Harry." I repeat for what seems like the millionth time.

"Ok. Right." He exhales heavily, throwing his head back against the headboard. "Christ. Sorry. I just don't even know how to start dealing with this..."

"What did Joe say?"

"He wants us all to confront Lydia. Tomorrow morning, when she has her morning meeting with Monica. Joe's going to do some research tonight, see if he can find anything out."

"Is there anything I could be doing?"

"Just relax, Lennon." Harry sighs softly, threading his fingers through mine. "His lip twitches unhappily as he closes his eyes and throws his head back again. He swallows softly and his adams apple bobs.

"Maybe I should phone Glen?" I say for the millionth time. Part of me is bursting with relief that it wasn't him, that his stupid, idiotic explanation was actually true, but the other part wouldn't even being to know what to say to him or how to ask him to forgive me.

I can't believe that I ever doubted him and it's just a mark of how much has changed in recent times that I did. Not for the first time, I reflect that with this lifestyle it's almost impossible to stay the same and not get swept up in the whirlwind.

Harry sighs again, louder. There's something wrong and I don't quite know what it is. Something other than just his manager being a psychotic crazy bitch, that is.

He pulls me against his bare chest, kicking the covers away to reveal his tiny, snug white boxers, which look extremely attractive against his lean, tanned body.

"What are you thinking?" He murmers quietly, against my hair, as he pulls me into being little spoon.

"Just how attractive those tighty-whiteys are." I whisper in what I hope is a sultry voice.

"Tighty-whiteys?!" He snorts against my hair.

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant." He giggles, locking his arms around me so that I can't get up. "I love it when you talk dirty, baby. Keep going-"

"Shut up, Harry." I huff, pulling a cushion over my face. His arms are still locked tightly around me and he chuckles softly into my neck. His Spotify is playing in the background and the upbeat sound of Elton John fills the room. We're facing the long patio windows and the last rays of golden sunshine creep across the bed towards our entwined legs. Harry is breathing softly against my back, his heart beating a steady rhythm with my own. There is nothing else in the world but me and him and this little room.

And if I could freeze everything, freeze it right now forever, then it would be perfect. I could happily live in this moment for eternity.

Elton takes us through his back catalogue of hits from the early 70s to the 90s before the playlist swings in a different direction and Marvin Gaye starts singing that he heard it through the grapevine.

I am still a bit sore from last night... Down there feels like I've been tied to a rodeo bull that was trying to shake me off for 12 hours... But Harry's half naked body is pressed against mine and his breath is soft on my hair, so what's a girl to do?

I am far too awkward to dare assume that the half naked man who spent all of last night grunting in my ear and bending me like a pipe cleaner might want to actually have sex with me again, so I go for the classic yawn-stretch, pushing my bum into his groin.

Harry doesn't react. I'm not sure what to do next, so I stay with my bum stuck out at an awkward twerking angle and move it slightly, as though I usually rotate my arse hopefully when I stretch.

"What are you doing, Lennon?" He whispers.

"Nothing."

"Hm." He laughs throatily and suddenly his mouth is on my neck, sucking harshly just below my ear as his hands slip down to my thighs, squeezing hard on my bum on the way. His long fingers sweep up my inner thighs as his lips break away and he laughs softly in my ear; "see, I would swear that you were trying to get me to do something like this..." His hand pushes suddenly into my knickers and he gently begins to circle my clit. "Is that right?"

"Erm..." I squawk. "... Something like that..."

He laughs and pulls me back, rolling me over and pinning me to the bed so that I'm between his lean, muscled arms as his looks down at me. The rock-hard bulge presses demandingly against me. He circles his hips, grinding deeply into me so that the thin fabric separating us quickly grows damp. A smile is playing on the edge of his lips.

And slowly, softly, in the dying evening light, he lowers his head and presses his soft lips to mine.

***

Operation Take Down Lydia in progress...

• Black dress that screams business (with small egg stain on boobie area from breakfast). Check.

• Badass black stilleto heels (also, flat plimsolls as can't actually walk in heels, just need them in meeting to make impression). Check.

• Perfect make up with killer eyeliner flicks. Erm... Sort of check.

• Calm composure, ready to take on Lydia and Monica-

Actually bollocks to the list.

My palms are so sweaty that my phone keeps slipping through my fingers like it's covered in grease. My forehead looks so oily that I'm sure the government is going to start fracking on it at any moment. I put my bronzer on in the dimly lit bathroom, so I now resemble Donald Trumps long lost twin sister. My foundation has clumped together on my upper lip in a way that really highlights my little mustache there.

Oh, and my eyeliner looks as though I had a seizure halfway through putting it on.

Round two of sex with Harry may have been a mistake- seeing as I'm now walking like I'm carrying the Mariana trench between my legs.

So altogether, I'm not entirely sure that I'm ready to take down anyone, much less someone as bitchy as Monica or intimidating as Lydia.

I wonder if 7:30 am is too early for a large vodka?

The knock on my door is unsteady and once opened, Harry and Joe look almost as nervous as I feel. Harry pushes his hand into mind as Joe turns away and because my palms are so sweaty, when Harry squeezes my hand tightly a wet farty noise escapes.

Joe spins around and Harry whips his hand away from mine and apologises, muttering something about his breakfast giving him gas.

Harry doesn't attempt to grab my hand again, instead he places his hand on my lower back. This presents its own set of problems as sweat is pouring down my back like Niagara falls, but if Harry notices, he doesn't move his hand.

Either that or its stuck there.

I had envisioned us bursting into the room like Charlie's Angels, hitting Lydia with facts and accusations, but in reality, after knocking and being called in, we shuffle in, none of us making eye contact.

"To what do I owe the early morning pleasure?" Lydia asks, half snappy, half genuinely surprised.

I glance up to see that she's half stood behind her desk, frowning over at us. Beside her, looking irritatingly beautiful and glamorous for the time of morning, is Monica, whose eyes are fixed on me. They are on the same side of the desk and they've obviously been poring over some paperwork together.

"The games up, Lydia."

I think Joe intended to sound firm, maybe a bit like a cool detective in an American cop show, but it came out a bit more lame kids TV show host.

"What on earth are you prattling on about?" She snaps. "Monica and I are going over the arrangements for Indonesia-"

"We know about the videos." Joe sighs, softly. He looks tired, so weary and fed up as he steps forward and drags a chair around to face them. He gestures for me and Harry to do the same.

"Which videos?" Lydia says coolly. She eyes are narrowed as she appraises us. She doesn't seem worried in slightest and for a horrible moment, I think I've got the whole thing wrong. Monica is still watching me, a catlike smirk playing on the side of her mouth.

"The video of Harry and Lennon on the island. The video you sold of Ty. The one that you got him fired for." Joe says, placing a little stack of papers on the desk in front of him. "I can't believe you'd be such an idiot, Lydia... Losing Ty has upset the whole tour. Why would you target him?.

Lydia looks like someone has just shoved a lemon in her mouth. She falters before suddenly inflating with confidence and opening her mouth to speak. Joe won't give her chance though.

"There's simply no point denying it. Blue Steam Media is a 'company' that specialises in scandalous videos of celebrities- usually sex tapes from bitter exes. The celebrity will usually pay an extortionate amount to bury the video, so I use the word company very lightly. It's more like a blackmailing enterprise. I bet he couldn't believe it when you phoned offering him private access to Harry Styles innermost circle. What I want to know though, is who filmed the video at the Victoria's secret party?"

Lydia doesn't answer. Monica is still watching me, her green eyes flicking between myself and Harry slowly.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. "Joe goes on. "It was dark. The tables were long. Lennon's poor friend wouldn't have a clue who anyone was, or if the person sat next to him slyly filming was part of the crew or not. But why Ty? That's what's been bugging me since last night. Lennon is your obvious target. You hate her, always have. You're furious that Harry choose her over Monica, it's hardly a secret... So why poor Ty?"

"Because going after Lennon would be too obvious." Harry says quietly, watching Lydia. "In fact I wouldn't be surprised if you had your own team entirely that you wanted to bring in."

"She's not qualified." Lydia says tightly. It's the first thing she's said and there's a brief silence following. She clears her throat and rearranges the papers on her desk, bringing herself under composure. "I assume you have proof of your accusations?"

"It's all in here." Joe tosses a folder towards her. It lands messily and she picks the front cover carefully, as though it's dirty. Her eyes scan the first page and she nods stiffly before letting the cover drop.

"So where do we go from here?" She asks briskly. If it were anyone else but Lydia, I would be astounded at her nerve.

"Your contract will have to be terminated with immediate effect." Joe says grimly.

"I see." Lydia looks vaguely amused and a pit in my stomach seems to open up. "Obviously, there's no suggestion of Monica being involved."

"Not directly, no." Joe concedes.

An odd sort of silence settles in the room. Lydia's reaction has unnerved everyone. She hasn't exploded in rage or lashed out.

"I suppose there's nothing for me to do but pack my bags and leave." She says, examining her nails.

"Well, er. Yes." Joe coughs, confused.

"Fine." Lydia sighs. "I did sell the videos. I was trying to get rid of Lennon. Ty was unfortunate collateral, but it was rather obvious that Ms Lovelace was going nowhere. The next best job for Monica was Ty's, so I had to get rid of him to get poor Monica on the tour." She's sounds almost bored and the audacity astounds me.

Monica looks so much like a cat that I wouldn't be surprised if she started cleaning her bum with her tongue.

"Right." Joe says eventually. None of us are quite sure what to say. This has been easier than expected.

"So, I'll just pack up." Lydia grins, displaying several billion teeth.

"Ok...?" Joe raises a puzzled eyebrow to Harry.

"Perhaps Miss Lovelace and I can book the same flight back to London?" Lydia suggests lightly.

Monica's smile grows as she leans forwards to open a drawer and pull an iPad out. The three of us stare at Lydia in bewilderment.

"Erm, why would Lennon be going back to London?" Harry asks uncertainly.

"The difference between me and you..." Lydia smiles, with relish, as though she's been waiting to reveal her hand, "is that I can sit on my knowledge. I don't run to your room first thing on a morning to tell you everything I know. I can wait and wait and wait and wait until the right time to reveal it..."

She looks round and I'm reminded of a scooby doo villain who has been dying to reveal their dastardly plans.

"Joe." She glances at him, tossing his tatty folder across the table. "What is section two, part one of Lennon's contract?"

Joe thinks for a second before speaking slowly; "The PA is not allowed any sort of intimate relationship with their employer whilst actively working for them-"

"And what would be the repercussions?"

"Well... Immediate dismissal."

"And?" Lydia grins like a big, fat toad about to snatch a fly.

"And a civil court case, theoretically. But it probably wouldn't come to that because the employer would be a willing participant in any relationship..."

Monica turns the iPad towards us to show the video taken by Belle Marie all those months ago, of me and Harry kissing in the pool. It ends abruptly, only to be followed by a grainy image taken in an elevator. It shows me, Harry, Niall and Zayn in a lift. Niall and Zayn exit and Harry immediately pulls me towards him, kissing me passionately before the doors open again and we quickly break apart. A still image of Harry squeezing my bum (a very close image actually that displays every ripple of cellulite). A photo I haven't seen before of us kissing on the island.

The little video rolls on. Joe looks astonished but he manages to collect himself enough to splutter; "Even so, this hardly compares to what you have done-"

"God help me, Joseph," Lydia says, "if I'm leaving this tour tomorrow, this video is going viral, accompanied by a highly emotional interview with Belle Marie telling the public how Miss Lovelace here stole her man. Lennon will be demonised in the press, god knows that there isn't a person alive who has better connections than me to manipulate the gossip columns any way I want too. She will be the most hated woman in the public eye."

"Don't be so ridiculous." How protests faintly. "We'll go public with what you've done, we'll-"

"Don't be absurd." She sneers. "I'm protected by employment laws. You can't publicly reveal the reasons for my dismissal unless you intend to sue me. I can do a lot of damage between then and now... You know, you should always sit on your knowledge until you need it most. That was your main mistake."

All of us stare at her, open mouthed.

"So, what I'm proposing is this." She says sweetly. "Monica and I will carry on working. You will all return to your respective daily tasks. I agree not to arrange any more paps to snoop on Harry- and in return, Harry agrees to date Belle Marie again. In fact, Monica and I were just going over some photo opportunities and interview spreads for the two of them before you so rudely interrupted."

With Harry's future sorted, she leans back in her chair and casts her eyes back down at the papers in front of her. It's obvious that we're all dismissed.

"How did you get the video... In the pool?" I manage to utter, finally.

"I had it almost immediately. Belle brought it to me and I decided to wait until I needed it. The agreement always was that I would bring her back later, reunite her with Harry at some future point for another 'show-mance'."

"But why didn't you just show Joe and get rid of me months ago?" I whisper, suddenly remembering Lydia going through a period of months where she was suspiciously nice to me.

"As I've just said, I don't act until I have too." She snaps. "If I had got you fired straight away, Harry would have made sure that I was next. It's worked out rather well as we all get to keep our jobs... However undeserved they are."

The silence grows again. It seems insane that she's just wrapping up the entire thing as a little slip of no consequence.

Joe looks bewildered, trying to find arguments, even though Lydia will just overwhelm them all in her usual brisk way. Harry is staring at the desk containing details of his future relationship with Belle Marie. He looks shell-shocked. None of us imagined this meeting going anything like this.

Several thoughts swim to the front of my mind;

* Harry's bulging boxers.

* Lydia is basically staying on the tour, despite what she's done, by using me as a pawn. She's manipulated it and planned it so well that her fate is tied entirely to mine.

* Monica is such a smug bitch. She's like Regina George on steroids.

* Poor, poor Glen. He's the most loyal person I've ever had in my life and I just dropped him, just like that.

* My hands are sweating enough to produce several loud hand farts.

* Harry is going to have to go through all of that stupid Belle Marie stuff again. And Monica will be here. And Lydia. And they can all just be open about the video, about how they know about it. They can hint and tease and make my life hell openly now. And there's nothing I can do about it.

*Poor Harry is going to have to be with Belle Marie again. And he'll do it, for me.

The air clears. And I know what I have to do.

"I'll leave the tour."

I push the words out before I can censure them. They seem to echo around the room. No sentence tonight has had the same affect. The words seem to hang, somewhere in the middle of the room as the occupants absorb them.

"No." Harry's denial is first. Immediate. Insistent.

Lydia's eyes narrow, but it's Monica who speaks;

"I know what you're thinking." She utters, with shrill bitterness; "you're thinking that you can just leave the tour and then you and Harry will be allowed to get together. You're thinking Harry can fire us and then you and him can just have a nice normal relationship, but you're wrong. We'll leak the fucking video and set Belle Marie up with the interview and we will FUCKING ruin you!"

I nod slowly. I wasn't thinking as far ahead as Monica gave me credit for. All I was thinking was that I want to go home. I can't face months more under their thumbs, especially if they can lord it over me now. I don't want to put Harry in that sort of position.

I just want to see Glen.

The dark cloud that has been hanging over me for the past few weeks suddenly seems dangerously close to a storm.

"I just want to go home." I say squeezing my eyes shut as a tear leaks from the corner.

The room falls slient again. Silent enough that Harry's next words seem to echo around.

"Don't go, Lennon. Please... Because...."

His quiet whisper fills the air.

"Because... I love you, Lennon. With all my heart."

****

AN-

Sorry, this chapter relied on you remembering lots of things from further back in the story and as usual, I haven't updated in ages. Hope you enjoyed it? 

Last couple of chapters to follow tres soon. Any predictions?  Do you think it's all over for Lennon?

I'm currently back in the UK for a month or two before picking up my backpack and heading off again... Back to Australia next then after that I have no idea! Give me some ideas, where's your favourite place you've ever been?