Frankie at Work – Chapter 12: A Promise

Chapter Twelve — A Promise


It’s been a wild night at the Morris’. Just when Frankie decided to stay in and not go out to drink until she doesn’t recognize her own reflection in the mirror anymore, Cece and Ellie showed up with bottles of wine and snacks. And June came home early — her employee said he’d close up the restaurant on such a calm night. The girls started to talk and didn’t stop. When Kennedy showed up, they put on music and they empties the bottles while dancing through the living room. Except Frankie. She didn’t dance. Refused to. She just sat back and watched her sisters and special friend having fun. It reminded her of Miguel. Of the fun times during all the tours across the country and the world. Of Noor and her in the living room at the lake. It hurt her heart to not move. It broke in pieces when the beat felt too great to be ignored. But she managed. And she succeeded until everyone ended up passed out on the couch. 

As the doorbell rings in the morning, Frankie raises her head from Ellie’s legs. She has trouble orientating but finally recognizes her own home. The girls grumble and yawn from a lack of sleep and an excess of alcohol. 

“What the hell happened?” Ellie moans.

She puts both hands on her head and realizes her leg is aching from Frankie’s body weight that’s been pressing on it the entire night.

Frankie gets up and clears her throat. She’s not that hungover, luckily. 

“You guys decided to come over. That happened.”

Cece crawls up and rubs her face until she can open her eyes again. In the meantime, June just turns around again to proceed her nap.

When Frankie opens the door, both her heart and mouth drop. It’s Noor, standing in front of her. Mirror image of perfection, dressed all stylishly, hair could’ve come out of a magazine shoot. Did she do it especially for Frankie? Well, of course she did.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Frankie wonders, while rubbing her eyes.

Her throat hurts. It shows.

“Well, aren’t you your usual little ray of sunshine this morning?” Noor smirks nervously, a bit overcome with joy to finally see her friend again. 

She dives in to hug Frankie, but much to her surprise, the girl isn’t keen on hugging her back. It’s just that she’s surprised to see her. Her heart is doing flip-flops and twirls at once. It’s confusing.

“Sorry, I’m just … hungover,” she explains. “My head hurts like a bitch. And I know bitches, I’ve dated a few.”

It’s meant to be a joke and Noor smiles over her goofiness. God, she has missed her. Her hand hangs on to her sleeve. Frankie smells terrible, but she looks divine as always. Just a little bit tired.

“Well, I don’t know what looks messier: your hair or your life,” Noor replies with a mischievous smile.

But Frankie’s snapped out of her confusion. Right now the entire night is flashing through her mind.  The fun she had with the girls. Then comes the image of her late friend. And her coping with the grief and terrible task of missing him. And Aiden — their little talk in his car when he picked her up the last time things got out of control. The shame she experienced when he told her he knew. And her promise to him. To her.

“What are you doing here?”

It sounds harsh and rude, though her tone is a result of last night’s alcohol intake and its effects on her body. It triggers Noor instantly to say whatever it is that’s on her mind. Why she’s here in fact. Why she’s consumed with confusion and hurt and the feeling of rejection.

“It took you three days to text me back.”

Frankie looks up but immediately looks back down. It’s true. She got that text when Aiden drove her home. She ignored it for a while.

“So?”

“You didn’t bother to answer my text for three fucking days. Why would you do that?” Noor wonders.

Nobody ever rejects this superstar. She texts and people immediately text back. She calls and people go through lengths to pick up. Frankie just rubs her face and sighs all tired. It’s been a short night.

“Because I am tired of this bullshit. I am done with being your secret fucking whatever-it-is. I am done.”

Noor stares through the hallway and spies a curious crowd. It’s Cece, Ellie and June, all conveniently strolling around the kitchen on the search for coffee — just close enough to hear the entire conversation. Frankie follows her stare and in an instant, tears fill her eyes. She faces her wonder woman again and shrugs — almost apologetic.

“And I am really, awfully, terribly ashamed to look my friend in the eye and not be honest with him. Because I am a terrible friend and he doesn’t even realize it and I’m too afraid to admit that I’ve slept with his wife.”

It’s true. She lied to him. She told him they aren’t sleeping together. They did. And they almost did again, until Noor cut her hand. The superstar’s breathing chokes. It’s the first time she’s being confronted with it, face to face, with people around. Even if she wanted to, there’s no denying it. And Frankie’s sisters are all staring at her from the corner of their eyes. Frankie notices and she’s ashamed to have said it out loud. Of course her sisters know the truth. It was just a well-kept secret between them. Noor probably knew she told them, but now it’s been confirmed. Time to adjust her attitude.

“Wait, I’m going to get dressed and then we can talk,” Frankie offers, while calmly putting her hand on Noor’s bare lower arm.

It feels warm, as always. Her fingers automatically start to stroke the skin.

“Why? I prefer you like this,” Noor whispers, looking up and down her body.

She’s barely wearing clothes. Just a loose shirt and some shorts. In theory, she’s not far from being naked. See, this is the problem. The flirting. The feelings. It’ll always be a problem. The sisters raise their eyebrows suggestively at each other and suppress a dirty smile.

Kennedy leaves Frankie’s room to walk into the kitchen area and ruin the party. That’s when Noor gets the picture — or at least she thinks she does. Kennedy slept here. Kennedy slept in Frankie’s bedroom. The bed she used to sleep in. The bed where she felt Frankie’s skin close to hers. 

“Could I use the bathroom for a second?” the singer coughs, trying hard to erase that image from her mind — the jealousy.

Frankie steps aside and her hands gestures the girl in the right direction — as if she wouldn’t know her way around the house. She’s not wearing her bracelet. The second Noor passes her, she inhales her scent and it dazzles her. She hates herself over it. Kennedy walks over, says hi the second she recognizes her former boss and doesn’t pick up on the awkward behavior of both girls. Correct that: six girls. Cece and Ellie pour out some cups of coffee, not even counting how many of them desire one. They just do it so they can seem occupied and stay nearby. Frankie just rolls her eyes over their charade, just as Kennedy puts a soft peck on her cheek.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

June glances at Ellie’s mischievous smile and starts to whisper: “Such a champagne problem, that girl has.”

When Kennedy’s done with her morning greeting, she stretches out and demonstrates a painful grimace. Frankie notices and forces herself to seem interested.

“What is it?”

“Damn, I hurt myself. I think I fell last night,” she explains.

“You mean just once?” Frankie smirks, obviously harboring more memories than her.

“What? I tripped.”

Frankie steps away from her, mostly to create some distance now that Noor’s around and mocks her with expressions.

“You were standing still. Absolutely still. And then you fell,” she explains, partly demonstrating the act.

“Gravity and I were having an argument.”

Her cockiness sometimes drives Frankie crazy, but in a good way. Still, she’s not in a good mood yet, and it shows in the way she speaks.

“I bet you were.”

They finally leave the hallway to enter the kitchen area. That’s when the sisters feel confident enough to sit down in the couch. They tell each other how tired they are while stirring the little spoon in their cups of coffee. There’s an extra one on the counter and Frankie claims it. She heaves a troubled sigh.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been a bitch all morning,” Kennedy jokes.

Frankie’s startled by that accusation, so she puts her cup down again after slurping it briefly.

“You’ve been up for what, ten seconds?”

That’s when Noor suddenly resurfaces and clearly overhears the comment.

“She gets like that when she’s hungry,” she tells Kennedy, maybe a bit too confident.

Both the dancers just stare at her like she just said the most awkward thing. Maybe it was too intimate, too carefree, like she’s spend days and weeks and months with the dancer — and yes, she actually has. Like it’s a natural reflex to know everything about her. Frankie frowns, because the fact that Noor knows every little detail about her behavior and character troubles her now. As a way to make it all better, Kennedy draws her attention.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Frankie wants to lie. She wants to lie so badly just to prove Noor wrong. But her stomach is twisting and turning. She nods. That’s when Noor proudly laughs to herself. It’s exactly what Frankie tried to avoid, so she bites her teeth.

“I’ll make you some pancakes. Maybe even an omelet. Just talk to Noor, I’ll be done in a second.”

Kennedy turns to the sisters and raises her voice: “Want some pancakes? I’m, like, an awesome pancake ninja.”

They all nod excitedly. Frankie takes Noor’s hand — shivers immediately run down their spines — and drags her outside. They stay quiet for a while, as life passes the front door just like any other day. Ultimately, Noor kicks the conversation back into action.

“You seem mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Then why are you acting this way?”

“Why are you here, Noor? You shouldn’t be here.”

The singer stares around the place, looking for possible paparazzi to follow her every move. But this is a quite town. They don’t follow her here. Not yet.

“Because I haven’t seen you in months and I miss you. How did I become the bad guy here? What does this woman have on you that I don’t?”

Frankie just shakes her head, too afraid to show her true feelings. She was doing great. Sure, she was messing up and messing around, but at least she didn’t cry herself to sleep over missing Noor anymore.

“She treats me right,” the blonde says, though poorly convincing. 

“Why didn’t you text me back? Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? It’s rude to just ignore me.”

Frankie sighs and crosses both arms defensively: “It’s for the best, Noor.”

“You never apologize for anything. Why don’t you ever say you’re sorry?”

Noor is getting worked up by now. Because Frankie doesn’t seem to be happy to see her. Is she the only one that missed the other? Has Frankie just forgotten all about her?

“If I have to say sorry for every single thing I do wrong, I’ll be saying it as a welcoming phrase, I’ll use it after every sentence. I’ll write it on every paper I’ll ever see. See, there’s a thin line between sassy and being a dick head. I cross it every day. Saying sorry all the time would be exhausting, because I’m a disaster.”

Noor steps up to her and grabs her hand. It feels soft and warm. Frankie’s hair a mess, but she still thinks it’s beautiful. Her eyes are small and red, she still gets lost in them.

“Don’t say that. You are exceptional. You are like a breath of fresh air — and I’ve been gasping for it ever since we parted.”

Frankie just stands there, painfully trying to avoid eye contact as her eyes are filling up with lost tears. They can’t be doing this right now. They said goodbye, many times before. She left, after Miguel died. Everything’s different now. Maybe for the better.

“Do you love her?” Noor asks, as she takes another step closer to her target.

Frankie shrugs: “We have an incredible bond, it focuses solely around alcohol and sex.”

The superstar doesn’t buy the act. She knows who this girl is. How she functions, how she cares and loves. 

“So that’s what you want? A fuck buddy instead of someone who loves you?”

“We already talked about this, Noor. You have Aiden. I’m fine.”

She clears her throat to try that one again.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you to be fine,” Noor says. “I want you to be amazing.”

“Well, then maybe you should leave.”

It could be the truth. If they keep searching for each other, keep meeting like this, nothing will ever change between them. 

“I just don’t get it, okay?” Noor whispers, barely holding onto the fingers of her beloved lady anymore. “You’re still with Kennedy. Even after you told me how you felt about me.”

The air is cold and the sky is dark. It might rain in a second. Lightening might strike. Frankie would love that. But unfortunately, she loves a lot of things. Doesn’t mean she can have them all.

“Yes. I guess we’re all entitled to make one mistake, right?” she sighs.

“Don’t act like we have nothing to talk about.”

Noor’s eyes are the ones that are teared up by now. She can’t stand it when Frankie’s acting all distant — all uninterested. She realized that this is her self-defense mechanism. She knows she tries to live up to her promise. But Noor loves this girl. She loves her with an intensity that cannot be put into words. She misses her during the day and in between lonely moments at night. Standing in front of her only confirms that suspicion. She’s not feeling this worked up or frustrated or weirdly in love with Aiden. When Aiden’s around, she cares. But she doesn’t crave for him to be close. She doesn’t dream about him putting his hands on her. She doesn’t desire the taste of his lips. Not anymore. And even if she ever did, that feeling was never this strong, this persistent, this wanting and confronting. The things that Frankie does to her are transcendental. It comes from outer space. But she’s afraid. Afraid to leave every single aspect of her life behind. Afraid of what people will think and say — to lose her fans. To lose her career. She’s afraid to make a promise to Frankie. 

“Well, maybe we don’t,” Frankie quietly mumbles, pulling herself away from the warmth of Noor’s touch and the sensation of feeling her skin on hers. 

The blonde walks back toward the front door and contains herself from looking back. She enters the house and closes the door behind her. When she does, she falls back against the hard, dark wood and slowly lowers herself to the ground. The house smells like pancakes … and all she can do is cry.


“We have to go!” Ellie insists with determination in her voice that stretches across the entire hallway of their parents’ home.

“Why?” Frankie growls.

She’s seen plenty of concerts. Especially Noor’s. In fact, she was part of them. She experienced the entire length of the sensation, heard the fans scream, saw the girls cry and boys containing themselves from dancing just to appear cool. She has stepped away from music, from having fun to the rhythm of songs and moving to the beat. 

Plus, she hasn’t seen Noor since their little awkward encounter at the front door. It’s been twenty-six days. But now the singer has a new album, Forever. It skyrocketed on the charts and left all the other artists dazzled and confused. It’s supposed to be honest and emotional. Frankie wouldn’t know. She hasn’t listened to it, though Kennedy gave her a copy last week. Noor’s voice is magic. It’s purity and fragilely real. It’s like listening to your own struggles and insecurities while those struggles and insecurities grab a piece of wood and smack you in the face. Listening to it might break her heart. 

“Come on. Noor send me tickets. She asked me to drag you along.”

Frankie looks up to her little sister and shakes her head.

“Why don’t you just ask your boyfriend to join you? I bet that little sponge would love to hold your hand throughout ninety-nine percent of the romantic songs.”

Ellie just looks at her annoyed, but decides to smile: “What makes you think he wouldn’t a hundred percent?”

Just how the entire story of Frankie ending up at a concert with her other sister started, this one escalated exactly the same way. Nagging, begging, emotional blackmail — it all leads to Frankie moping in the passenger seat of Ellie’s car, on the way to the Music Hall Arena nearby. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Ellie turns to her and scoffs: “This is an amazing idea. You love music, Frankie. You’ve fought with mom and dad for years over it.”

Frankie stares out of the window into the nothingness. She sighs.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

They park near the entrance — VIP parking privilege — and enter the large building which contains thousands of enthusiastic fans. Ellie buys them both a drink and leads the way to their seats. The place is dark and it’s bloody warm. Frankie wishes she was home. Mostly because she’ll loose all her resistance once Noor appears on that stage. The star will prove to be excellent and magnificent as usual. She’ll radiate beauty and geniality. And Frankie’s heart will falter. It’ll destroy its own-build walls around it. The blonde nervously inhales and exhales. She’s not ready for this.


The superstar enters through the ground, like she did before and the crowd goes wild. She starts the concert with her biggest hit ever, Crystal Lights. Everyone is screaming like crazy — Ellie is fanatically applauding every other second and blowing her vocal cords by yelling all childishly. And then there’s Frankie, being captivated by the vision of her beloved Noor, pacing up and down the massive and impressive stage, dancing along with the dancers — Frankie recognizes neither of them — and singing her heart out. Her moves are impeccable, her voice sounds angelic. The first hour passes and not one of the fans has stood still, not even during the more emotional and romantic songs. Frankie has watched them all, remembering what this used to do to her. She spots people dancing and enjoying themselves. She recognizes the sound of laughter and love. Ellie grabs her hand, making sure she’s okay. Frankie nods to assure her.

But then Noor has people reeling in a white piano on stage. She sits down on the little stool, which is shaped as a boombox, and clears her throat to talk to the audience. She does that a lot, you see. The singer likes to interact with them, let them know she’s aware of their support and ongoing appreciation of her belting out songs.

“So, this one is another one from the new album.”

The crowd immediately starts to scream and it makes her laugh. Frankie notices the cute dimples on the big screens that show her the zoomed in version of the superstar’s face. She’s all sweaty and red, but obviously, taking a break is something Noor never even considers. 

“I wrote this a while ago and at first, it wasn’t supposed to end up on Forever. But I insisted, because it means a lot to me.” 

The thousands of people are quiet now, all listening to the magical voice of their idol. Frankie looks at her with sad eyes.

“Do you guys know that feeling when you want to make a promise to someone, but you know you can’t?”

She holds a hand near her ear to hear the fans react and in return, there’s confirming cheering. Ellie faces Frankie, who’s just silently listening to the words echoing through the arena. Something tells her this isn’t just a song.

“Well,” Noor smiles after hearing the massive response. “I’ll think you will all be able to relate to this.”

She hits the first couple of notes and Frankie seems to remember them. It reminds her of that night at the hotel, when Noor was playing around with that ugly, plastic guitar.

“Those who bought the album, sing along. Those who haven’t — what are you guys even doing here?” the singer jokes to ease her own nerves.

She starts playing the piano like a professional and that makes Frankie smile at last. Apart from being a singer, Noor’s a talented musician and dancer as well. She’s the full package. The one who does it all and can’t be bothered with it. Her band plays along. There’s the silent participation of a guitar, a bass, drums and a trumpet. They meddle to form the perfect harmony. It’s slow, but not too slow. It’s calm, but still loud enough to get you hooked. It takes you to the perfect sunset on a beach, to the nights in bed when you listen to a thunderstorm, to the empty roads during car trips. To that day at the abandoned pool, on Frankie’s birthday. 

“The way we met, so transcendental, 

I guess I have my heart to blame.

Your careless voice, it drove me mental, 

a heartbeat’s never felt the same.

Had to touch, never stopped glancing, 

piercing eyes drove me insane.

Chased you down, ended up dancing, 

I took you out, you took the pain.

I drive around a million circles, 

think you came from outer space.

You make me laugh and act all crazy,

Lost something I can’t replace.

Know one day, I’ll make a promise,

I’ll be that hero that you need.

One day I’ll know what’s missing

by standing up — accept defeat.

See, we might never rule the world,

or find a kingdom at our feet.

But one day I’ll make a promise,

to be the only queen you’ll ever need.

You are fresh air, a nice surprise,

a side of me I did not know.

Blue and brown, just staring eyes,

As time goes by, the feelings grow.

Belong to him, shouldn’t be dreaming

dreams tell me to take it slow,

Fear breaks out, tears are streaming,

I’ll go wherever you will go.

I drive around a million circles, 

Think you came from outer space.

You make me laugh and act all crazy,

Lost something I can’t replace.

Know one day, I’ll make a promise,

I’ll be that hero that you need.

One day I’ll know what’s missing

by standing up — accept defeat.

See, we might never rule the world,

or find a kingdom at our feet.

But one day I’ll make a promise,

to be the only queen you’ll ever need.

Yeah, one day, I’ll make that promise.

I’ll be the hero.

I’ll be the queen, 

I’ll never leave.”

Frankie’s eyes are blood-red by the time the song ends. Her heart is racing like it’s about to burst from her chest, yet her entire body feels paralyzed. Ellie is looking at her, catching her breath repeatedly. There’s no coincidence when it comes to the lyrics. This is about them — about their journey — about all the conversations they’ve ever had. And the ones that never took place. More than that, the song sparked a feeling she thought that was lost. It made her feel the rhythm, the melody, the tragically perfect orchestrated combination of instruments and sheet music. It reminded her of the first time she ever danced in a music studio, the first time she met Noor. That morning they danced in the mansion/cabin and didn’t care about the world while it lasted. It took her back to Berlin and Brussels and Amsterdam. Noor’s birthday party. Her own.

The dancer finally manages to get up and decides to walk away. Ellie follows her lead, though she would’ve loved to finish the entire magnificence that is this concert. They get intruded on their way out by David, who seems both happy as frustrated to finally run into Frankie again after all this time.

“Frankie. How are you?”

They haven’t seen each other since it happened. He knows she’s been deeply impacted by the horrible accident months ago. He knew Miguel was her best friend. 

“I’m fine. I was just on my way out,” Frankie tells him, rubbing her eyes clean.

David nods compassionately and then softly smiles: “Could you do me a favor? Like, this one little thing, just for old times sake?”

Frankie briefly looks at Ellie and sighs. This is a trap. It must be.

“What is it?”

“The show will be done in a couple of minutes. I want you to do something for the dancers.”

“I’m not a dancer anymore,” she quickly informs him.

“I know. Which is a tragedy,” he smirks gently as he remembers her elegant moves.

“No, what happened was a tragedy. Me not dancing, that’s perfectly okay.”

Her comeback is raw and honest and David averts his sight from both girls. After a few seconds, Frankie seems to calm down. She frowns apologetic.

“What is it?”

“Noor has asked me to come and get you. To see if you showed up. She wants to talk to you for a second.”

Frankie quickly rejects the offer: “I don’t feel like talking to her. Tell her I said thanks for the tickets. The concert was great, as always. The songs are great too. But I have to go now.”

“Do it for the dancers,” he interrupts her as fast as he can, finally revealing the trap part. “You know how she is after a show. Without you, she’ll just freak out again, on her search for imperfection and flaws.”

Ellie frowns — not familiar with the release of adrenaline after a performance — and pokes Frankie hard.

“Come on, she got us tickets. She’s like Beyonce 2.0. You can’t say no to her.”

Frankie looks at her and scrunches her eyebrows: “I can.”

“Well, just because you can, it doesn’t mean you should,” Ellie reasons. “Now go, I’m sure David will hook me up with some backstage tickets as well.”

David looks at the lovely blonde and immediately starts to smile, all impressed. It shows that the girls are related. He reaches out his hand to her and promises to get her in if she just gives him a second. 


“I didn’t want to be here,” Frankie bravely confesses when she enters the dressing room. 

It smells like her. It looks like hers. It reminds her of every single dressing room she has had since they met. Noor is sitting in front of the massive mirror and stares at her through the reflection. She gasps, clearly surprised to see her face. Though part of Frankie’s annoyance was meant to sound funny, Noor isn’t sure how much David has pressured her to show up.

“You look great,” she tells her with a faint smile.

And with great, she means smoking hot. Frankie just smiles as if she has better things to do in life. She doesn’t. Noor gets up from her seat, retightens her bathrobe and walks over to her old friend. Her hand reaches out to touch the skin of the blonde, but Frankie quickly readjust her body to turn away. Noor insists, though, and calmly grasps onto her sleeve, only to lower her hand until their fingers are entwined. Frankie nervously sighs, as if it’s a burden to be this close. As if it cuts her in half. It hurts — physically — to feel the warmth of her body and she shakes her head desperately. 

“Don’t …” she whispers, almost a kind of begging.

But Noor’s other hand claps around her neck and she pulls her closer, until they are joined by their foreheads.

“I miss you,” the singer utters, nearly bursting into tears. “I miss you so much.”

Her heart is pounding like crazy and it’s not the only one. She moves in to kiss the dancer’s lips, but Frankie gently pulls back. Kissing her would make it impossible to walk away.

Noor’s not done yet. She moves her head up and down, caressing Frankie’s skin with it, making her absolutely aware she’s here — that they’re here. In it. Together. Feeling these feelings. And no matter how far they seem to run away from it, it always comes back to slap them across the face. It is now.

Words resurface in her mind. The ones she scribbled down in her MoodBook just hours ago.

‘If you don’t know if they’ll go or they’ll stay, it’s easier to just push them away.’

It’s a lie.


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Frankie at Work – Chapter 11: Tragedy Strikes

Chapter Eleven — Tragedy Strikes


The earth stands still as tragedy hits the stage. Kennedy has Frankie’s hand in hers, while her dark eyes remain closed. There’s dust and clatter, there are noises and at the same time — a deafening silence. People are screaming in panic while all Frankie can do is stare around in confusion. A loud bang, that’s what shook the arena up. A loud, overruling thunder above their heads, as the dancers finished the last of the rehearsal in their sweat-soaked outfits. Frankie looks up and stares at the ceiling. It’s the place were all the lights and boxes hang from wires and ropes. It’s the place where metal constructions are aligned to orchestrate the concert. Tomorrow the tour will kick off. Tomorrow the entire circus will start again. And now there’s nothing but chaos and anxiety filling up the place. 

She snaps out of her infatuation once Kennedy pulls her aside. Her face is covered in smuts of grease and blood — such a weird combination.

“Are you okay?” the girl wonders, while putting both hands on Frankie’s bruised face with concern.

The blonde turns around and nods, suddenly searching for familiar faces. Her body hurts. Something might have hit her. Her eye feels bruised.

“Noor?” she stutters, suddenly overcome with fear.

“Noor’s not here, remember? Are you hurt? Did something hit you? What the hell happened?”

Kennedy looks up to the sky and heaves a panicking sigh. The stage collapsed. Out of nowhere, after all those hours of dancing, the stage collapsed. Like the sky fell down on them. The majority of the dancers are draped across the floor, which is now partly caved in. Kennedy lets go of Frankie’s hand and starts walking around the place, jumping over rolling bars and broken boxes that came falling from the sky. They were dancing, just a second ago — and now there’s tragedy. 

“Miguel,” Frankie suddenly remembers as she starts taking her first steps. “Where’s Miguel?”

Kennedy’s pulling people from under the ruins and stops to look at her, but she hasn’t got an answer to give. People are screaming, some are crying. In the corner of the room, Frankie notices Cameron, with a heavy bar pressuring down his upper body. She runs over to him, coughs through the dust and puts her warm hands on his face. He’s tearing up with pain and she’s afraid there’s nothing she can do to help him. This bar looks heavy. She gets up and tries to lift it — but fails. There’s no way in life she’ll be able to lift this thing. That’s when she starts shouting names to ask for help. Some of the dancers that got away with a couple of bruises and scratches quickly arrive. They join to lift the heavy metal from Cameron’s body and once’s he’s free, his real tears kick in. Maybe he’s overwhelmed with fear. Or happiness that he didn’t suffer worse.

“Where’s Miguel?” Frankie asks him, too overcome with concern to focus on his injuries.

Sirens reverberate in the background. The police and the fire department must be on their way. No wonder — the sound that came from the collapse was immense. All around them, there’s hysteria and madness. Frankie has never felt this lost in a crowd — so alone and distanced. 

“Where is he?” she pleads, as she turns her head around to find his face between all the others.

He’s not there and Cameron can’t tell her. He hasn’t seen Miguel in a while. She turns to a redhead, Jennifer, but she hasn’t got a clue either. No one does. Suddenly, in between all the drama and hysteria, Kennedy’s voice transcends everything. Frankie looks up to find her standing across the stage, across the large gap and the tons of materials. It seems so far away.

“He’s here!” Kennedy shouts at her pointing at the gap in the floor. “Miguel’s here.”


A silent knock on the door doesn’t make her look up once. When the door opens and Noor enters the cold room like a thief in the night, Frankie doesn’t move a muscle. All she can do is stare at the nothingness in front of her. At the endless sky streaming in through the hospital window. Her mind and body feel numb, though every time she moves a muscle, her entire body hurts. There are bandages wrapped around her head. There’s a bandaid on her upper arm and one near her collar bone. Noor walks over to her, with a stoic face and eyes that reflect a scared animal in front of headlights, and sits down next to her on the bed. She lays her hands carefully on Frankie’s bruised cheeks and heaves the most troubling sigh. The singer’s been worried sick about her. The second she heard about the stage disaster, she jumped in her car and raced straight to the hospital. It was dress rehearsal today. She was supposed to join them later, in an hour or two. The last one before the tour will start tomorrow. But that all didn’t matter after the news reached her ears. Because all Noor could think about was Frankie. Whether she was save. Whether she was hurt. Whether something hit her. She cried in the car. She was hysterical and she didn’t know how to handle her feelings. She drove faster than she ever did and nothing about it felt wrong. Because she would’ve gone even faster if she could. Something stopped her on the way to the reception after the pictures of the stage on some of her employers’ phones left her breathless. And that something was Kennedy. The girl grasped her hand and abruptly ended the hurried pace of her boss.

“Where is she?” Noor demanded to know without once wondering if the girl in front of her was all right. “Where’s Frankie?” 

“She’s in room 417,” Kennedy stuttered, exhausted and worn out. “Have you heard?”

Noor turned around all confused and scrunched her eyebrows. She saw all of her friends and colleagues. They were cramped up in this small room — all with bandages and bandaids or crutches to support their hurt bodies. It made her choke up. She had never seen such a scenery.

“Heard what?” she muttered .


Frankie hasn’t said a word since Noor walked in and the singer doesn’t know what to do about it. Her lean fingers stroke the pale, dirty skin of the girl next to her for the third time. They are sitting on a squeaky bed. This place seems worlds apart from the chaos Frankie just escaped from.

“Are you okay?”

It’s the softest voice that ever reverberated, filled with fear and sadness. Frankie finally faces her and leans her face into the caressing of Noor’s fingers for a while. Her eyes are closed, but the singer detects hurt and confusion. How can she help her? What can she do? There must be something.

“Frankie.”

When she says her name, those shivers return. The same shivers that run up and down her body. It’ll never change.

“Are you okay?”

Frankie then nods. She swallows down her lost tears.

“I’m fine,” she whispers.

But as the words leave her body. She fights back the hurt in her muscles and skin.

“Fine,” she repeats, less convincing.

She closes her eyes for a second and sighs away her frustration. Not a painkiller in the world could fix this right now.

“I’m fine,” she ultimately says as she clears her throat and sniffles.

Noor runs some fingers up and down her face, gently wiping away traces of dirt and grease. She softly touches the redness where Frankie must have bled a few minutes ago. It kills Noor to just think about it. 

Her act isn’t fooling anyone. Miguel died. Miguel died on that stage. He’s the only casualty. The only person tragically hit in the head that didn’t survive. Of all people, Frankie’s very best friend.

“That bad, huh, honey?” Noor concludes in a soft voice.

Her favorite girl in the world flashes heartbreaking eyes. Noor just broke her wall. 

“Yes.”

She bends forward and buries her body in the comforting arms of the woman she loves. The woman she hasn’t talked to in a while, the one she’s treaded badly and acted all distant to. Because it was for the best. It was a way of dealing with her feelings and the fact she’ll never be with her. It was to protect Noor and her career. That’s when she starts to cry uncontrollably. Being in Noor’s embrace has that effect on her. She’s allowed to let it all out — worse: she can’t help it. The dark-haired beauty doesn’t judge or talk. She just holds her tightly and soothes the loud, hiccuping and devastating sounds of the blonde. 

“Can we, just, not act all distant right now?” Frankie begs her a minute later, after her first wave of emotions have passed. “Can we just talk and support each other and forget about the fact that I have feelings for you and I’m being this really big bitch about it, just for a second? For one night? Because I really, really need my best friend right now to talk to and it’s like … I’m missing you so hard. I miss you every single second you are not near. And not being able to talk to you is … it’s the worst thing that ever happened to me. And I really need you right now.”

Noor nods. She feels the same way. Frankie tried to live up to her promise. She tried to stay away after their little talk in Frankie’s backyard. It was so hard. So devastatingly hard. But they managed. 

“Okay,” Noor says quietly. “I’m here.”

Frankie breaks down in pieces, right in front of her eyes. And Noor doesn’t need to pick them up or glue them back together. She just ignores the brokenness and sees her for the complete person that she is. The singer holds her while she cries her heart out — she holds her tight and doesn’t say a word for hours. It’s the thing you are only able to do with people you entrust your heart to.

Neither of the girls know how much time has passed when Frankie sits back up and leaves Noor’s comforting arms. The superstar wipes the tears away with some fingers and smiles — even if it is to make Frankie seem less sad. It’s not working, though.

“What do you want? Tell, me! Whatever it is, I’ll get it for you and it’ll make you feel better. Just … what do you want?” she wonders.

She’s willing to fly her around the world if that’s what it takes. Or home. She could fly her home to her parents and sisters. They are hours away from here.

Frankie blinks a few times and looks numbed and sedated at once. Her phone’s been buzzing like crazy, but Kennedy took care of most of the panicking calls for her the first hour. After a moment of silence, she stares right at her. She feels it in her bones. She feels it in her heart and head. There’s only one answer. One that will do all her feelings justice. One that shouldn’t be said but is dying to come out.

“I want you.” 

It’s so quiet and soft that Noor could’ve easily misheard.

“I want you,” Frankie whispers while the tragedy of her words invade her heart. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Noor closes her eyes briefly and inhales sharp strings of air. 

“Wait, Frankie. I thought we settled this — that we were waiting or stopping  or — that this was …”

The blonde nods and swallows deeply, which hurts as well. She thought that too. But then again, she thought a lot of things just a few hours ago. And yet, everything has changed. Abruptly, suddenly, without a warning. Life was easy and careless. It revolved around dancing and working. She stepped back from Noor and blurred her mind with other things. Noor kept her careless life, Frankie kept dancing. But then the stage collapsed. Miguel died. The world changed. Perspective changed.

“Well, I thought that too,” Frankie says. 

She’s fighting back the tears but keeps her cool at the same time. 

“I thought I could get over it. But’s it’s grown to be much more serious to just flirt and play anymore. I am jealous of every second he gets to spend with you. And I’m going crazy just thinking about you sleeping next to him instead of me.”

Noor puts her hand on the rising chest in front of her.

“Frankie …”

She cannot do this right now. The adrenaline is speaking. Not one single person of their entourage is thinking clearly now. Not even Noor. She might just say yes. She might just give Aiden up in the blink of an eye after today’s events if Frankie keeps talking. That scares her tremendously. The dancer looks at her and holds onto the hand that’s touching the skin close to her heart. 

“I have fallen in love with you. Hard. Like, falling from the sky, missing all the branches of the tree to break my fall on my way down, smack to death on a concrete floor instead of a trampoline kind of hard. And I don’t want to play anymore. But I know I should. I have to.”

The confession takes the singer’s breath away. Her heart is racing and her senses are going wild. She has never heard anyone being so honest and brutally confronting. Because everything she just heard, it reflects her own feelings. It’s the exact same spell infecting her body and soul. She’s in love with Frankie too. She might have been from the second she laid eyes on her. It took her a while to figure it out, but there’s no denying it. Not anymore. 

“Frankie, I’m …”

Noor’s just stuttering words. They are unordered and spontaneous and confusing. Frankie notices.

“I know. I know, it’s … I have to go.”

Frankie tries to get up, but Noor stops her by getting up herself and pushing the dancer back down. Her face is overcome with expressions of pain. She must have been hit hard.

“No,” Noor gently tells her, while keeping her hand just a little longer on that bruised skin. “You stay. I’ll have someone pick up your family. They’ll be here in a few hours, okay? Just stay in this bed …”

Her voice breaks for the smallest second, so she needs to pick herself up again to continue. 

“… and get better and sleep until they arrive. Please, Frankie, do that for me? Promise me.”

Frankie closes her eyes and refrains from bursting into tears. She nods and turns away from Noor to inhale deeply. Noor bends forward and kisses her temple with so much love it might just be the sweetest gesture in the world. It might be her confession of love. She’s dying to, but she can’t tell her. She can’t tell her she feels the same. Because of her career. Because of Aiden. Because of her marriage. Her vows. Frankie’s promise. That talk in the backyard.

“I can’t be your best friend anymore, can I?” she wonders, after softly caressing the face she once kissed so fiercely. 

It tasted great. It still tastes great in her memory.

“No,” Frankie mutters, averting from her. “I don’t think you can.”

Noor pulls her hand back and realizes where this has ended up. This thing she has with Frankie, it’s epic. It’s the purest thing she’s ever experienced. And in order to be able to get passed that, she must walk away — don’t treat her as her best friend anymore. It’ll tear her apart, because those feelings are so very strong. It’s the only option. They both realize that. It took a tragedy to accept the truth.

“I don’t think I can either.”


The tour ends before it even starts. Noor cancels the four-month journey across the world. Tickets are returned and refunded. Fans are disappointed, but understanding. The dancers split the entourage as if they were never part of it. Some of them got bad enough injuries to never professionally dance again. Miguel gets buried on a rainy Thursday morning and it’s the saddest damn thing in the world. Frankie cries throughout the entire ceremony, while Noor seems a million miles away from her. Except she’s not. She’s standing two rows behind her, watching her every move, every shake of her shoulders going up and down from crying. It’s breaking her heart and there’s nothing she can do to make it better. Aiden holds his wife’s hand to comfort her, but Noor realizes she’s too worried about Frankie to cry herself. 

Frankie resigns as a background dancer and doesn’t even call Noor to inform her. The singer gets over that disappointment rather fast. She understands that Frankie’s grieving. Noor is on a media turmoil of interviews and expressing her sentiment for the family of her deceased dancer. Tabloids post the horrible pictures of the stage. The management sues the arena and the stage builders. They win. Miguel’s relatives receive a large amount of money to ease their pain. But will it ever? Noor ultimately returns to the studio to create her new album. It’ll be paced down and emotional, to honor the tragedy that hit her world tour. Noor doesn’t tell the world press that it’ll be to write off the pain of missing Frankie too. She’s missing her with every heartbeat and every second that passes — and there is absolutely nothing she can do about it.

Months pass and Noor still hasn’t heard from that pretty blonde that shook up her entire life. Her life seems meaningless and directed by others. Aiden is being a perfect husband. David drags her from photoshoots to arenas, but it doesn’t feel real anymore. Singing for all those fans is different now. It’s not as important anymore as seeing Frankie smile. As knowing she’s safe and happy. If only she were happy.

Somehow, she hoped the girl would’ve reached out to her by now. That she’d be missing her as well. Aiden gets to see her on occasions. They attend sports games and meet when he’s in town. It’s like Noor’s being left out on purpose. And nobody even notices.

Her house feels deserted. Frankie no longer spends nights in the spare bedroom anymore. She doesn’t roam the halls of the arenas with her underwear on her head to make others laugh. They don’t sleep in the same bed anymore. Noor can’t sleep at all, at night.


“Are you having fun?”

Aiden turns his head to a numbed Frankie and pokes her shoulder playfully. She looks up and smiles — faintly. 

“This is great. Thank you.”

He frowns in a disappointed way: “You don’t really burst from enthusiasm. Want to get out of here?”

“No,” Frankie insists while turning back to the baseball game happening in front of them. “It’s good to be out here.”

Aiden offers her some chips, but she kindly declines. Her mind’s not at this game. Her mind’s with Miguel. It happened six months ago this day. It’s almost an anniversary. They watch the game in silence and as time passes, Frankie downs more and more cups of beer. She’s getting buzzed and likes the feeling of not caring that much anymore. Aiden is worried, but he lets her. He understands that she needs this, especially today. When the game ends, a line of paparazzi welcomes them at the exit. He supports her body with his strong arms as he charmingly waves at the gathered photographers. Nobody notices just how drunk his mate is. 

“Don’t you hate that your life is directed by strangers?” she asks.

He just nods.

It’s late at night when he puts her to bed. For a while, he sits at her side, patiently waiting for her to fall asleep. June walks in after work and nearly scares herself to death when she sees him through the open door of Frankie’s bedroom. He just puts his index finger on his lips to shush her. Frankie’s eyes just closed. They are wet from crying. It broke his heart. When he leaves the room and pulls the door silently into its lock, June’s startled expression amuses him.

“Hi, I’m not sure we met appropriately. I’m Aiden Stonewell.”

“I know,” the brunette mutters. “I’m June.”

It makes him smile. 

“What happened? Did she get drunk again?”

It sounds demeaning and criticizing. He now understands why Frankie calls their relationship fractured. 

“She lost a friend. She went through a terrible thing. A whole stage collapsed on top of her. She’s allowed to act out for a little while.”

But June disagrees: “Frankie’s no saint. She’s always been the dysfunctional one of the family. Never really has a job, always out until sunrise, terrible taste in girlfriends, …”

Aiden walks past her, heading toward the front door. His blood is starting to boil. Frankie does have a job — or at least she had. She was a professional dancer for the biggest star in the music industry. Despite that, she chose to educate children in her free time and help out at her sister’s restaurant whenever she could. She trained every single day to perfect her dancing skills. There’s nobody who works harder than his friend, maybe not even Noor.

“Not everyone is perfect, June,” he tells her, embracing his own mistakes and flaws before holding on to the handle. “Doesn’t mean they stopped trying to make the best of it.”

He shuts the door behind him after wishing her a good night’s rest. June aims her sight at the locked doors surrounding her. Great, now he thinks she’s an ass. 


“Morris! Get up!”

It’s late at night when Aiden stands in front of her. She’s positioned on the floor, outside a trendy club in midtown. Her dazzled eyes look up and she recognizes him eventually. He’s not angry or upset, he’s just worried. His arms go searching for hers, so he can get her off the ground. It took her an hour before she realized there was no way she’d be able to get home on her own. All her friends left hours ago, Kennedy didn’t even join. When she grabbed her phone, she automatically went searching for the name she adores. Noor. Her fingers almost pressed the green button. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Calling Noor now would’ve broken her completely. She felt messed up enough already. God, she misses her. She misses her with every breath she takes, every second that passes. She misses her voice and the way she chuckles whenever Frankie’s acting all goofy. The only thing keeping her close are the pictures in tabloids. Pictures of her at events or concerts. Photoshoots for famous brands and interviews. Pictures with fans. But that’s nothing compared to the memory of touching her skin — of kissing her lips. 

Frankie ultimately ended up calling the husband. A for effort. He’s been her buddy for the last couple of months, the one that drags her along with his friends to sports events and great parties. But Aiden’s getting tired. There’s work. Acting is a demanding job. And Noor requires a lot of his time as well, now that he’s behaving so perfectly. They go out to fancy restaurants, take romantic walks in the mountains or strut the red carpets while holding hands. It’s painfully visible for Frankie. Every page she turns is a scrapbook of the relationship she cannot have — the one her best friend has. With her other best friend. There used to be Miguel. He’s gone too. All because of her ridiculous obsession with Noor. Her obsession with dancing and making it in that industry. Her obsession to include him in her dreams. Now he’s dead. 

She wrote in her MoodBook this evening, right before she headed out the door and got wasted. ‘You left — and you took everything from me with you.’ She wasn’t really sure who she was talking about.

Aiden pulls her up and guides her to his car. Photographers snap some pictures and he kindly ask them to stop. They don’t listen. After he hits the road, Frankie turns her head to him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says.

It remains quiet for a while. Frankie’s trying really hard not to throw up in this million dollar car. Well, maybe it’s not that expensive. Aiden looks at her and sighs. There must be a way to cheer her up — to lighten up the mood. He clears his throat and blinks a few times. He was fast asleep when she called him. Noor jumped up in a panic, wondering whoever dared to call at such an unholy hour. He said it was Frankie, which shut her up immediately. After the call ended, he explained what happened. Frankie was drunk and lost. She didn’t know how to get home. Noor begged him to go get her. When he suggested she should join him, the singer declined. Aiden just nodded and turned his head away from her.

“I met June after I drove you home and put you to bed last week. Must say, she’s quite the character. Are you sure you’re related?” he asks.

Frankie smirks and faces the street lanterns.

“I’ve had my doubts,” she says calmly. “But mom insists it wasn’t the milkman.”

Aiden pats her leg to offer some comfort. She apologizes once more for dragging him out of bed, but he says it’s fine once more.

“Mind if I ask … Why didn’t you call your parents? Or your sisters? Noor once told me you were a close family.”

“We’re close and at the same time, we’re not,” Frankie tells him. “We hang out a lot, spend every Christmas and holiday together. We gather to talk about work and gossip about other relatives. But it’s not like I share my emotions. Maybe with Ellie, but that’s it. The truth is, they make a great family as long as I’m not there.”

“What does that mean?” Aiden wonders as he switches driving lanes and checks his rear-view mirror.

“I’m the special one. But not in a remarkable way,” Frankie explains with a soft voice and small eyes. “I’m the sister that doesn’t fit in because she can’t bring herself to talk about fashion or gossip, and instead, rather talks about culture or parties. We’re miles and miles apart, but this family thing, it keeps us together. It’s a rope that has us enchained and no matter what, our surname, our legacy, our family tradition keeps us tied to it. There’s no way escaping it. I’m the lonely one. The one that peeps from the corner, the one who doesn’t understand what the hell keeps them entertained. And because they are family, I’m never allowed to leave them. So they are kind of my charity event every week. I keep going back to them, even though nothing — not a single, freaking state of mind — keeps me connected to them. And despite all of that: I love them.”

Aiden nods and thinks about his own family. Families are never perfect. Still, you fight for them. Because if you don’t even fight for those related by blood, what’s the point, right?

Frankie’s concentrating really hard to keep her breathing controlled. It’ll keep the nausea away as much as possible. Her friend sees her stoic expression, notices how she keeps her eyes closed. His fingers press a button and her window lowers a little bit.

“Fresh air might help,” he explains.

His mind is wandering. It brings him to places where he never thought to see his friend. She’s messed up right now. She’s seriously hurting. And this isn’t helping. For a while, he thought it was fine. Acting out sometimes help to process things. But after a while, it has to stop. She hasn’t even danced in months. Not a single move, not a little twirl. She backed away from it without any explanation or reasoning. It might remind her too much of her childhood years, where she frantically practiced every day in her room, with the enthusiastic and funny Miguel by her side. 

“This is the third time this month I have to come and pick you up in such a state,” he says. “See, Frankie, I don’t care if you want to go out until sunrise and get hammered. I’m not your father. I don’t care if you get lost on your way home and you have to call me in the middle of the night. I don’t care that this is your way of mourning. It’s your right to go crazy and wild over what happened.”

He pushes the gear shift and stares into the darkness of the night. That’s when he lowers his head briefly before opening his mouth again.

“I don’t even care if you’re sleeping with her,” he calmly adds.

Frankie looks up to him with wide eyes. Her heart stops beating instantly. What did he just say?

He swallows disoriented and shakes his head: “Or maybe I do. I don’t know. Noor and I — we’ve come a long way. I screwed up plenty of times. But I love her, okay? I adore her. She’s my wife. I can’t imagine my life without her. I won’t survive. Please don’t take her away from me.”

Frankie’s too ashamed and overcome with surprise to even say a thing. She just stares at him, feeling utterly disgusted by her own actions. Suddenly, the nausea returns. After a couple of seconds, she heaves a troubled sigh. How can she ever say the right thing?

“I’m not sleeping with her,” she says. 

Frankie’s not even sure if she’s telling the truth. Apart from that one-time-event at Noor’s birthday, they didn’t actually have sex again. But whatever they were doing might be so much worse. 

“I know she loves you,” Aiden resumes with a soft voice, as if it’s the most natural conversation in the world. “She’s crazy about you. I see it when you’re at the house. It took me a while to realize what’s going on. Her eyes light up when she sees you. Her mood changes drastically whenever you enter the room. She cries when she misses you. I get it. You’re one of my best friends. I could fall in love with you in an instant. But you have to realize that, as long as you’re around, Noor can’t love me too. And she needs to love me. We made a vow. I promised to forever stand by her side and I intend on doing that. I sobered up, changed my ways, I haven’t flirted with a girl in months, you know that. It’s not even a big deal, because I have her. So I want you to leave her alone, Frankie. I am asking you very politely to leave my wife alone — to save my marriage. Could you do that?”

She’s sitting in the passenger seat of his black SUV. He just got out of bed at two a.m. to pick her up after a desperate call. He’s driving her all the way home, just because she asked. He’s a good friend to her. He’s a great friend, actually. Never has he ever disappointed her in this relationship — and look at her, betraying him in the worst way possible.

“Okay,” she whispers.

It’s done. They don’t say another word after that anymore. Noor texts her that night to see if she’s okay. Frankie turns off her phone.


 

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Frankie at work – Chapter 8: Crazy emotions

Chapter Eight — Crazy Emotions


The doorbell rings early in the morning and Frankie doesn’t even bother to get up. Maybe it’s some salesman or June has some kind of friend coming over. That would surprise her, though. June isn’t exactly the inviting-friends-over type.

After a second ring, the front door unlocks. Voices reverberate through the hallway. Frankie buries her head in the pillow to deafen herself. She turned off the sound of her phone four days ago, after everyone kept calling her. She didn’t pick up once. Pretty sure David left some awfully angry voicemail messages for her to roll her eyes over. Fuck David.

Kennedy just texted. Five times. It went like this.

Saturday, 6:34 p.m. — ’Where are you? The show’s about to start.’

Saturday, 11:13 p.m. — ’Frankie, are you okay? Are you sick?’

Monday, 10:01 a.m. — ‘Okay. Noor’s being a bitch. I guess that has something to do with you.’

Thursday, 15:44 p.m. — ‘Frankie?’ Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 8: Crazy emotions”

Frankie at work – Chapter 7: Noor’s birthday

Chapter Seven — Noor’s Birthday


The teasing has been going on for months. Summer passed as fast as it came while fall and winter are now battling each other for dominance. It’s cold outside and Frankie can’t wait until spring will make its reappearance. Just a few more weeks. Sunshine is always coming back. She’s shivering as time passes slowly. Noor and her entourage disappeared in a nearby music store to promote the new album while the dancers gathered around the tour bus, patiently waiting to head toward the next village that’s on the schedule. She secretly loves being on tour. Everything’s happening so fast and unexpected, it’s crazy. June is over the point where she’s pissed off about Frankie’s sudden career peek. She just talks to her little sister with words drenched in sarcasm and criticism. Not that Frankie’s home a lot. When it’s work-related, she often stays at Noor’s house. Whenever she feels like having some fun, Kennedy’s apartment door is open for her. And in between, touring or rehearsing takes up most of the time. That’s when all her favorite girls get together and things get complicated at times. Luckily, Frankie doesn’t seem to care a lot. Noor must know what’s going on between Kennedy and Frankie, but she has never said a word about it up until now. And Kennedy raises more than one questionable eyebrow over Noor and Frankie’s interaction, but maybe she’s happier not knowing.  Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 7: Noor’s birthday”

Frankie at work – Chapter 6: Utter Confusion

Chapter Six — Utter confusion


The inevitable happens four days later. Kennedy and Frankie are left alone when David and Noor head out for drinks with the big shots of the music label. Dancer friends aren’t optional. So the girls go out for dinner at a local restaurant and remind themselves this is certainly not a date. Kennedy explains that it’s hard to maintain a relationship when you tour a lot. She’s been Noor’s loyal sidekick for four years now. Her last girlfriend dumped her after not hearing from her in two weeks. But the dancer acknowledges that a busy tour scheduling wasn’t a very good excuse to just disappear from said girlfriend’s life.

“I just don’t think I’m a hundred percent relationship material.”

“Why is that?” Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 6: Utter Confusion”

Frankie at work – Chapter 5: Get to know me

Get To Know Me


“Tell me about your family.”
Frankie raises a curious eye and shrugs. It’s getting late. Three in the morning. The morning sunshine won’t be their best friend in a few hours. Noor’s changed into some cute pajamas and pulled back her gorgeous hair into a ponytail. She almost looks normal.
“What about them?”
“Tel me about them. Being related to you must mean they are extraordinary people.”
But Frankie laughs the sweet comment off.
“You’re always asking about my family. Why is that?” Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 5: Get to know me”

Frankie at work – Chapter 4: Normal life

 Normal Life


 

The show was amazing. Frankie danced like she had never missed an evening of the tour — or an hour of repetition. Her complete concentration was focussed on the dance moves, on the way Noor’s musicians filled the entire arena with powerful vibes and rhythms, on the way the energy of the crowd made her try even harder. She’s sweating like crazy by the time the last song fades out. The crowd is going insane. It’s ecstatic. It’s unreal. It’s amazing. This might be the best experience of her life. Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 4: Normal life”

Frankie at work – Chapter 3: Berlin

Berlin


Well, the bad news is: June was about to kill her when she got up and announced her plans for the next three weeks. There were certain days, mostly Saturdays, when she really needed her help at the restaurant. The good news is: a second later, Noor walked out of the same bedroom and June forgot about all of it to stalk the famous singer for a decent hour. Noor didn’t mind. She was happy to get to know Frankie’s sister — even though she was a bit intense and weird. Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 3: Berlin”

Frankie at work – Chapter 2: Miguel

Miguel


 

“What do you mean, you went on this small trip with Noor?”
June is standing in front of her, all defensive and — not to mention — mad. Frankie completely bailed on her and she’s not happy about it. Sure, she hung out with the rest of that famous crew for the rest of the night and scored the number of a famous producer, but still — there are boundaries. The youngest of the sisters clacks her tongue and resorts to silence to come up with a decent explanation, but there isn’t one. It’s late and Frankie’s feeling tired. All she wants to do is go to sleep. In her own bed this time.
“Where did you go?”
“Just somewhere out of town. Into the woods.”
June frowns: “The woods?”
“Yeah. The woods. It was fun.” Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 2: Miguel”

Frankie at work – Chapter 1: It’s probably a bad idea

Chapter 1: It’s Probably A Bad Idea


Frankie was about to kill her sister and it wasn’t even noon yet. The dark-haired roommate of hers had been nagging and playing a victim for hours. It started before the sun was up. Before Frankie was up. Said nagging woman, June, ran into her room — dramatic swing of the door included — and started yelling hysterically about a shirt that came out of the dryer ruined. It was only after Frankie informed the drama queen she had laundry duty last night that the room became silent again. Frankie was left with the urge to kill her.  Continue reading “Frankie at work – Chapter 1: It’s probably a bad idea”