Wrong Queen, Scott (A PTX Fanfic)

8.

Sometimes, the only reason why you aren't respected or are looked down on, is because you look down upon yourself. Maybe you don't take enough care of yourself. To feel like a Queen, you have to act like one, dress like one, look like one and lastly, be one! That's what I told myself as I got up and took a shower. I needed to go to the salon. It had been a while since I had gotten some pampering.

***

"There are a million things that don't make sense, but this whole 'love thing' is the worst," I told Margot, my hairstylist, "I mean, how the hell do you meet an underage kid, half way across the world in AFRICA of all places; fall in love with her and spend the next 12 months thinking about her? It totally doesn't make any sense to me. Like, at all!"

Margot allowed me to vent for the next hour and I appreciated having someone to talk to. The boys are usually the only people I actually share stuff with, but how do I share such news that could jeopardize everything? Margot was the closest thing I had to a female friend and I had to use whatever chance I had.

"I actually came here to forget about everything," I said, "let's stop talking about this."

I spent the rest of the day shopping around and doing, practically, nothing. I bought a huge tub of blueberry cheesecake flavored ice cream and then drove home to watch 'Titanic' all by myself. Well, that's what I planned to do...

***

Mitch was on the phone with Scott when I got home. I'm not sure if I can still call it that when it's the place where I'm the most miserable.

"Scott..." Mitch said so seriously that I thought someone had died. "We have a problem, a huge one."

I put down the LV, Guess and Victoria's Secret bags (don't ask) to listen.

"We have a huge concert which will make us known worldwide..."

But that's good news, I thought to myself.

"...You have to leave there tonight..."
"I'm sorry, Scott," Mitch said sincerely, "We'll try our best to change the times and flight. I have to go," he added when he noticed me standing there.

"So..." I said, "We're rescheduling a major deal, with the possibility of losing a major contract, because someone has a little crush to deal with?"
"Don't be so heartless, Kirstie," Mitch replied, "It's not you."
"Oh... so we know who I am now?" I asked cheekily.

I might have had one too many martinis in the limo I hired.

"Not now, Kirstie," Mitch said without even looking at me.
"Oh... so we're ignoring my questions too?"
"I said not now!" Mitch snapped, fueling my anger too.
"When, Mitch?!" I shouted back at him, "When are we going to ask Kirstie if she's okay with the concert dates? When are we going to listen to what Kirstie has to say? When are we going to realize that Kirstie is a part of Pentatonix too? When are we going to actually stop juggling our lives around Queen Scott's schedule?"

Definitely too many martinis. Two things about me. I'm a huge retail therapist and spend a lot when I'm down; and I refer to myself in third person when I'm a little tipsy.

"Kirstie," Mitch question-stated, "You're drunk?"
"I'm not!" I said defensively.
"Your best friend is somewhere in Africa, fighting for the love of his life and you're here drunk? Why are you making this about you? Don't you care about Scott?"

"But what about me, Mitch?" I said, on the verge of tears. "Why do I have to be the supportive friend? Why can't I be the one someone flies across the world to get to? Why do I have to be so strong?!"

I wasn't controlling my body anymore.

"WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!"

I punched the cushions as the tears made their way down my cheeks. I heard Mitch and Avi's voices enter the house and then someone held me tight in a brotherly hug telling me everything would be alright. I knew right there and then that it was KO. I silently thanked God for him as I sobbed into his shirt.