The room was eerily quiet. Zayn was sitting on the end of his bed, head in his hands, as Paul kneeled in front of him, offering words of comfort. The five of us stared at the scene, unsure of what to do.

Louis had said that Zayn got a phone call from his dad while they were down at the bar. His aunt had died - she had had a heart attack and was rushed to hospital, but they were unable to save her. Now, Louis and I didn’t have any aunts or uncles - both of our parents were the only children in their families - so it was hard for me to quite comprehend how Zayn would take the news. But when I saw him, hunched over and defeated, my heart dropped.

Paul was speaking quietly to him, so quietly that we couldn’t here, but Zayn was nodding to whatever he was saying.

“Zayn,” Niall finally said, looking had his friend was concern.

Zayn Malik looked up at us then, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, and wiped the face with the back of his hands. I could feel the boys next to me stiffen - this was an unusual, sad, and uncomfortable situation and none of them were particularly adept and handling that.

Paul sighed and stood up, coming over to us.

“Zayn’s wants to head home to be with his family,” he said in an undertone. I was barely listening to him, to busy focusing on the boy in question, who had stood up and walked over to the window, his back to us.

“He should,” Liam replied instantly “He should be with them right now.”

“I agree,” Paul said, “which is why I’m going to book him on the first flight out tomorrow. But we’re going to have to talk about some things.” Paul ran a stressed hand through his hair. “Look after him, will you?” He asked, before leaving the room.

Zayn still hadn’t said anything, but Liam broke from our group first to go hug him. The others soon followed, each grabbing their friend and giving him affectionate pats and words of comfort.

“Thanks, guys,” Zayn said, his voice strained. “I’m fine.”

I didn’t believe him for a minute and neither did the others.

“Can we do anything for you?” Harry asked.

Zayn merely shook his head, as though if he spoke he would give away his emotions. The silence was unbearable and I turned to Louis.

“Lou, you and the lads should probably get some rest.” He looked at me, his face contorted with concern for his friend and surprise that I was telling him to leave. But, being siblings, we have a bit of an unspoken understanding of each other, and he reluctantly nodded.

“Come on mates, let’s give him some space,” he said, his voice catching slightly.

They each hugged Zayn in turn before leaving the hotel room. I stood there in the silence, watching Zayn closely, waiting for him to make the first move. He breathing was steady, but hard, as he stared at the floor, wringing his hands. He was like that for a few moments, apparently in control, but then I saw the slightest quiver of his lip. I was at his side a second later.

Zayn clung to me as the tears burst forth. I knew he was trying to be strong, be tough, like how he thought a real man should.

He cried for about ten minutes. I just held him, trying to convey that I was here for him, no matter what. I knew what it was like to lose someone you loved and it was as if a hot spike was driven through your heart, leaving a gaping hole. My Grandad had died when I was fifteen from cancer. It had been a long and painful process, but at least I had gotten to say goodbye. Zayn, however, didn’t have that chance.

After a while, he pulled away and sat up straight, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

“She was like a second mother to me,” he sniffed. “When my mum couldn’t make to my things or pick me up from school or whatever…she would always be there.”

“I’m so sorry Zayn,” I said softly, knowing how useless those words really were.

“And she’s gone,” he continued, as if he didn’t hear me. “Just like that…gone.”

I reached over and held his hand, leaning my head on his shoulder. I didn’t know if it helped him, but being close with someone did help me when I went through a tragedy. He wouldn’t feel 100% comfortable crying in front of the lads, but maybe he did with me.

“Ugh, I have to stop crying,” he said, trying to sound light, but his voice broke.

“No, you don’t,” I replied. “Crying can be very therapeutic.”

“This, coming from the girl who never cries.”

“And you see how crazy I am?” I asked, giving him a smile. “I’m afraid of babies. I am probably the only person on the planet that doesn’t get along with my Mum, and I actually enjoy winding up directioners. Believe me, it’s a good thing that you’re crying. Or else you would be a heartless wench like me.”

He smiled a bit at that, finally looking back up at me. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He didn’t look happier - not that I was expecting him to - but at least it was something.

“Thank you, JJ,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ve said it before, but I’m really glad you came with us.”

“Me too,” I smiled, pulling him into another hug.

Whether or not Zayn slept that night, I’m not sure. I did stay with him and though I wanted to stay awake and comfort him if needed, I fell into a dreamless sleep myself. I woke up the next morning when Paul came to get Zayn to take him the airport. I was tangled in the duvet, trying to get out of the bed when Paul walked in, raising an eyebrow at me. Zayn, unlike every other morning, was already awake (which is what made me question whether or not he had actually slept at all), and made quick work of packing his things.

The boys were all up early and down in restaurant when we made it down for breakfast. Any other day off and they would have been sleeping until noon, but because they knew Zayn was off on an early flight, they all woke up to see him off. Breakfast was a dreary affair - the somber mood was only compounded by the torrential rain outside and the soggy eggs we were served. Zayn was exceptionally quiet during the meal (as were we all), and the silence continued after he got in his taxi and headed off to the airport.

I sat there, absentminded pushing my eggs around my plate, waiting for someone to say something. No one volunteered (except the brief moment where Niall asked me to pass him the salt). Eventually, Paul emerged and sat down with us in Zayn’s empty seat.

“Alright you lot, I know this is hard for you, but we’re going to have keep going without Zayn.”

“You mean, like, perform without him?” Niall asked, looking distraught.

I was sure none of the boys had actually thought about the fact that they had upcoming shows - all of their concern was with their friend. But now that the problem had been pointing out, they all looked concerned.

“For the time being, yes,” Paul said sadly. “I’ve spoken briefly with Management back in London and it seems like the best course of action. Zayn should be back in a week, so until then, we’ll have to make do. I hate to do this to you boys, but under the circumstance, we’re going to have cut your free day short. We’ll need this afternoon to rehearse and figure out how to fill in the gaps.”

None of the boys complained, after all, a loss of a few hours of free time was nothing compared with what Zayn was going through.

“You’ll still have this morning, though,” Paul said, as a consolation. “I’ve got a ton of phone calls to make. So, if you think you can behave yourselves, you’re on your own.”

“Really?” Louis asked, surprised. “We can do what we want?”

“Within reason,” Paul warned, as the boys smiled for the first time this morning.

“Going out and having fun today just…it just doesn’t seem right anymore, does it?” Harry said then, still looking uncomfortable. “Not without Zayn, at least.”

“Nah, not really,” Niall agreed, hands shoved in his pockets.

“But you need to,” I said, looking at all of them. “You need to go out and relax a bit, or you’ll burn out. And Zayn wouldn’t want you all moping around on his account.”

“We could go to Niagara Falls,” Liam suggested, flipping through the Toronto visitors guide he had picked up in the lobby. “I’m sure we can get a taxi there or something.”

“Yeah,” Louis, drawing pictures on his plate with the ketchup, “cause that doesn’t sound boring at all.”

“Well, it’s better than sitting here,” Liam replied, though he didn’t sound overly enthused about the idea either.

“It’s pouring out,” I said. “Do we want to do something outside in weather like this?”

They all shook their heads - it would be one thing if it was in the middle of summer, but it was hovering just above freezing now and getting soaked through would not be ideal.

In the end, we settled on going to the CN Tower. It would take an overly long time to visit, and since the boys needed to be at rehearsal in the afternoon, it seemed like a safe enough choice. It also didn’t feel like we were cheating Zayn out of anything fun, since he was afraid of heights and probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it anyway.

Luckily, since it was a week day and mid-morning, it wasn’t too crowded – mostly just Asian tourists and a few primary school groups – no one to be too concerned about, and the indoor observation deck wasn’t crowded at all.

I leaned against the railing, looking down to the street. We were so incredibly high in the air – it was amazing to see how small the world looked from up here, to think about how insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things. My brother and the boys might be some of the most sought after artists on the planet, but when we were so far up in the clouds, not of that really mattered.

Louis appeared next to me and jumped up onto the first bar of the railing, leaning forward against the glass to balance himself.

“I’m higher than you are!” he bragged.

“Lou, you are always higher than me. I’m four inches shorter than you.”

“Yes, but now, I’m even higher.”

“Poor JJ,” Niall said, coming over to join us. “Always the shortest of the bunch.”

“You’re just happy it isn’t you anymore,” Louis teased.

Niall and I glanced at each other. “Alright, come here,” he said to me, squatting down and wrapping his arms around my thighs. Before I could even protest in being treated like a rag doll, Niall had lifted me up so that I was an inch or two about Louis.

I felt awkward, one because Niall’s face was pressed uncomfortably into my hip and two, because he was quiet obviously straining to hold me up. Louis merely laughed though, unperturbed, as he took a step up onto the next highest railing.

“Well, we tried,” Niall gasped, trying to look like he wasn’t breathing heavily. I patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

“You’re not going to give up at easily, are you?” Liam asked, coming up with an amused grin on his face.

“It’s really not a big deal,” I started, but stopped in slight shock and terror as Liam jumped behind me, squatted down and stuck his head between my knees.

“Hold on,” he said, grabbing a hold of my thighs and standing up.

I squeaked in surprise as I was lifted off the ground, Liam’s strong hands holding me tightly in place on his shoulders. I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks as I looked back at Niall, who gave me a knowing smile.

Now I really was the highest person in Toronto. I probably would have flaunted it a lot more had I not been so hyper-focused on the fact that I was on Liam’s shoulders.

“How’s it feel up there?” He asked me with a smile. I grinned down at him, my heart swelling.

“Amazing.”

Dropping back down the ground, Liam let me off of his shoulders. Louis frowned and pouted about being knocked his thrown, but I ignored him, my attention elsewhere. I caught sight of Harry, sitting on a bench further down, staring off into the dreary distance.

Leaving the others, I went to join him, sliding into the vacant space beside him and nudging him with my shoulder. “How are ya, Haz?”

“I’m good,” he said, giving me a genuine smile. “I’m just thinking. About stuff.”

“About Zayn?” I asked, quietly.

“Yeah, a bit,” he shrugged. “It’s weird that he’s not here.”

“He’ll be back soon. You guys will be okay.”

Harry smiled again and nodded. “I know we will, it just isn’t the same.”

Hoping to lighten the mood a bit, I leaned into him. “Haz…you’re Zarry is showing.”

He laughed then, his green eyes lighting up. “What can I say? My Zarry is just so huge.”

“Ew, okay,” I chucked. “That’s gone too far now.”

“But it’s not nearly as impressive as my Jarry. That’s massive.”

“What the fuck is a Jarry?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.

Harry’s smile only grew as he pulled out his phone. “Haven’t you been reading your tweets? We’re the next big thing, JJ! Course, they don’t actually know who you are but they’ve assumed you’re name begins with a J because of your Twitter handle.”

“Wait. Hold up,” I said, confused. “What are you talking about?” In response, Harry held up his phone for me to see. “What the hell is that?!”

I grabbed the phone away from him to better read the SugarScape article loaded on the screen. There was a pretty clear photo of me and Harry, hands interlocked, trying to get through the crowd after the interview yesterday. I looked awful, while Harry, of course, looked fabulous.

But, that’s beside the point, underneath was an article:

Larry Stylinson No More?!

Be still our fangirling hearts! Has Harry Styles found himself a companion of the female variety to replace Louis Tomlinson in his affections? Say it ain’t so!

Well, actually, no one has actually said that it is so, but speculation that Mr. Styles is no longer on the market (not that he ever was, since Larry Stylinson is REAL, damn it) has conquered the internet since the above photo was released. Hazza, it seems, brought his lady friend along to an interview taping Toronto and wasn’t about to let the helpless maiden be crushed by his adoring fans (excuse us for a moment while we imagine Harry dressed in a suit of armor and riding a gallant white horse).

Okay, better now.

While there is little to go on to identify this lucky lady, most seem to think she is JJintheSky, or at least, that’s what her Twitter is. Harry has already (cheekily) admitted to keeping her up all night (no doubt playing Uno and watching The Aristocats, those crazy kids), but our mystery girl was also spotted out and about with James from Big Time Rush. 1D are currently on tour with the Nickolodeon boy band, so this encounter can easily be written off, but the question remains…who is she and how has she managed to keep in control surrounded by the undeniable bag of hotness that is 1D?

That being said, we already sort of like Jarry IntheStyles. She’s apparently a Beatles fan and if we cut her hair and stuck her in a striped shirt, she could pass as our beloved Louis (the plan to do this has already been concocted in our warped minds, fear not).

Any idea who the lovely lass is? We give it less than 24 hours before a positive identification is made. We know how skilled you Directioners are at stalk- erm – research.

I looked up at him, blinking. “Are you bloody serious? They called me a helpless maiden. What the fuck is that?’

Harry laughed. “I’m glad that that is the only part you’re upset over.”

“That and I’m going to have a bajillion follower requests from your psycho fans.” I sighed, pulling out my phone. And of course, the number of requests had jumped up by nearly…holy shit. 213,000.

“Just make it a public account,” Harry suggested. “And also, don’t look at your mentions. You probably won’t like what you see.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care what they have to say about me.” This was mostly true. I was interested in looking, but I knew that most of them wouldn’t be very nice. It didn’t bother me too much, in the end, if I just ignored it.

“Can we have a little fun with them, then?” he asked, sounding excited. I was going to agree, but then I remembered the conversation I had had with Simon.

“Best not,” I replied sulkily, before sending a Tweet.

‘I am NOT dating @Harry_Styles. He smells.’

“Mature,” Harry muttered, glancing at his phone. “And I can’t help it that I smell.”

“You never bathe…”

“Do you know how much grease it takes to keep these curls so bouncy? I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Besides, the smell is completely irrelevant since I’m so god damn good looking.”

“Humble, too,” Niall commented, joining us. “What’s this about?”

“Apparently, we’re dating,” I replied.

“Were dating,” Harry interjected, sounding offended. “I’m breaking up with you now, since you’ve insulted me. Bruised my ego, you did.”

“That’s fine,” I shrugged indifferently, standing up and wrapping my arms around Niall’s middle. “That just means there’s nothing standing between me and Irish running away together, like we’ve always wanted.”

Niall beamed. “I can finally profess my undying love and devotion! Come my love, let’s run off into the sunset!”

“I can’t believe I was such a fool,” Harry mock-sobbed, “to think you every truly loved me.”

“Yeah well, you’ve never been the brightest bulb in the box, now have you, Styles?” I asked, patting him on the head.

My phone buzzed then and I looked at the new mention from Harry.

Harry_Styles: Apparently what @JJintheSky and I had wasn’t special…and she’s found someone new already @NiallOfficial.

“Oh, now you’ve gone and done it,” I admonished, giving Harry a disappointed look. “If they didn’t like me before, they definitely won’t now. They’ll think I’m a slag!”

“Who thinks you’re a slag?” Louis asked, as he and Liam returned from a vending machine and joined our little group.

“Your fans, thanks to Harry. He basically just told them that I dumped him for Niall.”

“I was kidding,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yes, because your fans are so good at taking jokes.”

All of our phones buzzed then and I groaned when I saw what it was, while the boys laughed.

JoshDevineDrums: But…I thought I was dating @JJintheSky??

“Well, now I’m definitely a slag.”

“No, JJ, think about it,” Louis said, grinning. “If they all text it, everyone will know it’s a joke. And then I’ll text that you’re my sister and it will all be over with.”

“Already sent,” Liam announced, holding up his phone for us to see.

Real_Liam_Payne: I don’t know if @DaniellePeazer and I are willing to share @JJintheSky

If only that were true…minus the Danielle part, of course.

While the boys laughed and discussed what else they could say to their incredibly gullible fans, I took a quick peak at my mentions, too curious to let them go. Some were harmless:

Who is @JJintheSky and why does all of @onedirection love her??

Or:

I would give anything to be @JJintheSky and get tweets from all the boys!!

But then, as I continued, the hate appears.

@JJintheSky I hope you die you dumb cunt, go rot in hell

@JJintheSky Stay away from my boys your ugly fuck, they don’t want a whore like you

@JJintheSky I will slit your throat you slut, I will kill you I swear

The last one was particularly disturbing and I closed the application quickly. It amazed me how people could be so cruel, so obsessive, so crazed, and yet not even connect the dots. All the boys followed me, and also my Mum and all my sisters…how the hell had no one figured this out yet?? I doubted I would get much hate once it was out there that I was related to Louis.

“Lou, you gonna send yours?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Just did,” he grinned.

Louis_Tomlinson: seems like my baby sis @JJintheSky is more popular than I am…I’m happy she could come on tour though!

“Thanks,” I said, sliding my phone back into my bag, not planning on checking Twitter for another week or so, and effectively ending the conversation.

Again, I wasn’t overly bothered by it - I had been warned, after all - but I still wasn’t nice to read some of those things. We stood in an awkward little circle for a moment, seemingly bored and done with the adventure to the top of Toronto.

“So,” Niall said, draping an arm around my shoulders. “Who’s hungry?”