(No Control - 72. Last First Kiss, first part)

Our next show is Wednesday 10th June in Vienna. I've been trying to push all thoughts of my screaming match with Louis to the back of my mind and not think about it, but I decide to call him and apologise properly before the show so there is no awkwardness. He is surprisingly forgiving, and mutters an apology to me too for the things he said in the heat of the moment, before he resumes his usual piss-taking about my relationship with Jess and we agree not to mention our argument ever again.

I'm relieved we are back on good terms, and the Vienna show runs smoothly and without a hitch. I remind the boys I am flying straight to New York afterwards, and am met with low-key confused looks between the three of them.

"What's the craic with this night out?" Niall asks bluntly. "It's a long way to go for just one night."

"I know, but I haven't seen Jeff in ages," I reply.

"You'll have all summer to see him," Louis points out. "I would have thought you'd be anxious to cram in every last second with Jess before we head over to the US."

"I know," I sigh. "That's the only downside. But I really fancy a break, and some time to myself."

"Is everything alright with you and Jess?" Liam asks quietly once Louis and Niall are distracted.

"Yeah, it's going great," I beam. "Couldn't be better, seriously."

"OK that's good," he smiles back. "I'm pleased for you, mate."

.......

I fly straight to New York after the gig, on the jet with the squeaky seat. I'm feeling a bit deflated at the thought of being away from Jess until the weekend, but I am genuinely looking forward to seeing Jeff and having a good night out. I stay awake as long as I can on the flight, and when we land I go straight to my hotel, send quick texts to Mum, Jess, Jeff and Nadine to let them know I've arrived, and then zonk out on the bed.

Luckily I've remembered to set my alarm, and I am up, showered and dressed by late morning. My car arrives to pick me up to drive me to Nadine's hotel where I am meeting her for lunch. I see a text from Jess while I'm in the car that simply says, I love you xx so I send a guilty one back:

Love you too. Going for lunch with Jeff, I'll ring you later on xxx

I hate myself for lying to her. I can't wait to get home so I can confess everything. I'm dreading that whole conversation because I know it isn't going to go well, but it can't be worse than the guilt I'm carrying around. I haven't even done anything wrong, really; it's not like I've cheated. I just hate being dishonest.

When I arrive at the hotel there are no paps, because they haven't even been alerted to the fact I am not in the UK like the rest of the boys. There is something oddly satisfying about slipping through the pap net and turning up somewhere unexpected, like, surprise!!

I am welcomed by the maître d' and am taken to a table in the corner. I sit with my back to the room, wondering if anyone has recognised me. (I'm not trying to be cocky - I just don't want pictures of me having lunch with Nadine all over Twitter before I've told Jess.) It's unlikely in a high-end establishment like this, but you just never know.

"Hi, Harry."

I look up and see Nadine shyly approaching the table, wearing a soft smile. I stand up to greet her and give her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. I half expect to feel something, but I don't, and she sits down opposite me at our table.

"You look great," she says, smiling coyly at me. "Black has always suited you."

"Uh, thanks. You look nice too," I offer, lamely.

I feel uncomfortable. Not because I feel I can't compliment a woman who isn't my girlfriend, but because I can tell by the look in her eye that she is flirting with me already, and I feel disloyal to Jess.

The waitress comes over and takes our drinks orders, and I stick to mineral water.

"How's life been treating you?" she asks once we're alone again.

"Really great," I say, enthusiastically. "I've just had two months off in between touring, and we've just started the European leg. We'll be in the States most of the summer."

"You're looking really well," she says, dipping her head and looking up at me through her eyelashes. I know this gesture. It's what girls do when they're trying to looking innocent yet sexy. Jess is always doing it and I fucking fall for it every single time.

I feel a smile break on my face when I think about Jess. I miss her.

"Thanks," I reply. "Full of compliments today, aren't you?"

"Just saying what I see," she fires back.

"So how have things been with you?" I ask, and as our drinks arrive she starts telling me about her friend in the eating disorder clinic. We place our food orders, and then she goes on to tell me how stressful it has been for everyone, and how her friend was told if she didn't start eating properly she would be dead in two weeks.

"Oh my God," I murmur. "That is terrible."

"Yeah, it's been heartbreaking," Nadine nods. "But she's making slow progress. It was a real wake-up call for her. Her parents are at breaking point over it, they're worried sick. It's been hard enough for me watching my friend go through it; I can't imagine how difficult it must be for them."

I nod seriously. "I'm sure they're thankful for your support, though," I put in.

She shrugs. "It's what friends do." She looks up and catches my eye, and gives me a soft smile. "I've missed this."

Uh oh.

I feel my eyes widen slightly in alarm.

"Sounds like you've been having a rough time," I remark, as though she hasn't spoken.

"Yeah, you could say that," she smiles. "But somehow things suddenly feel a bit brighter since you walked into the room."

"Errr..."

"You always had the ability to do that. To brighten a room just by being in it."

"Umm... thanks," I say uncomfortably, shifting position in my seat. I'm trying to think of a way to divert this conversation, but my mind is blank. Years of media training is failing me at the most crucial moment. Typical.

"I miss you, Harry," she says quietly, and I have no choice but to look over at her. "I'm sorry I let you go."

She reaches across the table and puts her hand over mine. I stay still for a second so as not to embarrass her by flinching away, and then casually remove my hand and run my fingers through my hair.

"Well, it's in the past," I say, as casually as I can.

The tension is broken by our meals arriving. I've never been so glad to see a chicken salad sandwich in my life. I busy myself with inspecting my food, and then grab it as neatly as I can and take a bite.

"Does it have to be?" she asks, once the waitress has left us alone again.

It takes me an awkward thirty seconds to chew my mouthful and swallow it before I can answer her.

"Does it have to be what?" I ask, wiping my mouth on my napkin.

Please don't say what I think you're going to say.

"Does it have to be in the past?" she asks softly.

Fuck.

"Well, I think it's in the past for a reason," I reply, as diplomatically as I can.

"Yeah, because I was a idiot and dumped you," she says bluntly, and this irritates me a little. She may have been the one who ended it, but I am more than happy she did.

"It was the right decision," I shrug. "You didn't trust me, and a relationship is nothing without trust. I totally get that."

She pauses, looking down at her plate and I take another big bite of my butty. "What if I think it was the wrong decision? What if... what if I think I made a huge mistake and I regret it every day?"

The silence as I hastily chew my food is lengthy and awkward again. It reminds me of the day I met Jess's family and had the nightmare with the Cottage Pie.

"Life's too short to have regrets," I tell her.

"Life's too short not to grab every opportunity you can," she shoots back.

"True," I concede. "But don't look back. Always look forward."

Why are we trading clichés?

"I want to look forward," she says earnestly. "I want to look to the future. And I'd really like you to be in it. The future, I mean."

"Um... right," I reply, nervously.

"I've missed you so much, Harry," she says softly, looking into my eyes. "I've been such an idiot. I've regretted ending things with you for so long. I'm so sorry for hurting you."

"It's fine," I say breezily, waving my hand in the air. "I'm cool. I've moved on. I think everything happens for a reason."

"That's just it, though," she says reaching for my hand again and curling her fingers around mine. "I haven't. I haven't moved on."

"Umm..."

"I think you about you all the time," she says, looking up at me hopefully. "I'd really like another chance. I'd like to try and make things work with us."

"Deen," I begin awkwardly, gently pulling my hand away. "I'm really sorry, but that isn't going to happen. I'm with someone else and I'm really happy. I'm so sorry. I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to rekindle things between me and you."

She says nothing for a moment, but her eyes go a bit glassy, and she looks down at her plate, biting her lip.

"OK," she says in a whisper.

I take another bite of my sandwich in an attempt to keep things normal, and out of the corner of my eye I see her surreptitiously brush at her eye with her hand.

"Oh - Deen - please don't get upset," I mumble around my food. I wipe my hands on my napkin and reach across the table for her hand again. "I'm really not worth shedding tears over, honestly."

"I think you are," she sniffs. "It's my own fault for letting you go. I was so stupid. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologise," I say, uncomfortably. "Honestly. We're friends, aren't we? That's cool."

"I don't want to be just friends," she says, her lip trembling. "I - I think I'm in love with you, Harry."

Well, fuck.

"Oh," I mutter, pulling my hand away again.

"You told me you loved me," she reminds me, looking up into my eyes. A tear trickles down her cheek. Fuck, this is so awkward.

"I know, I thought I was, at the time," I try and explain. "But you didn't feel the same, and that's OK, y'know? I got over it. It's fine."

The humiliation still burns, but whatever.

"So you don't still feel the same way?" she asks sadly.

"I think you're a great girl," I tell her. "You're beautiful, and funny, and great fun to be around. But I love my girlfriend. I don't want to hurt you, but I have to honest with you."

"You love someone else?" she asks, a bit too loud, and a businessman at the next table looks up at us with a frown.

Fuck. The last thing I need right now is a crowd of onlookers.

"Shh... yes," I tell her, quietly. "I'm sorry for hurting you, but it's the truth."

She presses her lips together and tears start pouring down her cheeks. I stare at her in alarm, unsure what to do. Girls like hugs when they're upset, but somehow I don't think it will help to give her the wrong idea.

"Do you want to swap places?" I ask, leaning forward and lowering my voice further. I'm conscious that she is facing the whole of the restaurant, and everyone can see her crying.

She nods wordlessly and I get up out of my chair and stand to the side to let her slip past me. We sit down again and already I can see a couple more people looking over at us. They don't seem to be looking in a hey-it's-that-bloke-from-One-Direction kind of way, it's more of a why-is-that-girl-crying-in-a-five-star-restaurant kind of way. I hastily hand her a napkin and she puts her face in her hands.

I don't know what else to do apart from watch her uncomfortably.

"Are you OK?" I ask tentatively.

"Do I look OK?" she snaps.

OK, wrong thing to say.

"Sorry," I apologise. "I just don't know what to say."

"You never do, Harry," she snipes, dabbing the corner of her eyes with the napkin.

Hold on - how did we go from 'I think I'm in love with you' to 'you never know what to say!'?

I stay quiet, my hands shoved awkwardly in my lap. I avoid looking at the other diners, in case one of them shouts at me as well. Do I take another bite of my sandwich? Maybe not - I would have to reach over to it, as her salad is now in front of me since we changed seats.

"How can you be in love with her?" she asks after a moment. "You can't have been with her that long."

"A few months," I answer. Well, on and off.

"Who is she?"

"No one you know," I reply.

"How do you know? I know a lot of people."

"I know you don't know her."

"How?"

She isn't going to let this drop.

"She isn't famous," I say, a little impatiently.

There is a stunned silence.

"No wonder you wanted to keep it quiet," she says eventually, with a trace of a smirk on her face.

"I'm not keeping it quiet in the way you mean. We just haven't gone public yet," I explain, in a low voice.

"I'm not surprised, if she's a nobody."

Instantly my back is up. "She isn't a nobody," I say, defensively. "She just isn't known to the public."

Nadine rolls her eyes. "It'll never last."

"To be blunt, that's not really any of your business," I point out.

"Oh come on, Harry," she says, with a quiet sniff. "We all know high profile people like you can't date nobodies. It'll never work. She won't get it."

"Stop calling her a nobody," I say, as calmly as I can.

"Why? That's what she is, and you know it. That's why you're getting defensive."

"I'm not getting defensive," I snap.

I'd forgotten how well Nadine can push my buttons.

"Does she know you're here with me?" she asks, with a sly smile, and I am wrong-footed by this question.

"Also none of your business," I respond, less confidently.

"That's a no, then."

I decide to ignore her attempts at winding me up, and press my lips together and look away.

"I can't believe you're walking away from us for someone you've known five minutes, who has no experience of your lifestyle," she sighs, looking away.

"I'm not 'walking away from us,'" I argue. "We were over ages ago. I've moved on, I'm happy. And I want you to be happy too."

"Then give us another chance," she says, looking back at me again. "You must remember how good we were together. We were incredible. And we were hot in bed."

I clear my throat as I feel heat in my cheeks.

"See, you know we were," she smiles. "You're remembering it now, I can tell."

"Nadine," I say, firmly. "You need to stop this. We're over and we're not getting back together. Ever."

Did I just quote Taylor Swift? Fuck.

Well at least that one wasn't written about me.

"She'll never be able to understand you like I can, Harry. How can she possibly?"

"She understands me far better than you ever did," I retort, losing patience. "She knows me inside and out. She just gets me. She knows what I'm thinking and feeling without even having to ask!"

I didn't mean to throw this in her face quite so callously, but she is winding me up and I am (unfortunately) rising to it. I sigh and rub my hand over my face and when I look back at her, Nadine is crying quietly again. I glance nervously around the room, but thankfully no one is watching.

"It's fine, nobody's watching us," Nadine says loudly, causing a young woman to look up.

"Nadine!" I hiss. "What the hell's got into you?! You're acting totally out of character."

"I'm sorry," she says, her lip trembling again. "I'm really sorry. I'm just upset and missing you, and it's made worse by the fact you've bombed me off for some plain-Jane."

"Look," I say, curtly. "I won't sit here and listen to you speak about Jess like that. I'm in love with her, and it hurts me to hear you slate her like this when you don't even know her."

More tears. Fucking hell. I feel like someone is going to jump out with a camera any second and tell me this is all a wind up. This behaviour is so unlike Nadine. It's fucking draining.

"It hurts me to hear you say you're in love with someone else," she wails.

"We're over!" I protest. "We've been over for months! You dumped me! I don't get where this is coming from!"

"No, you never do," she snipes again. "If in doubt, play dumb and abdicate all responsibility."

"I think you need to calm down," I say, gently. "Let me take you up to your room. We can talk there privately."

"Heaven forbid anyone should witness you being an ass," she snaps.

"Actually, I'm more worried about how you are coming across right now," I reply as I stand up from the table and fish out my wallet to throw a few notes on the table to cover the bill.

She stands up too, and I throw the waitress an apologetic smile as we weave our way towards the door of the restaurant and into the lobby.

"Thank you," I say to the maître d' as we leave. Nadine follows behind me and then slips in front of me and leads me towards the lifts. We stand in awkward silence until one arrives.

Once inside, Nadine hesitates and then turns to me, looking ashamed.

"I'm so sorry for causing a scene," she says miserably, her eyes filled with tears.

"It's fine," I say, as graciously as I can. "I just don't like the world knowing my business, you know that."

"I do know that. I'm sorry."

We arrive on the fifth floor and hurry along the corridor to her room. She heads straight to the bathroom and I wander over to the window and admire the view across New York City while I wait for her to return.

"Are you OK?" I ask when she reappears.

"Fine," she says. "I'm sorry for losing it before. I was just taken aback that you've fallen in love with someone else so soon after you claimed to be in love with me."

"Our relationship was very, uh, passionate," I say, trying to be diplomatic.

"You mean we couldn't keep our hands off each other," she grins.

"Well, yeah," I admit, and she laughs. "But it was based on lust. And it was great while it lasted, but I don't think it had any real foundation to it. We had a lot of fun. But what I have now is different."

"It can't be as hot as we were," she says wickedly.

"I don't feel comfortable talking about this."

"Why? Because you know I'm right?"

"No, because I don't want to hurt you by going on about how great things are and how loved up I am," I snap.

"So great that you didn't even tell her you were flying all the way here to meet up with me."

"Er, hang on," I interrupt. "I was coming over here anyway, to see Jeff. You said you wanted to see a friendly face, but all you've done since I got here is belittle my relationship with the person I am in love with, and try and get back together with me! You've crossed a line."

"I don't need to belittle your relationship. I told you already, it won't last. You need someone to keep you on your toes, someone who can play the game. Someone who is used to using the media to their advantage like you do. Someone who looks damn hot on your arm and can raise your profile in the US like you want."

"You've just proved exactly why we would never have worked," I tell her. "Everything you just said isn't me at all. It's how you want me to be. But I'm not that person. I want to be with someone who loves me for the person I was before I became famous; the person that I still am, underneath.

"I want to lie on the sofa at my mum's house with Jess, watching films and eating icecream. I want Gemma to get out my baby pictures, and I want Jess to squeal over every single one and tease me about how cute I looked and how she can imagine our kids looking just like that. I want to drive to her flat after a show and cuddle up with her in her bed talking about what Niall said on stage that made me laugh, while everyone else goes out partying until the small hours.

"I don't need a trophy girlfriend - I've got the most beautiful girl I could ever imagine. She's beautiful inside and out, and I love her so much it makes my heart hurt sometimes. I'm not in this relationship for what I can get out of it. I'm in it because we make each other happy, and that's all I really want out of life. If I achieve that, I have achieved success. Fame and money count for nothing unless you have love and happiness, and right now I have both.

"Most people would kill to have the type of opportunities I've been given, and don't get me wrong, I'm not about to jack in my career for a girl. I'm lucky enough to be in a brilliant position right now and I wouldn't swap it for anything. But Jess gets it, and she supports me in everything I do. I feel like I've hit the jackpot with her, and there is nothing on this earth that could make me risk what we have."

Nadine is shaking her head. "You like to think that's who you are, but you're not that person anymore, Harry," she laughs. "You're Harry Styles from One Direction. You'll never be just Harry ever again."

"You're wrong," I tell her. "I'll always be just Harry. And the people that can see just Harry are the people I keep close to me. That's why Jess is by my side, not you."

Oops. That was mean. I didn't intend for it to come out quite like that.

"She isn't by your side now though, is she!" Nadine says furiously, wiping tears from her cheeks again. "She's thousands of miles away!"

"Yes, and she trusts me enough to let me out of her sight for five minutes," I snap.

"Only because she doesn't know where you are," Nadine points out again.

"I love her, and will never give her a reason not to trust me," I argue. "I came here to see you because I thought you needed a friend. I was wrong to think I could be that friend."

I start to walk towards the door.

"Wait!" she calls, desperately, and I reluctantly turn around.

"I'm sorry," she says, pleadingly. "I'm so sorry. Please don't leave. Don't leave it like this."

I hesitate.

"Please, Harry. I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch because I'm upset and I'm taking it out on you."

"I don't deserve what you've just been saying about me," I say, bluntly.

"No, I know. I was just being petty because I was hurt. I'm sorry."

I sigh. "Fine. Whatever."

Life's too short to hold grudges. Even against psycho ex-girlfriends.

Her lip trembles again and I close my eyes in silent frustration at the latest batch of tears. Reluctantly I cross the room again and give her a hug.

"I'm sorry," she sobs into my chest. "I'm a mess at the moment. This bulimia stuff has been quite an ordeal, and on top of that I missed you, and I had all these regrets... Please don't tell anyone about this, will you?"

"Course not," I reply. (I'll tell Jess, obviously, but Nadine doesn't have to know that.)

I hate being the reason for someone else's misery like this. It makes me anxious.

I rub her back awkwardly while her tears soak into my top.

"Sorry," she says eventually, lifting her head and looking up at me. Her face is serious all of a sudden. If this were a film, it'd probably be written into the script that we'd kiss. She moves towards me slightly and I quickly let go of her and turn away, and she clears her throat nervously. I pretend I didn't know she was about to make a move on me. I don't want to embarrass her, or make the situation any more awkward.

"It's fine," I say brightly. "I really have to be going."

"Oh yeah, you have plans with Jeff, right?"

She laughs nervously and sniffs.

"Yep, sure do."

I sound so jolly, it's unnerving.

"Where are you going tonight?" she asks.

"Just for some drinks," I tell her, and we start discussing the bars Jeff has planned for us. She knows the places we are heading to, and recommends the cocktails in one of them. I think of the first night I met Jess, and my abysmal attempts at cocktails at Grimmy's friend's house party. I smile to myself.

I really need a Jess cuddle.

"I really must get going," I say again, and she walks me to the door.

"I'm sorry for being a total screw up," she apologises.

"We're OK," I shrug. "Friends?"

She hesitates, and then nods. "Sure. Friends."

I give her a brief smile, say a hasty goodbye and then slip out the door. I call my driver on my way down to the lobby and he tells me he will be outside in two minutes. When I am safely in the car I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. I feel mentally drained after those rows with Nadine. I want to call Jess but I need to compose myself or she will know straight away that something is up, and we need to talk about this face to face.

I sigh and try to rid myself of this anxiety all the way back to the hotel. But there is a knot in my stomach that just won't go away.