two | h.s. - t.c.

60

Jenny's pov

"it's a private tour. if you want one so bad, ask kayla." harry said to everyone as we all flooded into the hotel lobby after soundcheck.

"oh yes, because everyone with a british accent is from london." she said sarcastically, holding onto the straps of her bag, "i don't know shit about anything here."

"well you should, you've been here long enough." harry shot back.

"are you testing me right now?"

"oh shit the brits are at it again," scott said almost too loudly, emily hushing him after his voice echoed. "would you like to settle this over some tea?" he asked in the most posh accent i've heard from him.

marley chimed in, pushing scott's shoulder, "a cuppa?" he asked with the same accent, causing scott to repeat him as they both broke into laughter, scott saying "that's a good one."

harry and kayla both shot them dramatic looks—meanwhile emily and andrew stayed quiet, used to marley and scott's behaviors.

"yes, keep stereotyping us—should we get into politics now?" kayla leaned her head over me to make eye contact with scott as we walked, "because i have a lot to say about that government of yours."

"hey hey, we never said we liked being american." andrew spoke up.

"when did this turn into a political battle?" emily asked, leaving her spot by andrew. she walked backwards in front of kayla, taking her hands, "can you really take us on a small tour? please."

kayla thought about before sighing, giving in. "yes, but it'll be shitty." kayla responded.

"it'll be rubbish." marley corrected with the same accent, and kayla gave him a warning with her eyes.

"it'll be fantastic, i'm sure." harry said as he pressed the button for the elevator.

"i'll pass." were the first words timothée said.

"like hell you will." kayla shot back.

"what? i'd rather stay in my room." he argued as he crossed his arms.

"well if you don't come, i won't do the tour." she said pettily, crossing her arms too.

the group protested in her words, complaining as they began to bash on timothée. timothée still argued back as the elevator doors opened, and harry and i walked in first, the only ones not in the group argument.

"where're we going first?" i asked him as we leaned against the wall, the group walking in.

"we could go somewhere to eat if you're hungry." he said, "if not, we can walk around the central, but there might be fans walking all around the area."

"that's okay—i mean they no longer suspect any relations between us ever since." i didn't want to say the words pr stunt or the name zayn, but i didn't need to as he nodded in agreement. i've also convinced myself that the relationship i was in—according to the media—wasn't a thing.

"let's walk first." i said over the group's continuous argument. "afterwards we'll be more hungry and the food'll be even better."

"i'm sorry, are you saying the food'll be bad?" he joked, his eyebrows raising as he held a questionable smile.

"no, you know what i meant." i said, nudging my arm with his, "we're not having another debate." i said with a sigh as i looked back at the group.