A/N: I'm dedicating this chapter to @CrushingBarriers who has stuck with this story since the beginning! Thank you for all the encouragement!

I hope you like this chapter. We're getting really close to the drama now. I'm excited!

Warning: there's some smut ahead

HARRY / PRESENT

After putting on SPF one million Niall was ready to come scope out the park and venue for the wedding. We weren't going to risk getting swarmed again, so we all wore sunglasses and snapbacks and made sure Zayn wore a shirt that covered his tats. It wasn't easy.

Sophia was working, but Liam happily strolled through the park with Zayn on his arm instead, the two friends still hopelessly affectionate with one another. It hurt my heart. I had missed my own friendships with the lads but I missed watching the way they were with each other even more.

Darby brought along two of her friends; her colleague at the magazine, Sarah, and her childhood friend Chloe. They hated our music and teased Darby mercilessly when she and I started dating, but they came around eventually. Or at least, that's what they told Darby. Sarah, in particular, remained unimpressed. She wrote a gossip column for Rolling Stone online. She followed us religiously just so she could tear us down in epic fashion. We didn't have to tell her that Louis wasn't coming to the wedding. She already knew.

Chloe, a petite brunette with a sharp bob and an eagle eye, surveyed the area. "We could put the maypole over there that way you'll get a bit of the cityscape in the background in the pictures. I don't like the look of that cream signage back there. It will totally clash with your dress."

"Have you got someone to set up the chairs?" said Sarah. "What about the canopy? I know you want to do it all yourselves but is that realistic?"

"Hey, she's got us," said Niall casually flexing his biceps.

"Yeah, I'm pretty good at heavy lifting in case you can't tell," said Zayn.

"We can't," Chloe said drily. "Take off your shirt."

"Nobody's taking their shirts off!" Liam scolded. "Not today."

The girls lay down on the grass, heads pressed together, their bodies spread out in the shape of a star. They were planning photo ideas. I offered to ask Patrick Ecclesine-the photographer who shot the band for Vanity Fair-to photograph the wedding but Darby didn't want the fuss. Like every other aspect of her wedding she wanted the photographs to be personal.

The lads looked at each other and tried to figure out what they might do for a boy's photoshoot. Liam eyed Niall. "One, two, three, four..." The lads pummeled me to the ground.

I tried to get up but Zayn straddled my back and slapped my ass. "What about this pose, sweet cheeks?"

I flushed. I forgot how good it felt to be pinned beneath a man's weight.

Then Niall hopped on. "This is good! An equestrian theme!"

Zayn brushed a curl away from my ear and whispered. "You do love horseback riding, Hazza."

I thought Liam might save me, but he just pet me like a pony and snapped a selfie.

When they finally got off of me we tried another pose. Liam suggested yoga. He grabbed my leg and lifted it above my head. "Wow! Still so flexible!"

"Ahhh, you're going to split my pants," I hollered.

"These jeans are obscenely tight," said Liam.

Niall in his oversized basketball shorts just shook his head, "Can you even call these jeans? At what point are they just leggings?"

Darby assessed the pose. "Um horseback riding and yoga are cool but I was hoping you guys could do an action shot. Jumping up mid air or-"

"Throwing Hazza up in the air."

"Or in the water."

"Let's try to keep him dry," she said.

With her tape measure, Chloe walked backward through the reception area. "I think this would be a good place to set up the music."

Sarah flipped her long black hair and glanced at the lads quizzically. "Will you guys be playing?"

"We haven't really discussed it yet, to be honest," I said.

The lads murmured disapprovingly and closed ranks.

"You don't have to do a whole set or anything," said Darby trying not to be offended. "But I was sort of hoping you could sing Strong."

Louis wrote Strong. He wrote it for me. Us.

After an awkward silence, Niall put his hands in his pockets. "We've never played without Louis before. And definitely never one of his songs."

"Well, Liam you can play the guitar solos, can't you?" said Sarah.

He looked at his shoes. "I could but...."

Playing together would be a final seal of approval from the lads, their blessing on our marriage. They couldn't do it. They couldn't bring themselves to betray Louis this way.

Seeing the pained expression on both mine and Darby's faces. Zayn piped up. "What about the new stuff you've been working on, Harry?"

He couldn't have known that Darby and I had argued about this the night before and that it was still a touchy subject. I wasn't ready to share my music but I couldn't disappoint her again.

"Yeah. That's a good idea. I'll perform the new material."

"Are you sure?" She touched my arm.

"Of course."

The lads, Chloe and Sara started chatting about the stag and doe bonfire.

When they weren't looking, Darby mouthed, "Thank you."

There was peace and quiet in the days leading up to the stag and doe. The calm before the storm. Niall and Zayn went with Liam, Sophia and the girls upstate to their cabin on the lake for the weekend.

Darby was at her desk, in sweats, with her horn-rimmed glasses perched at the end of her nose. She was distracted from her wedding planning by a new article she was writing.

She didn't say what she was working on but it must have been important because she didn't hear Arthur whining to go out for a walk. "I'll take him," I said. "I'm a dog dad after all-step-dog-dad."

Arthur nipped at my shoe. "Alright, alright."

Ever since Zayn and Niall landed, the jig was up. Paps were stationed outside the apartment 24/7. I wore a hat and sunglasses but there was no point.

Arthur hated strangers on a good day. This lot drove him absolutely mad. I wondered if a dog could lose his voice from barking too much.

I turned the corner and lost a few paps who stopped to reload their cameras. I had my phone with me and checked my messages.

I got something unintelligible from Zayn about lasagna and hopscotch? Autocorrect was not his friend.

Niall simply texted me a picture of him on a speedboat giving the thumbs up with Liam in background wiping out on water skiis.

There was another text but I didn't recognize the number. I put the phone back in my pocket.

One pap came in too close and stepped on Arthur's paw. He yelped and cowered by my leg.

I turned and hissed, "Back up! Back away!"

"A couple more pictures Harry."

"Come on Harry, tell us something about the wedding."

"Give us something."

I walked down an alleyway and through a park. Arthur ran as fast as his stumpy legs could carry him, which wasn't very fast at all, so I scooped up his round wheezing little body and ducked into an empty diner. We slinked into the back table. I scratched him behind the ear. "So much for that walk, eh buddy." I was pretty sure he rolled his eyes.

"No dogs," said the waitress, placing a glass of water down in front of me. I took off my sunnies and clasped my hands in prayer. "No dogs," she repeated. I pressed Arthur's paws together and pouted. I saw the flush of recognition in her face. The girl cracked a smile. "Fine, but keep him on the floor."

One of the paps burst through the door and quickly scanned the room. I sunk down further in the vinyl booth and put my menu up over my face. He stood there for a few seconds until he finally gave up and left.

I exhaled, relieved, though not for long. The waitresses were now peeking over at me and giddily texting.

That reminded me. The mystery number. I fumbled in my pant pocket for my phone. I clicked on the unread text.

Are you alone?

I looked around. There were two waitresses but my back was to them and they couldn't see me slouched in the booth. Arthur was now fast asleep on the ground.

Sort of

Good

Who is this?

They texted back a blurry video. Slowly it came into focus. Black fabric. Someone's black pants. Suddenly a cuffed hand came into view and slowly unzipped them. The video stopped.

I think you got the wrong number mate

My phone pinged again. Another video. This time the man's hand slipped into his pants. I stared at it forgetting to breathe for a second. He moved it slowly in a gentle rhythmic motion. I rubbed the back of my neck. The video stopped.

Okay that's enough you wankers I typed. One of the lads had to be putting me on.

A third video came through a second later. The cuffed hand pulled out a beautiful uncut c0ck. I bit down on my lip. It looked familiar. The lads probably nicked these videos from some famous porn star's site.

The hand then expertly wrapped around the shaft and began pumping, a thumb circling the glossy slit. My eyelids fluttered. Okay, I needed to turn this off, but I couldn't. I felt myself grow hard, aching to mirror what I was watching on the small screen. The man began staggering his strokes and gently teasing his sensitive head. It felt like he was teasing me.

I looked over my shoulder. There were no other customers. I placed my hand on top of my jeans and just let it twitch there for a second. The video was shaking. The person filming was losing control, his uneven strokes, frantic and desperate, his need, so unselfconscious, so raw. God, this was hot. And I couldn't even see his face!

I unzipped my pants and sunk further into the booth. This guy was good with his hands. Really good. Fuck, I was going to get off watching this. I thought maybe I should go to the washroom to do it but there was no time. I was too turned on. This had never happened to me in public before. What in God's name was wrong with me? I was getting married in few days! Married people watch porn, I reasoned. True. But did they watch gay porn? Was I supposed to like it this much?

I undid the top button on my jeans and slipped a hand down my pants. I had enough sense not to take my c0ck out but I rubbed myself furiously through the fabric of my boxers. They were already damp with precum. I was close. The man in the video was closer. After a series of rough tugs he screamed and unloaded ropes of cum onto the camera lens. The video had been so quiet up until that point I didn't even think to lower the volume. His screams rang out through the diner the exact same moment I came in my pants. Arthur jolted awake and barked.

A waitress rushed over to see if I was alright. I pawed at my phone, desperate to close the video and hunched over so she wouldn't see that my pants were undone.

"I'm fine," I stammered, buttoning my pants under the table. "Can I get the bill?"

"You didn't order anything."

"Okay, then I guess I'll just be going."

I picked up Arthur and got out of there as fast as I could.

Back at the loft Darby had made major headway with her new article. I knew this because she had ransacked the cupboard and was eating her signature mix of Sour Patch Kids, peanut M&M's and BBQ chips. Gross.

I must have looked wrecked. She put aside her bowl and gave me a sweet and salty kiss. "What happened?"

"Uh, nothing. These paps are not letting up," I said, guiltily averting her gaze.

She frowned. "Well on the bright side, I've carved out a clear path for the article. I just need to do some more research and a few interviews."

I wiped Arthur's muddy paws with a dishtowel. He held them up for me one at a time like I was his shoe shiner.

"Let me see what you have so far," I said.

"It's not ready yet."

I tilted my head. "You always let me read your stuff." She stared into that heinous snack bowl. "What's up with you?"

"This piece is different."

"How?"

"Ugh, I didn't want this to happen right around the wedding, but it was impossible to resist."

"Darby, you're scaring me."

"It was actually Sarah's idea."

Nothing good ever came after the words "Sarah" and "idea."

"The wedding. It's going to be so special and meaningful to us. I know it'll be perfect and the best day of my life-that is, if I never win a Pulitzer..."

"Get to the point."

"It's also a unique opportunity and I'm in a unique position. I know I seem totally cool about it-but I'm marrying the lead singer of 1D for christsake!!!"

I laughed. "You're actually not that cool about it."

She narrowed her eyes. "Am so!"

"You're fan-girling again."

"My point is, it's not every day that a girl marries the lead singer of a world famous band with his former bandmates as groomsmen."

Not all the former members.

"You want to write about our wedding. Makes sense."

She bit her lip. "Not exactly. I want to write about the break up, from the perspective of this reunion. I was hoping that with a little bit of distance I could get some new insight into what happened."

What happened... I crossed my arms and walked over to the bay window. The sun dipped behind the Chinese grocery across the street, casting our building in shadow.

"I don't know what you're digging for. It's like you don't believe me. Or trust me."

She came up from behind and wrapped her arms around my waist. "That's not it at all. I know there isn't some big secret."

My heart beat faster and I untangled myself from her grip.

"I just think that all of you, being together again might remember some things, some details to put it all in context."

"The lads won't agree to this."

She grabbed my hand. "I need you to convince them. Look, I'm not going to write a smear piece about my new husband! I want you guys to have a chance to tell your story the way you want to tell it--not the way Modest, or the label want to tell it. We've heard that version and it's bullshit."

"It's nobody's business, and anyway nobody cares."

"Oh believe me, your fans care. You may not owe me and the magazine, but you do owe them some kind of answer."

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. Darby was like a dog with a bone once she sunk her teeth into a story. There was almost no point refusing her, but this was the last thing I ever wanted to happen. It would be bad enough if it were another journalist. The fact that it was her looking into this terrified me.

"What are you so afraid of?" she said.

"I'm not afraid," I lied. "I've finally put all this behind me. I want to move forward. With you."

My phone buzzed again. I dreaded looking down at it.

Darby's eyes widened. "Aren't you going to see who that is?"

Thankfully it wasn't another video, just a text from Liam. Zayn's missing

And? I wrote back.

No seriously we can't find him

Zayn was never not missing. Even if he was with you, someone else was wondering where he was.

He'll turn up

I'm worried. He drove in with us back to the city yesterday and I haven't heard from him since

Frustrated, I actually called Liam.

"So, Zayn's missing. Tell me something I don't know."

Liam's voice was muffled by the girls' hands on the receiver. They were trying to get the phone away from him. I couldn't quite make it out but Cordelia and Bedelia were screaming something about bath time and Dora-it was a mutiny.

"You know normally I wouldn't worry but we were all supposed to meet Bjorn and Alix at Nobu. Not only did he not turn up but he didn't answer calls or texts from any of us."

Bjorn and Alix were Swedish songwriters we worked with on a couple tracks. They were notorious club kids, coke fiends and all around degenerates. Zayn would never pass up a chance to see them.

"He must have lost his phone."

"He would pick up a burner wouldn't he?"

"And do what with it? He doesn't know any of our numbers."

"Has he emailed? Tweeted? He can't be completely off the grid."

Darby cupped her hands around her mouth. "What happened?"

"Zayn's missing," I mouthed back.

She threw her arms up.

"You're not going to like this, but I have to call Louis," said Liam.

I ran a hand through my sweaty, tangled mop. "What's he going to do?"

"He always knows what to do. Plus they're best friends, plus he's Zayn's manager. He probably has a contingency plan for this exact situation. Remember when we wouldn't turn up back at the hotel? We could ditch our phone, wear a disguise and Modest always found us."

"Yeah, I remember," I said grimly.

"Anyway, I'll call. In the meantime, let me know if he turns up."

"I will."

"Can I give Lou your number in case he needs to get in touch?"

"No!"

"I already..." Liam muttered something guiltily but I didn't quite catch it.

There was no number you could call to locate a missing pop star, just a network of other like-minded stars who may have drunkenly stumbled across him at a party.

We took turns. My rolladex of celebrities was the longest, followed by Niall, though most of his contacts were in L.A. Liam called everyone on the business end on the off chance that Zayn actually did something responsible like check in with his label or management.

Darby put on a pot of her strongest robusta bean coffee. She was treating this like a proper search party with maps and a whiteboard. Sarah came over to help. She was scouring Twitter and Instagram. Darby couldn't call any of her media contacts without tipping them off but she did reach out to a few discreet assistants to see if their bosses had anything about Zayn in the works for tomorrow.

We were coming up empty on all fronts. Sarah's incessant typing slowed to an occasional click, and Niall was lying next to his phone, his white gym socks stretching out over the edge of the sofa. Liam was on a call and Darby crossed another name off the whiteboard. Only Arthur appeared to be enjoying himself, carrying his squeaky toy around to anyone willing to play with him.

"Maybe we should put up posters. 'Have you seen this pop star?'" Sarah snorted.

"Or a Craigslist ad. Missed connections. I met this guy called Zayn and we shared a magical night together..." said Niall.

"And he stole all my hair products. And my t-shirts," I said, speaking from experience.

"We'd have half the city calling up."

"Yeah, wanting to murder us," Darby said pragmatically about Zayn's rather aggressive fanbase.

Liam stood up, his phone pressed to his ear. "No, that would be a great help. Thank you." He jotted down a number on the white board.

"Well?" I said.

"That was Lou's assistant, Annaliese. Apparently Zayn's been using his second phone."

"His Bat phone!" Niall pumped his fist.

"I thought he got rid of that ages ago?" He used it on tour when juggling different girlfriends.

Liam sighed. "He's a man of many secrets."

"Did you talk to him?" I didn't say Louis, but with Liam I didn't have to.

Liam's tired brown eyes softened. "No, he was out to dinner."

I didn't want to know who he was out with but a train of potential love interests flashed through my mind.

"What are we waiting for? Let's try the other number," said Darby using my phone to call. "Fuck!"

"What is it?" we crowded around her.

"The number's been disconnected."

Sarah rolled her eyes, "Well, Annalieseknows shit."

Niall was losing his patience. He got up from the couch and took off his hoodie. "This is dumb. What did Louis say when you spoke to him earlier? He knows exactly where Zayn is."

"He'll turn up. We just need to have a little faith." Liam was reaching and he knew it.

Darby was not about to leave something like this to chance. "The wedding is days away. We have the stag and doe and the rehearsal dinner, not to mention the fact that he's a groomsman and supposed to be performing at the wedding with Harry. This is an important day for both of us and if he isn't going to come he should at least have the decency to tell us!"

"I'll call Lou and find out what the fuck is going on," said Niall. Liam tried to stop him but Niall's phone was already ringing.

"What did he tell you earlier?" Darby asked Liam.

Niall had gotten through. "Hey, how are you mate... In case you haven't heard there's a manhunt for Zayn underway... Yeah, we're all here. Do you know where he is?" Niall looked up at us and then covered the receiver with his hand. "I don't think that's gonna to happen mate... Come on, just tell me what you know. We've got the wedding coming up and a shitload of other events-er, no offense Darby-do you have the name of a hotel, a girl, anything..." He exhaled. "Um, okay I'll ask him."

Niall looked up at me. "He wants to talk to you, Harry."

I could feel the blood draining from my face. "Anything he can tell me, he can tell you."

"He won't tell us anything unless he gets to talk to you."

Darby and Sarah looked at each other perplexed. "What's the big deal," said Darby. "Just talk to him."

The big deal was I couldn't forgive him long enough to have that conversation, and I couldn't hear the sound of his voice without losing myself completely.

"I. Can't. Niall, convince him to tell you."

Sarah turned toward me her arms crossed, an eyebrow arched. "Wow, you really can hold a grudge, Mr. Styles. Is this all because he can't make the wedding?"

Liam was clutching the edge of the table like a life raft. He had been doing everything in his power to avoid us having this exact conversation.

"It's a lot of things," I said.

Now it was Darby's turn to get in on the questioning. "That's the first I'm hearing of this."

Niall, still on the phone, helplessly shrugged his shoulders.

Darby became increasingly frustrated and worse: curious.

"It doesn't make sense," said Sarah. "You'll miss having both boys at the wedding because you're mad at one."

"Hey, Zayn is an adult. If he doesn't want to come to the wedding that's his choice," I said sadly.

Darby walked over to where I was sitting and pressed my head to her hip. "You don't mean that. And Zayn is hardly an adult."

I knew negotiations had stalled because Niall was now talking about the Manchester United game. "They should have given him a red card-he kneed the guy in the groin... That ref was bought and paid for."

"Give me the phone," I said.

"Oh, um, here's Harry for ya."

I took a deep breath and faced the wall.

"Hello," I said.

"I miss you."

"I... am here with my fiancée."

"Did you get my videos?"

"THAT WAS YOU?"

"Did you enjoy them?"

"I AM GETTING MARRIED IN FOUR DAYS."

"Is that a yes?"

"You are pathological."

"So, you're still going through with this?"

"You said you'd tell us where Zayn is if I spoke to you. I'm speaking to you."

"God, I love the sound of your voice."

"Louis."

"Are you still singing?"

"I'm not kidding around."

"You don't use it you lose it."

"Zayn."

"I know, I know. You want me to help you with your dream wedding to that... Girl."

"Lou, if you know where he is-"

"Oh, I know exactly where he is."

"Tell me!"

"No."

"You told Niall and Liam that..."

"I lied. I just said that so you'd talk to me."

There was silence on the line. He said, "Are you still there?"

Darby was watching me intently now.

"I am."

"Don't do this."

"I have to go."

"Harry, please."

I hung up the phone and collapsed onto the edge of the couch raking the curls from my temples.

Liam walked over and placed a hand on the back of my neck.

Niall shrugged his shoulders. "Well?"

"He wouldn't say."

"Fucker," hissed Sarah.

"Hey, easy now," said Liam.

Darby wasn't going to let this go either. "I don't get it. Does he not know where Zayn is or does he just not want to tell us?"

"Does it matter," I said mumbling into my hands.

She crossed her arms and stood resolutely next to Sarah. "Yes, it does. I understand that he can't bothered to make the wedding, but why try to ruin it for the people that can?"

"Ruin is a strong word," fired Liam.

"What would you call it?" said Sarah. "Obstruction?"

"He's takin' a piss," said Niall.

"I'm done with Louis. And I'm about done with Zayn." She sat next to me on the couch. I saw sadness in her eyes, but it wasn't about her or the wedding. She was sad for me. "How can you let them treat you like this?"

"They're our best friends," I said, turning to Niall and Liam for reinforcement.

"They're family," Liam corrected.

A/N: Where do you think Zayn is? Does Louis actually know or is he just using this as an excuse to get close to Harry?