Chapter 23: Verdict

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Zayn's POV

"I can't believe it!" I say, pacing the room back and forth, yelling on the phone.

The lads look up at me with a inquisitive look on their faces.

"What's going on? Is he getting thrown into jail?" Louis asks, worriedly.

"No, I don't think so," replies Niall, soothing him by placing an arm on his shoulders.

"Shhh!" Whisper-yells Liam, with a harsh look. "Shut up, Zayn's on the phone."

I glare at them to make them shut up and they instantly stop talking.

Rolling my eyes, I resume my conversation with our manager.

"What happened at the court?"

"The lawyer said that according to Fiona, Harold hit her more than once. They consider this abuse, so there might be a prison sentence or community services, I don't know."

"This can't be happening!" I yell, not able to control my anger. I spot the TV remote on the kitchen counter, and I throw it full force across the room. I hear it breaking, but I honestly couldn't care less.

"Zayn, calm down. Nothing's for sure yet." Simon says, firmly.

"No, okay! Our band is in bloody danger, what the bloody hell am I supposed to do?"

"Look, we have a good lawyer and we got money. Plus, the fans could all tweet that Harry is a good boy, so it would be basically the whole world against Fiona."

"Look, the press already knows and so does the rest of the world. Even If the band is saved, Harry's dignity and pride won't."

"Well it's his problem, lad. It's not any of out faults that he decided to beat a girl."

"BUT HE DIDN'T!" I shout, even louder. I punch the table, pissed off.

"Give me the phone," Niall says, standing up. "None of this is Simon's fault, so stop flippin' the shit out of yourself."

"No." I say, giving him a dark look.

"Give me the phone, and calm yourself down. Seriously." He says, grabbing the phone from my hands.

"You better do something about all this bullshit. Or they will all get a piece of my mind." I mumble, stalking out.

Harry's POV

"This really can't be happening. It can't!" I yell to Simon. "I Are they really making me go to jail?"

He nods.

"What the bloody hell? I am not a criminal!"

"I know, Harry, but you did beat a girl."

"Beat?! What do you mean, beat? I slapped her and not even hard only twice and both times I've tried to apologize."

He was about to say something but I cut him off, "I'm going to get in there and fight for myself. That bloody lawyer you hired wasn't even shit!" I shout.

I get in the room where the judge is and Fiona's there. I walk in front of the judge.

"I am NOT going to jail for thirty days. No way in bloody hell!" I shout.

Fiona turns around and stares at me with hard eyes. Whatever. I hate her.

"Look, what I did wasn't even considered 'beating'. The first time I slapped her, I apologized for it and truly felt bad and the second time as well. What was supposed to happen was that we both moved on and never to talk to each other again. I am not a criminal, your Honor."

The judge is thinking for a minute and I look at Fiona. She's still staring at me with a dirty look. I return the look and glaring, I say, "what do you want?"

"I want you to suffer. I want you to go to jail. I hate you, I hope you feel miserable, I hope you die."

"I feel the exact same way about you, Fiona the Ogre. Really, who names their child after a Shrek movie?"

"Maybe you're just a dumbass or it truly hasn't occured to you that I was born before Shrek came out."

"The director saw you and asked for your name and decided that Shrek would be an ogre and his wife would be Fiona."

"What about Harold? It's the name of my great-great-grandpa. 150 years old."

"I'd rather be old than green with bad body odor-"

"ENOUGH!" Yells the judge.

I look at her in surprise whilst Fiona is babbling on and on like a bloody parrot.

"No, Harold, you are not a criminal and slapping twice isn't considered abuse since you two have been dating for a few months and you weren't mistreating her. We also do no have any proof or valid witnesses, so Harold, luckily for you, nothing is going on. The case is dismissed."

"Argh yes!" I yell, dancing. I stare at Fiona for five seconds and scream out, "toodles!" And walk away, feeling like a boss.

I was not going to jail. I wasn't going to do any community service. I was free. And I had won.

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