HARRY/PRESENT

We were lying on the floor. Cordelia and Bedelia were dressing Arthur up in Darby's scarves and scrunchies. He sat there being poked and prodded with the quiet desperation of lapdogs everywhere.

Darby had her legs wrapped around my torso, cradling my head against her chest, while Liam looked through a folder of old photos on my laptop. We were trying to decide on photos for the memory reel at the wedding. On the eve of the wedding, when it got dark, we planned to screen a photomontage of our lives before and after we met. Darby had a collection of photos from high school and her college days at Vassar. I didn't finish high school because the band took off before I entered my senior year. My pre-Darby montage would consist mostly of life on the road with the lads.

"We used Capcam at our wedding," said Liam, "but with the amount of photos you have here I would recommend Fotor. You can create collages and edit them within the program itself..."

Zayn's eyes glazed over. It was just like old times.

There were millions of photos of me online but it didn't feel right using press shots for something like this. I wanted to use my own pics, which were personal and catalogued my messy real-time experience on the road—a mixture of boredom, exhaustion, mania and complete euphoria.

Liam clicked on a selfie I took of us onstage in Cape Town, and a snapshot of me asleep on the tour bus, a string of drool connecting my mouth to the pillow. Darby pinched my cheeks. "Awwwww. Yes to that one FOR SURE."

Then, accidentally, he clicked on a picture of me and Louis.

I heard myself gasp. Zayn shot up like he'd been hit by lightning and Sophia dropped the apple cups she was preparing for the girls.

It was taken in the green room on our first US tour. We were lying together on the couch with our arms entangled, Louis' lips gently grazing mine. My eyes were closed, my mouth open and expectant.

"That was," I stammered. "That was taken... I was... We were... It's not."

I was never good at this. Not in interviews when I was required to lie, paid millions to lie, and not now that the cost was much higher: Darby's heart.

Liam was my safety net then and he was now, though I could tell that the lie was wearing on him too after all these years. Our band's shiny veneer was slowly cracking.

"Oi, boys, we used to mess about, didn't we? Lou staged this shot while Hazza was asleep, I think. Remember that, Zayn?"

Zayn nodded in agreement before Liam finished posing the question. Then he blurted out, "I made out with Liam once."

Sophia looked at her husband in shock. She'd heard the rumours, like everyone else in the world. Fans called them Ziam Mayne, a ship so beloved that millions of people swore it was real, including respectable news outlets. Despite Liam's insistence that he was in fact straight, Sophia always suspected that there was something he wasn't telling her. What she didn't know was that Liam and Zayn's fake gay love story only existed to cover up my and Louis' real one.

"Yes, yes! Ha ha! We were a bunch of wankers," Liam laughed. Pressing the escape key over and over until the picture mercifully disappeared from the screen.

"Just a bunch of laddy lads doin' lad stuff," I added.

Darby's grip around my waist tightened. I was afraid to turn around and see her expression.

At that moment Bedelia held up a terrified looking Arthur covered in lipstick with a maxi pad for a hat,

"Look mommy."

Darby cried with laughter. I felt her grip loosen and the tension leave her body.

"I can't wait for you guys to have little ones of your own," said Sophia, rescuing Arthur from her daughter's clutches. 

Darby kissed the tip of my ear, "Me too."

"For their sake I hope our kids have your brains," I said.

"And I hope they have your looks. Even the boys can't keep their hands off you."

***

The good thing about living in Brooklyn was that nobody really cared about celebrities there, least of all a mainstream band like 1D. When I went out by myself or with Darby, we'd get the occasional stare or request for a picture but nothing I couldn't handle. Liam had grown a beard and wasn't easily recognizable. Adding Zayn to this equation proved to be the tipping point where polite nods turned to screams and photo requests to mobs.

Our tats were the real giveaway. Normally Zayn and I would wear hoodies or at least something that covered our arms but it was too hot out. I had rolled up the sleeves of my t-shirt and Zayn just ditched his t-shirt entirely. That's when the trouble started.

All we heard was "Look!" then screams and the sound of shoes on pavement. A group of teenage girls were chasing us.

Liam immediately started running. He turned to Zayn, "You had to take your shirt off?"

"It's fucking hot today, mate. I'm from Yorkshire not the Serengeti."

The girls wouldn't give up, and it looked like a new pack took note of the commotion and joined them in the hunt.

"I guess school's out," I said, panting, already out of breath.

"Come on, keep up!" Liam yelled back to me. "Sophia's shop is just around the corner."

Sadly, I wasn't in as good shape as Zayn and Liam.

"Go on, save yourselves," I cried melodramatically, falling further and further behind.

"Harry, Harry we love youuuuuu!" the girls cried.

"Ahhhhhh!" I went flying and hit the pavement with a thud. Before I could get up I was surrounded by phones recording and taking pictures. One of the younger girls in braces leaned down and kissed me. Then she screamed. Then her friends screamed. One by one they each kissed me and took a photo. When a girl offered to help me up another knocked me back down. I'm sure they would have dragged me off behind the alley if Zayn and Liam hadn't come back for me.

"I told you I had this."

"It doesn't look like it," said Zayn.

"Go on ahead. I'll make it."

"Leave no man behind," said Liam reaching through the crowd of girls to lift me up.

The girls were swarming them now. "Zayn! Zayn! Sign my arm! Sign my thigh, sign my—"

"Liam. Oh my god, Liam can I get a hug. If I call my sister will you talk to her and tell her you know me?"

A girl recording with her phone: "Harry, can you say 'I love Alexa?'"

Another girl recording with her phone: "Harry, can you say 'I love Madison?'"

We'd been through this hundreds maybe thousands of times before and it was always easier to just go with the flow. I got up and we posed for pictures and signed inoffensive body parts for a good thirty minutes. I surprised myself. Since the breakup, I usually clammed up at this sort of attention but with the three of us together supporting each other it was actually kind of fun, a welcome intrusion, a reminder that we could survive anything in good times and bad.

A petit curly-haired girl with stylish oversized glasses eyed me curiously. "Are you guys getting back together?"

I ran a hand through my hair, "Sorry to disapp—"

"And where's Louis Tomlinson?" asked a hyper blonde. "I would kill to see you guys play together again."

"Yeah, I would literally go on a killing spree to make that happen."

Another chimed in, "I would kill myself!"

"Er—" Zayn whispered to Liam. "I think it's time to get out of here."

***

By the time we got to Sophia's vintage shop, we were haggard, sweating—my shirt torn and covered in lipstick.

The shop was quaint, with an antique Edwardian hutch, turn of the century fixtures and large art deco wall hangings. I felt like I'd just waltzed into an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. Sophia came out from the back, stacks of beaded dresses draped over both arms. "Should I ask?" she laughed.

"Long story short, Zayn took his shirt off," I said.

"Gotcha."

"Oi! Don't blame me. If pretty boy here could keep up, we'd have got away just fine. I don't know how he's survived this long. Those girls were out for blood."

It was true, I was bleeding.

Liam shook his head. "I don't know what we're going to do the day of the wedding. You, me, Zayn and Niall... It's going to be shitshow. I know Darby said minimal security, but I'm going to put in a few calls just in case..."

I was trying to pay attention to Liam's concerns, but all I could hear was the deafening absence of Louis' name.

Sophia handed me a towel. "You look like you need this."

I blushed. "Thanks Soph."

"Oh shit." Zayn was looking at his phone.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's us."

Pictures of the three of us being kissed by a gaggle of girls had blown up on Twitter and got picked up by TMZ.

"Ugh, that's not even the worst of it," said Zayn.

"Didn't this happen like two minutes ago?" asked Sophia.

"Yes," we groaned in unison.

"Is 1D Getting Back Together? Band's Daytime Romp with Fans Fuels Speculation that a New Album is in the Works"

Right then all of our phones started buzzing. Zayn walked into the back to take his call while Liam paced about the shop trying to placate his publicist. I answered my phone fearing the worst.

"Oh, hi mum."

Sophia giggled.

"Nope, the rumours are not true. Zayn came to town early... Yes, he surprised us too... The guys are just helping with the wedding. You know that... I know, it would be nice... Mum, I've gotta go... I'll see you next week."

After finishing up his call, Liam kissed his wife. "It's being handled. Nobody freak out."

"I'll try not to," I laughed.

Sophia handed Liam a glass of fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice. I was still amazed that she got him to eat fruit and vegetables. He and Niall pretty much subsisted on chicken nuggets the five years we toured together. I fed them orange Livesavers to make sure they didn't get scurvy.

Moments later Zayn stepped out.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Management." He didn't say Louis' name but he didn't have to.

Zayn's loyalty to Louis didn't surprise me. While he and I shared an emotional bond, it was Louis he hung out with both before and after the band broke up. Zayn was friends with both of us but he was Louis' best friend. They had almost as many firsts as Lou and I did: First car crash, first time getting high, first arrest... Maybe they weren't the best influence on each other, but they were undoubtedly close. And now that Zayn and Louis were working together again there was another layer of closeness to their relationship that I had no part of.

"What did he say?"

"He's... angry. Actually, I couldn't make out the half of it. You'd think Doncaster just lost to Leeds or summat."

Sophia excused herself to go help a customer.

"Tell me," I said.

Zayn rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "He thought we were being 'fookin' irresponsible.' His exact words."

"Oh, that's rich coming from him," I scoffed. "He pulled the fire alarm at the BBC, streaked through Covent Gardens, set his hotel room on fire and—"

Zayn grinned, reminiscing fondly. "Yeah, he did."

"Was that it? Was that all he said?"

Zayn and Liam exchanged glares. "Um, no. He also said that if I was really his best mate I wouldn't go to your wedding."

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to maintain my composure. "So he's making you choose sides?"

"He's hurt, Harry," said Liam. "Don't take it personally. There's nothing you can say or do to make it better."

"No, Harry, you need to talk to him," Zayn pleaded. "You guys were... You can't get married without fixing this."

A part of me knew Zayn was right, but I also knew that what was broken between Louis and I was unfixable. I was afraid that even talking to him would open up a world of pain that I wouldn't be able to recover from. If Lou was angry, that meant he was suffering. Good.

A/N: Thanks for sticking with this story! I know not much has happened in these "present" chapters since Louis hasn't arrived yet, but he will! Don't worry! 

Next week I'll be posting another "past" chapter about Harry & Louis' first time, something I've been wanting to write about for a while :)