(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 2. For One More Day)

I throw my all into psyching myself up for the Horsens concert, keeping myself going by focussing on the job in hand. I push the news reports of my night with Sara to the back of my mind, refusing to think about them. I know what everyone is thinking about me. They're thinking I'm a piece of shıt for cheating on Jess. We never even confirmed our relationship, but the sightings of us in London, Cambridge and LA over the past few months were enough to convince the entire world we are an item. So naturally, I have to face the consequences of letting her down so publicly.

She has remained silent throughout, and this makes my guilt burn harder. I don't deserve her silence, albeit I am grateful for it. I want it; I need it. Therefore I hate myself for the relief I feel because of it. I can't win.

Just before the show my old school friend Jack messages me and says he is in Oslo on the nineteenth of June, and asks if I want to meet up. I don't feel like it, but the rational part of me knows I will feel better if I have a distraction from everything. I offer him tickets to the show, and a backstage pass, and arrange for us to catch up for lunch beforehand.

Karen rings me as I am in the car on the way to CASA Arena and I realise we haven't yet arranged a time to meet tomorrow.

"Hi," I answer.

"How are you?" she asks. There's no mistaking the tone of concern in her voice. It brings a lump to my throat immediately. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Fine," I answer thickly.

There is a pause. "I don't want to pry, Harry, but you don't sound fine," she says.

"Well, let's see," I begin, my voice trembling, "my relationship is over, I'm not the person I thought I was, the world thinks I'm a man-whore and my job is effectively being made redundant in nine months' time. Sorry if I'm not wearing a grass skirt and dancing the hula, but I'm not really in the mood."

She sighs. "The media will be bored of the story soon enough," she offers. "It's one of those things you've just got to ride out."

"And what then?" I ask, the wobble in my voice becoming more pronounced. "Once they're bored of me and move onto the next carcass to pick apart, do I just magically heal and forget it all happened?"

"You move on from it," she responds. "You've dealt with this sort of thing before, Harry. I would have thought you would have developed a thicker skin by now."

"And Jess?" I demand. "The band? My future? I just move on from all of that too?"

There is more silence, and I can tell Karen is more than a little out of her depth. She doesn't do feelings.

"I thought you said you didn't love Jess," she says eventually.

"I don't," I say, furiously.

"Well you're doing a pretty good job of convincing me otherwise."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"I mean, you're ranting and raving about someone you're adamant you don't care about!" she finally snaps. "What really happened in New York? There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?!"

I blink a couple of times. "I've already told you what happened. I was high as a kite, and hammered. Sara made a pass at me, I didn't say no. What else is there?"

"You haven't told me why you did it," she states, bluntly.

"I don't know why I did it. It was a dıck move. I'm obviously a dıck. End of."

"You're not a dıck, Harry," she says, and I can hear the frown in her voice. "You're anything but."

"I am," I argue, miserably. "I ruined the best thing in my life. I deserve everything that's being said about me."

"What were you thinking?" she sighs in exasperation.

"I don't know!" I exclaim, and it sounds suspiciously like a bratty wail. It reminds me of the tone of voice Jess uses when she's having a row with her brother. This thought makes my chest ache.

"You must know!" she presses, and I get the feeling she is pushing me, but I'm not sure what the end game is.

"It just happened!" I protest. "I don't know why... don't you think if I did I would tell you?! It goes against everything I believe in! I'm not a liar or a cheat, but I woke up naked next to someone who isn't my girlfriend, so guess what?! Turns out I am everything I despise, and more!"

My cheeks are wet with tears. I hadn't even noticed I was crying. I've turned into a complete wuss. A dramatic wuss, at that. It's pathetic.

"Harry," she says softly.

"Don't," I choke. "I'm fed up of talking about it. Jess hates me, the media hates me, the world hates me. I'll just have to get used to it."

Woe is me. Fuckįng hell.

"They don't hate you, Harry-"

"I'm finished talking about it," I cut her off, wiping my nose on my sleeve. Gross.

"If you just get in touch with Jess -"

"Karen, leave it," I interrupt, firmly, having got my emotions under control again, and she sighs.

"Fine. I'm not trying to interfere. And leave the media to me. I'll do what I can to prevent any more intrusion."

"Good luck with that," I mutter, bitterly. "What time do you want me to come to the office tomorrow?"

"Um, I'm just waiting on confirmation that my diary is clear," she says uncertainly. "I'll text you with a time, OK?"

"OK," I mumble, and she rings off.

When I arrive at the stadium I get changed into a white long-sleeved top and black jeans, and zone out while Lou and Lottie do my hair.

"Alright?" Louis greets me, slipping onto a stool next to my chair as Lou scrunches some sort of salt product into the ends.

"Mmmh," I mumble.

"You spoken to Karen?"

"Mmmh," I mutter again.

"Me too," he says. "She's stressing about you."

"What do you mean?" I groan.

He looks down at his lap.

"H, no one can work out what the fucķ you're doing."

I twist my face in confusion as I look up at him. Lou watches us in the mirror.

"You're miserable, and you won't admit you're pining for Jess."

"What the f- I'm not a dog!" I snap.

"You're a mess," he says.

"Speak for yourself!" I retort, childishly.

"I'm not the one with the permanent wobbly lip," he points out. "I'm not getting at you," he sighs, when I throw him an indignant scowl. "I'm trying to help. You're blatantly devastated over this whole fųck up with Jess, and you need to sort it out with her."

"I really don't," I mumble. "You're as bad as Karen. I wish everyone would just leave me alone. Even Mum and Gemma keep wanting to talk about it but I don't. I just want to forget it ever happened. Move on, Karen said. Well if everyone stopped going on about it maybe I could."

"Point taken," Louis concedes, holding his hands up in surrender and standing up. "Just don't hate us for looking out for you."

The way he makes this comment alerts my suspicions.

"What have you and Karen been saying about me?" I ask.

"She wanted to know what happened in New York. She reckons you can't have just cheated without good reason."

"I'm so fed up of going over this," I moan.

"I told her I don't get it, and I can't understand why you dumped Jess after she said she'd take you back," Louis continues.

"What did you tell her that for?!" I hiss fiercely, and Lou tuts in annoyance as she pulls my shoulders back into position.

"Um, because it's the truth?" he sasses.

"Is nothing fucķing sacred?!" I snap.

"Nope," he replies with a shrug.

"When did this conversation take place?" I demand.

"The other day," he answers, vaguely, and as Lou stands back to admire her handiwork I stand up from the chair and walk across to the other side of the room, furious that even amongst my bandmates I am the subject of idle gossip.

Lou follows me over and hugs me from behind, squeezing my chest tightly. "You ok darling?" she asks gently.

"I really, honestly, don't know," I murmur, and she tightens her grip, pulling me close against her.

"If you want to talk you know where I am," she whispers. "But I understand if you don't."

"Thanks," I whisper back, and she pats my hand gently before releasing me and returning to her station.

"Louis!" she calls. "Come on, your turn."

I flop down on the sofa and watch them absently, trying to get into concert mode. Whatever else, I need to put on a good show tonight. My professional reputation depends on it - all eyes will be on me, to see how I fare in front of the crowd after the recent media coverage. I can't let them think anything is wrong. The show must go on.

And like the showman I am, I deliver. The concert is a roaring success, even if my mind keeps wandering to Jess every few minutes. I indulge my sad memories by screaming 'Oh baby yeah!' at the crowd and making them scream it back, in the vain hope that the sheer volume will drown out Jess's embarrassed protests from inside my head as I remember grabbing her hand and putting it on my dicķ, the morning after I finally told her I loved her.

This causes more pain as that moment of closeness comes back to me, and I'm glad when we jump into the next song and I can lose myself again.

I find myself wondering how long this pain will last, and wondering if she misses me like I miss her. I wonder what she would say if I called her, just to hear her voice. I could even do it anonymously from a withheld number, and she would never know.

Bloody hell, what's the matter with me? I'm not a stalker.

"Harry!" a voice yells in my earpiece and I jump just in time to sing my line of the song, my heart pounding at the realisation I almost missed my cue in front of a stadium full of thousands of fans. That would have been all over Twitter in seconds.

Story of my life.

Literally.

---***---

I'm sorry for the false alarm with the accidental update again! I hurried this chapter through to make up for it though :))) I'm enjoying writing Harry's POV again - I've missed it! Hope you are all enjoying it too xxx