May 2015

The next two weeks passed in a miserable blur. I refused to answer my phone to Harry or reply to his texts and voicemails. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed obvious he would have had women waiting in the wings for whenever he was feeling horny. I managed to avoid all forms of social media and barely even checked the Daily Mail for fear of seeing an article about Harry or the other members of One Direction.

I was practically a hermit until the first weekend in May when Callie threatened to come to my flat and drag me out by the hair, regardless of what state I was in (she doesn't say things she doesn't mean) so I agreed to meet her and some mutual friends on Saturday night for a couple of drinks.

I pulled on a pair of black skinny jeans and a loose fitting cami that showed off the last of my LA tan, and wore my hair down and wavy. I grabbed my biker jacket and headed onto the tube to meet Callie in The Rose Garden.

I found her standing at the bar with 2 friends and a girl I didn't know. As I weaved my way towards her she waved at me and then grimaced.

"Fucking hell, Jess. Who died?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look miserable as sin."

"Sorry," I muttered.

"You need to forget about Harry bloody Styles," she declared.

"I know," I sighed. "Get me a drink, will you?"

She gave me a one-armed hug. "That's my girl. We'll find you a new bloke by the end of the night."

"Great," I whispered.

James appeared next to Callie. "Hey Jess... woah, what's up with you?"

"Christ, do I look that bad?" I muttered.

"Well you look like someone just told you Christmas is cancelled," James said, raising an eyebrow at Callie.

"Or that Harry Styles has been shagging Taylor Swift," Callie explained.

"Oh, are you still upset about that?" James asked.

I looked away and didn't answer. My gaze fell on three guys at the end of the bar, and one raised his beer bottle at me and began making his way towards me, grinning. It took me a moment to realise who it was.

"Jessie!" Nick Grimshaw exclaimed as he put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze.

"Hi Grimmy," I said as enthusiastically as I could muster, while my heart sank to my soles of my Louboutins.

"Oh. Was it something I said?" he quipped, studying my face.

"Sorry," I apologised. "Just tired and not in the mood tonight."

"Have you spoken to Harry yet?" he asked.

Wow. No beating around the bush.

"No," I said flatly.

"You should, you know. He's pretty cut up."

"I'm sure he'll get over it," I snapped.

Nick raised his eyebrows and said nothing. Callie placed a large cocktail in front of me, along with a bright blue shot.

I nodded my thanks at her and downed the shot, before taking a long drink of the cocktail. "Uh, Jess, take it easy," she said tentatively.

"I'm fine," I said. I could see Nick was watching me and I wanted to tell him to sod off.

"So, are you coming to the Radio 1 Big Weekend in Norwich?" Nick asked me. (The Big Weekend is a 2-day festival where some of the biggest current bands perform and it is all played live on BBC Radio 1. It's a pretty big deal.)

"No, I didn't get tickets," I said.

"Ah shame," he said. "It's gonna be incredible this year. We've got Muse, Ellie Goulding, 5 Seconds Of Summer, Rudimental, the Foo Fighters..."

"...Taylor Swift," I finished for him.

"Err, yeah she'll be there too," Nick said. "It's an amazing line up."

"I'll pass, thanks," I said, aware I was sounding childish but apparently unable to stop myself.

"Look, I don't want to interfere..."

"Then don't," I snapped, picking up my drink and turning away from him.

He grabbed my arm. "I'm sorry," he said.

I sighed and turned back to him. "No, I'm sorry. It's just a bit of a sore subject, y'know?"

He nodded. "Listen, I've got some spare tickets - for the Big Weekend - I was going to offer them to you and a few friends if you want them, I get loads free. Might take your mind off things? One Direction aren't there this year or anything. Might be a good opportunity to broaden your musical horizons?" He grinned at me and winked.

I couldn't help but smile. I didn't have the heart to tell him I hadn't listened to One Direction since I walked out of Harry's life. It was simply too painful. "Can I throw something pointy at Taylor Swift?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he teased. "She's only playing on Sunday anyway. Come on the Saturday instead? Go oonnnnn," he said, as he could see I was considering it.

"Alright," I sighed.

"Well you could sound a bit more enthusiastic!" he laughed.

"Sorry. Thank you!" I smiled. It was hard to be miserable around Grimmy for long.

We stood at the bar chatting for a bit and then Grimmy bought a round of cocktails. Everytime I sensed the conversation possibly shifting towards Harry I quickly changed the subject. I bought the next round and we found a large table outside and sat down.

Callie snapped some pictures of us all (I think she was secretly a little bit star-struck by Grimmy, even though she would never admit it) and I heard my phone pinging with notifications as she tagged me in various posts on Facebook and Twitter. I ignored them, as usual.

Grimmy was glued to his phone for a lot of the evening and disappeared out of sight couple of times with it. I vaguely wondered if he was speaking to Harry, but pushed it to the back of my mind to avoid torturing myself.

About midnight he came and sat down next to me. "Jessieeeee! You drunk yet?" he slurred.

"Yep," I replied, blinking hard to keep him in focus.

"Good. Call Harry."

"What?" I muttered.

"Call the boy. He misses you. And you're punishing him for something he's not done."

"I don't want to call him."

"Why not?"

"Because I knew all along I'd end up hurt and I was right," I said forcefully. "He shagged some slut in the Philippines. I gave him the benefit of the doubt over the girl in Tokyo. And now Taylor fucking Swift is bragging about finally deleting his number because she's bored of banging him because she's got her claws into Calvin fucking Harris."

"Ok, it sounds bad when you put it like that," Grimmy agreed.

"To be perfectly honest, I can't be arsed with it anymore. I've moved on. I'm over him." I waved my hand across the table in a sweeping gesture and knocked over an empty glass. "So do me a favour and tell him to stop calling me, ok?"

Nick shrugged. "Tell him yourself."

"Fine," I said. "Fine, I will." I pulled out my phone, half expecting Grimmy to stop me as I unlocked my screen and scrolled to Harry's number. But he just sat back in his chair, watching me and fiddling absent-mindedly with a beer mat.

I swiped across the screen and put the phone to my ear.

Oh Christ. What on earth was I doing? I hadn't prepared myself for this. I didn't even know what I was going to say when he picked up. If he picked up. I'd ignored him for two weeks; maybe he would give me a taste of my own medicine, I thought hopefully as it rang.

"Jess?" he answered.

No such luck.

"Stop calling me," I blurted.

"I... what?"

"Stop calling me," I said again.

"Wha... you called me!" He sounded confused.

"Yes, to tell you to stop. Calling me."

There was a pause. "Let me get this straight." I could hear the smile in his voice and my heart skipped a beat. "You're calling me to tell me to stop calling you?"

"That's right," I nodded seriously.

"Are you drunk?"

"Ye...no," I said quickly.

"Is Grimmy with you?"

"Ye...no!" I said again, indignantly this time.

He chuckled. "It's great to hear your voice, baby. I miss you."

I swallowed hard. "No. Don't say things like that. I'm not your baby. You need to stop calling and texting me."

He sighed. "I really wasn't hooking up with her, Jess," he said softly. "Not while I was with you. I haven't seen her since before I started going out with Nadine."

"It's none of my business," I mumbled.

"I want it to be," he said. "I want to explain properly, to tell you everything. Please will you hear me out? Five minutes is all I'm asking for."

"Where are you?" I asked, staring at the beer mat in Grimmy's hand.

"I'm at home, why?"

"Where at home?"

"I'm sitting in the kitchen."

"What's the weather like?"

"Ummm... sunny? Why are you asking?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Shorts and a tshirt." Harry took a deep breath. "Taylor texted me at the end of February, after I'd split up with Nadine. She wanted to hook up again, and asked me if I was going to LA during the break from our tour at the beginning of March. I fobbed her off, because I was cut up about Nadine."

I closed my eyes. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"

"It's in a mun. She texted me again while I was at my mum's, after I'd met you, and asked me when I would next be in LA. I told her I wouldn't be back until after this leg of the tour, and we left it at that. When the stories started getting printed about me and you she texted me again asking if I was seeing you. I didn't reply, and we haven't been in touch since."

"What are you doing today?"

"I've been to the gym. The last time I saw her was some time last October or November, before I met Nadine. I can't remember exactly. We hooked up a couple of times while we were both in LA, and as usual we kept it under wraps."

"What did you do at the gym?" I asked, watching Grimmy twirl the beer mat in his fingers.

"Lifted some weights. I heard on the grapevine Taylor is now seeing Calvin Harris but I don't know if that's truth or speculation because I haven't spoken to her since March. I don't have any plans to see her or speak to her. I'm sure I'll bump into her again at some point in my life, but given the industry we're in I don't see how that can be avoided. Jess are you listening to me?"

"I'm listening," I whispered.

"I don't know exactly what you thought you heard when Liam and Louis were here, but all I can remember is them asking me about us, me and you, and I told them it was going really great. They were talking about Taylor and Calvin but they seemed to know more than me. Louis made some comment about me hooking up with Taylor in the future and I shook my head, because I'm not going there again. When that dickhead pap blurted out in the airport about Taylor deleting my number it was the first I'd heard of it. I was more shocked that he even knew about the hook ups. Then when I realised I'd have to tell you about it there and then I felt sick because I knew it was going to look really bad on me, and I didn't want you thinking badly of me. Not after we'd had such a great week. I would have told you about it eventually, but it would have been when it came up in conversation. We haven't talked about exes or anything yet, have we? It's not the sort of thing you just come out with, like 'hey, what shall we have for dinner? By the way, I used to hook up with my ex girlfriend until a few months ago - you might have heard of her, her name's Taylor Swift - I fancy takeaway pizza, how about you?'"

I laughed at this before I could stop myself, and Harry paused, before continuing.

"I am so sorry I didn't tell you when you asked me about it that night. But answer me honestly - if it had been the other way around, would you have told me right at that moment?"

I didn't answer. I didn't trust myself to speak.

"You'd finally opened up to me, Jess," he said softly. "I wasn't about to ruin it by bringing up the past. It's the only time I've been anything other than completely honest with you, and I'm not proud of it. I'm sorry for not telling you about it sooner. I'm sorry you found out the way you did. But I didn't do anything behind your back, I swear."

My heart was pounding and my palms were sweating. I didn't know what to do, what to say, what to think. It all sounded so convincing.

I could see Grimmy smiling at me, still spinning the beer mat in his hand.

"Jess, are you still there?"

"I'm here," I squeaked.

"Do you believe me?"

"I... I don't know, Harry. I think so. I want to, it's just..." I closed my eyes again.

"It's just what?" His voice sounded so affectionate, so caring, it made me want to cry.

"OK, just imagine you're me for a minute."

"OK."

I stared down at the table as I spoke. "So, you're just a normal person, with a normal life and normal friends. You're hopelessly in love with this famous guy from, like, the biggest band in the world but he doesn't even know who you are. He literally has women falling at his feet, and rightly so because he's gorgeous, sexy, funny and confident. And then one day you meet him at a party and realise he is everything you ever thought he was, and more. And you end up sleeping with him, against your better judgement, and suddenly you're thrown into his world, and he actually seems interested in you. But you know he can't really be, because he's famous and you're a nobody, so you accept it was a one off and carry on with your life, secretly hoping he meant what he said and you might just get to see him again. But then he goes on tour and sleeps with another fan and it's all over the papers. Then another kiss and tell story comes out, which he says happened weeks ago, before you met him. Then you find out he has a famous fuck buddy that he didn't tell you about, but he swears he hasn't seen her in months either... You see why I'm having trouble with all this?"

I looked up to see Grimmy staring at me with his mouth open. I frowned at him. There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Err, Harry?" I said.

"You kind of had me at 'hopelessly in love'."

What?

SHIT.

I genuinely hadn't meant it like that. I'd been talking about before we'd met.

"It's an expression," I explained. "You know what I mean. An embarrassing crush on a celebrity."

"Oh."

Silence.

"If I was listening to someone else telling this story I'd be telling her the guy is a player, he's lying to her and he's not to be trusted," I blundered on. "I'd be thinking she's an idiot for even giving him the time of day."

"So why are you giving me the time of day?" he asked, bluntly.

"Because..." I faltered. Why was I?

Because you are hopelessly in love with him, my subconscious answered.

"Because..." I tried again.

Say it! The voice urged.

"Because despite everything I can't seem to walk away from you," I sighed.

"You managed to walk away in the airport," he pointed out. "You got on a plane and flew half way around the world to get away from me."

I rolled my eyes. "That was a bit different. I was about to get on the plane home anyway." Was it my imagination or did he sound a bit pissed off all of a sudden?

"Look, Jess, what do you want from me?" he asked abruptly. "I've told you what happened. I've apologised for not telling you about it sooner. If you're not interested and you're looking for a get-out clause just say now and we'll call it quits."

"What?" I said in disbelief. "Have you not been listening?"

"Yep. I finally hear you loud and clear. You had a crush on me because I'm famous and you used me for a bit of fun, and got to hang out with Liam and Louis in the process. You don't trust me, and you think I'm a player. I get it."

"That's... that's not what I said, Harry."

"Actually, Jess, that's exactly what you said. 'Every fan's fucking dream.' I think I'm done here."

"Harry..."

"So you know what? I'll stop calling, like you asked. But just for the record, I am not the person you think I am."

Before I could say another word I heard the disconnect tone. I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked down at it. Harry Styles - Call Ended.

I stared at it in disbelief, wondering what the hell had just happened. I looked up at Grimmy, who was still staring at me open-mouthed, as my eyes began to fill with tears.

"He hung up on me."

"What?!" Grimmy looked even more shocked. "For fuck's sake... call him back!"

"And get another mouthful? No thanks," I said, throwing my phone on the table and biting my lip, trying to fight back a sob.

"You two need your heads banging together!" he exclaimed. "How did you go from telling him you're hopelessly in love with him to him hanging up on you?"

"I didn't mean it like that!" I protested as a tear slipped down my cheek and I furiously wiped it away. "It's just an expression. I had a massive crush on him before I met him. I was stupidly besotted with him. But I didn't know him, so it was just a silly infatuation. I wasn't actually in love with him back then."

"And now?"

"Now he's a moody arse who just hung up on me!"

"Oh man, seriously? You're actually telling me you haven't fallen in love with him?"

I didn't answer.

"You need to call him back," Grimmy stated.

I shook my head. "He doesn't want to talk to me. He said he's done and he'll stop calling. I'm an idiot. For every reason possible."

"Yes, you are," Callie's voice piped up across the table, and Grimmy and I both looked over at her. "You are in love with him, Jess, and he's not going to hang around for ever if you keep pushing him away. He may be a celebrity but it doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings."

"I didn't say he didn't have feelings," I muttered.

"You're acting like he doesn't."

"Whose side are you on?" I snapped.

"Yours!" Callie said, rolling her eyes. "Christ, Jess, call him and say sorry before it's too late. Stop being stubborn."

Deep down I knew Callie was right about everything, as usual. But I felt hurt and humiliated that Harry had snapped at me and hung up on me. My pride was battling with my heart, and I didn't know which one was going to win. I stared at my phone for a minute, willing Harry to call back so I wouldn't have to make the decision myself. It didn't ring.

"For heaven's sake," I muttered, unlocking the screen and swiping his name. It rang several times then went to his voicemail. There was no way I was leaving him a drunk message. I dialled him again but this time it went straight to voicemail without ringing.

"He's switched it off," I said flatly.

"Text him," Callie ordered. 

I obeyed.

To: Harry Styles: I'm sorry, that all came out wrong. I shouldn't be allowed to speak to people when I'm drunk. I'll call you tomorrow. Sorry xxx

I threw my phone back on the table again and put my face in my hands. Callie got up and came and sat next to me with her arm around my shoulders. "Jess, you need to pull yourself together," she said softly but firmly.

"I know," I mumbled. "I'll call him tomorrow and I'll tell him how I feel. And if he doesn't want to know me then it's my own fault but at least I'll know for sure where I stand."

Callie nodded. "Right, you need another drink. And a Plan B," she said. She waved over at James and he dutifully stood up and made his way to the bar.

"A Plan B?" I repeated, pulling a mirror out of my bag to inspect the damage.

"A back up guy. To take your mind off Harry. In case it all goes tits up," she explained. "Sorry Nick," she said to Grimmy, who shrugged.

"Woah, hold on, I'm not sure about that," I said, shaking my head.

"What are you going to do, be a nun if you don't work it out with Harry?"  Callie scoffed. "James has got this friend at work called Adam who's really nice, single, no emotional baggage, no paps following him... you'd like him."

I switched off and nodded blankly while Callie talked about setting me up with James' friend, and let my mind wander back to Harry.

Had he really meant what he said about being done? About not calling me anymore? An hour ago I'd been adamant I never wanted to speak to him again. But now the tables had been turned against me, I couldn't bear the thought of not having him in my life. Was I really the kind of person who only wanted what she couldn't have? I'd never been like that in my life, but now I was questioning my motives.

Now Harry had explained his 'relationship' (for want of a better word) with Taylor Swift, I was inclined to believe his story. It all seemed to make sense, and it also tied in with what Lou Teasdale and Louis Tomlinson had told me about Harry being into me. I was just so worried about being publicly taken for a ride, and I knew it was clouding my judgement.

Grimmy disappeared to make a phonecall but came back almost straight away, and we stayed in The Rose Garden drinking cocktails until gone 3am. Callie insisted on putting James' friend's number in my phone as 'Adam Plan B' and I didn't have the energy to argue, even though I was not in the slightest bit interested in anyone else. She threw my phone back on the table as we pulled our jackets on and called for a taxi to take us home, and then we all staggered back through the empty bar and out onto the pavement into the waiting cabs.

I collapsed into bed around 4am and fell asleep immediately, dreaming of cocktails, missed calls and deep green eyes.

I woke the following day around 11am, staggered to the kitchen, downed a glass of water and 2 painkillers and got back into bed. I slept for another 2 hours and was woken up by the home phone ringing in the lounge. I ignored it twice, but started to panic on the third time in case someone had died or something.

When I finally picked up, it was Callie on the other end, being very dramatic.

"Where have you been?" she screeched. "I thought you were dead or something! Why aren't you answering your mobile?! I was about to call your mum and dad!"

"I haven't heard it ring," I croaked. "It's probably on silent."

"Did I wake you up?" she asked, a bit more calmly.

"Mmmhhhh," I mumbled.

"So you've not called Harry yet?"

"No," I replied. 

"Don't you think you should?"

"Isn't it, like, 5am in LA?" I said, squinting at the clock above the TV.

"Oh. Maybe. Well make sure you call him soon. I don't think I can take any more of you moping around."

"Sorry," I sighed. "I will call him later on. I just need to figure out what to say first."

We discussed my options for about fifteen minutes, before my stomach growled so loudly even Callie heard it down the phone, and we said our goodbyes and hung up. I took a long hot bath, trying to psyche myself up for speaking to Harry. I made myself a sausage and egg sandwich and a cup of tea, then tidied the kitchen and the lounge. I then pottered around, finding unimportant housework jobs to do to avoid thinking about the call I knew I had to make. 

It was teatime before I finally went in search of my phone. As I picked up my bag from last night my heart began to pound at the thought of laying my feelings on the line to Harry. What if he laughed at me? What if he was still cross with me? I needed to stop thinking.

I opened my bag. No phone. I creased my brow and glanced around the hallway, but part of me knew it wasn't in the flat because the place was spotless thanks to my procrastination. 

Even so, I turned the place upside down for a full hour before I accepted the fact it was not there. 

Panic set in. All my contacts, my messages - my heart sank - my photos of LA, of me and Harry, the video of the water fights, of us singing to One Way Or Another in Harry's car... they were all on my phone.

I quickly looked around for my mobile to ring myself, before I remembered I'd lost my mobile and that was why I needed to ring it. I mentally face palmed. 

I dialled my own number from the house phone but it went straight to voicemail. I felt physically sick. My location services were switched off from when I'd been in LA so I had no way of tracing its whereabouts.

I needed to call the cab firm (I hadn't a clue which one we'd used last night) and The Rose Garden. I'd left my laptop at work on Friday so I had no internet to even Google the numbers, so I rang Callie from the house phone and asked her to get me the numbers I needed. By the time she got back to me and I managed to get through to each one and determine my phone was alive and well and currently in the cash register at The Rose Garden, it was nearly 8pm. I reluctantly agreed with the barman (whose name was Adam, he told me) that I would pick it up after work the following day, but in the meantime I had no way of contacting Harry. I hadn't a clue what my password was for Twitter so I couldn't even ask Callie to log on from her laptop and message Harry, and he didn't follow her so she couldn't DM him for me.

I felt bad that I'd said I'd call him and now wouldn't be able to, but a little part of me was relieved I had another day to work up the courage to tell him how I felt. Now I was sober it was starting to seem less and less of a good idea.

Monday dragged, and I was less than impressed at having to traipse across London in the opposite direction at 5pm to retrieve my phone, when all I wanted to do was get home and think about what I was going to say to Harry. It was almost 6pm when I walked into The Rose Garden and caught the barman's eye.

"Is Adam here?" I asked over the music. "I'm here to pick up my phone. It's Jess."

"I'm Adam," he replied, smiling. "Does your phone have any distinguishing features?"

"It's in a pink case and it's got a scuff on the top right hand corner," I told him, and he smiled again and handed me my phone across the bar.

"The battery died on Sunday right after someone called," he told me.

"Who called?" I asked.

He laughed. "Well according to the caller ID, Harry Styles?!"

My stomach dropped and the colour drained from my face. "What?" I said faintly.

"I answered it and he asked for Jess, and then he asked who I was. So I said it's Adam, and that you'd left your phone here last night."

I stared at him in horror. "Left it here last night...? I hope you explained that you worked in a bar?!"

He gave me a funny look. "Well I would have but he didn't give me chance. He just swore at me and hung up..."