(No Control - 53. Over Again, first part)

May 2015

I sit on my bed trembling for about ten minutes. I feel physically sick.

I can't believe she's had sex with someone else. I rake my hands through my hair, pulling hard at the roots. It hurts my scalp, but nothing like as much as I'm hurting inside right now.

A fleeting thought passes through my mind, that this is probably how Jess felt when she found out about me and Taylor, but that is an unfair comparison to make because that happened before I even met Jess.

I can't believe she's moved on already. How can she be in love with me if she jumped into someone else's bed so soon?

I retrieve my phone and send her a text.

Wow. You sure moved on quick.

I don't know when she'll get it - probably whenever she next hooks up with this Adam prick.

I have nothing else to say. I'm in shock and disbelief.

Grimmy texts me later on asking if I've spoken to her, but I ignore him. I ignore all my texts and calls for the rest of the day (although I check each one to see if it is Jess), and when I wake up late on Monday morning, I have texts from Louis asking why I haven't been in touch about our scheduled studio time, so I send a short text back to confirm.

I haven't done anything with any of the songs in my head since I last spoke to him, and I'm really not in the mood for hanging out with anyone, particularly in the studio. I feel like shit and I just want to be left alone to mope.

My message to Jess hasn't been read yet, so either she's either changed her phone settings, or I matter so little to her that she hasn't even opened my text. Either way, she's made her feelings clear. I'm just gutted I allowed her to get under my skin to this extent. I'm still furious with her.

It's late morning on Tuesday when my phone lights up, just as I'm in the back of the car on the way to the studio to meet the others, and with a jolt I realise Jess is calling me. I divert it three times, taking pleasure each time in doing so. I sneak a look at my messages and see my text to her has finally been read. I feel a little bit uneasy. Something doesn't sit right.

Five minutes later, I get a text.

Hey, I just got my phone back, I left it in a bar on Saturday night which is why I didn't call you on Sunday. Sorry for always messing everything up. I really need to speak to you. I miss you. Call me xxxxxx

Does she think I was born yesterday?

My hands are trembling from the adrenaline as I text her back immediately.

Hey, don't worry about it. Grimmy told me your mate was setting you up with some guy called Adam. He answered your phone when I called you on Sunday. Hope it was a good night. Take care.

Take that, Miss I-Don't-Do-One-Night-Stands. She's lucky that text was as polite as it was. The way I'm feeling now I want to give her a piece of my mind, and hurt her like she's hurt me.

I divert another call from her, and then snatch up my phone again when it beeps with a text.

It's not what you think! I left my phone in the bar. It was about 3am, I was drunk and I got a cab home on my own. Callie wanted to set me up with her boyfriend's mate called Adam, and the barman who found my phone was also called Adam. Please call me back xxxxxx

She's really insulting my intelligence now. Two Adams, really? I don't get why she's bothering to lie.

Wow, both called Adam? That's a coincidence. Sorry I can't, I'm busy, I reply.

This is a lie. I'm not busy. I'm sitting in the back of the car on the way to the studio.

It is a coincidence, honestly, she replies. I wouldn't go back to some random guy's house I don't know xxxxxx

I actually laugh out loud. It's forced, but I do it to make a point, even though no one is listening. Because that is how ridiculous her argument is right now.

It takes me a couple of attempts to send my next message because my trembling fingers keep hitting the wrong letters on my screen.

Ha. Wouldn't you?

OK, I know that's low, but I don't think it's unfair. She slept with me the night we met. She has no right claiming to be virtuous.

She calls me. I swipe it away. There's something really satisfying about doing it.

I stare at my screen, waiting for the text I know will come.

Not with anyone else, you know that. You were the exception. I know how this looks but I promise you I went straight home on my own. If you'd just call me I can explain properly. I don't want to do this over text xxxxxx

What is with all these fucking kisses? Why is she saying all this crap? Why is she so bothered about what I think? She just wants to be able to bang me again because I'm famous. I'm her ticket to hang out with One Direction again.

I told you, I'm busy, I send back. It's not nice being ignored, is it? Now I know why you were so quick to think I was doing the dirty on you. You shouldn't judge everyone by your own standards.

I hope my words hurt her as much as hers hurt me. I can feel a lump forming in my throat.

I don't really want to hurt her, but at the same time I do. I'm a mess.

She rings me again and I waver slightly, before diverting it. I'm surprised when I get a voicemail notification, and I listen to it immediately.

"Hey, Harry."

Fuck, the sound of her voice makes me want to fucking cry.

"I'm sorry for being a dick on the phone on Saturday night. Everything I said came out wrong, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I was just trying to be honest with you and I messed it up. I didn't go home with anyone, and I swear I left my phone in a bar called The Rose Garden. You are the only person I've ever had a one night stand with, and even that didn't end up being a one night stand, did it?"

This is true. The lump in my throat is getting bigger.

"I don't sleep around. I know what it looks like but I promise you I haven't done the dirty on you. You're all I've thought about since I got back, I..."

Her voice wobbles and my eyes start filling up and my nose goes all hot.

"I can't even listen to One Direction anymore because I miss you. I can't believe I've just told you that on your voicemail."

I chuckle out loud and wipe my nose on my sleeve.

"And you're right, it's not nice being ignored and I'm sorry I gave you the silent treatment for two weeks. You didn't deserve that and I'm sorry I didn't trust you. Please call me. I'm so sorry. Bye."

Wow. She actually sounds convincing. For a moment there I actually believed her. I wanted to believe her. But I don't.

I thought she cared, but she told me it was just a embarrassing crush on a celebrity. I thought she liked me for me, but she said it was just a bit of fun and she got to meet One Direction.

She's just like all the rest.

I delete the voicemail.

.....

I'm in a foul mood by the time I arrive at the studio.

"What's up with your face?" Louis remarks as I walk in.

"Nothing," I snap, and flop down in one of the chairs and look the other way.

There is an uncomfortable silence.

"Have you spoken to Jess?" he asks tentatively.

"Yeah, she fucked some other guy, so I guess you could say that's over," I spit.

"What?!" Louis cries in disbelief. "How do you know? She told you?"

"No - she denied it," I snap, and fill them all in on the latest episode of the Harry and Jess saga.

No one says anything for a moment after I've finished, but they all look at each other.

"Are you both thinking what I'm thinking?" Louis asks Niall and Liam.

"Probably," Niall shrugs, and Liam gives a slow nod with his lips pressed together thoughtfully.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Louis says to me, bluntly, and I look up in shock.

"Wha...?"

"She's telling the truth, you fucking idiot."

I stare blankly back and forth between them all and they all stare back at me, their faces wearing the same sympathetic expression.

"He's right, mate," Liam says, when I don't say anything. "She's besotted with you. Any fool can see that."

I look at Niall for his input, and he shrugs. "I don't know her, but from the sounds of things I'd be inclined to believe her," he agrees.

I stare moodily at the floor, pissed off that no one is backing me up here.

"Come on, mate, we're not siding against you," Louis says, as if he has read my mind. "We're just trying to make you see sense." He hesitates, and says with a smirk, "Everyone else in the room can see it. Everyone else but you."

"You're a twat," Niall cusses, shaking his head at Louis while Liam groans, and Louis chuckles.

"Just call her, say you're sorry, send her some fucking flowers or something and it'll be fine," he suggests.

"She slept with someone else!" I splutter.

"No she didn't," Louis sighs. "And if you're honest, you can see there are gaping holes in your theory. You're just enjoying wallowing because you don't want to admit you're wrong."

"I - no I'm not," I snap. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Fine," Louis says, standing up and leading us into the studio where Julian and John, two of our co-writers, are waiting. "In that case, come out with us tonight. I had an awesome bird last night, and she's got loads of friends."

"Oh really?" Niall perks up as I firmly shake my head at Louis. "Who's that then?"

"Briana," he replies. "She's not shy, I'll give her that. She'll be more than up for another night out, if anyone fancies it?"

No one takes up his offer, and he shrugs nonchalantly.

"Play us that song you showed me the other day," he says to me as we sit down around the table, but I shake my head.

"That's shelved."

"Why?" Louis asks with narrowed eyes.

"Because it was about Jess and I don't want to think about her," I growl, and rolls his eyes.

I glower at everyone for most of the morning, and when we finish in the studio I check my phone and see I have a missed call and a text from Jess.

Hey, how's the album coming on? Say hi to Liam and Louis for me. Did you get my voicemail yesterday? I'm really sorry for everything xxxxxxx

Louis' words come back to me, but I'm tired from our studio session, so I don't respond. It won't hurt to keep her hanging, like she did to me for two weeks.

I'm first to arrive at the studio the following morning. Louis is last, and storms in with a face like thunder.

"What's up Tommo?" Liam asks.

"Have you seen the stupid fucking photo that slimy twat Naughty Boy has tweeted of him and Zayn?" he snaps, and he shows us the picture on his phone.

"'Replace this,'" Liam muses, reading the caption. "That's aimed at me," he says after a moment. "Because I posted that video on Instagram of that guy singing karaoke, and joked about him being the new fifth member. He must think I was making a dig about replacing Zayn."

"I don't care who it's aimed at, he shouldn't be fucking stirring it," Louis says angrily. "I mean, for fuck's sake. Look at the fucking filter on the photo! What is he, twelve?"

He begins tapping furiously on his phone.

"Tommo, what are you doing?" Liam asks in a warning tone. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Too late," Louis says cheerily. "Tweet sent."

There is a collective groan around the table.

"You silly little fart," Niall frowns. "What have you said?"

Louis clears his throat and smirks as he reads out his tweet.

"Remember when you were 12 and you used to think those Mac filters for your pictures were cool haha! Some people still do HA!"

"Tommo," Liam groans, closing his eyes.

"What? I didn't mention him," Louis grins. "It'll take him ten years to come up with something funny in response."

We'd managed to avoid the conversation about Zayn's collaboration with Naughty Boy, apart from a few brief comments when it was first revealed. Louis has taken it the hardest, and I've had a feeling he's been waiting for the right opportunity to let rip on either of them.

"What the fuck..." Louis breathes, a few minutes later.

"What?" Niall asks, looking up from his guitar.

"Fucking c-"

"Tommo!" Liam interrupts. "Whatever he's said, just leave it. Let's just concentrate on getting some inspiration, yeah?"

"'Some people can't even sing, but who's complaining when there's auto tune eh?'" Louis reads off his screen, and we all look at each other uncomfortably.

Louis' voice is one of his biggest insecurities. He knows it isn't always as strong as he wants it to be, and Naughty Boy has just hit him where it hurts. I can't help feeling a bit sorry for him.

"Just ignore him," Liam says after a moment. "He's trying to get a reaction out of you. Don't rise to it."

"Nah, come on, he's got to respond to that," Niall says, shaking his head at Liam. "If he ignores it, Naughty Boy will just think he's won." He looks at me. "I can't believe I'm referring to a grown man as 'Naughty Boy.'"

We all laugh at this, even Louis, who seems spurred on by Niall's comments.

"The fans are supporting you," Niall says, scrolling through his own feed on Twitter. "I love how they're always quick to defend us when shit hits the fan."

We smile at each other and nod in agreement.

Louis goes quiet for a moment, tapping on his phone, and then sets it down on the table with a satisfied smile.

"Oh God," I mutter. "What have you done now?"

"Just levelling the pitch," he smirks.

I open Twitter as Liam guffaws loudly, and see Louis' tweet has been retweeted all over my own timeline from the fans I follow.

@Louis_Tomlinson: @NaughtyBoyMusic Jesus forgot you were such an in demand producer .... How does it feel to be riding on the back of someone else's career ?

"You need too put a lid on it now," I tell him, but he rolls his eyes at me.

"Sorry Dad," he says sarcastically.

Everyone is engrossed in their phones, and a couple of minutes later there is a collective gasp from all of us as we see a tweet from Zayn.

@zaynmalik: @Louis_Tomlinson remember when you had a life and stopped making bitchy comments about mine ?

"Fuck, that's out of order, man," Niall mutters, as we all stare at Louis who is looking down at his phone.

"I'm going out for a smoke," he says, scraping his chair on the floor as he stands up.

Liam stands up too. "I'll come with you," he says, and they leave the room together, leaving me, Niall, John and Julian.

"Well, this is awkward," Niall says. "I can't believe Zayn. What's he playing at?"

"I don't know," I mutter. I feel shit on Louis' behalf over this. He took Zayn's departure the hardest out of all of us, and for Zayn to side publicly with that greasy-haired idiot over Louis must be difficult for him to take.

Julian starts playing a new song he's been writing with John and Jamie for us, and it's good, but neither Niall nor I are really listening. I'm pretty sure our thoughts are occupied with Louis and Zayn.

"The slimeball's replied," Louis says, entering the room noisily with Liam.

"Just ignore him," I tell him. "Listen to this song Julian's just played us - Drag Me Down."

"What did he say?" Niall asks, picking up his phone again and ignoring me.

"'Yeah how does it feel mate? You've been doing that for the last five years... I've got Emeli Sande and Sam Smith on my CV,'" Louis quotes, and Niall and I make pained faces at each other.

"He's really trying to go for the jugular isn't he," Niall muses. "What a cock. You're far more successful than he is, and he knows it. That's why he saying this shit."

"Oh my God," Liam laughs, and we all look at him. "'Hashtag Tomlinson slays again' is trending on Twitter!"

"Brilliant!" Louis cackles. "Well, if the fans want a show, they've got one!"

"No," I groan. "Louis, just leave it. We need to get on with this writing."

"Says Mister Grumpy who barely said two words yesterday," Louis retorts without looking up from his phone.

"What are you saying back?" Niall asks, also staring at his phone. "Fuckin' hell, these fans are laying into Naughty Boy and Zayn, too. They're savage. You've got some good support there, Tommo."

"I've just put, 'good for you, well done. I think we've done alright in terms of sales and I've happened to write on most. Keep trying,'" Louis replies.

"Great, well done," I say flatly. "Now can that be an end to it? Think of the band's image for once, will you?"

I just know Louis is going to get a bollocking over this, as he always does over his public Twitter feuds. It's never good publicity for the band, and he's getting a reputation for being an arse.

He grits his teeth and says nothing.

My Twitter notification sounds, and I look at my phone, only for my heart to leap when I realise it's Jess who has tweeted:

@zaynmalik The line is a dot to you #fiveyearsoffriendship #dontforgetwhereyoubelong

"For fuck's sake!" I growl furiously, and they all look at me. "Fucking Jess is getting involved now," I snap. "That's all we fucking need."

"What's her Twitter name?" Louis asks excitedly. "Wait - is it jessie underscore braddy?"

"Yeah, how do you know?" I ask.

"It's been retweeted by the One Direction fan accounts," he says gleefully, and I sigh in frustration as I refresh her tweet and see it has several hundred retweets already, and it was only posted a few minutes ago.

"I'm just going on her profile now," Louis grins. "Fucking hell - she's just tweeted me!"

"What?" I ask quickly, going onto her profile.

@Louis_Tomlinson @NaughtyBoyMusic Tommo for the win! #TOMLINSONSLAYSAGAIN This world needs more Tommo sass x

I can't stop the jealousy rising in me as I read and reread her words. Why is she publicly supporting Louis? Doesn't she know how this will look to the press? The fans? The world? Fucking hell.

I slam my phone down on the table as Louis whoops with glee, beaming at his phone before looking up and beaming around the table at us.

"I fucking love it when the fans get involved," he grins. "It fucking makes my day."

I don't reply to this, and pick up my phone again.

If she carries on goading him, he's going to carry on tweeting. He needs to stop. She needs to stop. They both need to fucking stop.

Stop winding Louis up, I text her, furiously.

Seriously, she's going to cause a media storm with this. Why is she so interested in Louis anyway? Why can't she leave us the fuck alone after shagging some random the other night?

She texts me back straight away.

I'm not. He doesn't follow me. How are you? xxx

"I can't believe your Jess tweeted me," Louis is saying. "That's sick. She has like thirty thousand followers. It's nice she's showing her support publicly."

I snort in response at his smug face, and send another angry message to Jess.

He doesn't need to. 30,000 other people do and it's gone viral. You're making him worse

And this has nothing to do with jealousy, before you all jump to the wrong conclusions. Jess hasn't thought this through. She's been linked to me several times, and now she's practically making public statements supporting Louis' behaviour. Not only will Louis get in trouble for his tweets, it will affect us as a band if we're linked to pathetic cat fights on social media.

I'm not the only person tweeting about it, she texts back. If you're that concerned about whipping up a media frenzy, tell your 24 million followers to stop tweeting. Don't single me out.

No kisses on the end of that text. I feel suddenly fearful.

"I think it deserves a retweet, and maybe a follow into the bargain," Louis is saying, sideglancing me, but I'm too wrapped up in my text argument with Jess to pay proper attention.

"You like playing with fire don't you," Liam breathes, before turning to look at me.

"What?" I ask.

"Louis has just retweeted and followed Jess," he explains.

"What?" I bark.

"Chill your bean, Harold," Louis mutters as he taps away on his screen.

"What are you doing now?" I ask, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"Nothing public, just a DM to thank her for her support," he replies.

"Who?" I ask, but I know who. He's fucking messaging Jess.

I hate this. I fucking hate it.

"What are you saying?" I demand, when he doesn't answer, but he smiles mysteriously.

"Never you mind," he says, putting his phone on the table and tapping his nose with one finger.

His phone alerts keep sounding, and he smirks as he's typing, every so often casting me a sideways glance which I steadfastly ignore. I'm dying to know if he's texting Jess, but I refuse to ask out of principle.

"Call her," he says, as we wrap up our jamming session and stand up to leave.

"You keep your nose out," I mutter.

The last thing I need is Louis flirting with her and flaunting it in my face. He knows just the right buttons to press, and I'm not in the mood for his shit on top of my fucking heartbreak.