"I was told when I get older
All my fears will shrink.
But now I'm insecure
and I care what people think."
- Twenty One Pilots.

***

"Where the heck were your bodyguards?! Do you have any idea how stupid it was?" Timothy kept yelling at Frans, who casually leaned on the leather couch, closing his eyes. It's odd how many times he has already found himself on the same uncomfortable couch trying to sleep and turn the world off. But yet again, he was failing.

Timothy was highly respected man in this business, he was the one who's word counted the most.

Martha was standing behind Tim, nose high and holding a tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in other. Her eyes were looking down at Frans, accusing and cold. The woman's blond hair was pulled back into a neat bun, the results of her lipstick was matching her pale skin. She looked beautiful outside, but inside she was like a rotten apple.
"Well?! Are you going to answer or not!" Timothy yelled, slapping Frans on the side of his head. His eyes flew open and he looked up to fuming Timothy. He was tired and wanted nothing more than just go home. Home. Perhaps home is more like a feeling rather than a place? Perhaps, he was just craving something that was out of his reach?

"I don't remember." Frans said calmly, leaning back on the soft couch. He showed no emotion, and that's what made the modest angry. Because unfortunately Frans must do whatever they want. And most of the time he did. It's just the feeling of being suffocated that made the young man act this way, or perhaps it was just stress acting up.

"No? You don't remember?" Timothy said calmly, taking dangerous step closer. "But that's why we have hired bodyguards! You don't run away from them! Remember what happened with Tommy? Huh Frans?" Timothy mocked him, narrowing his dark eyes.

Frans' apple green eyes flew open and he jumped up, glaring at the man. "It wasn't his f-" he cut him off, pushing him back on the couch. "Of course it wasn't my son's fault. It was yours. Why? Because you keep making stupid mistakes." Timothy snapped at him. Curly haired lad looked down because as much as he wanted to deny it, Tim was right. Frans kept making stupid mistakes.

Timothy huffed and cursed him more and then calmed down a little, getting the frustration out.

"So Lena tell us something interesting, he needs to make this up for us." Timothy announced while glaring at Frans who almost fell asleep already.

The office was too crowded for his liking, but it doesn't matter what he likes and what not. It hasn't mattered for a long time now. He didn't even know half of the people here, yet they were looking down to him, holding their electronic devices and trying to be as standing out as possible.

"Oh yes, right away sir." A woman stepped up, her face was rather familiar to him, and then it clicked. She was the one who dealt with emails, schedule and announcements. "Five movie offers, and we got another email from The Simpsons asking permission to use Frans as one of the characters in their movie. Also, uhm Grewfoos manager called and wanted to make a hit with them. King Ft Grewfoo." Lena blurred all out, watching up to Timothy, reminding Frans a lost puppy asking for a treat.

"Refuse the movies. The Simpsons are a big no. They just make him look like an idiot. Did we get the new stylist already? I think Lana will need one as well, Martha? Where's the tour dates." They walked out of the room while discussing Frans' future plans. It was odd, because it was his future and he has no say in it. But he thought it was better this way, sometimes he didn't want to know what waited him. It was easier this way so all the knowing wouldn't eat his nerves.

As the door clicked shut, there was some silence finally. It felt odd for a second but soon he couldn't help himself but to doze off on the familiar and so uncomfortable couch.

It felt like only seconds later when someone was nudging him, almost like they couldn't decided were they trying to carry him or wake him up.
Frans' eyes shot open, only to be met with Marvel's gray ones. The man startled him for a second, standing there with this harsh look in his eyes.

Frans yawned and slowly stood up from the couch, he realized he had chosen a really bad pose to sleep in, his back was going to be a reminder of that.
Marvel stood like a stone statue, not moving an inch as his steel gray eyes stared at him like a hawk.

"What?" Frans simply asked with a little deeper voice then he usually had. The magic of being sleepy.

"It's my job to look after you, and right now, you're supposed to have rehearsals, but since you were asleep, you have no time for that. So now you need to get showered and then hair, make up and clothes. " Marvel pushed him out of the room, down the long and dark hallway while Frans kept groaning and trying to get away. He hated make up. It feels so odd, of course he didn't get all the pink nails and long eyelashes with red lips. Not that kind of make up. More like something what would make his skin look smooth and face more handsome. He hated it a lot, it was very uncomfortable.

Shower was so relaxing and refreshing. He just stood there, eyes closed. After that, everything else went by in a blur. In a haze, everything.
Clothes were thrown at him and changing room door was slammed shut. He was pushed on a chair and his hair had been soaking in different gels. People ran around him, searching everything. Trying to fix his psychical appearance. They talked, yelled and shouted at each other. While he just sat there on uncomfortable chair, staring at himself from the mirror. Everything else was just a blur.

They made his face smooth and pale. The tired circles under his apple green eyes were gone, hidden away. Somehow they had gotten rid of the red in his eyes as well, no sign of hangover. His curls were nice, soft. His stage clothes were clean, expensive and most of all, stylish.

But there was only one thing he could think about. Or well, maybe not exactly thing. More likely a beautiful woman he had just met. This was all so crazy.

Thinking about Thea gave him some kind of weird energy, it refreshed him up. He stopped his train of thoughts right there. The man's smile in the mirror dropped, what was that?

Confused, he shook his head and focused back to reality. Thinking about Thea made him only more confused. "Frans will be live in five minutes!" Someone shouted over the buzzing people. Immediately protests were heard. "His hair isn't done yet! His shoes don't match the whole outfit!" He thought his curls never looked fine, and the shoes? No one would notice it thought.

"Okay you flies, get out of the way, get out of the way!" Marvel pushed his way through the angry people, yanking Frans up he stomped outside. Angry as a bee. "Move, boy. If you don't want to be late again." Frans though it was better to keep his mouth shut, Marvel seemed to be as angry as usual. So he stayed quiet as they rushed through the maze of a building, other guards following close behind. Always in a rush.

"Wait! Sir! I've got important message that have to be delivered to mister King immediately!" A woman with high heels tried to keep up with them, clutching her phone she pushed past guards next to Marvel and Frans. They stopped by the stage and already Frans heard the thousands of people buzzing inside the great hall. He felt exited, awake.

"Later!" Marvel snarled at the woman. Frans took a step back, Marvel was indeed pretty pissed off. Guess he didn't have a good day as well. "But sir! He said it has to be delivered im-" Marvel pushed the popstar up the stairs to get him on stage. "I said later!" The bulky man gave Frans his earpiece and mic. Oh so familiar adrenaline took ahold of his body, pumping through his veins.

The woman had hurried away and Frans noticed the spark of victory in Marvels eyes.

"Good luck up there, you damned hooligan." Marvel chuckled. Even he felt the excitement in the air. Frans gripped the mic and glanced back to Marvel for a second. "Thanks man." With that the lights in the whole hall went out and Frans made his way to the stage through the darkness.

"How's everyone doing tonight!" He asked in the mic the same second lights went back on. It was indeed full house.
The crowd went crazy, wild even. The screams were so loud he barely heard his own thoughts. But he noticed the familiar people in the fanzone.

The trio he had met this morning. He didn't have any time to think about it, after all, the show must go on.

***
Let's keep it in mind that characters are fictional and so are places and people yeah?