The Story of Finneas - [COMPLETED]

12.

I drove my car in a rushed manner. I wanted to get away from the airport as far away as I could. I managed to keep myself from crying, and my mind felt empty. It kept replaying my memories with Finneas again, and again, and again. When he left, he took a huge chunk of my heart with him. He should've taken it all with him.

After what felt like hours of mindless driving, I saw a small convenience store from the corner of my eyes. I already passed it, but I decided to—recklessly—turn around and drove into the store's petite parking lot. I didn't know why I decided to stop here; I haven't ever gone here. I checked on how I looked with a glance on the rearview mirror. Not bad, I think. I didn't look like someone who has been crying or someone who's broken hearted.

I stepped out of my car and immediately saw a familiar figure, sitting on one of the steps. It was Hans.

"Brooke!" He looked up and noticed me. Hans quickly stood up, looking happy to see me. "What are you doing here?" He asked with a wide grin.

"I don't know," I answered with whatever came into my mind, which was nothing. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckled slowly with his deep voice. "I live nearby, and I was craving a fresh, cold bottle of Coke." He raised the Coke bottle in his hand. "Come on, I'll get you a drink," he said as he stood up and made a gesture for me to follow him.

The store was smaller than the usual convenience stores across the city, but it was very clean. The cashier seemed to know Hans well, and they exchanged a light conversation before he walked towards the big refrigerators and looked through the clear glass on the doors. "Now what do you want? I think this may be right for you tonight," he picked a bottle of orange-flavored vitamin C and handed it to me casually.

"What? I don't like vitamins," I muttered, and he put it back in the fridge.

"I thought you needed it, since you looked pale."

I raised my eyebrows, feeling surprised. Yet, I didn't say anything. I just kept staring at my shoes.

"This will do," I picked out a can of Passionfruit LaCroix and smiled towards Hans. He smiled back—with a little bit of a concerned look in his eyes—and after he insisted paying for me, we went back outside and he sat on the steps. I glanced at the clean, white ceramic floor and sat beside him. We kept silent for a while; the only sounds heard were us sipping on our carbonated drinks.

"So," Hans started the conversation, "What's wrong?"

I sighed. "How could you just conclude that something's wrong? Do I look that miserable?"

"No, you look... pretty," he said gently, and I instantly turned my head to him, only to hear him continue, "Pretty sad."

I smacked his arm playfully and immediately regretted it. His arm was rock hard; quite impressive, to be honest. He looked at me and smiled. "It's just how I am. I can see when people are feeling unwell." He twirled the tip of his mustache, feeling proud of himself.

"You're right," I finally said. "It's just..."

"You can trust me, Brooke." His tone was a bit impatient, and his dark blue eyes locked with mine. It made me give up and I was ready to tell him everything.

"Is it about that guy who you performed with? Finneas, isn't it?"

"How did you know?" I said, a little bit hysterically; and he knew that he was right.

"I told you, I have this supernatural thing," he smirked. "Did he hurt you in any way? Because if so, I can beat him down to a pulp for you."

He looked serious, so I shook my head eagerly. "No, no. He didn't do anything to me. I don't need you to do anything, much less violence."

"Are you okay, then?" He was saying that with a really concerned tone, and I didn't know why and how; but it made me burst out to tears. I cried hysterically, and I was glad there was no one there except us and the cashier inside the store.

He pulled me slowly into a hug. His arms were holding me tightly, and I felt secure. It felt different from a hug with Finneas, but it's a good thing. I needed to stop thinking and feeling about Finneas. Hans stroked my hair very gently as I cried into his soft maroon sweater. I could hear his calm breathing between my short ones, and I felt a little bit guilty. I didn't want to use him to help me get over Finneas. I didn't want him to feel used. Yet somehow, I felt really thankful for him for letting me cry, and possibly ruining his sweater.

After a few minutes, I finally ran out of energy to cry and it just turned into sniffles. My face was wet with tears and I swear it must've been really red. I lifted my head to look at Hans, who was still staring and smiling at me. He let me go so I could adjust to a more comfortable sitting position. I knew he was waiting for me to say something, so I did.

"I'm sorry," I only managed to say that, with an extremely hoarse voice. I sounded like a frog.

He only smiled wider and replied, "Why are you sorry? Crying is good, you know."

I nodded weakly. A minute after that, I ended up telling him everything. I didn't have anyone else to listen to me vent. Hans was also a very nice guy, and I felt like I could trust him.

He didn't say anything for a while after I told him the long story of what happened between me and Finneas. He seemed to be deep in thought, finishing the last bit of his Coke.

"Ah, the classic problem of the Second Lead Syndrome," he finally said, followed with a snarl.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, ahem," he cleared his throat, "Back in the days, I used to watch a lot of romantic dramas. Usually, the plot goes like this: the main girl lead falls in love with the first male lead, but unfortunately they face a lot of problems and obstacles. Now the second male lead, he's always there for her. He always calms her down when she's sad or angry because of the problems with the first male lead. Sadly, in the end; the girl gets together with the main lead, leaving the second lead alone and loveless."

I kept quiet, trying to process Hans' explanation.

"The gender, of course, can be switched. Like in your case—for example—Finneas is the main lead, with his ex being the main female lead, and that leaves you as the second lead."

"I'm starting to feel upset again," I said jokingly, and Hans laughed.

Once again, he gave me a gentle smile. Then he said, "I don't mind being the second lead in the story where you're the main lead, though."

My eyes widened, and I stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Nothing," he smirked and stood up quickly. "Come on, I'll drive you home. It's dangerous for you to drive in a condition like this."

I decided to not ask him further about what he said and gave him my car keys.

"So..." I took a glance at him and grinned, "You still watch those dramas, right?"

"Fine, I still watch them. There, satisfied?" He grunted.

I laughed loudly, and he went on about how it doesn't make him feel less like a man.

Turned out, I liked listening to him chatter about anything.