" My heart is broke
But I have some glue
Help me inhale
And mend it with you."
- Nirvana

***

Frans felt clean, refreshed. His curls were still wet and the hot steam was covering bathroom walls.

He felt more than nervous and he wasn't exactly sure what should he wear for the dinner with his father. Frans groaned when he realized that Fredrick would surely be there too.

He needs to build his walls back up. No breaking, no cracking, no nothing. Emotions off, work on.

He pushed himself off the cold wall and walked over to his closet. He wasn't exactly sure what would be appropriate. In fact, all this wearing fashionable and expensive clothes was getting on his nerves, if it would've been up to him, he'd always be wearing just random comfortable clothes, wether it was ugly orange shirt and plain brown pants, as long as it was comfy, he'd wear it. But he was literally not allowed to wear odd clothes.
Guess he needed a woman's help then. "Pixie!" He yelled, shaking his curls.

A small woman appeared at the door, her blue eyes were wide and her black hair was in a messy bun. Her name wasn't really a pixie, but Felicity. She just reminded Frans so much of a pixie he couldn't help but start calling her like that. She always keeps the garden and mansion clean, without anyone even noticing her. She's a quiet person and loves to keep everything in check.
Pixie is a maid hired by modest. Frans first though he didn't need her but as time passed he felt happy that the mansion wasn't never really empty.

"Yes?" She asked, stepping inside Frans' room. "I need something to wear and I'm not completely sure what would be appropriate. Could you help me out please?" He asked, smiling like a Cheshire cat and pointing at his closet.

Pixie frowned but made her way to the closet, giving Frans pair of skinnies and a black dress shirt. "Would tie be too much?" He asked, eyeing up his pitifully small amount of ties. He was never really the one liking suits but he had to wear them pretty often. He usually got his clothes from Arabella but this event has nothing to do with her.

"Probably, but I'm not sure. Maybe we should call Arabella?" Pixie asked, looking Frans worriedly. When things came to Frans, she was always doubtful. "Nah I'll leave it out then. Thanks Pix!" Felicity pursed her lips but nodded. He couldn't help but chuckle as the woman hurried away.

After getting dressed he found himself staring at the mirror. He then realized how miserable he looked this time. There was no one who could be hiding his pale skin, dull hair and dark circles under his eyes. He tried everything to make his hair look combed or in style. Nothing.
He tried to get rid of the dark circles under his eyes but nothing would work, all he managed was to make his eyes red. He left it at that, somehow everything he tried to do on his own he manages to mess up.

He once tried to surprise Pixie and clean his own room, somehow he managed to mess it up even more and she didn't talk with him for a whole week. Only thing he knows how to do is singing. And sometimes even that is taken from him.

Frans walked down the dark and empty hallway, heading outside at the parking lot. The sky was orange and pink, he could not see the sunset but the sky was enough for him. The colors were warm and rather calming.
The gates opened and the familiar black hummer stopped in front of Frans.

Marvel was supposed to drive him there but Frans had other plans.
He opened that passenger door and smiled at Marvel who sent him glare.

"Go on and have a free night, Pixie is inside take her out or something. I'm going to drive on my own you know. Haven't been in my cars for ages. Have fun!" He chuckled and slammed the hummer door shut. He hurried off, not wanting to hear what Marvel has to say.

"Frans!" He yelled but Frans was already in his black Lamborghini Veneno. Of course this car will caught more eyes than the black hummer, but he just wanted to be alone.
As he drove away from his home, he noticed the worried look in Marvels eyes. But he could of had imagined it as well.

He sighed and adjusted the seatbelt, turning the car radio on, Twenty One Pilots gave him time to get his thoughts in line. It felt good but already he felt his nerves taking a toll on him. The closer he got to his fathers new apartment the heavier his limbs got and nerves were eating his stomach. He wasn't sure why but he felt excited.
But there was this bugging feeling in his stomach like something isn't right, or something bad is going to happen.

He shook his head trying to rid his thoughts of negative things.

He stopped by the expensive looking apartment, his body tense. He didn't make a move to get out of the car, he needed one more second for himself.
Frans' green eyes caught a glimpse of car lights from his rear mirror.

He groaned and glared at his steering wheel, it was Fredrick's car that pulled to a stop next Frans Lamborghini. Annoyed, Frans got out of his car ignoring Fredrick's presence. Frans marched through the door, ignoring his fathers butler Vinnie Winston.

The man tried to talk to Frans but he refused to show any signs of listening. "Frans!" Fredrick hissed, hurrying to catch up with them.
Frans ignored both of them while walking through the house to living room where his father was standing next to the window.

Immediately he felt guilty for acting so arrogant but there's no going back now. Somehow he felt relieved after seeing his father.

Frans threw himself on one of the loveseats, throwing his legs over the armrest.
The room was quiet. "Sir, your guests arrived." Vinnie Winston let him know.

Harold turned slowly around, smiling at Fredrick. "Fredrick, my boy, glad to see you!" He exclaimed, walking over to Frans' older brother to hug him. "Father." Fredrick greeted Harold, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

They were smiling.

Frans realized that both, his father and Freddie were both wearing suits. He knew he should've gotten the damn tie.
Frans huffed and took a cherry from the black bowl what was placed on the living rooms table.

"Frans." His father said warningly, Frans winced. He ignored Harold's warning tone, taking another cherry. "So what's all the fuzz about?" He asked carelessly, tilting his head so he looked his family upside down.
He acted like a dick but inside, he felt happy that they were all together. He felt relieved.

Fredrick glared at Frans and Harold shook his head. "So boys, the dinner should be ready soon, Hannah made pasta, I hope it sounds good." Harold smiled at Fredrick. "I would've preferred pizza but I guess pasta will do." Frans sighed. Freddie glared at him but yet again, Frans ignored him. "Pasta sounds good father, can't wait to dig in already." Harold frowned "Frans if you want pizza we could order you some, or I could let Hannah make some for you."

Frans narrowed his eyes. He was just messing around, pasta sounds fine and actually, to his stomach everything edible sounds fine.
Act like that made Frans even more curious as what is this all about. "Nah pasta sounds good." He stood up and felt intimidate of his father and glaring Freddie.

They both wore suits and looked so intelligent next to Frans. Frans felt annoyed because obliviously he should've put on suit as well. But what's done is done.

"Okay boys, let's head to the kitchen now shall we?" Harold smiled and guided them to kitchen.
The kitchen didn't look like a normal kitchen at all. Frans didn't even spot any pans or bowls and not even a fridge. Put he did notice a remote.

The plates and wine were on table, to Frans annoyance, Freddie sat exactly opposite of him.

The trio sat down and immediately Hannah came and placed a bowl of pasta in front of them. It should've been normal for a family to eat dinner together. For them to just sit down and talk about the day and their plans. Even when his father was more focused on Freddie and Freddie kept glaring at Frans, he felt happy.

Frans bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. After a long time there was something that just felt right. And it felt right to have a night with family even if they weren't very happy with him.

"So Fred, how's the business going?" Harold asked, pouring Freddie some wine. "Its getting better, I've got few restaurants up here and we are planning on getting some around the Europe as well." Frans felt a little envy, Fredrick was doing something with passion and he had complete control over it.
"Really? That's a brilliant idea! I'm proud of you!" "Thank you, also the chicken tastes very good." Harold smiled his eyes sparkling. Frans looked them and they looked so much alike. They both had dark hair and brown eyes. And they just were intelligent. They were this kind of people you didn't have to speak with put already respected.

Frans had gotten his genes from mother. He felt bang of hurt in his chest. He misses her.

"And Frans?" He was pulled out of his thought and he realized they were staring at him. Their brown eyes full of wonder, they looked so much alike. "What?" He asked, taking a bite of his pasta. It did taste good. "How are you doing?" Harold asked, taking a sip of his drink. Frans noticed immediately Harold's sour mood, his eyes didn't have this special spark in them.

Frans rolled his eyes. "Haven't you read newspaper or something? Everything I do is up in the internet." Frans answered grumpily, looking down to his pasta. "Frans." Freddie said warningly. Like all the previous times, Frans easily ignored his brother.

"But I want to hear it from you, not read everything on internet." Harold snapped at his son. Frans took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek he looked up to be met with the same cold stare.
He didn't like a thing internet was saying. Frans was lying to his father for claiming that internet speaks truth. But it's for Harold's own safety.

Frans felt anger bubbling inside of him, even his family is judging him. They still have the same glares and cold stares.

Frans put the fork down and glared at his father. "Okay seriously, cut the shit and let's not pretend the happy family okay? What the heck is it all about?" Frans snapped, his eyes searching answers, searching for something.
"What? Can't I just have a family dinner with my sons?" Harold looked down. So there is something going on. "Yes father you-" "no. Stop lying, what the heck is going on?" Frans cut Freddie's sentences off. Frans leaned back and kept a hard stare at his father. For him, it was obvious that Harold was stressing over something. And Frans needed to know what was it.

Harold looked up from his pasta, to Frans' surprise there wasn't the usual cold stare in Harold's dark eyes. But guilt and something else, he just wasn't sure what was the other emotion. "Nothing gets unnoticed by you now does it?" He said quietly. Frans didn't answer, he waited patiently. Even Freddie was quiet, eyeing the situation curiosity visible in his eyes.

"Well I guess there's no relaxing now, is there boys?" Harold chuckled. "Let's get to the point then, I'm getting married again." Harold said, and his eyes were sparkling, the hint of life in them was even obvious to a blind man. Freddie stood up, wide smile on his face. "What a wonderful news! I'm happy for you!" They hugged, sharing the special father and son moment. There was excitement in the air and even Hannah clapped her hands excitedly. They were all happy but Frans.

He sat there no emotion on his pale face. Harold turned to his youngest son, his face fell when he noticed the look on Frans' face. "Frans?" He asked carefully, like stroking a sleeping dragon.
Frans stood slowly up, taking a step away from his place. "How could you? How can you?" He asked lowly, his voice was cold, lifeless. He clenched his jaw and his knuckles were white. He was just so angry. "Frans listen-" "shut up!" He snapped, he was furious. "I don't want to hear it okay?! It has only been a little over year since moms and the unborn babies death and you're already marrying?!" He yelled, out of frustration he threw the chair across the kitchen into pieces. The anger was pumping in his veins, feeding his demons. His cold glare full of hurt was on Harold. This man was no longer his father.

"Frans-" "from now on only thing we are connected through is my career. Nothing more." Frans hissed under his breath. How could he do it? How?

Without another word Frans stormed out of the house. "Frans!" It was Freddie yelling for him to come back. But Frans was already in his car, speeding off. It was too late to go back. It was already too late to fix the broken. Just too late.