No Control (Book 1)

1. Girl Almighty

March 2015

I had just opened the door on my way into my flat when I felt my phone start to vibrate in my bag. I fished around for it while clumsily shutting the door behind me with my foot and dropping my keys on the table. I pulled the phone out and swiped to answer it.

"Hey Callie."

"Jess! I've been trying you for an hour! Why haven't you picked up?!" Callie demanded.

"You know I get no network on the tube," I replied, heading into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"Gross." I could hear the pout in Callie's voice.

"What's the matter?" I asked, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I pulled last night's leftover chilli out and put it in the microwave.

"I need you to come to some house party tonight with me. James has asked me to meet him there but I won't know anyone apart from him and I need safety in numbers."

James was Callie's boyfriend of a couple of months. They were currently still in the staring-into-each-other's-eyes, permanent-hand-holding, can't-go-five-minutes-without-kissing honeymoon period. I was happy for her, but it was undeniably nauseating to watch.

"Really?" I replied, unenthusiastically. "I've had a long week at work and I was kind of looking forward to a night on the sofa with a cup of tea-"

Callie snorted, cutting me off. "Christ, Jess you sound about forty. It's Friday night, you're single, and there will more than likely be loads of fit men there. Have a shower, wash your hair, make yourself look hot" (she emphasised this) "and I'll pick you up in a taxi at eight."

"I haven't got anything to wear," I protested halfheartedly, knowing from experience that I had already lost this argument.

"Your black skinnies, your black Louboutins and that off the shoulder top you wore to my sister's birthday meal last month," Callie replied immediately. She had clearly anticipated my reluctance and was forearmed.

"I don't think I can face heels," I moaned.

"They make your legs look like they go up to your armpits. I need you to look sexy as hell," Callie insisted. "Wavy hair, smoky eyes, red lips. The whole hog."

"Bloody hell, what's the big deal? It's just a house party," I sighed as I flopped onto the sofa and flicked the television on.

"Get your arse off the sofa and get in the shower!" Callie snapped. "You never know when you might meet the man of your dreams. Always be prepared. Best underwear and everything."

I laughed out loud at this. "How do you know I'm on the sofa? Anyway, Harry Styles is hardly going to show up at a random house party is he?"

"Oh, bloody Harry Styles again," Callie sniffed, and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Just make the effort. I'll see you at eight." 

I should probably take this opportunity to explain myself.

I am twenty-two years old, live and work in London, and my guilty pleasure is One Direction. Well, Harry Styles to be precise. I took my then-thirteen-year-old sister to a concert on their Take Me Home tour two years ago as a birthday treat with 2 of her friends, and it kick-started my obsession. I know, I know; I'm way too old to be screaming over a pop band like a teenager, but seriously, I have got it so bad for Harry Styles. Everyone who knows me thinks I'm a lunatic. I have notifications switched on for when he tweets and everything. Speaking of which...

My twitter alert sounded, and I picked up my phone from where I had dropped it wearily beside me after Callie's call.

@Harry_Styles Excited to be back on British soil for a couple of weeks. Australia, Japan, you were amazing .x

I had seen on the Daily Mail app that the boys were due home for a week in between touring; apparently they had landed. I looked again at the tweet. It already had sixteen thousand favourites and nineteen thousand retweets. I shook my head in disbelief. I didn't understand how anyone could cope with that level of adoration. Then again, I didn't understand how anyone could be quite that drop-dead-gorgeous. It was all relative, really.

I sighed, plugged my phone in to charge and went into the bathroom to run a bath. While it was filling up, I went to my wardrobe and flipped through the hangers looking for something to wear. I smiled to myself as I ended up selecting the exact outfit Callie suggested. The jeans and Louboutins did wonders for my legs and the top showed off my shoulders. I laid them out ready, stuck Midnight Memories on my iPod and headed back into the bathroom for a long soak.

I was ready by quarter to eight. I had blow-dried my hair into soft waves, gone for a smoky look around my eyes and finished it off with some cherry lipgloss. I'd quickly wolfed down my dinner, and indulged in a glass of wine to get me in the mood. While I was waiting, I fired a quick text to Callie.

To: Callie: Ready now. You never told me whose party it was? x

A minute later my phone pinged.

From: Callie: It's a guy called Josh. Apparently he's one of Nick Grimshaw's mates or something?!?! x

I almost dropped my phone in shock. I stared numbly at the screen for a couple of minutes and then tapped a reply back, my heart thumping.

To: Callie: The Radio 1 DJ???? Harry Styles' mate????? Where are you? xx

Her response was almost immediate.

From: Callie: Yes and YES GET OVER HIM. In cab.

Wow. I couldn't believe that Callie was going out with someone who knew someone who might know Nick Grimshaw who could potentially introduce me to Harry Styles! (I know, I know, it would never never actually happen, but my deluded inner fangirl secretly believes one day it might).

To: Callie: I'm cool. Hurry up xx

From: Callie: Outside 

And as if on cue, a cab horn sounded outside the window.

I grabbed my keys and bag, shut the door behind me and walked down the stairs to the waiting car.

"WOW!" Callie squealed, beaming, as I opened the door and slid in beside her. "Bloody hell Jess, you look absolutely amazing!"

"Thanks," I smiled. "You look pretty great yourself."

The cab swung around and headed in the direction of Primrose Hill. After about 15 minutes it pulled up outside a big house on a leafy street, with a sweeping driveway and a fountain on the front lawn.

"Fancy," I remarked, impressed.

We climbed out of the car and Callie paid the driver, flashing him a cheeky smile as she waited for her change. I adjusted my hair and tucked my bag under my arm as we walked up the driveway, the sound of laughter and conversation drifting towards us from the house in the evening air.

"You are looking seriously foxy," Callie observed, looking me up and down. "Ten out of ten for effort."

"Yeah alright, you'll make me blush," I teased, and she grinned and linked arms with me as we negotiated the gravel in unsuitable heels, and finally stepped onto smooth paving. She let go of my arm and walked on ahead of me, between two mighty, white pillars and up a couple of steps to the front door.

"By the way, Harry Styles is going to be here tonight," she said casually, and rang the bell.