(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 22 - Escape From The City)

I don't reply to Jess's message after that - to be honest I'm overwhelmed by disappointment and my mood plummets. I spend the following day hanging out with Kendall but I can tell that even she is reaching the end of her tether with my irritability as she becomes snappy towards the end of the evening and heads off home earlier than expected. Jeff occupies me the day after and we spend the afternoon at his house lounging by the pool with Glenne, and then on Monday when I speak to Mum she tells me she thinks Jess left some earrings in the bathroom the last time we were at home, and that Gemma has offered to text Jess and return them.

My heart gives a lurch at the thought of Gemma seeing Jess, and immediately my head is filled with ideas of things to say, questions to ask, messages to pass on to Jess through Gemma.

"Is that OK with you?" Mum is asking.

"What? Yeah, yeah of course," I reply. "When will she be speaking to her?"

"I don't know, she didn't say," Mum says. "I presume you haven't heard from Jess since the other day?" (I already told her about Jess's text.)

"No," I mumble. "I don't know what else to do. She seemed to be thawing a little, but then she shut me down again. I don't know what I did wrong."

Apart from cheat on her and break her heart; I know, I know.

"Just give her time, sweetheart," she says softly. "She's probably still angry and upset. Just take things slowly and give her space."

"She's got five thousand, three hundred and seventy eight miles of space," I grumble, and there is a beat of silence before Mum asks, "Have you measured the distance?!"

"I may have been on Google Maps," I admit.

"Just try and put it to the back of your mind for a while," she advises. "I'm worried that all this is making you ill. Have you been eating properly? Sleeping well at night?"

"I'm alright," I sigh.

"I don't think you are," she says gently. "I'm looking forward to getting you home in August and cooking you a few good meals."

"Yeah I'm looking forward to that too," I reply, with sincerity. The thought of my own comfy bed at Mum's house is far more appealing than a lonely, empty house in London. It will be good to hide from the world for a few days. 

"Will you be flying into Heathrow or Manchester when you come home?" she asks.

"I haven't arranged it yet," I reply. 

"Come straight here," she almost begs. "Spend the entire week with us - just let me look after you."

It's really tempting.

"I probably will," I tell her. "I'll speak to Grimmy and the others in London to see what's happening and then I'll book my flight."

...

I try and follow Mum's advice and attempt to occupy myself with other things over the next couple of weeks. I resist the urge to interrogate Gemma over the conversation I know she has had with Jess over the earrings, instead deciding to have faith in my sister and believe that if there was anything to report, she would tell me.

We complete the Canada shows (apart from one date coming up in Toronto after the break) and the subsequent US dates all have at least one rest day in between. It is stressful being around Liam as his arguments with Sophia intensify, and Louis is trying to work things out with Briana for the future, in between organising hosting a ball in London for a kids' charity called Believe In Magic (a PR stunt organised by Modest to promote Louis as a good potential father) so he spends a large portion of his time backstage on the phone to his solicitor and Modest. Niall keeps me company on the Playstation, the ping pong table and in the gym, and keeps the conversation neutral and away from women - except when he is winding me up over Megan, the air hostess. One particular source of amusement for him is when he catches me comforting her on a flight because her mum has been taken ill, and teases me mercilessy when I get up out of my seat to speak to the head stewardess to request that Megan has a few days off to spend with her family, on full pay. I get a tearful yet grateful smile from Megan, and a crude gesture from Niall that I won't divulge, but that seems to involve the idea of Megan thanking me in a rather inventive way.

We hand out tickets for our Minneapolis show to fans waiting at the security gates when we arrive, and spend a few minutes taking pictures and signing stuff. When I first get out of the car I catch sight of a girl who looks like Jess, and for a second my heart comes to a complete stop before I realise it isn't her, and it is just wishful thinking. Before I can dwell on this too much we are pulled into a meeting backstage with Gillian from Modest and told that Zayn will be signing a deal with RCA Records in the next couple of days.

Judging by the stunned looks on the others' faces, it is news to all of us.

"So let me get this straight," Louis begins. "The little twerp left the band supposedly because Perrie was pecking his head and he wanted to take time out of the spotlight, but four months later he's signing a fucking solo deal after leaving us in the lurch only two months into a world tour?"

"That's pretty much the gist of it," Gillian nods. "I'm sorry to spring this on you. He's signing on Thursday. And we're going to release Drag Me Down on Friday."

"Fuckin' hell," Niall breathes. "We haven't even filmed the video yet!"

"Seventh of August," Gillian replies. "Keep the date free."

"Is Ben directing it?" Liam asks, referring to Ben Winston who is known for directing our most recent videos, and Gillian nods.

"That'll be why they wanted us to get the vocals laid down quickly," Liam says suddenly. "Remember when John said he thought something was about to go down? Modest must have known about this for a while and wanted it mixed and produced, and ready to go."

Zayn is the topic of discussion for the rest of the day; everything else is put to one side. Although we had an inkling that something like this would happen after the time Zayn spent in the studio with Naughty Boy, it still comes as a shock that after leaving us (and the fans) in the lurch he has so publicly backtracked and is launching a solo career.

"I wonder what the fans will say," Liam muses. "I bet some will be pretty devastated, particularly those who were expecting to see him on this tour."

"I think people will be shocked, but overall I think he'll do well," I offer. "He had a huge following in the band, and I think they'll be loyal to him."

The others murmur their assent, and the conversation moves to the release of Drag Me Down (which to our glee will be dropped on Friday without any warning) and the video shoot on the seventh, before we are called for soundcheck.

....

I am tempted to text Jess and tip her off about Drag Me Down before I remember she wants nothing to do with me, but once the idea has taken seed in my head I can't seem to shift it, and in the end I succumb to the desire to contact her a couple of hours after we release it:

We released Drag Me Down today x  

I know that's a shit, boring text, but I decide it is better to keep things short and sweet, to avoid giving her the opportunity to brush me off again so harshly. I am shocked and elated when my phone beeps only a minute later with a reply.

So I believe. Congrats. Hope it gets to number one.  

No kiss. But it's a positive tone to the message... isn't it? Or am I looking for something that isn't there? 

When did I turn into a woman with my over-analysis of every text?! Fucking hell.

Me too, I reply straight away. Don't suppose you've changed your mind about meeting up for coffee next week? x  

All chill has been abandoned, as you can see. But I don't even have time to get my hopes up.

The message is read immediately, and the bubbles dance for a second before her reply arrives:

Nope.

I should be used to the rejection, but it turns out I'm not.

...

"What's up with your face?" are the first words out of Louis' mouth when I board the jet at LAX on our way to Pittsburgh a couple of days later. It's not the first time he's asked me this.

"Don't start," I snap, flinging myself down in the seat furthest away from him. He immediately gets up and comes and sits opposite me.

"I'm not starting. I'm just asking. What's up?"

"Nothing."

"You're a shit liar, Harold."

"OK so take the hint. I don't want to talk," I reply, with a bluntness that even Louis can't miss.

"Yeah but you know where dwelling on shit gets you," he says meaningfully and then pauses, clearly waiting for me to acknowledge him. Eventually I look up and he continues, "in bed with Portuguese models." 

"Fuck off, Louis," I say irritably while he cackles mischievously, and I throw my cushion at him.

"Seriously - I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me what's bothering you. So it'll be a really long flight for you if you don't cooperate."

I growl in frustration and glare at him. "Fine. Jess is still giving me the cold shoulder."

"Still?" he says in disbelief, raising his eyebrows. "Wow. That's been like...," he trails off, presumably trying to remember when I first fuckeď my life up so royally.

"Seven weeks, give or take a day," I supply.

He looks at me sharply. "Seven weeks? Is that all? It feels more like seven months. Or maybe that's just because I've heard enough of you moaning and moping about over her to last me a lifetime."

I ignore this last comment, close my eyes and turn away from him to face the window.

"OK, OK, sorry," he chuckles. "So how have you left it with her?"

I hate myself for allowing Louis to draw me into this conversation because I know I will end up being the butt of his jokes at every opportunity, but somehow I can't help myself. I need a second opinion on this. I open my eyes and turn back to him.

"I asked her again to meet up for coffee. She said no."

He sucks in air through his teeth as though he is physically wounded by this, and shakes his head sadly. "Man, she is making you suffer."

"Tell me about it," I agree. "Short of just turning up at her flat when we fly home next week, I don't know what else I can do."

Louis smiles triumphantly. "Well you've just given yourself the answer."

I look at him in confusion. "What?"

"If she won't agree to see you, you have to take action. Go to her house, tell her everything in person; from the stress you were under, to the drugs, to Nadine's part in it all. Give her the full story. At least then if she chooses to fucķ you off again it's because she's well and truly finished with you."

"Wow, you're really selling it to me," I mutter sarcastically.

"I'm just being straight with you," he replies. "What have you got to lose? At the moment she isn't part of your life in any way at all. It can only get better from here. It can't get any worse."

As pathetic as it is to admit, he's absolutely right.

"I don't want to push her too far," I confess.

"But you're letting her slip through your fingers," he argues. "She doesn't know the truth. You owe her the truth."

"My mum said to give her space."

"She's had space," he replies. "You've been on a different continent for God's sake. How much more space does she need? It's time to take back control."

I am reminded of when Louis, Liam and I were in the pool at my house in LA while Jess fired streams of water at us from the hose and strutted around the deck, and of Louis smacking the water with his hand and declaring, "Lads, come on! We need to take back control!" I can't stop a nostalgic smile from creeping across my face at the memory of hauling myself out of the pool, grabbing Jess around the waist and pressing my lips to hers. She melted against me so perfectly - she was unable to resist me back then. What changed?

Oh yeah, I slept with someone else behind her back.

"You're right," I declare, and my voice has a new clarity and confidence to it that I haven't heard in weeks. "You're absolutely right. It's time to get everything out in the open. I'm going back to London next week, and I'm going to make her listen to me. I'm going to tell her the truth and I'm not going to let anything stand in my way."

I feel a sudden surge of energy and excitement that rushes through my veins and lifts my mood instantly. I'm going to make this work, if it takes everything I have. I will not let this girl go without a fight.

And under his breath I hear Louis mutter to himself, "Well, fuckıng finally."

---***---

It's been almost a month since I updated this, I'm so sorry! Thank you for sticking with it xxxx