Harry and I, we're complicated. That's one of the best words for it. On our own we're already both a bit overly-dramatic with a flair for feeling things too deeply. Put us together and we're a crazy tidal wave of emotions that no one can control. And it hurts us, a lot.

                That's why we didn't work. It's just not worth it. I mean, look at us. We can't stand the sight of each other now, one can only imagine how bad it was when we threw love into the mix.

                We make each other crazy. I swear it's really not healthy. I prefer my sanity, thank you.

*****

I remember the first time he told me he loved me.

We'd been watching the telly in my apartment, cuddled together on the couch. I snuggled my head into the crook of his shoulder, trying to be as close to him as possible. He held his hand in mine and stroked his thumb along the outer edge.

He turned the sound off suddenly. "Allison?"

"Mhmm?" He was always so warm, it was like he radiated heat.

Our position changed when he suddenly turned to look at me. "I've been thinking about, well, us, recently and um...." I stared at him, cocking my head slightly. Where was he going with this? His hand moved to the back of his neck and I could tell he was nervous. My stomach flip-flopped in anxiety.

"Well, what I meant to say is that, we've been spending a lot of time together recently, and it's been great and all, but,"

"But what?" I interrupted, suddenly very eager for him to get to his point. 

My heart was pounding in anticipation, and I don't know why,  but my head suddenly told me he was trying to end things. Why would he act like this otherwise? Why would he be this nervous? Why was he being like this? What other motive could he have. 

"Have I done something wrong?"

At the same time my heart was telling me that it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he just wanted me to meet his mum. Maybe he wanted to move in together. Truthfully, there were a million reasons he could be nervous. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe he loved me.

"No! Not at all! But..."

Why would he do that, Allison? Thoughts started swirling around my head as my demons reared their ugly heads. Why does he even like you? Who would ever like you? You're loud mouthed and obnoxious and you overreact to everything and you're a know-it-all. Why would he want any of that? Why would he want someone that complicated?

"Are you breaking up with me?"

He deserves better than you. He deserves some nice, quiet girl who wears pretty dresses and always says please and thank you. He's an international pop star, for crying out loud. You're not even good enough for him.

"No! I just-"

You're not.

"Because the door is right there. If you want to leave, you can leave."

"Do you want me to leave?"

He could do so much better than you.

"I don't want to make you stay, if its not what you want." Yes I do! my heart cried out. Don't go! Say you want be here, with me!

"Why are you being like this?"

My mouth suddenly felt dry. "Being like what? I'm just telling you what you already know. I don't need you. If you want to go, then go."

"What do you bloody mean you don't need me? I was under the impression that we were in a relationship." His voice hardened and I knew I was pushing it, but I couldn't stop myself. I felt like an earthquake unable to stop my quiver from destroying everything in my wake. I wasn't sure I wanted to stop it, self-sabotage was my poison pill of choice. My heart said no but my head said yes.

"That doesn't mean I need you. I have a life you know. One that doesn't involve you."

"Allison, what the hell?" He looked so confused, and a little hurt, and suddenly I felt bad about why my own self-doubt doing to him. "Why are you being like this? We were fine just a minute ago."

I don't know. I didn't know. I still don't. But my mind took that moment of uncertainty and turned it into something ugly. A moment that should have been beautiful was suddenly anything but, and it was all my fault. 

"Maybe you should just go," I said, feeling my insecurities take over. I wanted to be alone and curl up under my sheets with sad songs as my only friend. I didn't want to hear the end of what he had to say. It would be bad, I knew it would, and I turned to my old pal anger for fear of letting him see what I was feeling on the inside. 

I felt his irritation. Truthfully, I don't blame him, I'm not one to sit here and pretend that I don't blow things out of proportion. That's just who I am. "Fine, whatever. I don't know what's with you. I'll go if it'll satisfy you." 

"It will." It won't. Shouldn't he know that by now?

I grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and threw it at him, suddenly unable to stand the sight of him and face my own self-loathing head on. He stopped moving when we got to the doorframe.  "Al, wait. This is stupid, I came here tonight to tell you that I,"

Oh for fucking fucks sake. "THAT YOU WHAT?! For god's sake, Harry, spit it out already!" He stood on the other side of my doorway, and looked so hurt, all of a sudden desperate to go back to the way things were just a minute ago. He never stayed angry for very long, not like me. 

"I came here to tell you that I love you, Allison!" He grabbed my cheeks and forcefully pressed his mouth against mine. My lips betrayed me for a moment, allowing the sweet taste of him and the heat from his body to pleasure me as I began to kiss him back. He continued on and  I felt the overwhelming need for him in this moment. 

I knew how crazy it all was. Who else would throw their fricking boyfriend out while he was trying to tell you that he loved you? How did he stay when I pulled this kind of bullshit practically daily? 

I opened my eyes and he pulled away as we stared at each other, panting from the intensity of the kiss. "Oh," was all I could manage to say. I still felt a sour taste inside me, but I could feel his kiss start to replace the feeling with sweet. He was my cure. 

Harry continued to stare at me, a smile playing on his lips, and I knew he was trying very hard not to laugh. "Oh," he said back, kissing me once again. 

*****

I was fuming. Fuming. I'm fairly certain smoke was coming out of my ears. Bloody hell, I would have bit his head off if he was anywhere near me.

It wasn't really even what he said. It was the fact that I ended up looking like some sort of jealous idiot. And it wasn't even that I looked like a jealous idiot, it was that he made me look like a jealous idiot. Snarky little fucker. Why did he think he had the right? Why did I let him have the right? 

Lizzie and I were standing at the food table. The boys were busy, and, well, who can ever really say no to free food? Liz and I were gladly stuffing our faces while they bustled around, prepping for the show. 

I crammed a handful of crisps into my mouth, enjoying the salty tang it left on my tongue. The bellyful of anger I had earlier was slowly being replaced by a bellyful of food. Slowly.

I don't know why he has such an effect on me. He just finds new ways to push my buttons every day, and in his spare time finds more buttons to push. God, he needs a hobby or something. But, you know what? It was my turn.

Turning around to the sound of voices, I saw the fellas emerge from whatever they had been doing. Truth be told, I privately thought all of this was really cool. I liked to sing, and watching people do it professionally and all the work that goes into putting on a show was awesome. But I had been kind of preoccupied with food to notice exactly what was going on at every single moment.

I ran to catch up with them in the hallway. "Hey Zayn!" I called out loudly. "Wait up a minute, yeah?"

*****

I swear I was about to go deaf. How the hell to those Directioners still have voices left to scream with? It's been an hour! They should've had laryngitis by now! And anyone who wasn't screaming was bawling their eyes out. Sheesh. 

Okay, I'll admit it, they can sing. And they're not not fit. But you don't see me ruining my vocal chords or my eye makeup every time I see them, or hear them sing in rehearsals. I spend a lot of time on that!

My focus shifted from the screaming teenagers back to the people that were on stage. The lads were dancing around and, honestly, looked like they were having a blast. Niall kept doing these crazy jumps and they were all grinning from ear to ear.  They really were having the time of their lives, and it was hard to be too cynical when I was watching my best friend live out his dream. 

Even Lizzie was dancing around a little bit. One Direction weren't exactly her thing, either, but she tolerated it a lot better than I did. The boys were close enough that we could stand listening to them and dance around in between moving from the food table back to the wings where they could see us waiting. On one side of me there was almost complete darkness, and on the stage it was nearly blindingly bright. I don't know how they managed to do what they did while dealing with all the lights and the sounds and the screams at the same time. 

I played with my VIP pass, twirling it around my fingers like a lanyard with a whistle. I used to lifeguard every summer and I can't tell you how many hours I've spent doing that, and it was a hard habit to break. 

After what felt like forever, I finally met Zayn's eye and he nodded at me. I raised my eyebrow mischievously in response to give him the go-ahead. Oh, this was gonna be good.

As Harry turned around to face some fans on the left side of the stage, Zayn tugged at his skinny jeans to reveal his plaid boxers to the entire stadium. There was a millisecond of quiet before sounds of laughter were combined with even more screaming mixed with bundles of laughter. 

Zayn pulled his microphone up to his math and Harry quickly fumbled with his trousers, his mouth in a tight, embarrassed line. "Just in case any of you were wondering, that was a present from our little friend Ally." The other boys were howling with laughter, clutching their stomachs at the fact that I was behind it all.

Harry didn't say anything, just turned to the wings where he knew I would be. He stared at me with a stone-faced expression. His eyes glowed with an angry fire that I was slowly becoming familiar with. 

He was right, this was fun. 

"They're not too keen on each other, are they Zayn?" Niall asked impishly, adding fuel to the flame.

I wiggled my fingers at Harry in a wave, a slow smile spreading across my face.

Song: Gives You Hell by The All-American Rejects