After all of the shit we had been through lately, Harry and I decided to call Gemma and have her babysit Noah and Ivy, and then take a car into London and stay out into the early hours, blind drunk.

Even after all of the stuff with Will, it was a way of keeping the fire in our relationship alive, and we needed it. We needed to just go out, as a pair, and get obliterated together. To fall in and out of pretentious, expensive members-only clubs. That’s exactly what we did.

“Call a car.” Harry slurred over the music of whatever club we had gone to. Liam was a total party-goer and recommended it to us, since he’d be there for a few hours that night. “I can’t feel my legs."

For such a worrying statement, he laughed a lot. I erupted into a fit of giggles next to him, trying to claw forwards for the bottle of champagne on our table.

“Nunah,” Harry grabbed my arm back. “I can barely look after myself, and if you get anymore drunk I’m afraid we’ll spend the night sleeping in this booth.”
“Shall we?” I called back, having trouble focusing straight. Harry shook his head and gave a bleary-eyed grin.
“Home. Now. We’re completely smashed.” He poked my side and I managed to extend my legs, strong enough to hold me up on my heels for about five seconds before stumbling back. Harry grabbed me, and stumbled back himself, only narrowly missing a complete fall to the floor by grabbing onto the gentleman’s shoulder behind him.

“Sorry, mate. Sorry.” He looked around him. “Er, here, have this."

Harry thrust the bottle of champagne in the mans lap, and he looked pleased enough. I tugged on his arm, making our way through the crowds but not spotting Liam to say goodnight to. We eventually made it into the confines of our car after Harry almost fell into a girl he had stopped for a picture for, but she seemed tearfully jubilant at her prospective new profile-picture in any case.

“We have got to go through the drive-thru, mate, is there a drive-thru round here?” Harry was literally falling about the car, still struggling to plug his seat-belt into the clasp about five minutes after we had left. I clumsily tried to help him and ended up head butting him.
“There’s one in Islington, mate, but it’s not on the route, I’ll warn you.” The driver clearly had no patience for two drunken celebrities in the back of his car, stinking the place out of alcohol.
“Fine, fine.” Harry waved his hands. “That’s alright."

The last glass of champagne I had had had hit me now, and in a bad way. As Harry leaned his head out of the window to shout his order of a Big Mac meal to the attendant, I leaned my head out to throw up. Now I look back, I want to cry of laughter at the scene, Harry staring intently into the burger he was devouring, the driver becoming more and more irritated, and me being sick out of the side of his cab.

“Love you.” Harry said, when my head was on his lap next to his portion of chips, concentrating on my breathing so I wouldn’t vomit everywhere.
“Love you too.”
“Chip?” He forced one in my face.
“Eeeeuuughh."
“Lightweight.” He said, breathing heavily through his chews and being clumsy with his chip-in-sauce-dipping.

I wanted to utter some obscenities at him, but even though I felt so drunk I was leaving my body, I was so happy and care-free. We were having laughs, jokes. We were nineteen again. On tour, in some part of the world we’d only heard of. It was all very real and very needed.

Even when I stumbled up the front step and tripped, grazing my knee on the floor and Harry came straight up behind me and fell straight on top of me, I couldn’t help but erupt into full-scale fits of laughter.

“Fuck sake, lost my burger.” He stood, hands on hips, genuinely trying to find it on the gravel beside the front step. I straightened myself out, trying to find the keyhole long enough to turn the key and let us inside.

I limped into the kitchen and for some reason, thought that lying on the floor might ease the feeling that I was on a rocky boat. The room was spinning and all Harry did was slump against the island next to me, and watch, onto his third course, a McFlurry.

“Errr, Annieeee. Annie.” He groaned. “Off the kitchen floor love."

The term ‘drunk people looking after drunker people’ couldn’t have rang more true. Harry grabbed hold of my shoulders and yanked me up. On his third attempt I lifted, and stumbled into him.

“Put me to beeeeeeed.” I sighed, starting to feel that splitting pain down the middle of my head. It must have been the late hours of the middle of the night. The hangover would take over soon.

Harry and I stumbled and fell and slipped up the steps to our bedroom, wishing that there weren’t as many. I flopped onto the bed as soon as it came into view, and Harry fought with his t-shirt to bring it over his head. Stripped down to his boxers, he flopped down next to me.

“Do you think he’s watching us?” I said, mumbling against the mattress.
“Who?”
“Will!” I said irritably.

Harry looked up in the general direction of the terrace, the blinds still pulled up.
“Nah.”
“Cuddle.” I moaned.
“Too drunk. You come hereee.” He flapped his arm against the mattress, trying to feel for me. I scooted next to him, fully clothed, and blacked out, into one of those odd, wakey-uppy sleeps.

---

The sunlight was shining straight onto my right eye when I woke up. My head swam with the leftover alcohol in it. I felt a wave of nausea as I forced myself up onto my hands and knees, flipping over and scooting to the side of the bed.

“Oh, God.” I moaned. “Oh, my, God.” I rubbed my head against the heel of my hand. Where the hell was Harry?

I stood up, shakily, realising that I had only managed to take my shirt off last night and forgot about the shorts on my lower half. I cringed further at the sunlight and moved like the hunchback over to the first drawer I found, picking out the first t-shirt I found.

I tip-toed downstairs and saw Harry, sitting on the couch with his back to me.

“Remind me that we are parents and are never going out again.” I sighed, walking over to him, just as whatever he was watching on the T.V. ended. I expected a smile and a nod. Instead I was greeted with a cold shun.

“What’s wrong?” I looked down at him, but he wouldn’t look at me. I wondered what I had done last night to annoy him. I was pretty sure we had ended on a great note. “What are you watching?”
“You fuck your ex-boyfriends brains out, apparently.” He said suddenly, his eyes snapped up to mine, and he pushed himself off of the couch, although it obviously pained him to. I was totally stunned. “When were you going to tell me you cheated?”
“Cheated? I.. what the fuck?” I said, searching for words. “Cheated on you?”
“Watch the fucking video, if you don’t remember it so well. It’s very detailed. Very descriptive.” He looked like he was trying to stop himself grabbing hold of me. His knuckles were white. “It was put through our door this morning. Hand delivered. I wonder who by."

Harry stormed into the kitchen, and the smash of dishes I heard told me he must have thrown a lot of plates to the ground. I started to shake with fear. I sat down in Harry’s seat, restarted the video, and only five seconds in, I knew exactly what it was. My hand involuntarily came to rest over my mouth, as my jaw dropped.

It was a sex tape.

Notes

WOOOOOAH WILLLL!

What do you think? Did Annie cheat? Is will stitching her up? What is this video about?