Bringing Elsa Back

The Search Begins

Elsa's P.O.V.

"Miss Wynter, why did you decide to be a singer at such a young age?"

"Is Hans beside you your boyfriend?"

"Are you making any future songs written all by yourself?"

I was being lead through the crowd by Hans, clinging on to his hand to not get lost, flinching whenever a member of the paparazzi waved a microphone in my way.  It felt good to be holding on to his big, strong hands.  "I wanted to have a new start at life, a new different start, so I became a singer.  Hans is the man who offered me this opportunity, and is a very good friend.  I intend to make more songs and not just sing ones that have already been written.  Thank you, thank you!" I called, answering the never ending questions.  Finally, Hans and I made it to the mall we were heading to and we ran all the way up to Cinderella and Tooth's shop.

"Phew," I panted, "Hans, you never told me the paparazzi was this crazy!"

"Don't think of 'em as paparazzi, more like wild elephants or giraffes." Hans joked.  I rolled my eyes.  "Not exactly helping." I said, smiling.  Then, Tooth emerged, tye dye hair in a messy bun, with her all her band members.  Sandy, North, and Bunny.  Cinderella soon followed, carrying hairpins and brushes.  "Oops!" Tooth tee-heed, "Hiya, Wyntie!  We were having a quick meeting."

"In a salon?" I asked, confused.

"Well, we don't have a secret bunker so...yeah.  A salon would do." North said.

"Why are you here?" Cinderella asked.

"Escaping the menace of the paparazzi." Hans said, "And buying some more make up for Wynter."  The salon gives makeovers and sells beauty supplies.  "Well," Sandy said, "we will leave you to your task."  The Guardians left, including Tooth, and Cinderella quietly busied herself by organizing supplies into drawers.  I chose some icy blue eyeshadow, scarlet red lipstick, shimmery mauve lip gloss, and some gold eyeshadow because I was feeling daring.

It had been two weeks since I ran away to New York to become a singer.  My scrapes had healed, but the words still stung.  Sometimes I cried in my bed at night, knowing I was no longer wanted back in New Jersey, with Rapunzel, Anna, Hiccup, Merida, and Jack.  But, on the plus side, my song had been a big hit and the paparazzi had already been tailing me, asking for more.  I was working on the music video and it was almost done.  Today, Hans and I were stocking up on more supplies for me, because, as Hans said, "A singer can never have too many things."  However, I already had more clothes than I ever had at any time.  And makeup, too.  Today, I was wearing a lacy, pale pink romper and a lacy, pale pink sweater over top.  I had a darker pink leather purse, wedge heels with dark pink straps, and a beaded bracelet.  My hair was done in a bun atop my head.  I looked cute and was dressed for the warm weather.  Hans was in jeans, a green T-shirt, a black leather jacket, Timberlands, and sunglasses, so he looked like a handsome rebel.  I was deeply admiring the man I ran away with.

After we bought my stuff, Hans and I walked back to his car.  Did I mention he had a collection of nice cars?  Porsches, Lambroginis, Cadillacs, you name it, he has it.  He and I hopped in an Aston Martin white convertible and drove off, cameras still flashing behind us from the paparazzi.  We sped around the corner and then I felt the same feeling I felt when I ran way.  It was just me and the open road.

I smiled in serenity at Hans as he drove with his left hand, his right resting up on the seats.  I put my elbow up on the car door, propping myself up to his height.  "You like the car, beautiful?" Hans asked. 

"Yes!" I shouted, over the wind whooshing through the vehicle.  Then, everything seemed to go in slow motion.  We were stopped at a traffic light when  I saw a girl with glittering green eyes, a boy with frosty white hair, a boy with a spray of freckles over his oval shaped face, a girl with bushy red hair, and a girl with sad, turquoise eyes.