Scandal | H.S.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟕

McKenna Prentiss | March 31, 2018 | Madrid, Spain

    Netherlands, Belgium, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Germany, the last two weeks have flown by as quick as I had wanted it to go.

    I've avoided Harry like the plague for the last two weeks, and I guess he finally got the memo when I had asked for my own hotel room, instead of sleeping in his.

    He's tried to talk to me, taking every chance he could by waiting for me by my room, hanging by my dressing room, heck he even tried locking me in with him inside the vocal room in Germany one night, but I kept my mouth shut. He knows what he did, I shouldn't be the one to confront him.

    He had so many times, so many chances to tell me what had happened, but he didn't. He made his bed, now it's time for him to lay in it.

    Nobody but Mitch and I knew what happened, I never told anyone, but Zoe was starting to get suspicious as to why I had asked for a separate room.

    Which brings us here, she's standing right in front of me, hands on her hips as she tries to suss out what happened in the last two weeks.

    "Well?" She prods, her brow raising as if she was accusing me of something, raise that brow somewhere else lady.

    "What do you mean, well?" I honestly didn't want to talk about it if I'm being honest, it's done, it's over, I just want to move on.

    "Why are you hiding out here, when we could go out? Do some sight-seeing? And why are you avoiding Harry? God knows how many calls I had to take asking me about how you are." She rambles on, arms moving around animatedly as she lists down things I already know, "You've been acting weird since the Paris show. Have you gone on being a selective mute or something?"

    "I'm talking to you aren't I?" I address her last statement, not really bothering to tell her what had happened with Harry.

    "Seriously, Kenna? That's all you got out of what I said?" She huffs, walking to the edge of my bed, and plopping right on it, laying on her back with her arms out wide, she turns her head to me, a playful glare in her eyes.

    "Well what do you want me to say?" I exclaim, laying back down and staring at the ceiling.

    "What's got you down, Kenna? Has Harry got something to do with it?" She asks, her tone careful, as if she were walking around eggshells. I just shrug in response, and she groans, sitting up and huffing at me.

    "Kenna seriously, if tour is getting too much from you then we should probably go home! Stop torturing yourself." She says concerned, and my heart warms at this.

    "Two weeks. Two weeks then we go home." I answer, and she tilts her head to the side, a confused look on her face.

    "McKenna, you're honestly going to have to give me something here. If you want to go home in two weeks then give me a reason, as much as I am your friend, I am your assistant and acting manager too." I sigh, I should probably tell Zoe.

    "I caught Harry,- and uh-," I couldn't even say it out loud. Tears were already blurring my vision, and I could feel the bed dip, and Zoe taking my hand in hers.

    "What's he done now, Kenna?" She asks, concern lacing her voice, but it had a tone of anger as well.

    "I-, uh-, I caught him. I caught him kissing Camille, in P-paris." If I was a mess that day, I was worse now. I let out the sob I've been holding for two weeks, and Zoe pulling me to her chest as she tries to comfort me, patting my hair down and rubbing my back, whispering comforting words into my ear.