It took several hours for me to come down off my caffeinated high. Who needs drugs when you can just down Red Bull, eh? The only after-effect was the horrific splitting headache that kicked in at lunchtime, where I lay on the sofa of the McFly with my head on Zac’s lap while he dabbed my forehead with a cool, damp flannel. (There had been a rather uncomfortable moment at the airport when Zac realised I was supposed to be driving him home on my motorbike, to which he refused to let me do. A small fight had broke out, which ended when I suddenly started slapping the side of my head and screaming as loudly as I could, to which Zac responded by slamming a helmet on my head and took control of my bike. I was still sulking at how bloody slowly he’d driven in… The whole point of a motorbike is to GO FAST. He drove like an old woman and we ended up getting back to the McFly house nearly half an hour later than if I’d been driving. Grr…) Tom, Danny and Marty found the whole thing to be rather amusing (especially as they knew the reason WHY I’d gone mad for the stimulant drink) and while Tom and Danny were on their best behaviour, Marty chose to sneak around and make veiled references to Harry deflowering me (again) on my Powerpuff Girls bed-spread sheet. (WHAT?! Powerpuff Girls rock!! … Even if this is coming from a 25 year old gay bloke.)

“So Zac, how was the trip back?” Tom asked, entering the room with pain-killers and water for me. I groaned and winced against the noise.

“It was great! There was that new Lindsay Lohan movie as the in-flight film, so that killed the time,” he said with a smile, wiping my forehead and helping me to swallow the painkillers. I had such a caring, attentive boyfriend… why the bloody hell did I have to go cheat on him?!

“These guys were in a Lindsay Lohan movie once,” Marty said with a nasty grin and gesture at me, Tom and Danny. “Their then-drummer copped it off with her.”

“Who hasn’t?” Zac replied, although I noticed that his tone had gotten a fraction colder at the Harry reference. Eeeep...

“When was the last time you saw him, Doug?” Marty continued, looking at me all wide-eyed innocence as I saw Tom and Danny shoot amused looks at each other.

I tried to shrug. “About five years ago or so,” I lied.

“Really? I could have sworn it was less than that! Wow, the time sure does fly, doesn’t it?!”

I could have killed him. Slowly and painfully, the last thing that boy would see would be my hands wrapping around his neck!!

Zac meanwhile, was dabbing the flannel at the cuts on my face from the night before. “Poor Dougie,” he murmured. “Want me to kiss it better?”

Harry leans over and kisses my cheek carefully, aware of the cuts, his hands tracing down my sides over the bruises so lightly that the pain barely registers.

“You OK?” he whispers.

I nod. “So much more now,” I say with a grin.

I sat up instantly and shook my head frantically. “I’m OK, really!!”

Mental Note: DON’T do sudden movements. They hurt.

Zac looked slightly confused, if not a bit hurt. “Are you sure? I mean, I really think you should have gone to the police about it all.”

I shake my head again. “It’s OK, really, thanks Harry, but I’m fine!” I gabbled.

Tom dropped his cup of tea, which landed on the floor with a loud crash and Danny gasped, slapping his hand to his mouth in horror. I looked at Zac, who was now staring at me with his eyes wide and this time with unmistakable hurt.

“What?!”

“You – You called me ‘Harry’,” he said in a low voice.

Oh… SHIT.

“I wasn’t thinking!!” I said quickly. “Well, I mean I was thinking, but it’s just Marty mentioning Harry made me suddenly think of him and I was still kinda thinking of him when you said you should kiss my cuts better! Oh fuck, not in that way!!! I meant I was just thinking about Harry in a non-platonic, explicitly sexual way!! FUCK!! I meant non-sexual, explicitly platonic!!”

I slapped a hand to my forehead. “You’re not buying this, are you?” I asked weakly.

He shook his head and folded his arms, glaring at me. “Not in the slightest.”

“Ooo, would you look at that – The phone’s ringing!” Tom said, jumping up. “It’s one of those high-pitched ones, you need ears like a dog to hear it.”

“I’ll help you with that,” Danny said, getting up and walking out with him. Marty remained sitting on the floor, staring eagerly at me and Zac until Danny stuck his arm around the door and yanked him out by the scruff of his neck, slamming the door behind them.