(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 37 - Silence and Sound)

I send a quick text to Jess when we land in the US, and make a mental note to leave things alone now for at least a week, to give her the space she said she needed.

It's hard, as everything I see seems to reminds me of her in some way. It doesn't help that I can't bring myself to update my background picture on my phone. Removing it would seem too final, almost like I was giving up, and I am definitely not ready to throw in the towel just yet. She is permanently in my thoughts, from the moment I wake to the moment I fall asleep (which is usually the small hours of the morning, long after everyone else.) The lyrics we sing on stage, the subjects that come up in conversation, signs along the side of the road, songs on the radio... everywhere I go she surrounds me. I love it but I hate it at the same time. I have never been so consumed by another person in my life. If we can't work things out I honestly do not know how I will move on.

It's a long four weeks. 

Gemma informs me almost the moment I land in the US (and I suspect this is tactical) that she has started seeing someone, and she wants me to meet him when I'm next home. I'm always apprehensive of her potential boyfriends, as I just never know who is genuine and who could be a journalist on the hunt for some insider knowledge on me, so I am always mistrustful at first of any man who comes near her. She tells me she's really into this one, which only adds to the pressure from my point of view, but I put my own worries aside and have faith that my sister is a good judge of character.

I have a Skype call with a new fashion stylist in London, who wants to fit me with a suit for London Fashion Week in September. I'm cautious at first, until she shows me a bold, brown and black geometric print suit, and then my interest is piqued. We get chatting about the event, and she lets slip some names of others who are attending, and I make a mental note to tell Jess as soon as the opportunity arises that my ex, Cara Delevingne, will be there, just to keep everything open and above board. I don't want her to think I have any 'arrangements' on the down low. That couldn't be further from the truth. In reality, I'm a loaded gun at the moment. The frustration is real.

Jess doesn't reply to my first few texts, which are just mundane stuff. I try to keep them cool and casual, and spaced apart so I'm not crowding her. I fall over on stage in Toronto (which gives me an excuse to text her again), and it's the first text she replies to since I left England.

I fell over on stage again today :(, I tell her, at three a.m., when I'm arriving back at Soho House in Chicago where we're staying between shows. I'm not really expecting a response, but my heart soars when my phone lights up only minutes later with her reply.

Haha! I know, I saw the video.

My heart is pounding as immediately I am panicking about what to say next. I want to keep her attention now she is engaging with me, and I can't help thinking this is massive progress. I keep it lighthearted.

I'm fine, by the way. Bruised, but fine. Thanks for asking x

Then another thought occurs to me.

Where did you see the video? x, I type quickly.

On Twitter,  comes the reply pretty much instantaneously. 

You still go on Twitter?? x

I'm so surprised by this, as I haven't seen a peep from her in weeks, and I may or may not have been checking her profile occasionally. 

Weekly, maybe. 

OK fine, daily. Whatever.

Just because I don't follow you anymore doesn't mean I don't see your stuff

She sounds defensive.

Wait, that's ridiculous - it's a line of type on my screen. It can't sound anything. I need to stop stressing.

I wish you did still follow me x, I admit, thinking back wistfully to the start of our relationship when I first DM'd her on Twitter. I don't need to start going down that road again and reliving all of that. It will only make me miserable.

Half an hour passes. She's read my text, but hasn't replied. Have I pushed her too far?

Jess?, I type, hopefully.

Nothing.

I send her a sad face, and then regret it instantly. I'm supposed to be keeping things lighthearted, dammit.

I love how you only reply to the message about me falling over.... xx, I joke, adding two kisses on the end to let her know I am only kidding.

It was the first one that really made me smile, she responds, and we're back in the game! Although I'm not sure what she means by this.

Oh. Did the other ones make you sad? x, I ask, feeling uneasy at the prospect of her telling me to fuck off and leave her alone. 

Jess? xx, I prompt, an hour later, after still no reply. I can see she's read the text, though. It's now almost five a.m. My eyes are closing.

It makes me sad when I can see you've read my texts but you don't reply :(

I type this out with one eye open, my cheek pressed against the pillow miserably, but fall asleep before I can wait for a response.

It hits me like a punch in the stomach the next morning when I check my phone again, only to discover there are no ticks underneath my messages anymore. She's switched off her read receipts after my last text.

I feel sick.

I don't leave my hotel room at all that day.

~~~~

A few days later, Louise (my PA that manages my US schedule) posts a picture on her Facebook account of me sitting by the pool in a towel. She accidentally makes the post public, rather than private, and within seconds it has been saved and posted on Twitter for the world to see. Of course, it looks like I am cosying up to a new squeeze, and I don't want to make a big thing out of it, but I also don't want Jess believing the rumours, so I cave again and text her.

Just in case you were wondering, that picture of me in a towel by the pool circulating on Twitter at the moment was taken by Louise, my US PA. I was there with a few friends x

I wait anxiously for Jess's reply, but it doesn't come. I guess there is bigger news out there, as next year's hiatus has now been leaked accidentally on purpose by Modest. 

But on the other hand, I'm starting to feel a bit fed up of being ignored. I know I should leave things alone, but I cant resist poking her again the following day while we're waiting backstage at the Miller Park stadium in Milwaukee, to see if I can engage her in conversation. 

I guess you weren't wondering, then x

"Harry!" Louis shouts in exasperation, and I jump guiltily and turn my phone over to hide the screen from view. "Too late knobhead - I saw what you were saying to Jess," he groans, rolling his eyes. "For fuck's sake, where's your chill gone?"

"What chill?"

"Exactly." He chuckles at my expense, and I turn my back on him and slide my phone into the pocket of my jeans. "Seriously mate - stop texting her. You're gonna drive her away if you're not careful."

"I'm capable of running my own love life thanks," I mutter.

"Really? How's it working out for you?" he retorts.

"None of your business."

"In other words, shit."

My phone buzzes against my thigh and my stomach somersaults as I scramble to pull it out, much to Louis' mirth.

"You're not even an item and that girl's got you whipped," he laughs.

I ignore him, and open Jess's text, my heart thumping.

Yeah, I wondered. But it's not my place to ask anymore. I see the hiatus is official now?

This makes me so incredibly sad. I want it to be her place to ask. 

My stomach gives another jolt as I realise something else - this is the first time she's asked me something. It's the first time she's proactively participated in conversation.

OK, be cool. Be fucking cool. Don't mess this up.

You can ask me anything you want. I have nothing to hide :) Yeah, Modest leaked the rumour and then tweeted the confirmations from Louis and Niall's Twitter accounts. How are you? x

My phone buzzes about two minutes later on my knee and I wait a whole ten minutes, jiggling my legs impatiently, before opening her text. I'm trying to be breezy. Is it working?

Niall and Louis didn't tweet those themselves??!! I'm fine thanks. Modest never ceases to amaze.

OK, so I don't want to alarm anyone but SHE JUST ASKED ME ANOTHER QUESTION. She is keeping the conversation going. This is fucking awesome. I clumsily type a reply, hitting the wrong keys and repeatedly having to backspace.

We tweet most of our own stuff. Louis and Niall typed them out, under instructions from Karen x

I'm grinning as I wait for her to text me again, and it's at least twenty four hours before I accept that she isn't going to reply.

~~~

September 2015

It's now been over a week - almost two - since I made any attempt to contact Jess. It has taken everything I have to resist picking up my phone and pestering her. I have thrown myself into performing, recording vocals for the next album, writing lyrics for future material that may or may not ever be released and doing my best to think of absolutely anything other than the half of me that is missing. 

It has been decided that Perfect will be our next single. Louis and I are both chuffed to bits - it's sort of a big thing for us as songwriters that management believe a track that we've written is release-worthy. I'm happy about it, but all I really want to do is tell Jess the news, and explain to her what the song means, and that one of my own works is going to be promoted. I want her to love it. I want her to be proud of me.

I want her to care, but it's been two weeks and I'm so scared she's moved on. 

But I miss her, and I'm not giving up. 

Hey, are you still coming to our London show? What date have you got? x

I'm doing well with these openers aren't I? I mean, come on.

It's a few hours before she replies, and when she does it's around the time she would normally finish work. Not that I'm keeping track of the time back home or anything. 

I still have my ticket, but I'm not sure

No kiss. Hmm. A reply is a good start, though.

Why not? x, I ask.

Lots of reasons x

Well. That's not vague or anything.

Like....? xx, I prompt.

It's half an hour before she responds.

Like.... I don't want to be papped at one of your concerts as we're not together anymore. It would just draw the attention back to me again and I don't want it.

I get that, I type back, hastily. What are the other reasons? x

But the conversation ends there - she doesn't reply. She's put a wall up again, and is refusing to let me into her head. I can't say I blame her, but it's still frustrating.

We head up to Canada for a couple more shows, one of which Megan attends with a friend and hangs out with us backstage (but thankfully keeps her distance), then we fly back to New York on the eleventh to film the video for Perfect. It's a fun day, but somehow it's tinged with sadness because the one person who inspired this song (for me, anyway) doesn't even know it exists. 

I want to tell her about it, but I don't want to manipulate her feelings towards me by telling her I wrote a song about her. I want her to make her own mind up about it, and when she eventually hears it I want her to understand it without any prompt from me. I know I'm expecting a lot, but I can't help how I feel.

I text her late that night when I get back to the hotel, the night before we play our last show in the US. It will be early morning back home, so hopefully she'll reply.

We filmed the video for our next single today. It's called Perfect. I think you'll like it xx

Fifteen minutes later she replies. I can see the notification winking at me, but I deliberately wait ten minutes before replying. I'm trying to play it cool.

Awesome! When will it be released?, she's asking.

16th October. We haven't announced the name of it yet so don't tell anyone xx

Like I would anyway x, comes the response immediately, and I feel a little jolt in my stomach when I see the kiss at the end of her message.

Sorry, I race to reply. I know you wouldn't, that was a stupid thing to say. How are you? xx

Chill, it's fine. Good thanks, you? x

She seems more relaxed since we last properly texted, AND she's encouraging conversation. I can't help smiling.

I'm great, I type back carefully. I co-wrote Perfect with Louis, and these rarely get released as singles, it's usually our songwriters' tracks that get released. It's a massive deal for me xx

The reply comes through within seconds.

OMG I know, that is huge!!!! Congratulations!!! Proud of you xx

'Proud of you xx'

PROUD OF YOU XX

Not only is she being downright friendly, she also put two kisses on the end. I'm grinning like an idiot and I don't even care.

You have no idea how big the smile is on my face right now xxx

No chill. 

And now my fingers are typing another message to her, without waiting for her reply.

I miss you so much. Can I see you when I'm back? xxx

I hope I haven't overstepped the line, but I've been so restrained lately, I can't help myself. I fucking love her, why can't she see that?

My phone beeps, making me jump.

Yeah, that would be nice x

All chill has been abandoned.

I'm grinning like a fool, I type recklessly. When are you free? xx

Pretty much whenever, she replies. You're the one with the immovable schedule. When are you free?

I hurriedly check my emails, rereading my itinerary confirmation from Angela at Modest, before texting Jess back.

I fly home on 20th. I think I land around 4pm. I could come to your flat? Or you could come to my house? x

I don't really care where we meet, as long as I can see her. I can't believe she's agreeing to this.

Won't you be jet-lagged? she asks. And tired?

Yeah but I want to see you xxx

I wonder if she's missing me as I've been away for so long? I wonder if she's ready to talk more, about us?

OK, come to me then, she agrees.

Great. I've missed you so much. And I know you like having secret little rendezvous ;) x

I can't resist the last line, it's just too tempting. I can't wait for her to hear Perfect. Hopefully my stupid hints will all make sense. I wonder if she's considering us getting back together? I'm trying so hard not to get my hopes up, but something seems to have changed between us, for the better.

My phone beeps again and I snatch it up, grinning.

Let's just take it slow. No pressure ok?

OK xx, I type back, grinning, and then I look at her message again. Wait, what does she mean, take it slow?

What do you mean? x, I ask, hoping I don't sound pathetic.

She keeps me waiting twelve hours for a reply to this, and the longer I wait the more worried I become. I know she's at work, but I get the feeling she's avoiding answering me. We've just arrived at the Gillette Stadium in Foxborough when she finally sends her reply.

I just mean I'm not ready for jumping into anything feet first. Let's just keep things casual.

Fuck, hold on. Does she mean she just want us to be friends? Should I be worried?

Casual in what way? :/ x, I ask, and I add the unsure, disappointed face to convey my feeling.

It takes half an hour for the next text to come through. I drum my fingers against my knee impatiently while I wait. Louis watches me knowingly.

Without sounding harsh, we're barely even friends at the moment. I don't want you to get the wrong idea about meeting up x

The wrong idea? What would the wrong idea be? 

Wait a second - barely even friends? What..?

Be cool.

Oh. I just want to see you. No ulterior motive xx

That was breezy, wasn't it? 

OK good, she texts back. We're on the same page then x

I think we're in completely different fucking libraries.

I guess so, I reply, noncommittally.

I can't bring myself to pretend I'm not gutted.

~~~~

I spend a few days chilling out before I head back to the UK. Jeff and I attend a comedy show, I catch up with Xander over lunch and I hang out with Kendall for an afternoon. It's good to relax, and take my mind off things. The fog is lifting a little; whether it's because I know I am seeing Jess in a few days' time, or whether I am beginning to let go of everything that happened over the last few months, I'm unsure. But it is a relief that the ache in my chest has dulled somewhat, and the prospect of returning home is something I am looking forward to rather than dreading.

Jeff approaches the subject of my future management over dinner, and informs me his dad wants to manage me once my contract with Modest officially ends next March. It doesn't really come as a surprise, as Irving has thrown this into conversation more than once over the past few years I've known him, but it's still exciting to know that someone this huge in the industry wants to represent me. I try to act interested and casual when Jeff brings it up, but I'm pretty sure he sees through the facade. I tell him I'm looking forward to hearing more about it, when we get chance to meet up properly.

The paps are all over me whenever I'm out in public, and I almost lose my rag with one of them when he gets right in my face at the Kevin Hart show. I turn around to tell him to back off, but catch myself just in time and instead give him a stern grimace instead of my usual look of tolerance. It doesn't make a blind bit of difference though, and they all continue their intrusion with their blinding flashes and noisy clicking until I have left the building and slid into the back seat of my car to go home. 

I think fondly of sitting in this very seat a few months ago with Jess by my side, and forcing Dale to pull the car over so I could reprimand a car full of paps that were following us and trying to take pictures. I remember them making crass comments towards her, and feeling fiercely protective over anyone who might insult or upset her.

When I arrive home I pull out my phone and text her. I haven't been in touch with her in a few days, and I want to share this reminiscence (and I'm craving her again). I'm hoping it might remind her of the good times, as it has done me.

I almost shouted at a pap today, but I bit my tongue just in time. Reminded me of the night we came back from Project and I got narky with those guys following us x

What time is it at home? Early morning again? I wonder when she'll reply. 

It makes me smile that I'm confident she will, rather than worrying that she'll just ignore me.

My phone beeps, and my stomach flips. I wish it would stop doing that.

Ha! I remember. Never seen you so intolerant ;) x

I'm protective over you x, I respond, smiling down at my screen as I tap the letters. Send.

Fuck, does that make it sound like I'm thinking we're still a thing? 

*was protective, I correct, hurriedly.

Wait, it's not like I stopped being protective just because she isn't my girlfriend anymore. I would still kick anyone's arse who hurts her.

*still am, I add, and then literally facepalm at this new level of uncool that I have managed to break, all by myself.

Of course, she leaves me hanging until the next morning. I swear she does this on purpose. She's always been able to keep me on my toes.

My phone buzzes on the pillow next to me, pulling me from a fabulous dream in which Jess is sitting naked on top of me, letting me play with her breasts as we kiss.

What did they do to piss you off? her message reads. The ones today/yesterday I mean

It takes me a minute to move from subconscious to conscious, and I reread our last few messages to remind myself of our conversation. Oh yes, the paps.

I give her a brief lowdown over text, and then jump in the shower to relive my dirty dream, and relieve my sexual frustration with my hand.

~~~~

I spend the flight back to Heathrow formulating a plan in my mind for when I see her. I am determined to keep things light and casual, like she asked. No heavy stuff, no questions, no pressure. Maybe a little bit of flirting, if the situation feels right. I want her to enjoy hanging out with me - if she can't even do that, what's the point hoping for anything more? 

I can't help wondering how she's feeling about it all though, and whether she's come to terms with the revelations from our last meeting, and put her demons to rest. I'm definitely not going to ask. Not unless she brings it up.

I text her as I'm boarding the jet back to London, and get a strange reply that leads me to believe that she is working in London again, rather than Cardiff, which I am keen to ask about but don't want to seem like a crazy stalker (oh how the tables have turned.)

Fans are waiting at Heathrow for me, so I spend a few minutes taking photos and chatting briefly with them before heading off. I'm anxious to get to Jess's flat, although I'm starting to wish I'd allowed myself time to go home first and have a shower. I didn't really think this through, but it's too late to do anything about it now. I haven't eaten much on the flight, thanks to nerves about this impending meeting and we text each as I'm leaving Heathrow and sitting in the back of the car, in rush hour traffic, crawling across London.

I'm in the car. Got mobbed by fans at Heathrow. I'll be about an hour x

OK, see you in a bit

I hesitate, and then confess, I can't wait. I'm nervous x

She replies, Don't be. It's just me x

That's why I'm nervous xx, I admit, but if she's seen it she doesn't respond. As we're coming up Haverstock Hill my heart begins to pound and my palms sweat.

Be there in 5 minutes x, I text her, and as I'm unclipping my seat belt in the car park of her building, I get a reply.

Door's on the latch, come straight up

I'm so fucking nervous I could vomit.