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...
The name flashed through news so many times it had burned in Frans' mind with thick ink. Eveline. Pictures of the fair haired woman with brown eyes were on front pages. Eveline May Frost, soon to be Eveline May King.
Frans couldn't help but compare this stranger with his lost mother. They looked so different. When his mother had had shining green eyes and dark wavy hair, this woman had blond hair and brown eyes. He could not deny the woman's beauty, but in his eyes, this woman was nothing more than family breaker.
"Yesterday night around 8pm arrived Eveline Frost with her two daughters. They were greeted with two out of three King family, Harold King and Fredrick King with adorable Ozzie. Sadly, the third of the Kings was not seen around the airport.
Eveline Frost has three daughters, 16 years old Eva, 14 years old Emma and 12 years old Elli, who sadly must stay in the hospital. The reason behind it is unknown to media."
Frans could feel bitterness on his tongue and roll his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder does she actually have three daughters and is one of them actually in the hospital.
"So, the tour dates are official now?"
Ian's calm voice pulled him back to reality. He closed his phone and slid it in his pocket, turning his attention back towards the people sitting around the table.
"Yes, I believe we have found an agreement. But since some of the mentioned arenas will be sold out within minutes, I suggest we play in some countries two nights in a row."
"But does it fit in the schedule? And does the artist have the time and energy for-"
Frans felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, strange noise escaped his mouth by the sudden contact.
"Oh yeah, that's no problem, is it, Frans?"
Timothy's hand squeezed his shoulder, surely it would leave almost non-existence bruise there. Frans' eyes slid over to Timothy's face, which was too close for his liking. The mans face was covered with almost unreadable mask, this time the mask has been painted with excited eyes and reassuring -even friendly- smile. But Frans knew better to judge a snake by the look. The venom was still poisonous.
"Yeah, sure, no problem." He said, feeling frustrated with himself, but he knew he did it all for his father. For Harold's reputation. Funny thing this society is, it can keep your ego bigger than Russia, yet one tiny mistake has the power to crush you along with your family and dreams.
