(No Control - 37. Clouds)

Lou wakes me up by knocking on my door the following morning around 10am. I'm like a zombie after only a few hours' sleep, but she convinces me to get up, get showered and get outside for some fresh air.

By the time I am ready it is nearing lunchtime, so we head to a cafe for some food, accompanied by security. A few fans stop and say hi, and want pictures. I oblige, even though I'm not in the mood, because it isn't their fault I'm feeling like shit. And besides, they are all so polite (and excited), it makes a refreshing change. Some fans are so rude, honestly.

While we eat lunch (or rather Lou eats, and I push my food around listlessly on my plate) I tell her the latest episode of the Jess saga. She listens dutifully, and watches me with concern as I check my phone glumly for the tenth time that hour.

"I've never seen you like this before," she says tilting her head to the side to look at me. "I mean, I've seen you miserable over a girl, but never like this. What's so special about her?"

"I can't explain it," I sigh. "She's not like anyone else I've ever dated. She doesn't treat me like a celebrity. She just treats me like a normal person. Do you have any idea how rare that is, for someone I've just met, let alone a bloody fan?!"

"Are you sure she's a fan?" Lou asks dubiously. "Maybe she just said that at the start to humour you, and then couldn't admit she wasn't?"

I picture Jess sitting at the breakfast bar in my kitchen, beating out Little White Lies with her fingers.

"Trust me. She's a fan," I insist.

We wander around some shops for a bit, and then stop in another cafe in the afternoon for a drink. I'm just sitting down in the sunshine when my Twitter notification sounds. I pull my phone out and my heart lurches.

Jess has tweeted.

@jessie_braddy: Get out, get out, get out of my head, and fall into my arms instead. I don't, I don't, don't know what it is, but you've got that One Thing

Oh my God, she's tweeting One Direction lyrics. Is that aimed at me?

Am I being really egotistical thinking it might be?

I tweeted '#littlewhitelies' about her though. Maybe she's doing this to get my attention.

Fuck it. I'm going to ask her.

No I'm not. What if it isn't about me?

I've got a feeling it is, though.

For fuck's sake.

Who are you tweeting about so early in the morning? x, I type, and press send before I can change my mind.

Lou comes over to our table with a latte for her and a smoothie for me.

Maybe I'm just listening to One Direction x, comes the reply a minute later - AND THERE'S A KISS ON THE END.

I grin stupidly, and of course Lou notices.

"Who are you texting?" she asks nosily, and when I don't answer but carry on grinning she rolls her eyes and smiles. "Let me guess - Jess."

Are you? x, I type to Jess.

"Yeah," I tell Lou, and put my phone on the table next to my hand.

No x, Jess replies.

What are you doing? x, I ask.

Texting you x, is her answer.

I chuckle.

"Whaaaat?" Lou moans, jiggling in her seat impatiently. "Don't be having secret conversations! Fill me in!"

I turn my phone so Lou can read the thread and type back, Haha. What else? x

"She's cheeky isn't she," Lou remarks, smiling, and I beam.

Lying in bed but I should be getting up for work. You'll make me late x, Jess replies.

"Hmm, flirty too," Lou says, raising her eyebrows at me.

"Two can play that game," I smirk.

Wouldn't be the first time ;) x, I send to Jess.

"What does that mean?" Lou asks.

"I nearly made her late for work when, uh, I stayed over at her place," I say quietly, and she grimaces.

"Too much information," she sighs.

No, but you're not here to drive me in this time x, Jess replies.

I turn it up a notch.

If I was I'd make you pull a sickie ;) x

"Harry!" Lou scolds, and I grin.

Oh really? Why would I pull a sickie for you? x, she wants to know.

What I really want to say is 'I'd make you come repeatedly,' but I'm not quite that brave, and I also don't want Lou reading something like that.

I settle instead for, I'd make it worth your while x

"Ewww," Lou comments.

You reckon? x, she challenges straight away. She's trying to knock me down, but I'm not having it this time. Little Miss Upper Hand needs reminding how much she enjoyed my company when I stayed in her bed.

I know, I type back. You couldn't fake it that many times. You told me that yourself ;) x

Lou pushes the phone away. "I feel like I'm watching a peep show or something," she mutters.

Stop making me blush x, is Jess's next text.

I decide to keep her blushing, but change my tactics.

Aww you're cute when you get embarrassed x, I send.

I said stop it x, she replies, and I know I've rattled her again.

Don't start what you can't finish x, I remind her, and it's a few minutes before I get a reply:

I didn't start anything, you did! I'm on my way to work now, leave me alone x

Have a great day xxx, I reply, and yes I'm aware I put three kisses.

I'm grinning like a loon again as I put my phone back on the table.

"Oh you're back with us are you?" Lou teases. "Would you like me to surgically remove your phone from your hand?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you," I smile innocently, and she ruffles my hair affectionately.

.....

We are due to fly out to Jakarta for the next show the following morning, so we're up early and ready to go. We're waiting in a private room in the hotel for the cars to come and get us when I see Zayn is calling me.

"It's Zayn!" I say, happily, and the others all look up with interest.

"He's probably pissed," Louis says straight away as I answer it. "It's the middle of the night back home."

"Hey mate," I say enthusiastically. "How are things?"

There's a thick silence on the other end of the phone, before Zayn replies. "Alright man. Yeah, not bad."

"How's it going with Perrie? Are you sorting things out?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says awkwardly. "Um... are you on your own?"

"No, I'm with the others," I say looking up, and they all shout hellos. "We're just about to fly out to Indonesia."

"Great. That's cool," he says, but his tone is flat and muffled.

"Are you alright?" I ask, my heart beginning to pound nervously.

"No... no, not really. I need to tell you something," he says, and in that moment I know exactly what he is going to say.

I can't speak - it's like watching a car crash in slow motion. You know exactly what is coming and you are powerless to stop it.

"Mate... I'm really sorry," he says, and his voice breaks.

I put my hand over my face and look down at my feet.

"I'm not coming back," he chokes, and I can feel my entire body flushing hot as panic begins to set in already.

"Zayn...," I begin, but my voice breaks too.

"Don't, man... please...," he begs. "This is hard enough. Don't try and change my mind. I've agonised over this for days..." he stops and lets out a sob.

I feel tears filling my eyes.

"Maybe if you take a bit longer off," I suggest, my voice wobbling, "you might feel differently." Out of the corner of my eye I see the others looking over at me, and even though I'm not looking at them I can tell their expressions are slowly turning to ones of horror.

"I won't," he says miserably. "I have to do this, for my own sake. You know I haven't been happy for a while. I have to do this for me now. I have to follow my heart. It's my life with Perrie or my life with the band. I...," he falters, overcome with emotion. "I can't lose her, mate."

"I get it," I gulp.

Do I? He's choosing a girl over his career? I know he hasn't been happy for a long time, and I know the music we make isn't the kind of stuff he really wants to be doing, but to quit not even half way through a world tour just seems crazy.

"Don't hate me," he begs. "I don't want us to fall out."

"Course not, I'm always here for you, you know that," I mumble, wiping my eyes.

"You don't know how much that means, man," he says, his voice cracking again, and I feel my face crumple in misery. Neither of us speak for a minute.

I feel movement at my side and I look up to see Louis standing next to me, his face white. He's holding out his hand; he wants me to give him the phone.

I hand it to him wordlessly, and put my head in my hands and fucking cry.

"Zayn?" Louis asks tentatively. "What the fuck - are you alright, man? What's going on?"

I zone out as they talk, and I barely even look up as Gillian from Modest walks into the room, her face red, and begins to tell us what we already know.

I can't even think straight. Questions are flying round in my head in no order.

What happens without Zayn? Will the band continue? What will the fans do? They're going to be devastated. We've got a show in less than twelve hours. Will Modest release a statement before then?

Gillian has some answers for us: The official statement will be released later today, the show will go ahead and we will have a meeting tomorrow to discuss the next steps.

She apologises for the timing, but suggests we try to put this to the backs of our minds, get tonight's show over with and sleep on it. And that's all we get before we are ushered to the four waiting cars at the back of the hotel, ready to drive us to the airport.

My bags are loaded into the boot, and I sit numbly in the back of the car, staring out of the window. Suddenly my whole future seems uncertain. I don't know what I will do without this band, this job. I know everyone has been surprised at how quickly our popularity rocketed. Everyone seemed to be waiting for it all to come crashing down, but it never has. My mum says this to me all the time.

What if it's about to, though? What if this is the end? Will the fans still want us without Zayn? What if we don't make it as a four-piece? The whole group dynamics will shift. I'm not ready.

I pull my phone out and call Mum. I need to talk to someone about this.

But I'd forgotten it's like 3am back home, so unsurprisingly she doesn't answer her mobile. I try Gemma on the offchance she might be awake, but she doesn't pick up either.

I've never felt so alone in my life. I want to talk to someone who cares about me, who can help me make sense of all of this. I consider Lou, but I'll be seeing her shortly anyway and she's too closely involved in the band.

Jess.

I don't feel like I know her well enough for a deep and meaningful heart to heart like this, but for some reason I want to tell her. I want her to find this out from me, not from the Daily Mail.

Will she think it's weird if I call her about this? What if I start crying on the phone to her? She'd probably run a mile. I know I would if I were in her shoes. No, I won't cry. I just want to hear a friendly voice.

Karen would go fucking demented if she thought I was about to spill something this huge to someone who isn't bound by a Non Disclosure Agreement.

Oh well. What she doesn't know won't hurt her. And I know it sounds corny, but she doesn't know Jess like I do. I know Jess won't disclose anything to anyone, contract or not. I trust her.

I'm doing it.

She doesn't answer.

Fuck.

I try Mum and Gemma again, and then give Jess one more shot, but no one picks up.

I shove my phone back in my pocket with a sigh and lose myself in my thoughts all the way to the airport.

.....

When we land in Jakarta there is a voice message from Jess with what sounds like a loud breath, and a text:

Hey, did you call me earlier? x

I call her back, but infuriatingly she doesn't answer.

I put my phone away as we go through Passport Control, and once we're on the tour bus I notice I have a missed call and a message that says, Sorry I keep missing you! I'm just about to get in the car with Sarah and some others so if you call again I can answer, but you'll be on speaker x

I call Mum and Gemma first to break the news to them, and they are understandably shocked and devastated for me. I get emotional talking to Mum, and have to get up and move to the back of the bus out of sight and earshot of the others.

Once I've come off the phone I sit and stare at my message from Jess. It'll probably be too late to call now; she'll undoubtedly be in the car with her friends, but I want to hear her voice. I know that sounds stupid.

I bite the bullet and call her. She answers on the fifth ring.

"Hi," she says.

"Hey," I say softly, and jump out of my skin as I am deafened by a load of screams. I pull my phone away from my ear and stare it at, my heart hammering. What the fuck?

"Oh Jesus," I hear Jess mutter. "WILL YOU SHUT UP! Man up, Gary!" she shouts.

Gary? What's he doing in the car? Why are they screaming? Is it because I'm calling her?

I can't help but chuckle at this thought.

"I'm on speaker, then?" I ask.

"Yeah, sorry about that." She sounds embarrassed. "You OK?"

No. I'm not. I'm far from OK. I want to be at my mum's house on the sofa with a massive tub of ice cream watching shit TV and taking the piss out of Gemma.

"Not bad," I say out loud. "Where are you going?"

"Company team building event in St Albans," she answers, and she sounds distracted.

"Are you there all day?" I wonder.

"Yes, and tomorrow."

That sucks. I really want to talk to her, in private.

"Can you call me on your lunch?" I ask.

"Yeah." There's a pause. "Are you OK?"

Fucking hell. I can hear the concern in her voice and it brings a lump to my throat.

I swallow it and take a deep breath. "Yeah I'm alright," I fib.

"OK," she says, but I know she doesn't believe me, and a little part of me - no, a big part of me feels happy that she can tell when I'm not OK.

"I'll speak to you later," I mutter, before my emotions take over.

"Bye," she says softly, and my heart swells at her caring tone.

"Bye!" I hear someone else call.

"Bye everyone," I respond, and I pull my phone away from my ear as they scream again.

"I'm really, really, really sorry about my friends!" I hear Jess shout, and I grin at the mental image of her driving a car full of hysterical screaming girls, and the blonde guy she kissed.

I still hate him.

"It's ok," I smile. "Bye."

I cut the call off and lean my head against the window, deep in thought. Even with all the shit that's happened today, I feel suddenly calmer. I'm still terrified at the thought of what's going to happen to us without Zayn, and in what direction (no pun intended) we may now all be headed. But somehow, hearing that tone in Jess's voice has grounded me.

She has given me something to look forward to when this part of the tour is over, and I'm suddenly struck by an impulsive thought.

I had planned to spend April and May in LA. We have some writing and recording to do, and some other promotional stuff lined up - The Late Late Show being one of them, as my friend James Corden is the new presenter - and we're attending the BBMAs...

I could ask Jess if she wants to come and spend some time in LA with me. We could get to know each other properly, see how things go. We would get slightly more privacy over there than if we tried to date casually in London. But would she want to?

Should I ask her?

I need to ponder this one for a while.

I pull out my earphones and plug them in, close my eyes, and spend the rest of the journey to the hotel listening to Fleetwood Mac and imagining all the stuff we could do if she comes to visit.

No, not rude stuff.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

.....

We're all pretty quiet as we dump our stuff at the hotel and go straight to the venue. Sound check is flat and awkward, and Louis storms off stage when his mic isn't loud enough, holding up proceedings until he returns (with suspiciously red eyes.)

Once we're finished we head to our backstage lounge. As the show draws nearer Liam suggests we sing a couple of warm up songs to get our spirits up, so we get in a huddle and belt out a few numbers, and by the end of it we're smiling. I for one am feeling a bit better at least. We grab some water, and I run to the loo quickly, and when I return I pick my phone up from the corner of the sofa and see I have a missed call and a text from Jess.

I growl in frustration as I read the text - Hey, I've got half an hour for lunch, so call me back? x - and look at the time - 7.35pm. I bet I've missed her.

I call her back and I'm not surprised when she doesn't answer. I'm gutted she's going to find out about all this from someone other than me.

We wait around to be called, no one really saying much, as the news of Zayn's departure from the band breaks across the world. Phonecalls begin flying back and forth between Modest's international team, the UK office and our tour management, and we sit glumly on our sofas trying to come to terms with today's events.

None of us are in the mood for this concert at all, and I keep feeling a lump in my throat when I think back to my conversation with Zayn earlier, and how he must be feeling right now. I need to pull myself together for the sake of the fans, and put on a good show tonight. Without them, we are nothing. We owe them a damn good performance.

Alex pokes his head around the door. "Ready guys?" he asks, and we get to our feet.

Liam pulls Louis into a one armed hug as we walk to the door, and then grabs Niall with his other arm, who in turn grabs me. We stop and form an impromptu circle, our arms around each others' shoulders, and collectively take a deep breath, exchanging nervous looks.

"This is it, lads," Liam rallies, and I bite my lip and look away as another wave of emotion hits me.

"Let's start as we mean to go on," Louis says, and I hear the quaver in his voice.

"Definitely," I swallow.

"This one's for Zayn," Niall says. His eyes are glazed.

And we nod, pick up our mics and make our way onto the stage to the roar of the crowd.