A Journalist and a Singer [h.s]

9.

I haven't forgotten about this, don't worry! I have been so so busy lately, but I found some free time so here you go :) Also these next few chapters might be a little confusing, so if you have any questions, please please ask!!

Maggie's POV:

Today wasn't as bad as I expected. After I got unpacked I officially met everyone, then we talked about the whole people-out-to-get-me thing. They basically asked me if I had any enemies, that sort of thing. The rest of the night was spent eating food from a can and talking with Harry, getting to know the person he really is, both of us on the floor in my new room.

"Wait, so you don't know what Grease is? And they call you a musical prodigy." I tell him sarcastically. He lets out a laugh as he eats a stale cracker.

"Hey, you're the one who didn't know how many Star Wars movies there are." he retaliates.

"At least mine doesn't relate to my actual profession." I counter. He lets out another laugh, finishing his pack of crackers.

I place my spoon in the can of fruit I was just eating and set it on the floor beside me, then I reach up onto my bed that I'm leaning against to grab my notebook and a pencil. Harry eyes me as I move, watching how I push the eraser down to dispense the led out of the tip. I write the title of my list, starting to draw check boxes.

"A list?" he asks, watching as I write on the piece of paper.

"Gotta have some order in my crazy life, this helps me keep it. Always has." I explain as I continue to write. I stop writing for a second, pausing, before I look back up at Harry.

"How are you?" I ask. He raises an eyebrow as confusion crosses his face. "With the whole, you know, since the whole driving stuff."

He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. "You are a literal target and you're asking me how I'm doing? You are something else Maggie Bones." he says, in an appreciative tone.

"Well you're a target too, so me being a target isn't exactly special. But seriously, how are you, if you don't mind me asking." I reiterate.

He seems to take a breath of caution before answering. "I'm okay, for now at least."

"I'm glad." I assure him, tapping his knee. I go back to writing out my list, both of us going quiet, but not uncomfortable. It's a happy silence.

A few moments pass before the silence is broken, Tate coming into the room without knocking, scaring us both.

"Hey we have a problem." He says, motioning for Harry to follow. Tate looks at me for a split second before looking back at Harry, but he doesn't make eye contact, making me worried it has something to do with me.

"Stay here, I'm sure John is just having another fit because he lost poker." he says lightheartedly, but I can tell he's wearing a mask to cover up how he's feeling underneath.

I nod, letting them both clear out. The way Tate was acting was suspicious, making me curious, too curious or my own good.

I get up from my spot on the floor and quietly make my way down the hallway that leads to the common room. I stay behind the wall so that I won't be seen, but I can still hear what they are saying.

"This is more than just the whole feud they have with us. The hate that they have for her is personal." I hear Macy say.

"This isn't good." I hear Tate agree with Mac.