Frans King is a modern day popstar who lives his life on the outside as if everything were perfect. But, inside, he faces the tumult of an emotional typhoon.
His father and his record company force him to live a faux life in order to support a good...
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"Peoplefallin love inmysteriousways. Maybeit'sall partofaplan." - EdSheeran
***
"Oh my freaking bunnies Thea!"
"I know!"
"Thea I swear to god I need to let you out in the dark more often."
"Don't talk like that V-"
"That's freaking Frans King you almost killed, what was he doing there anyways? Was he kidnapped?"
Voices whispered in the distance. For Frans it felt like floating in the dark abyss, where nothing could touch him, nothing could annoy him or disappoint. It felt rather blissful. It was like laying on a soft cloud, watching as sun rose in the horizon. Only the feminine panicking voices annoyed him. But it was easily ignored, when suddenly it was ruined.
There were thousands of dwarves hammering in his head, it seemed like the dwarves were fighting over who would blow Frans' skull into billion pieces first.
He groaned, rubbing his eyes, he combed his fingers through his dark curls. He didn't open his eyes when realized something, it was eerily quiet. There was this annoying buzz before, but now it was all... Silent again. Had he imagined it? Surely not.
He slowly blinked his green eyes open, only to be met with slightly less darker darkness. What was going on? His head didn't help with that situation at all. He was laying on some kind of small bed, it was uncomfortable and so much smaller then his own. Besides, it smelled of roses, his bed definitely doesn't smell of roses.
Someone suddenly pulled the curtains away, and a ray of sunshine attacked Frans' hurting eyes. "Fuck." He groaned and buried his head in a soft pillow. "Sorry!" Someone squealed and with the sound of moving curtains, the room was dark again.
That woke him up. Where has he gotten himself to now? He sat up, ignoring his hangover the best he could. His eyes scanned the dark room, it was white and... Orange? But what caught his attention were two female figures standing and gawking at him.
What happened yesterday?
He didn't remember anything except the neon blue liquid he kept drinking. But it was the magic of alcohol, you tend to forget many things and have it all back in the morning. With a killer headache never too far behind.
Someone held a glass of water and small white pill in front of his face. Before he could ask, someone answered "For your head." Small voice whispered, he was grateful for that.
He took the pill and gulped it down with the cool water. He has never loved water more than right now. With a sigh he pushed himself up from the small bed, the two girls immediately took a step back. If he didn't have this headache he would of had laughed at that.
