(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 30 - The Dangerous Tricks People Play)

She shakes her head at me.

"There you go again," she says, devoid of emotion. "More mystery. What does that even mean?"

My heart pounds. Do I tell her I love her, and I want to try and work things out? Something tells me this would not go down well. 

"Maybe I know you better than you know yourself," I respond carefully, meaning I understand how she felt when I held her, and I understand what it is like to hate yourself for seeking solace in the one person you know you shouldn't.

"Oh, so you were referring to me?" she sneers. "You're saying I didn't know I needed you but now you're here you think I will suddenly realise?"

No, that's not what I meant at all. Her disdain is breaking my heart. My ears burn with embarrassment.

I look down at the floor before changing the subject and continuing.

"The conversation we had on the phone that day made me realise the extent of what I had done. I heard the pain in your voice when the truth sank in. It ripped through me, and I've never forgotten it. Everything I said to you was the truth. I couldn't bring myself to admit to taking Speed because I didn't want you to be disgusted with me over that, as well as over me being unfaithful."

I look up into her eyes. "I wasn't expecting you to say the things you said. What you said to me, about clicking my fingers and getting what I wanted - it struck a chord with me. It made me question everything. You really hit home with everything you said, and the way you described me... it was someone I didn't want to be. And when you reminded me of the effect all of it would have on you; when you said everyone would be laughing at you..."

The whole fucking fandom will be laughing at me! As far as public humiliation goes, I think you've topped it all.

I feel sick at the thought of her hurting like this.

"That hadn't even occurred to me, and it made it hurt so much. It...It hurt in here, Jess." I put my hand over my heart and I look into her eyes to see the tears sparkling there, ready to fall. "I hated myself for doing this to you," I admit miserably. "I knew you wouldn't forgive me. I'd known that before I'd even picked up the phone to call you. I had no right even to ask, which is why I didn't. I wasn't about to insult you further by asking you for another chance. But I wanted you to know how sorry I was, and how I wished I could go back and change it. I didn't want you to think I didn't care. It was the worst mistake of my life."

She says nothing, but looks at me with an unreadable expression. 

"I can't really remember much after our phone call," I continue, softly. "I called Louis back, and at some point I told my mum and Gemma what had happened. I remember you trying to call me repeatedly, but I'd just shut down. I couldn't face you again. I know that was shitty of me, and I should have taken your calls, but my head was all over the place. I'm so sorry for that. Amidst all of this I flew to Brussels and faced another roasting from pretty much everyone I spoke to. And each time I relived it things seemed to become clearer and clearer."

"What do you mean?" 

She looks apprehensive; afraid of what I am going to say next, no doubt terrified I am going to hurt her more.

"When Louis came into my suite at the hotel and said you were there I almost fell over," I confess. "I couldn't believe you'd flown out to see me. But I couldn't let myself be happy about it because I knew what I had to do. I wanted to take you in my arms the minute I saw you standing in that room waiting for me, but I couldn't. I couldn't make it any harder than it already was, for either of us. You wanted closure, I needed to sort my life out. I knew we couldn't be together after what I'd done. You'd made me see that I'd turned into everything you were afraid of, and you were right - I had let fame change me, to an extent. Not in an obvious way, maybe, but in some ways. And you could see those traits in me because I'd let you get so close to me. I'd hurt you so badly, and I hated myself for it. I couldn't risk hurting you any further. And I'd proved what I was capable of, when presented with temptation." 

I hear the waver in my own voice and pause for a couple of seconds to swallow the emotion before speaking again.

"I didn't even think, Jess. It wasn't like I knew it was wrong but I did it anyway - it was exactly the opposite. I was fucked out of my mind and it didn't even enter my head to say no. That's what made me come to the conclusion that I eventually came to."

"What conclusion?"

The emotion I just swallowed rises again, causing my voice to crack.

"I couldn't believe I had even been tempted by someone else. Those aren't the actions of someone deeply in love. They are the actions of someone selfish and cruel, and uncaring. How could I possibly claim to be in love with you after that? You don't hurt the people you love."

Yet, sadly, you do. That has been my biggest lesson in all of this. That, and never to touch drugs again as long as I live.

"So what, you just realised there and then that you weren't in love with me and that you never had been?" she asks, wretchedly.

"It made me question everything," I correct her. "I had an eight hour flight from New York to Brussels to think things over, and to try to understand why I did it, and still I had no answers. The only thing I kept coming back to was what you'd said to me on the phone: 'You didn't love me enough to say no to her.' That resonated with me, Jess. I began to think you were right. It was the only part of it that made any sense to me. And in the back of my mind I still had the worries of the band, and Louis' impending fatherhood. I had so much going on, I didn't know my arse from my elbow. I didn't see how I could love you after I lied and cheated and treated you badly. I thought I wouldn't have done that if I'd truly loved you. It was the only thing that made any sense to me, at the time. I couldn't believe my ears when you offered me a second chance."

I look up at her, but she is staring at the wall.

"It was everything I wanted," I say softly, and I watch as a tear slides slowly down her cheek. "Another shot at making things work with us. But what if I did the same thing again, the next time I had a drink and we were apart? I couldn't take the risk of putting us both through this again, and although I couldn't imagine ever being with another girl as long as I lived, I couldn't make the promise that it wouldn't happen, not after I'd done it once already."

If only I'd known then when I'd really taken. I wouldn't have doubted myself, and I would have fought tooth and nail to win her back.

I watch her for a moment. She is twisting her fingers together, her hands shaking. The tear drips off the bottom of her cheek onto the floor and I feel a hot burn behind my own eyes again.

"Like I said, it made me question everything," I sigh. "I had to walk away from you before I ruined you any further. I just wanted you to be happy, and I knew I couldn't guarantee that I would be able to make that happen."

She finally looks at me, and I give her a tentative smile which she doesn't return, and then look down at my lap.

"It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do - walking away from you," I mumble. "I didn't want to, but I had to, for both our sakes. I had to sort myself out and stop myself from fully becoming that person you said I already was. So I let you go, and I fully intended to break all contact with you. We played the show that night in Brussels and I went through the motions, and then spent the time in between trying to come to terms with everything. I was a mess. I couldn't get you out of my head, but I had no intention of contacting you again - I didn't want to prolong it. But... Karen had other ideas."

"She really hated me, didn't she?" Jess laughs bitterly, and I look up at her in surprise.

"No, she didn't. She was wary of you at first, but she was pleasantly surprised, I think, by the way you kept out of the public eye," I tell her, although why I am going into detail about this I'm not sure. It's not like it matters anyway. But I can't stop myself now I've started. "She put you through your paces when she first met you because she wanted to make sure you weren't a gold digger, or a fame-seeker. But once she realised you weren't either of those things I think she warmed to you. She orchestrated that meeting at the Modest office that day - it was nothing to do with me. She asked me to come over because she needed my signature on some stuff, and she wanted to check I was OK. I literally found out you were coming about ten seconds before you walked in the door. I knew she wanted you to be seen with me again, because of the press stories about me, but I'd told her to leave you alone. It never crossed my mind she'd try and get us in the same room together, and then you appeared in the doorway..."

I hesitate and Jess looks away again. It's like she is afraid of giving me eye contact.

"I couldn't bring myself to look at you because I missed you so much, Jess," I confess. "My heart was breaking without you. And it was pounding the whole time you were there. It ached for you. The way you were slaying Karen... it was brilliant, and it was so typically you. I was still searching for answers myself about that night in New York, and when I realised you were still so upset about it, I felt even worse." 

The words tumble out before I can stop them. I shouldn't be saying this - I'm sailing into dangerous territory now, but my mouth has a mind of its own.

"When you went to pick up my phone I panicked," I say in a rush. "I still had that photo of you on there that I'd taken down by the river that weekend at my mum's, and I didn't want you to see it. I didn't want you to know I was still hankering after you, because I was trying to have a clean break."

Her expression has changed into one of disbelief and shock. I hurry on before she can interrogate me.

"The things you said to me about... about needing to see a doctor to get yourself checked out..." I begin again, and then flounder because I have no idea how to approach this delicate subject.

"I'm sorry I said that," she says quickly, her face turning pink. "I was just lashing out."

"It's OK," I accept, just as quickly. "But you have to know that I never slept with anyone else while we were together." I hesitate, as I realise this isn't true and it's the whole reason we are in this mess. "Well, apart from... you know," I add, and she gives a resigned nod of acknowledgement with her eyes closed. "But I wasn't sleeping around behind your back. It never even entered my head to do that. You were all I wanted."

She still doesn't say anything, but at least she has stopped yelling at me. A thought occurs to me, and I before I can overthink it, I say it out loud.

"You ruined Karen's skirt, by the way."

Her eyes dart to mine and I can't help the smirk breaking on my face, and when I realise she is smiling too, I grin.

She grins back, and my stomach flips.

"It was only water," she says, with a hint of disdain that thankfully isn't aimed at me. This time.

"Yeah, and the skirt was dry-clean only," I reply. "The water mark never came out, apparently. You ruined a five hundred pound suit."

To my delight she laughs out loud, the dimples deepening in her cheeks and her eyes sparkling with amusement instead of tears.

"I can't pretend I'm sorry," she declares. "That bitch put me through hell."

"She's not so bad, really," I reply, unable to stop myself from smiling. "Once you get used to her."

We are both silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. I return to my place in the story, eager to get to the end of it and relieve myself of the guilt I've been carrying around these last few months.

"I didn't come after you when you stormed out because I knew you wouldn't sell me out, even though you threatened it," I explain. "You had every reason to do it, but I knew you well enough to know you would never stoop so low. I'm not saying I wouldn't have deserved it; I just mean I know revenge isn't your style. You're not spiteful. And when I was proved right that just compounded my guilt and self-loathing."

She watches me carefully, her eyes now dry and her expression encouraging.

"I muddled through the next few shows, trying my best not to let the fans down, and I think I did an alright job. But then..." Oh God, we're here. We're getting to the truth. "Then I found out something that changed everything. It explained what happened, and why I had done what I did. It all finally fell into place."

I feel sick.

"What was it?" she asks breathlessly, and I twiddle my rings around my fingers while I wait for the feeling of nausea to pass. I'm actually afraid I might throw up right here.

"Jeff rang me," I begin, and my voice sounds weird and quivery, and like it belongs to someone else. "He asked me what I remembered about the night in New York. I said some parts were hazy, and some were clear. He asked me if I remembered taking Speed, how much I'd had, and who had physically given it to me."

She must be able to see my heart beating through my shirt. It's practically leaping out of my chest. And my armpits are sweating. I hope I don't smell.

"I told him I'd only had one line, and it had been one of our group who'd had it," I mumble. "He got all impatient and asked me who it had been, so I said it was his friend Jason. He went all quiet, and then started apologising. When I asked what was wrong, he said the stuff I'd taken wasn't pure."

I risk a glance at Jess, and she is sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands by the sides of her legs, leaning forward with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"What do you mean, wasn't pure?" she whispers.

Her innocence is heartbreaking, and makes me love her even more. I feel dirty having to explain this to her, like I am a seasoned pro or something. Which I'm not, by the way.

"Speed tends not to be as pure as Cocaine, as a rule," I explain. "It's often mixed with other chemicals, which is why it's not usually what I'd choose to take, but the effects last longer than Coke, which is why we were on it that night." 

I pause again to look at her, but if she is disgusted by this admission it doesn't show on her face. Perhaps her curiosity has overcome her disappointment in me.

"Jeff had some, and so did a couple of his friends, and that batch was OK. But Jason, the guy who gave me mine... the stuff he gave me wasn't pure. It was mixed with something else, and the combination is known to those who take it as the Love Drug, or - " As if I'm about to say this out loud... "Or 'Love Potion.'"

"Love Potion?" She pulls a face somewhere between disbelief and scorn. "Are you actually taking the piss? You're not Harry Potter."

"No, I am not taking the piss," I reply flatly. I'm not in the mood to be laughed at over this. "It's basically Speed mixed with a drug called Bremelanotide - which is rumoured to increase libido. It's a street drug that's apparently popular with couples or something... I dunno, I'd never heard of it until Jeff told me; it was news to him as well. There are mixed reviews about this Bremelanotide; some people say it's a load of shit but other people swear by it. But the people who swear by it say it greatly increases your sex drive, and reckon it's a powerful aphrodisiac. But it comes in a white powder form, and when mixed with Speed it just looks the same."

I see a flash of realisation on her face. She is beginning to understand, I can tell.

"So this is what was mixed with the Speed you took that night?" she clarifies.

"Amongst other stuff, yeah," I nod. "Like I said, Speed usually isn't very pure. Not like Coke."

She pauses for a second to let this sink in, and then whispers, "And when you say it's an aphrodisiac...?"

"It makes you want to have sex," I answer. "Remember I told you how I felt when Sara hugged me, when she pressed herself up against me? It turned me on. I was just standing outside in the street saying goodbye to her, and her hug turned me on. The feeling sort of stayed with me a bit, but it didn't really register much because I wasn't out looking for anything like that, I was just on a night out with my mates. I was aware of it again when she came back to my hotel room, but I didn't understand what it was - I didn't know it was fake, brought on by the chemicals in my system. I mean, I'm not denying she's an attractive girl, but I shouldn't have felt that way over just her presence."

She is listening to me. She isn't pooh-poohing it, and she isn't tearing me down with her sharp tongue anymore. She is listening, and processing what I am saying. I am spurred on by this.

"My body was reacting to her, and I was drunk and buzzing," I continue. "I shouldn't have acted upon the desire, and for that I take full responsibility. But I honestly, genuinely, truly believe I wouldn't have been unfaithful to you if I hadn't taken that drug concoction. Or if I had still taken it, but hadn't been drunk, I would have been sober enough to rationalise my feelings, and I doubt I would have acted upon them. But the combination of all of it was my downfall."

I need to explain this - I need her to understand that I never would have looked twice at someone else if that drug hadn't interfered with my hormones.

"I know how far-fetched and ridiculous this sounds, believe me," I plead, when I notice a look of uncertainty pass across her face. "Why do you think it's taken me this long to tell you? But I'm not trying to make excuses, Jess. I'm telling you the full truth."

I feel something tickle my cheek and I realise it is a tear when she reaches forward and cups my cheek with her hand and brushes the tear away with her thumb. I can't help closing my eyes for a moment, and pretending this is a gesture of affection between two people in love.

"I don't take drugs very often," I whisper. "If I was a regular user I probably would have realised that the stuff I took wasn't pure Speed, although I never would have guessed it was that... that Love Potion." I twist my face in disgust. "If I had known what it was, and what the effects would be, I never would have touched it in a million years."

I look into her eyes, searching for a sign that she might forgive me for what I did; that now she has all the information she might just be able to understand. 

I have to tell the last part. I have to tell her about Nadine.

"You said Jeff told you the Speed wasn't pure," she says softly. "But it wasn't Jeff who gave it to you."

She's almost there herself. She is piecing it together without my help.

"No," I confirm.

"Who gave it to you?" 

"A friend of Jeff's, called Jason," I reply carefully, waiting for her to ask her next question like it is written in the script.

"And who did he get it from?" 

She knows. 

I don't need to tell her, but she needs to hear it from me so there can be no uncertainty anymore.

I blink, keeping my eyes fixed on hers, so I will see through to her soul when she finally hears the truth. I lick my lips and smile sadly.

"Nadine."