Thank you so much for wanting to read my book. I know that there was once that '100 drabble challenge' thing so I thought why not? So I have 100 stories all a mix of Tom, Loki, pine, Freddie, Laing and more. This was really hard so please enjoy it.
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A/N: This story was going to be a Freddie story but I think the stories I've written about him are too similar, and when I started writing it I realised it was too similar to Record and Reason. So seeing as I haven't done an F Scott Fitzgerald story I should do one. And can I just say... that hair tho. Imagine Zelda doesn't exist in this universe.
You had just been cheated on... amazing. You had gone to see your boyfriend who was living in France for work. You hadn't been staying at his place because he didn't have a comfortable place to sleep, he didn't have a large sofa, just one person chairs meaning you had to go to a hotel. You were walking into his flat, which he gave you a key for, when you heard moaning from another woman coming from his bedroom. You didn't confront them, you just walked out slamming the door in the process.
What was even better was that he didn't come after you, not in that way you detty pig! He hadn't run after you trying to explain himself.
You were currently walking barefoot in the streets of Paris, your heels in one hand, coat, and bag in the other. Your tights were getting dusty from the floor and your toes were getting quite cold. You were wearing a short black dress with tights matching your skin colour, so you still felt some warmth in between the fabric and your skin.
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You saw some steps leading to a museum or something similar and decided to stop and sit down. You hadn't had a chance to cry properly so this was the time you finally got to let it all out. The tears made your makeup run so you looked like the winter soldier.
You don't know how long you were sitting on the step before you heard a bell chime signifying a quarter hour. You looked at your phone and saw it was midnight.
"Heh midnight in Paris, without a lover and a reason to be here. How depressing." You muttered to yourself. You watched the few people still awake walk past you with disgusted looks on their faces. To them you were a mad drunk woman roaming the streets.
You kept watching the people and noticed an old car coming down the street. It looked like it belonged in the roaring 20s. It was bright yellow and held about 5 people in total. The car came to a stop in front of you and a man opened the door waving you over.
"Me?" You pointed to yourself. The man smiled and came over.
"Are you alright Miss? You can come with us, we're off to a party." He said holding out his hand for you to take.
You know what fuck it, if I am to be kidnapped by a man from the 1920s then so be it. It's not like there's anyone for me here now...
You took the man's hand and got in the old looking car. The women looked at you strangely. The men almost swooned because they could see your legs. It was awkward at first, but you soon became acquainted and much comfortable in the antique aesthetic.
You arrived at a posh house and was brought into a large room. It was filled with people dressed in flapper clothing and pinstripe suits. The women's hair and makeup was flawless whereas you still looked like a child did yours. When you walked in, men stared at you like meat and some tried to flirt with you however, the women you came with were nice enough to force the men away from you.
"How about a drink darling?" The brunette woman, Pauline asked. You nodded and asked for the directions to a toilet and the other woman Helen showed you there. She helped you clean up and redid your makeup, so you looked less evil and more chipper and 20s.
You were sitting with the ladies when you saw Ernest, Pauline's husband and another man came up to you.
"Ladies," Ernest nodded to you all, "y/n may I borrow you for a moment?"
"Sure," you got up and walked with the two men. The fear of something happening was there but you had to remember not to scream or show any physical worry.
You went into a bedroom when Ernest spoke again, "this is the lady I was telling you about Francis, y/n. We picked her up and I thought she would be a doll for you." He turned to you, "y/n this is my friend Francis Scott Fitzgerald. Francis this is y/n... sorry I didn't catch your last name."
When you met the Hemingway's in the car, it was impossible to tell if they were actors. I mean it's midnight in France, anything could happen, but they were so strange. They didn't recognise your phone, they had no idea what you were talking about most of the time and when you asked the year, they genuinely said 1928.
"L/n," you shook Francis' hand instantly, "Mr Fitzgerald it's an honour to meet you. Your work is amazing. I can't believe this is actually happening. Sorry, it's just your writing is amazing."
"Well thank you doll. I deeply appreciate your words."
"I'll leave you to it then." Ernest smiled and left you to talk. You looked out the window which faced the path you came. You could almost see where the group picked you up, it felt weird to think this has happened, but for some reason you are now back in the 1920s and are living the best life.
"You look out the window like you have been blind all your life." Francis laughs, "or like you have just seen the most amazing view in the world... I certainly have." You glance over your shoulder to see Francis leaning up against the bed post. You smile gently and go back to watching the world.
"The view from here's amazing," you hold out your right hand and he walks over to you, as you stare outside and never takes his eyes off you when he holds your hand. "What do you see?"
"I see possibilities for greatness. You can step outside and have a hundred choices, but you only have one path. We don't know if it's craved from birth or if we make it... we just have to walk and find out. Why, what do you see?"
Normally you would agree with him, tell him it was beautiful. However, now your opinion has changed, "I think it is a system of lies that protect us from what is really wrong in this world. The glass acts as a barrier from the wrong, keeping us in our own little world, but the second that reality is opened up to us. The cold breeze floods in and we are left with a horrifying truth. The truth that the world isn't perfect, and your 'innocent' childhood is just a bunch of stereotypical stories we are told so we believe life is fun and daisies."
When you had finished, you had let go of Francis' hand and he stared at you shocked. He had never heard anyone talk like that to him and it inspired him.
"That was beautiful." He breathed.
"It's the harsh reality. There is no beauty about it." You spoke numbly a tear falling down your cheek which Francis' noticed.
"What happened to make you think this way Miss y/n?" He wiped the tear away making you look up and see his concerned face.
"I was lied to by the one person I loved like there was no tomorrow. Fed lies and believed my life was a love story when it's as tragic as Romeo and Juliet." More tears fall and Francis wipes them all away.
"You talk of such beauty as if it is bad. From this I imply you are talking bad about yourself, as I know you are very beautiful."
You have no words, so he continues, "let's go have fun, I don't think dwelling on things that have come and gone is a good way to spend your time. Let's dance."
A/N: Holy shit where did that ending come from?! This Shakespeare looking shit, obviously no way is that Shakespeare quality, but it is good quality for me I think. This is me being my extra gay self atm so don't mind me. That was deep af, did anyone get that I was referencing the BLM movement because I was talking about how we don't get fed the information we should about reality and how children from birth are being sorted and shown stereotypes because that's what has happened for centuries. I hope you liked this one. I was surprised this came out of my mind tbh. Ngl that is the good kush. Share your thoughts. Imma stop being extra now. ❤
