***Harry Styles***
Monday, July 16th, 2012 – North London, England

“What’s going on, guys?” Carl asked us as soon as we finished recording, easily having noticed the tension. None of us responded; we just acted like we didn’t know what he was referring to. “Well, whatever it is, you need to figure it out.” He said before he left. For some reason, that set me off. I didn’t want to cry, not right then, not in front of the guys when we all hated each other, but I couldn’t turn it off. Somehow, the tears had just kept coming since Saturday, and I couldn’t stop them. I put my hands up to my face to try and hide them, but it was useless. Niall, who was standing next to me, pulled me into a hug, and I kept one hand over my eyes as I cried on his shoulder.

“Harry,” Liam stepped over and rubbed back, “it’s gonna be okay.” Then Zayn came over and put his hand on my head, reassuringly. I was well aware that the only one not touching me was Louis.

“Harry,” Louis spoke up to my surprise, although his voice was quiet and strained, “you can still stay at the house.” I wanted to die. I wanted to fall down and die, right there. No more of this. I hadn’t said a word about that, yet Louis just knew me well enough to know that was an issue. Still. How was I ever going to get over him?

If I hadn’t been so exhausted from all the nonstop crying the past few days, I probably would’ve lost it on Louis. I would’ve told him that it wasn’t fair for him to still know what I was thinking without me having to say it. If we can’t be together, then he’s not allowed to know me anymore. But I knew I needed a place to stay, and I knew the white walls of a hotel room would only make everything in my head that much worse. So I looked up at Louis, making eye contact with him for the first time since Saturday.

“That helps,” I nodded through my tears. “Thank you.” Louis nodded. I knew being in that house with Louis would be absolute torture. But it was a solution, at least for now, until I could find a place of my own. And I decided I would just stay locked in my room the majority of the time to avoid having to look into his perfect eyes that were no longer only for me.

“Lou, come here,” Liam said, extending his arm to my roommate. Louis hesitated, then walked over and joined the rest of us in the group hug, and he made extra effort not to touch me. “I’m sorry, you guys,” Liam told all of us. The rest of us replied the same, and then the band was okay again, and we were all best friends again, and I instantly began to feel better, except for the whole Louis thing.

The five of us decided to meet for dinner that night – promising each other there would be no arguing – and then we said goodbye and went our separate ways. Louis and I, of course, pulled up to the house at the same time, and we avoided acknowledging each other until we were inside. My face must have looked terrible and I knew my eyes were red and probably had dark circles around them, and Louis took a long look at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, sincerely, a genuine question. But if Louis Tomlinson was going to push me away, then I was going to do the exact same thing to him.

“Like you care,” I replied, then darted up to my room and slammed the door shut.