𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 † 𝐟.𝐠

Chapter Three

boredom

Frank's show started in ten minutes and he felt nothing. The jitters that celebrities tell their fans about to establish some sort of fake emotional connection was not there what so ever. He felt numb.

The stage was being re-checked and his band was sweating and nervous as they waited for the okay to start.

"You feelin' okay?"

Frank turned around to face his manager. He nodded and sighed looking out over the large crowd.

"You look. . . uninterested." He said, Frank could hear the disappointment in his voice.

He should've felt guilty for it, for not being enthused and happy for what he had set up for him. All of his manager's hard work was right in front of him and he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Is that what this is? You're bored of all your success?" He said.

"I'm always fucking bored." Frank said with more attitude than he intended.

Derek shook his head and sighed looking at his watch.

"The show is about to start and you've got fans that paid to come see you pour your heart out. I don't care if it's sincere or not but you've got a job to do."

Frank wanted to be annoyed but he understood the dissatisfaction Derek felt towards him. He wasn't a brat but he bet he looked like one right about now.

He walked out onto the stage taking his seat in the stool placed in the front behind a mic, that was unsurprisingly too high up for him to reach comfortably when he sat, he adjusted it to his liking and pulled his guitar over his chest.

From the moment he came into view the crowd was going with this screams of adoration and applause. Each screech of "I love you" went right threw one ear and out of the other, not even giving him the butterflies that used to appear in the beginning of his career. He didn't even look up at the audience as he looked behind him to ask his band if they were ready. Once he got a nod from the guitarists and a thumbs up from the drum dude he didn't know he reached for his mic.

The place seemed to grow 100 times larger when it was filled to the brim with excited teens and young adults. He felt suffocated looking at them all, with their cameras out, flashes blinding him as they stared at him as if he was a caged animal. He smiled softly at them and spoke into his mic. He introduced the first song they would be playing and thanked everyone for coming before he started. From the first second of he and his band starting the crowd once again flared up with screams and claps this time for the well known song. Frank used to get emotional when playing it, it being the first song of his that made it to the radio but now it was the same as all the others. He played it with no issues barely thinking as his lips and fingers moved with ease. When he was done with the first few songs it felt like a pause button had been clicked, his eyes opened and he could hear everything now and not just himself. The band took a break for water and for the drummer to bandage his now injured hand.

The fans mingled with each other and shouted nonsense at the stage to get Frank's attention Frank chuckled and responded to some of their random comments but ignored most of them.

before starting the next half of the show Frank noticed a familiar face in the crowd. His eyes lingered for longer than he thought and he heard the guitarist ask him if he was alright he nodded and apologized before they started again though the whole show Frank could barely concentrate.

•••

The show was over and Frank couldn't be more glad. His face was practically pouring sweat and he probably smelled like shit. His band was even worse, practically dripping with sweat through their clothes.