6| Strange And Stranger Places

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"Some dance to remember, Some dance to forget

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"Some dance to remember,
Some dance to forget."
- The Eagles

***

"Uhm" Frans shut up when the guy who was currently hugging him, started literally kissing him all over the face with. Frans was frozen, of course he had expected reactions like this from fans but he didn't expect anything like this while trying to get out of a house he had accidentally been crashing in.

"Victor! Get off him!" The blond guy mumbled something into Frans' dark hair but didn't let go. He was sniffing his hair!
Frans tried to get the guy's arms and legs off him but it was no use. The guy or Victor had death grip on him. "Damn Victor!"

Suddenly he saw red nails flashing and the blond guy was ripped off him. Frans took few deep breaths and shook his head, that was really unexpected, and if he was a bit sleepy earlier, then now he was definitely fully awake.
He noticed that Victoria had disappeared with the blond guy, leaving him there with terrified Thea.

"I'm so sorry! But please get out!" She pleaded, glancing back where Victor and Vika had disappeared. "Victor!" Angry shout startled both of them. Thea ripped the door open and nudged Frans out. "I'm so sorry!" She said and looked Frans guiltily.
"Its okay, see you another time." Frans whispered and he was off the exact same second Victor turned around the corner.

Frans found himself in an unfamiliar market, sunglasses on and hood pulled up. He realized he forgot his wallet and phone to their place. For a second he just stood there, people strolling by and not giving him another glance. He couldn't help but burst out laughing. This is the weirdest situation ever. Dumbest, weirdest and most of all, coolest.

Now, where was he.

Familiar poster caught his attention and he stepped closer.

FRANS KING, tickets SOLD OUT!

Did management add extra show to his schedule without telling him? This can't be it can it? No way they could do such a thing. But the tickets were all sold out already. It was a full house and now there was nothing he could of had done. He was frustrated. He didn't have anything against performing but they didn't tell him.

Out of frustration, he did one stupid mistake. He took off his sunglasses and massaged his temples. And that costed him his privacy.

He turned around and took a step back when he was met with five girls gaping at him. They stood in line, beaming at Frans. The middle one gasped "oh em gee!" she said with an accent of some kind.

Already that gesture caught the attention of many others. Frans tried to hide behind his hood buy failed miserably. "I'm your biggest fan!" Frans took another hesitant step back, ready to bolt. Yet he smiled
"that's very cool, I appreciate it a lot!" People stopped and looked at him, realization grossed over many faces when they also noticed the poster he was standing next to.

He was so dead.

Without another glance he turned around and bolted outside, choosing random routes. "Wait! Come back! Don't go!" They shouted and kept running to catch up with him. They screamed so loud that it caught attention of others as well, this was unavoidable.

Frans was terrified. He didn't know where he was, what to do or where to go. And on top of that, he was hungry.
He was getting more tired and tired every second. He was breathing so hard he though he would get a heart attack, choosing random streets and hopping into random markets never helped. He always had to choose yet another street and find a way out of a market.

He must definitely start working out more.

Suddenly when he thought to fall on the ground, familiar black hummer stopped nearby. He made his way across the street, the car door opened for him to jump in and that's what he did. "Drive!" He shouted, laying on the backseat gasping for air.

Marvel raced away from the place Frans was going to avoid for the rest of his life.
Stopping behind a red light, Marvel turned around only to send hard glare towards Frans' way.
"Put your seatbelt on." He said coldly.

He pushed himself up, still gasping for air, being oblivious to his messy clothes and tangled hair that shot up in different angles.
"Hey, do I have another performance coming up tonight?"
For awhile Marvel was quiet and for a second Frans tought he was so angry and refused to answer.
"Yes you do."
Huffing, Frans leaned back, feeling betrayed. But why? He should be used to that already.

"How did you know where to come anyways?" he asked sleepily, trying to distract himself. Marvel glanced at him, a sly smirk on his face. He was smirking, Really?
"Twitter."
He just shrugged. Frans was as confused as ever. Did they really have time to update twitter while running a marathon? One things for sure, these girls were fit.

"And besides. A girl answered your phone."

Marvels judgmental eyes landed on Frans. Marvel was probably thinking something what never happened.

Suddenly the rage in his eyes was almost touchable. He slapped Frans' shoulder. No too hard but not too lightly either, just enough. "Are you stupid, boy? You don't fuck your fans!" Frans was blown away by the anger. He's never been that angry before.

"Its misunderstanding! I swear to you-"
"Misunderstanding?! For heavens sake, King! Do whatever you want with those money needing bitches, but don't use your fans to get rid of stress!"

Marvels knuckles were white and the vein on his forehead was more than noticeable. Frans was too surprised to utter another word, what happened to this guy?

"But I-"
"just... Sit back and shut up. You've caused enough stress for everyone. You missed the Teen Vogue interview already. They had to use Cyrus to fill your place."

Marvel's face was red and his muscles tense. Frans groaned and slammed his head against the soft seat.

Management would surely be furious with him.

But that didn't bother him as much as the realization that Marvel though Frans was using his fans for sex. He would never do such a thing. He would never ask them for something more than just being there for him. The knowing hurt more then he thought. After all, he should be used to emotions like those. He should know how to switch those pity emotions off.

He caught a glimpse of himself from the rear mirror, he looked like a old rat who got hit by a truck. That's how bad he looked. He closed his eyes, cursing himself.

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