Epilogue

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March 2016

More stories. Same tabloids. No longer just rumours. Instead, correct conclusions.

The Daily Mail. Hollywood Life. Sugarscape. The Mirror 3am.

This time not all bullshit, but clear photos of us kissing outside Lagoon and further speculation about the length of our relationship. The significance of the date has been picked up by the fans and circulated wildly across all social media channels along with the headlines and articles about me and Jess. 

HARRY HAS A GIRLFRIEND... it's official... Cambridge graduate Jessica Bradshaw... together on and off since 2015... pictured together in London and LA over the last year... full on PDA outside London nightspot Lagoon... currently on hiatus from boyband One Direction... beginning a solo career in music, film and television... 

Television? Really? That's news to me. Good job Sugarscape knows more about my life than I do. 

Long term girlfriend... looked drunk and happy together as they left the club hand in hand... singer has always remained tight-lipped about his private life... could it be that this one is for keeps? 

My stomach gives a slow roll and a pleasant tingle as I read that last sentence. 

The two follow each other on instagram and Twitter... Previous love interests include Sara Sampaio, Taylor Swift and Kendall Jenner... 

My stomach gives another roll - an uncomfortable one this time at the sight of Sara's name linked to mine, but it's definitely lessening as time goes on. 

Mail Online has contacted Styles' representative for comment. 

Good to know.

~~~~

July 2016 

I open the door of my hotel room and throw my bag on the bed before scurrying into the bathroom, the door slamming behind me as I reach into the shower and switch the water on. Jess is due to arrive in about twenty minutes - she has already texted me to let me know her flight has landed and she is making her way to the waiting car. I hurriedly strip my clothes off and step under the jets, screwing my face up against the flow of the water as it bounces off my skin. I turn around and lean back so the water cascades over the back of my head, squirting far too much shampoo into my hand (I still haven't got used to the length of my hair since I had it cut and it's been nearly two months) and massaging it into a lather. I'm back out again in less than five minutes, a towel wrapped around my waist as I open the bag I had flung on the bed, rummage around and pull out my army uniform costume that I have snuck off set. We're on a four day break from filming and I concluded that no one would notice if I borrowed this while we were away. I know someone who will more than appreciate it, and if I'm not careful she's going to arrive while I'm standing here holding it and grinning like an idiot, and completely ruin the surprise. I made sure I brought the clean version - there are several filthy ones for some of the dirtier scenes that will appear later in the film but this one is clean and unmarked. 

I pull the towel from around my waist and use it to dry my hair vigorously, before grabbing some underwear and stepping carefully into the uniform. I won't lie - I feel a little self conscious and a  bit silly, but if there's one person in the world I trust not to laugh at me, it's Jess. I straighten the collar and fasten the buttons, turning this way and that in the mirror to check I look OK and once I'm satisfied I pick up my phone to see if there is an update from Jess. She hasn't texted me since she told me she was on her way to the car, and I sit down on the edge of the bed and scroll up our message thread to the selfie I sent her of me, Fionn Whitehead and Aneurin Barnard on set a week or so ago in between shooting, in full costume. 

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