"They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding"
- The Script

***

Time. We are all slaves of time. Long time ago, someone calculated the space between the earth and sun. And it turned out to be time. Now, people live by it. Making themselves slaves of time.

It's always the same, but sometimes just ten seconds may seem like weeks, and other times, weeks go by in seconds.

It has been a month. A whole month since the last time Frans could go and have a nice conversation with his older brother. Harold had gone back to Europe to do business, leaving Evangeline to prepare the wedding. There was no doubt Frans was mad at Harold, he was furious even. Disappointed and angry at his fathers behaviour to run away like that, leaving everything behind.
It has been one month since he last spoke with Marvel and saw Annie. He was worried sick about his brothers girlfriend, he just hoped perhaps if Frans couldn't be there for her, maybe Marvel could. He had tried to sneak out again plenty times, but he was caught every single time. Lance and Oswald were with him most of the time, annoying and frustrating him.
It was like within that time, the relationship with his family, even if it was odd one, had been cut.

The diet Timothy had assigned for Frans was on full swing, no snacks, no whopperitos, fries or burgers. He even had to take some steroids to gain a little bit muscle faster.

All this busy busy life was now starting to take real toll on him. Few times on a set or soundcheck, Frans had passed out.
People blamed it on tiredness, which was of course, partly true. To avoid another accident like that, Frans had been given always either energy drinks or black coffee. Black coffee was still something he hated with pure passion, he despised the sour taste of the drink.

It was rainy Wednesday morning when Lance had surpsingly agreed to drive Frans to Energy café. Not that Frans couldn't drive himself, he was just not allowed to, even all of the car keys had been taken from him.

All other clients were forced out, the exits were all heavily guarded as Frans dragged himself to cashier. It was a bit humiliating and even ridiculous. Why should you throw out all other clients just because of someone like Frans? It would've been fine if Frans would of had pulled up a hoodie and put on some sunglasses.

It was ridiculous.

He stopped in front of the cashier.

"A black coffee and a ... Well, that's all. Thank you."

He looked up, and finally, after a long time, the apple green eyes met warm brown ones.

"But what about the blueberry muffin? It's today's-"

"Thea, just a coffee please. And perhaps if you're not busy, a little bit of your time?"

They both knew Thea had nothing else to do.
She glanced behind Frans, out of the glass windows outside. A crowd was gathering there, he tried his best to ignore them.
Frans noticed the glint of anxiousness in her eyes. As she went to make the coffee, Frans offered her a reassuring smile.

"We could go to that corner there, so you wouldn't have to see them if that's what you're worried about."

"No, it's okay, where shall we sit?"

Thea asked, walking out from behind the cashier, holding a warm cup in her hands.
Frans gestured for her to walk ahead, together they made their way to the darker corner. He managed to take the place where he was the one facing the people, not Thea.
He took a sip of the bitter coffee. There's nothing as horrible as black coffee.

"What are you doing, Frans?"

He looked at Thea who sat across the table, it was almost impossible for him to read untold messages her dark eyes were holding.

"I'm drinking coffee."

"Frans, stop."

She didn't mean for him to stop drinking coffee right there. She didn't mean for Frans to stop talking or anything like that, no.
She wanted Frans to stop hurting himself. She wanted him to stop being miserable and do something about it.

He closed his eyes and rested his head on his palms, his outgrown hair falling over his eyes.
Frans felt a movement next to him as Thea sat on his right. Hesitantly Thea placed her cold hand on Frans' shoulder, rubbing his back as a sign of understanding and reliability. Small sigh left Frans' lips as he realized something.

They were facing the crowd behind the glass together now.

His eyes flew open and without realizing what he was doing, his arm sneaked around Thea's  slim waist and he pulled her closer to his body.

The feeling of holding someone close to himself was odd yet enjoyable feeling. Of course Frans hugged his fans everyday and all the time, but that felt different. It felt personal and exciting.

He rested his head on top of Thea's, once again the rich smell of her shampoo reaching his nose.

To his surprise Thea didn't seem too tense or awkward at all, in fact, she rested her head on his chest and hugged him back.

"I can't." He whispered in her hair so quietly he was sure she didn't hear him.

Frans wanted to take that moment and put it in a glass box, so he could see, take it out, and feel it whenever he wanted to.

Frans hummed quietly, so he could block out the noise reaching his ears from outside the café. In fact, that moment felt like they were in the glass box, hiding from the outside world.

Their bubble was broken when the small bell hanging on the door announced someone's presence.

"Sir, you're called back to the promotions office."

He glared at Lance, pulling away from Thea. He turned back to her, offering a smile.

"See you some other tomorrow."

"Other tomorrow?"

"Yeah, other tomorrow."

"Okay, see you some other tomorrow then."

No more words were needed as Frans reached for his cup of coffee and turned to leave, not missing the small smile that was now playing on Thea's lips.

As he stepped outside, he felt like he had more energy, like he was charged. Perhaps it was Thea who was his anchor, or charger?

He smiled at the fans who were trying to push their way to him, he even smiled at the paparazzis who were screaming nonsense questions at his way.

Because after all, he's gonna see her some other tomorrow.

***

Short, but I enjoyed writing it. In my opinion writing it longer would've ruined the mood and stuff.

Thoughts?

Word count: 1009