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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"Your rise and fall Back up against the wall What goes around is coming back and haunting you." - Green Day
***
Coldness, it was like frost on his fingertips. He knew he wasn't really, cold. But perhaps it was more like a numbness rather than cold.
Maybe the numbness was caused by confusion. Maybe, his mind didn't know which emotion to push forwards, and therefor made his body numb as well as his mind.
Nothing, there was nothing on his mind. If he was to be given a paper and a pen, he wouldn't of had known what to write there, and perhaps that would have been the best answer, blank white sheet. Paper filled with emptiness.
He was walking, that much he knew. But where? Somewhere where he's been before? But then again, did it really matter?
Someone waved their hand over his face, dark eyes were scanning his own, looking rather furious. Hint of regognizion was on his face, the small and angry woman was Lara. She was trying to push her towards a mirror and a chair.
Was she trying to cover him up again? What's the point? What's the point in hiding the flaws on his face, the imperfections? It didn't matter anymore, why should it matter.
He looked down at Lara who was jumping up and down in rage, but she stopped as Frans locked his gaze with hers, she froze, not moving an inch as she stared at him. He raised his head, looking over Lara he stepped away, moving towards the door as yet again, someone else stepped on his way.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he felt the person gripping his elbow, trying to drag him away. Talking, she was explaining something but he couldn't make out what was it, he voices were too far, muffled. Frans didn't move, listening to Arabellas cursing at him, scolding him for not wearing other clothes and him ignoring her. Yet, he still kept looking ahead, making her angrier.
Frans exhaled as he gently pushed Arabella aside, by the looks of it, she wasn't happy about it all.
But should he care about their happiness, while all this time, none of them even took time to ask how are you today? No, he probably shouldn't.
Frans ignored them, just like they had done to him all this time. He casually strolled to the hallways, following the signs as he realized he was about to step on stage, he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, but the hand never left.
Frans heard how the interviewer announced the crowd of him making it to the building. He was about to take another step, but the hand pulled him back, he grunted as he hit someone's broad chest. He looked up, glaring at Marvel as the man was still firmly gripping his shoulder.
"You've got ten minutes, fifteen max. After that, get the hell off that stage and we're off. Get it? Here's your bag. It'll be with me, and don't forget, fifteen is maximum"
