CHAPTER FIVE

                                    

                                          
HARRY/PRESENT
                          
Much like Louis, Zayn's food philosophy was: deep-fry everything. Darby was grateful for the effort but was in no way prepared for a mess of that magnitude at eight in the morning. It was like a grease bomb went off splattering our walls and appliances. The sink was stacked high with dishes and he somehow managed to use every one of our utensils.
                          
"Breathe Darby."
                          
It was a heart attack on a plate, but insanely delicious. Zayn's food reminded me of late nights that bled into dawn. I could practically taste the hangover.
                          
"Aren't you going to tell him?" Darby asked. I looked up from my plate.
                          
"Tell him what?"
                          
"About your music. Harry's been writing again."
                          
"Ah that's great! You should come over to my label, it'll be like old times."
                          
"No, no labels. I'm not ready yet."
                          
"Can't hurt to have a conversation. I can put you in touch with A&R or my mana—I mean, my producer, I mean, never mind."
                          
My eyes narrowed. "What were you going to say?"
                          
"Nothing." Zayn shovelled a large bite into his mouth like he was trying to gag himself.
                          
"Who's managing you?"
                          
"You know I love you right?"
                          
"I can't believe this."
                          
"You're being unreasonable."
                          
Darby's eyes darted between us like she was watching a tennis match.
                          
"After how Modest treated us?"
                          
"Louis' like my brother. Like you." Zayn reached across the table. Begrudgingly I took his hand. 
                          
Darby wrote the quintessential article on our band's dissolution. She had followed our group for years and knew most us inside and out before she even met us. But a piece of the puzzle had always nagged her. The official reason for the break-up. It's not that she didn't believe the answer it was that there was no answer. Liam was the first to speak out and towed the party line, that we had grown apart and wanted to pursue other interests. 
                          
I was aware that when she listened to these conversations, she wasn't only listening as a concerned fiancé but as a journalist, someone who couldn't help but seek the truth. Not long after we got together, she interviewed everyone in the band about the break-up, with my consent of course. The only one who wouldn't speak to her was Louis. He ignored her calls and emails and when she finally did track him down at a the Soda Club in Montreal, he took her phone which she used to record interviews and chucked it into a pint of beer. Ever since then, she had the sneaking suspicion that there was more to the story than we were all letting on.
                          
***
                          
Liam never knocked. Maybe it was an old habit from our days on the road, but we all had serious issues with boundaries. He brought Sophia and the twins, who treated our un-childproofed flat like an amusement park. Zayn opened his arms and the two girls tackled him.
                          
"They're huge, man! Soon they're gonna have boyfriends."
                          
"Don't listen to your uncle Zayn," Liam said sternly. "You will most definitely never have boyfriends."
                          
Sophia was an olive-skinned bohemian with an easy laugh and effortless poise. Like Darby and me their diametrically opposed personalities seemed to balance each other out. Sophia owned a vintage clothing store renowned for its lost treasures by fashion greats. She'd actually never heard about our band before she met Liam. She mostly listened to her dad's old Jazz albums. She had a vinyl collection that could rival Darby's. Cordelia and Bedelia had her glossy chocolate mane but their father's inquisitive expression. 
                          
Liam pretended not to be too excited that Zayn was there, but I could see the glint of a tear in the corner of his eye at the sight of his old friend holding his children. This is how it was supposed to be. All of us together. Always.
                          
They embraced, Zayn affectionately rubbing the peach fuzz on Liam's head. Liam clasping the back of Zayn's neck, their foreheads pressed together as though they were two halves finally made whole. 
                          
Sophia cleared her throat and broke the spell they were under. 
                          
Liam straightened his button-down. "Right then. Niall is coming next week. He'll stay with Soph and me," he said referring to his moleskin notebook filled with wedding plans. 
                          
Liam knew more about this event than I did. At first I chalked it up to his anal-retentive passion for planning but secretly I worried it was something more than that. Did I not care enough? I loved Darby, why wasn't I more excited about all this?

                          
"Is he bringing Kasey," I asked.
                          
"Sadly, Nacey is no more. But don't tell anyone, they're going to release a statement."
                          
Poor Niall. He'd been dating a TV actress in California and were hounded by paps since the day they met. Niall was desperate to move but she needed to be in LA for work, a terrible show about psychic nurse. He was in Page Six and TMZ daily. Apparently, Kasey was sleeping with all of her costars, which was most probably a lie, but like I knew well enough, if you hear a lie long enough it can start to feel like the truth.    

                          


                          
A/N: If there's anything you'd like to see more of in the story let me know in comments!