***Louis Tomlinson***
Tuesday, March 27th, 2012 – North London, England

Zayn sent me a text message about half an hour after I had called him. “Found him,” it read. “On our way back – Lou, we gotta talk about this.” My heart sank – talk about what? The fight Harry and I had had? Was Zayn angry with me now too? Was Harry okay? I looked out the window in the living room every five seconds from that point on to see when they were coming. Finally, I saw all four of my band mates walking up the driveway to my house, and I took a deep breath, putting on a face.

All I wanted to do when they walked through that door was throw my arms around Harry. I wanted us to promise each other that everything was okay, that we were okay. But for some sick twisted reason that I couldn’t explain, I didn’t. I restrained myself, knowing that was too vulnerable, wondering if he even wanted to look at me, let alone touch me. So I just stood there for a minute – Harry’s face was tear stained.

“Hi,” I finally spoke to all of them. “Are you okay?” I asked Harry. He just looked at me.

“Um, Lou, we – we found him down at the lake,” Zayn told me. “He was – he was cutting his hip, real deep.” Harry stared at the floor. I didn’t think before responding.

“Harry!” I exclaimed. “How many times are you going to break that same damn promise to me? You said you would come talk to me first!” I squeezed the bridge of my nose. Why couldn’t I just be there for him? Why did I have to push him away by yelling at him? What the hell was wrong with me?!

“I tried,” he said to the floor, his voice hoarse, yet unphased from my outburst. “You said you didn’t want to talk to me.” My face fell. I felt like I had just been hit by a ton of bricks. I stumbled backwards, grabbing the back of the couch for support.

“Whoa,” Zayn darted over and put his arm around my waist to steady me. Harry was right. That was exactly what had happened. I had done the most absolute, very worst thing I could possibly ever do. I had requested something of my boyfriend and failed to meet my end of the deal. And it was a big deal – borderline life or death. I didn’t deserve to live. I deserved to be thrown in jail forever, the death penalty, something. I certainly didn’t deserve the love and affection of Harry Styles, or my other band mates for that matter. Hot tears burned my eyes, my voice stuck in my throat. “Lou?” Zayn questioned, noting my frozen body next to him.

“Harry, I – ” I started, but I couldn’t come up with the right words. There were no right words – there weren’t any words in the world to ever make up for this.

“It’s fine,” Harry shook his head slightly, his eyes locked on the floor. It was like he was numb. I had made my boyfriend stop feeling. I felt a break down coming on. Determined not to let the others see me like that – they’d seen me cry, but never break down – I ran up to my bedroom and shut the door. I stood facing the wall, one hand against it and the other one covering my sobbing face. I heard someone come in the room, and I wanted so badly for it to be Harry but I knew it wasn’t. Zayn put his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay, man,” he told me. I just shook my head. Out of all the guys (aside from Harry, of course), Zayn was the one who I could talk to the easiest. He was so non judgmental, and just let me talk when I needed to – which, of course, was rare.

“I don’t think it will be this time,” I said. “I really messed up, bad.”

“I think you and Harry can work it out,” Zayn said. “You won’t know unless you try.” He had a point. “Lou,” he said. I turned around and looked at him. He kept his hand on my shoulder though, probably afraid I would fall over if he took it off. “Harry said you knew about his cutting?” I nodded, yet another thing for people to hate me over.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, I promised him I wouldn’t…” I said.

“No, no, I get that, it’s just…well, Harry said it’s – it’s become an addiction.”

“Addiction?” I said. Zayn nodded. “Cutting?” Again, he nodded. “No, no, it can’t be, how could I miss that, I only thought he’d done it a couple of times, he’s so young, too young for this, he deals with so much and I’ve been absolutely no help!” I realized why Zayn’s hand was still on my shoulder, because I did lose my balance, and he caught me and hugged me.

“We’re gonna help him through this, okay?” Zayn told me. “We’re gonna help you both through it. It’s gonna be okay.”

“The one time he needs me most and I let him down!” was my response.

“This is Harry we’re talking about,” Zayn reminded me. “He’ll forgive you.”