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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"Even when I doubt you, I'm no good without you" - Twenty Øne Pilots
***
Frans was sitting next to Fredricks bed, his head resting next to his brothers arm. He was alone with Fredrick. After Marvel had told him what had happened, some kind of doctor had barged in, loading Frans' mind with words that his brain refused to acknowledge. It was just all too blurry because the words he is in a coma, kept repeating over and over. Fredrick, his older brother, in a coma? And then Frans had found himself alone in the sickly pale room.
He took his brothers arm, squeezing it slightly. Fred's hand was rough and too pale, fitting nicely with the white sheets and pale blue hospital room. It was like a perfect scene from a horrific story. He had once read in some article that people who are in a coma can sense their surroundings very well. A salty tear ran across his pale cheek. There was no one else but Freddie in the room with him, so it was alright to cry. Without noticing it, more tears fell on Fredricks arm. Frans bit back a sob.
Fredrick would surely wake up, he had to wake up.
"You have to wake up, ya hear me? and don't give me the I'm too tired bullshit, man."
Frans couldn't continue as he broke into sobs. Ashamed, he buried his head in the mattress. The guilt was overwhelming him, the memories how he had treated Fredrick was just sickening. And Annie, poor Annie. It would crush the red heads heart. Frans knew he had to be there for her.
For awhile he just sat there, not moving an inch. Thinking through everything. It was like some kind of deep hole where only thing visible were memories. No sound, no smell. He even found himself smiling when he thought of their childhood back in Germany, when everything had been normal. When their mother -it was odd to think of her again in the hospital- had cooked them some spätzle or sometimes even sauerbraten. So long had they lived together, only three of them while Harold had been away to business meetings. He wished he could go back in time, if only just for a one day. It seemed like it had happened only yesterday when they were just two brothers against the world.
And now Frans found himself sitting next to another hospital bed. He was terrified.
A heavy hand on his tense shoulder startled him. He snapped his head up, for a second his vision was so blurry it was hard to see who it was. It was Marvel. Marvel was worried, this time he didn't even try to hide the worry in his grey eyes.
"C'mon Frans, you haven't eaten anything since morning. Lets go to the cafeteria on first floor and get something into that body of yours, ey? Just sitting here doesn't solve anything either."
