Paparazzi

Chapter Four: Frenchie

[ 𝑰𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆 (@𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒕) 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒍 𝑳𝒊𝒛𝒂 ]

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 / 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙗𝙮 𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚

'𝗖𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵
𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘂𝘀
𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁
𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁
𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗹, 𝗜 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗜 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗴𝗼
𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝗜 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗜 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗴𝗼

𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲
𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘂𝘀 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱
𝗔𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲
𝗚𝗼𝗱, 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗜 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

______________________________________

FRENCHIE

APRIL 2020

"You were invited too?" he asked through his phone, brushing his teeth and adding a shining coat to his curly locks. He smiled in the mirror so he could remember what he looked like to other people, even if it didn't reflect how he felt behind it.

"Don't sound so surprised. I'm friends with Luna, too," Raf said on the other end, feigning offense.

"I told you she was great, yeah? I'll meet you there, bro. I heard the place was the size of my dreams."

Raf laughed, his voice a little rugged. He cleared his throat before he replied. "I'm bringing someone along, so if I don't see you there, have fun."

"Damn, is that place really that big?"

"Welcome to the riches, French Fry."

Frenchie hung up and buttoned up his collared shirt, knowing full well he'd probably end the night half-naked with the thrill he was accumulating inside his chest. He couldn't promise to behave himself, not when his life was starting to look like the disco ball at the top of the garage ceiling of his childhood. His parents would dance every Saturday night and he and his siblings would join along when they were old enough to break a sweat. The disco ball was the shiniest thing they owned, held above his head like it was a physical goal to achieve: to be the brightest and have people dancing around you, because of you.

Ever since that monumental call-back from the casting director, he swore he'd touched the disco ball with his fingertips. Only having commercials and a cancelled YouTube series under his belt, and with no agent on his side to vouch for him, he scored one of the most coveted roles among the scene. He'd stood in line for hours, multiple days, and practiced the lines every waking moment until he felt like the writer himself.

A sigh escaped his lips as his smile fell. He'd have celebrated with his family, but not everyone was present.

The urge to call the missing person consumed him. He shook his head to throw the idea away. No, stop bothering her, he told himself. She's better off without you.