I knew that it shouldn’t have all been down to him, I could have made the effort and made the call myself, taken the first step in an attempt to sort out the mess we had both made, but I hadn’t. I felt bad, even though I was aware the argument was largely down to Harry and how he’d acted, I felt like maybe I could have dealt with the situation a little better myself. We were both in the wrong, in different ways, but I still wanted him to make the first move and apologise, nor did I think that was a tall order. I didn’t want to be the kind of girl who couldn’t stomach the idea of her boyfriend being civil with his ex-girlfriend, and knowing Harry as well as I did, I doubted he wanted to be on bad terms with anyone. I guess it was just down to the fact the he was the one who had snapped, for no reason, before I could even say anything. My pride was holding me back from being the one who made the first move. It was 3pm and I was still in bed, feeling sorry for myself, when Rachel finally got home. I heard the door swing open, and she was singing to herself happily. I imagined she had spent the evening with Alex and she had just gotten back. I was jealous of her for that. “RACHEL!” I shouted, refusing to move from my bed.

“HOLY FUCK!” She freaked. I burst out laughing, hearing her possibly falling to the floor out in the hall, clearly frightened by me shouting her name. She threw the door open a few moments later, back on her feet, her eyes were wide as she looked at me, like she was seeing a ghost. “Why the hell are you here?” She asked. “Charming.” I chuckled. “You’re never here!” She moved and sat at the end of my bed. “You’re always with Harry.” I gave her a half-hearted smile and she instantly knew something had happened. She quickly took her shoes off and then tucked herself into bed with me, snugging into the sheets as we both lay on our sides and looked at each other. I still couldn’t do anything other than smile pathetically at her. “What happened?” She questioned. I told her the basic outline of how the previous day’s events had played out, and repeating the story made me believe even more that things just didn’t seem to make sense. I knew he had been upset thanks to the day before; going to Nathans grave had been emotionally tiring for both of us. It didn’t help how bombarded we were the second we were back in London, surrounded by the paparazzi in seconds. I knew that was enough to put him in a bad mood. But the fact he snapped, after I heard he had been talking to Grace, it all just seemed so out of character! I knew him, and I knew him well, so well it was like he had just become another part of myself. And it just didn’t seem to add up. I did wonder how much he was struggling with our relationship being so public, after we’d gone so long living in shadows. “Something’s going on.” Rachel said after I finished the tale. “That’s not like him.” “But what’s going on?” I asked, like she would somehow know. “I don’t know. I don’t think you have anything to worry about with the ex, maybe he just got touchy because… that’s what he’s like about exes. He clearly didn’t like the thought of you talking to Will. You’re the only… healthy relationship he’s ever had, y’know? And it’s still not been smooth sailing.” “That’s true.” I sighed. “I need to remember that. He… He doesn’t know what a healthy relationship is. Of course he’d be weird about exes.” “So I think it’s… something else. Especially since he was acting off beforehand. Maybe that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.” “So what could it be?” “I have no idea.” She shrugged. “You’re just going to have to ask him.” I rolled my eyes and showed my annoyance, really not wanting to talk to him first. I wanted him to come to me. I wanted the full blown romantic scene, Harry banging on my door like a madman and apologising, telling me how sorry he was and how much he wanted my forgiveness, and he would kiss me and say he was an idiot and I would swoon and everything could get back to normal. I think one of the reasons it stung so much was because it was one of the first real arguments we had ever had as a couple. We had argued before, there was no denying, but it had always been a bitter exchange about his management and how things were, both just frustrated rather than actually angry at one another. This was a new experience for me, actually being so mad at him for something he had done, and him being mad at me, and the two of us not speaking. I was hating every second of it. “He’s not a bad guy.” Rachel breathed. “If you just make the call, I’m sure he’ll explain himself.” I turned and grunted angrily into the pillow, knowing full well I was going to cave and get in touch with him. I couldn’t help myself! I hated not speaking to him, being at home and just wondering where we stood and what the hell had happened. It had been going on for too long, too much silence had been shared between us over the past day. Everything in our relationship was as it should be by that point, no more hiding, no more bullshit, I wasn’t willing to let a stupid issue about an ex cause more of a rift between the two of us than it needed to. “Fine.” I grumbled, face still deep in the fabric. “I’ll leave you to it.” She giggled. “But even if you make up and everything’s wonderful again, can I have you to myself for the night?” I moved away and looked at her, feeling slightly guilty that we had spent so little time together of recent even though I lived with her. I had been with Harry since February 20th, practically non-stop since I had gotten his letter. Rachel understood, and I think she was genuinely happy that I was so wrapped up and enthralled by mine and Harry’s relationship, but I definitely owed her a night. “Of course.” I sighed. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” She clambered out of my bed. “Harry’s great, I like that you spend so much time with him. But I love you too, and I need you!” She left the room quietly after that, letting me know silently that it was time to ring Harry, time to sort out the mess that we had somehow stumbled into. I groaned and wriggled around in my bed for a moment, still reluctant to pick up the phone but it didn’t take long for me to cave, reaching across and finding him in my contact list. I stared at his name for a few moments and realised exactly what he did to me. Even seeing his name on my screen sent my stomach into a mad frenzy, that’s what he did to me. It’s just a stupid argument. He’s so much more important than that. I tapped his name and made the call, nervously holding the phone up to my ear and controlling my breathing to the best of my ability. It seemed to drag on for hours, the distant drone of the ring tone piercing my eardrums like I had heard it played on repeat my entire life. I was convinced he was ignoring me, convinced he had seen it was my name on his screen and chosen to ignore it. But then he answered. I cut him off before he even had the chance to speak. “I’m not talking to Will. You’re right, I lied, and I don’t know why I said that. And… I don’t want to make you feel bad for talking to your ex. You can talk to who you want and I don’t... I don’t know. I hate this, Harry. You were a dickhead... but you’re my dickhead. I miss you, already. I hate this.” How to be an understanding amazing girlfriend. I guide by Anna Black. A weight lifted off my shoulder as I breathed out some of the stress I had felt and just relaxed. For a moment. But then he didn’t speak. More silence continued and all too quickly I felt sick to the stomach again, my nerves returning and the feeling of unease making sure it was definitely being felt. “Harry?” I said after some time. “I... I can’t talk right now.” He muttered. “It won’t take long-” I tried. “I’m busy, Anna. I… I’ll see you tomorrow or something, okay? We’ll talk.” “Harry… what the hell is going on here?” I asked. “I’m busy, Anna. Please. I’ll ring you when I can.” I heard a noise in the background. The unmistakable sound of a girl giggling. “Are you with someone?” I gasped. “Anna-” “Who are you with?” Anger bubbled inside me. ”No one! I’m busy. Do you understand? I’m sorry, I am, but I can’t talk right now. Just drop it.” He snapped. My mind was in absolute tatters by this point, so confused and hurt, so saddened by the way he was speaking to me and what was happening between us. “I’m sorry, Anna.” He sighed. And the line cute.

I was back in Brandy Boys, hoping the alcohol would drown my sorrows and turn them to nothing, but I think if anything it just made it worse. It was nice to be back there, regardless of how sad I was, but at the same time it simply reminded me of the times before Harry, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that. Everything about what had happened that day made it feel as though me and Harry weren’t a couple and I hated it. I despised it. The sensation was sickening. Being that way and feeling that way was such a massive reminder of how much I loved him, how much happier I became from the damn moment he stepped into my life. And thanks to that day, it felt like I was losing that. I couldn’t really give him any more than I had, I couldn’t be so understanding after the way the phone-call had gone. That was all I had left. That was all I had to give. I was understanding, and I had apologised before he did even though maybe I shouldn’t have, but I had no idea what he wanted from me after that, why he was still so off with me and why, several hours later, he still hadn’t found the time to call. I stirred my whiskey and lemonade with my finger, sat alone at the bar with nothing better to do that wallow in the way I felt. Rachel had come with me, but she had left with Alex a little while earlier. I promised her I’d already rang a taxi and I would be leaving soon, but that was yet another lie I had fed her. It was the early hours of the morning, and few people remained in the bar. None of whom were alone. But I was, in every sense of the word. I ran a sorry hand through my hair and then lifted the glass to my lips, glugging down the entirety of the drink in seconds, cringing at the taste. I was a familiar face to the bar staff, and not through the videos or through the media but through myself, and through the fact I had been there numerous times, and I liked that. And thanks to this, they had noticed my misery and they were handing me free drinks because of it. It never even turned into a bad thing either, because as much as I drank, I never got overly drunk. I wasn’t sober, that’s a given, but I was so fucking miserable that the merry feeling I craved so deeply wouldn’t reach any part of my body I wished it to. I was numb. I had also had my first experience of the paparazzi attacking me in the street when I wasn’t with Harry, and I’d struggled. I had no idea how they always fucking knew, a part of me just thought the bastards lingered on every street corner in the hope of finding someone. They must have done their research since learning of my relationship with Harry, and there were a million ways they could have found out Brandy Boys was somewhere in London they could find me. They could have looked at my twitter, studied the old photos that were released the night me and Alex had kissed in there, maybe it was something along those lines. Either way, they had too much time on their fucking hands. They took a few photos of me, Alex and Rachel, whose hands were gripped together, which would probably stop rumours circulating about me and Alex again, because the two of them couldn’t have looked happier, literally in the prime of their relationship. Unlike some. The paps seemed calmer when I wasn’t with Harry, maybe there was something about the two of us being together that just drove them completely wild, either way I was grateful I didn’t have to deal with that intensity that night. Another drink was placed in front of me quite quickly, the woman behind the bar shooting me a friendly, encouraging wink. It was very clear to see that I was upset, and they were being more than nice about it, I definitely appreciated the free drinks. Not that I was actually going to let them do that, I had been going there for far too long and I had enough money in the bank to pay for my own drinks, but the kind intentions were there, and I truly appreciated that. But I had every intention of leaving money behind, but then something happened. My day took another turn for the worse. I took a sip of my drink before I heard a voice behind me. “Excuse me?” I turned around, and my heart stopped thumping in my chest. The boy was a stranger, and as I stared at him he mumbled something about being a fan and asking for a picture but I just couldn’t get past the image ahead of me. He looked exactly like Tyler. The same hair, the same features, just everything. He looked exactly like him. My spine crashed harshly against the bar as I stumbled backwards off my stool, distancing myself from him in a maniacal fashion, absolutely terrified of him. Tears stung my eyes and my breathing ceased. I could see the confusion on his face, not having a damn clue what was happening to me. But it felt like I was losing my mind, like he really was Tyler. And he was there. Right in front of me. “Please stay away.” I whispered through tears. “What?” He baffled. He tried to reach out a comforting hand to my arm, trying to put me at ease but that sent me over my edge, his skin meeting mine making me feel sick to the stomach. I yanked my arm away from him quickly and I burst into tears, pushing him away from me and just leaving him, storming as quickly as I could out of the bar, my feet carrying me in a mad rush as bile seemed to engulf my throat. In that moment, I really thought it could have been him, it could have been Tyler, and I was a mess because of it. After being so strong for so long after what had happened in that basement, in a way, my reaction and my fear, that paranoia and delusional state, felt overdue. I’d broken. I pushed my way outside, and thankfully by that hour the paparazzi had left. I was running, the night was dark and deadly as I bolted to a backstreet, just to try and escape the feeling, but I couldn’t. I collapsed on the damp pavement and wept, my body shaking in the cold night as I thought about what I had just seen and how it was affecting me. And the first thing I wanted, the first thing I needed, was Harry. I pulled my phone from my bag, sobbing with my knees curled up to my chest and my back pressed to the stone wall, and rang him once again. The noise dragged on again, which only furthered my tears. And thankfully, he answered. “Harry?” I sobbed. “Anna? Anna, what’s wrong?” He was panicked, right away. “Harry he’s here. He’s here, Harry. He’s found me. He-” I was an utter wreck. I was surprised he could understand what I was saying because it was so hard to structure through my tears. I was terrified. “Who? Who’s there?” He asked quickly. “Tyler. Tyler’s here and he touched me. Please Harry... I can’t...” Something smashed on the other end of the line, and I could almost hear Harry growl his anger. He must have known deep down it couldn’t have been Tyler, but even the mere thought, and my state, it sent him back into an angered, scared condition. What had happened when I’d gone missing had scarred both of us, and we were showing that then. “Harry, please… I need you.” I blubbered. “I’m so scared.” “Tell me where you are.” It almost sounded like a threat he was so inflamed. “Please, Harry, I don’t know what to do-” I whimpered. “ANNA, TELL ME WHERE YOU FUCKING ARE NOW!” Another smash occurred during that sentence, this one sounding more like his fist meeting a wall once more. I cried for a little while longer, taking steady breaths in and out as I tried to control myself and tell him where I was, though I was having a difficult time not just begging him to find me miraculously. “I-I’m outside Brandy Boys and he’s inside Harry. He’s there.” “Stay there, Anna. Please don’t move. I’ll be there as soon as I can okay? Don’t move. I’ll be there. I’ll find you. I promise.”

I’d say only around twenty minutes passed before he arrived, running around the corner and coming to a sharp stop as soon as he saw me collapsed on the floor. His eyes were wide, his body shaking, and he hardly even seemed relieved to have found me, because I wasn’t in a good way. He seemed heartbroken by the sight. He slowly, cautiously walked over to me, keeping his approach kind, as though he needed to be careful with me. I remained lifeless against the wall, not crying by that point but it was like I was in a state of shock, staring into nothing and completely limp. Harry kneeled ahead of me, checking over me to see that I wasn’t hurt in any way. He was the only thing that could bring me from my state. My eyes lifted and met his. He moved his hand and grabbed the back of my neck, trying to stay calm but I could tell he was struggling. His jaw was tight as he spoke. “Can you stand?” He asked. I couldn’t reply, although my eyes had moved to him it seemed the rest of my body still hadn’t quite found the strength to do so, so I just stared. He seemed to do the math himself. He moved to me, cupping my entire body and lifting me up off the ground and cradling me in his arms. I found the strength to wrap my arms around his neck as he began moving through the street, and it reminded me so much so of the night he had carried me to his bed when I was half asleep over a year before. He carried me to his car and placed me inside in the front seat. I slumped down, still lifeless, so painfully cold. He fastened my seat belt for me, but before he moved round to his side of the vehicle and drove us back to his, he just stared at me for a moment, no life in his tired eyes. “I’m so sorry, Anna.” He said. “About everything. I’m sorry.”