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October 8, 2012
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Airplanes
FrancexReader

The last act leading up to you finished and applause and whistles rose up in the MPR. Though, the noise wasn't unexpected. It was Francis Bonnefry who just finished singing. And he was very popular.

You didn't expect much for your own act as you tugged down the silver-sequined material of your top. Your black skinny jeans hugged your legs just enough to make them hard to tug on and your (h/c) hair was loose around your face. Sparkly makeup shone around your wide, (e/c) eyes and your lips were painted over with a matching gloss.

Taking in a deep breath of air, you stepped onto the stage. The bright lights blinded you for a second before your eyes adjusted. Once they did, you took in the silence of your peers, trying to figure out who you were. The large projector directed just off stage had two lines of words on it.

'Airplanes
(F/n) (L/n)'

The loud laughter of Gilbert Beilschmidt was heard suddenly and the crowd joined in as they read the sign. But tonight you'd prove just what level you were on.

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now
Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now."

A few jeers were still heard from the many people standing below you, but someone hushed them and they all silenced. You tried to see who got them to stop, but you just caught a glimpse of blonde hair before they disappeared.

"Dreaming,
Oh oh oh oh,
Of falling.
Dreaming
Of falling!"

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself to amaze all these people who were so against you. This song was just as much your story as anyone else's, and by God were you going to tell it.

"Lets pretend like it's 98
Like I'm eating lunch off of styrofoam trays
Trying to be the next rapper comin out the A
Hoping for a record deal to ignore my pain
Now lets pretend like I'm on the stage
And when my beat drops everybody goes insane."

You pushed up the sleeves of your leather jacket, it was too hot under the intense lights of the the stage, and kept going on with the rap.

"Okay
And everybody know my name and everywhere I go people wanna hear me sing
Oh yeah and I just dropped my new album on the first week I did Five-Hundred Thousand
Gold in the spring and diamond in the fall and then a world tour just to top it all off
And lets pretend like they called me the greatest selling out arenas with big ass stages
And everybody loved me and no-one ever hated-"

Your (e/c) gaze glared out into the crowd.

"Let's try to use imagination!"

A few whistles were heard from the crowd listening in, but you didn't let it distract you from your task at hand as you sang through the chorus again.

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now
Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now."

You shrugged off you jacket and ditched it at the side of the stage, revealing the sleeveless top of your shirt. For a moment, you worried that student council would report you for going against dress code, but then you let the song absorb you as you delivered another rap.

"Okay lets pretend like this never happened
Like I never had dreams of being a rapper
Like I didn't write raps up in all of my classes
Like I never used to run away into the blackness
Now lets pretend like it was all good like I didn't live starring in a notebook
Like I did the things that I probably knew I should."

You pulled the mic from the stand and started walking around the stage, as though wondering all of the possibilities of your life.

"But I ain't have neighbours thats why they call it hood
Now lets pretend like I ain't got a name before they ever call me BOB aka Bobby Ray
I'm talking back before the mixtapes before the videos and the deals and the fame
Before the ever once compared me to Andre before I ever got on Myspace
Before they ever noticed my face so lets just pretend and make wishes outta airplanes."

It was as though they had completely forgotten who you were. That you were the freak pretending to be popular for a couple of minutes of fame. You doubted their cheers would last after the show, however.

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now
Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now."

They sang the chorus with you before the tempo slowed for the bridge.

"And it seems like yesterday it was just a dream
But those days are gone and just memories
And it seems like yesterday it was just a dream
But those days are gone."

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the long rapping bit. You kept the mic out of the stand and you glided across the stage, holding the attention of everyone within hearing distance, both in front of and behind the curtain.

"Alright lets pretend Marshall Mathers never picked up a pen
Lets pretend things would have been no different
Pretend he procrastinated had no motivation
Pretend he just made excuses that were so paper thin they could blow away with the wind!"

The large swell of people was silent as you shouted out the words, taking in gasping breaths every time the song allowed it.

"Marshall you're never gonna make it makes no sense to play the game there ain't no way that You'll win
Pretend he just stayed outside all day and played with his friends
Pretend he even had a friend to say was his friend
And it wasn't time to move and schools were changing again
He wasn't socially awkward and just strange as a kid
He had a father and his mother wasn't crazy as shit
And he never dreamed he could rip stadiums and just lazy as shit
Screw a talent show in a gymnasium bitch you won't amount to shit quit daydreaming kid!"

Breathe. Your nerves shook as you approached the end of the song. Just keep your head cool for a little longer. They'll sing the chorus and you can disappear into the crowd before they even realize you left.

"You need to get your cranium checked you thinking like an alien it just ain't realistic
Now pretend they ain't just make him angry with this shit and there was no one he could even aim when he's pissed it
And his alarm went off to wake him off but he didn't make it to the rap Olympics slept through his plane and he missed it!"

You stumbled over your jacket and saw it slip off the stage from the corner of your eye. Your cheeks flamed red, but  no one was laughing at you now. Maybe you wouldn't duck out. Maybe you could keep up your fake confidence until it became real. But at the same time, maybe you'd approach them at school and everything would be the same as always. They'd laugh, and you'd run to the girls' restroom to cry again.

"He's gon' have a hard time explaining to Hailey and Laney these food stamps and this WIC shit
Cuz he never risked shit he hopes and he wished it but it didn't fall in his lap so he ain't even here
he pretends that…"

The mic was held out towards your audience, and they sang out the chorus one final time with smiles on their faces.

"Airplanes in the night sky like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now wish right now wish right now
Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now wish right now wish right now."

Their applause stunned you and you stood frozen on stage for a moment before deeply bowing. The loud clapping and whooping didn't stop until you were long off stage, and even then the people backstage still had yet to silence themselves.

Sweaty and tired, you excused yourself to leave and stumbled down the backstage stairs and out the back door. The frigid night air stuck to your hot skin, making shivers run down your spine. You wished you still had your jacket, but you remembered it's disappearing and started down the street to walk home.

Before you had even exited the school, though, you heard the pounding of feet running towards you. Whirling around, you saw Francis Bonnefry, blonde hair flying behind him, with your leather jacket in hand. He screeched to a stop in front of you and caught his breath before gingerly handing your coat back to you.

Cautious, you took it and pulled it over your frozen arms with a quiet thanks.

Just as you were about to turn and walk away, you felt the Frenchman latch onto your wrist. "Can I walk you home?" The words were fluid from his lips, and you wondered if it was a prank.

Despite the sincere look in his blue eyes, you decided not to trust the popular boy with the location of you house and pulled you wrist away, answering, "No."

"Bu-but, mon amour! Why not?"

You spun on your heel, causing Francis to nearly crash into you. He caught himself just in time and barely bumped you, though he didn't step back. So close to him, you realized the major height difference between the two of you and tried to step away so you didn't have to look up to see him. His hands had wrapped around your waist, crossing over your lower back and resting on your hip. You hated to admit how nice it felt to be held by someone other than your family.

"What did you call me?" you whispered, losing some of you annoyance after feeling his gentle touch that hovered just on your skin.

He smiled. Not his, 'I-know-you-love-me-and-I-will-take-advantage-of-that' smile that he gave every other girl he looked at, but a genuine, loving smile. You thought you heard the click of a camera in the background.

Slowly, he pronounced each word so you could wrap your head around the translation. "Mon. Amour."

Your lips formed a small 'o' and a furious blush crept up your neck as he leaned in closer to your face.

His soft hands separated from your hips and slid down your wrists until they encased your shaking hands. They were guided firmly around the back of his neck. You tried to lift your hands away as much as possible, but when the tall Frenchman raised his head again your clammy fingers were pressed against his smooth skin.

Closing your eyes as he replaced his hands on your hips, you deeply inhaled his warm scent and allowed yourself to relax in his arms. It was nice, you had to admit. Nice that he brought you your jacket, nice that he'd talked to you, nice that he was holding you.

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you knew he felt it, for you could feel the steady thumping of his own heart deep in his chest.

He took a deep breath, "Maybe you need me to translate? Here. I'll try again." Another breath. "May I please walk you home, my love?"

The air exiting his lungs felt warm on your already hot cheeks and you tried to hold your resolve. "N-no."

Hurt flickered in his blue eyes. "But, why?" he asked you, tilting his head to the side and causing blonde locks to tickle your cheek.

"B-because," you stuttered, nervous, "I'm not your friend, so don't pretend like I am."

A frown crossed his face and he furrowed his brows. "Non. You are not my friend." The air left you lungs in a whoosh as he pulled himself closer, eyes half lidded. "You are so much more."

You didn't realize what had happened until you were staring at his closed eyes and you felt the warm sensation of something on your lips. With a gasp you pulled away, but the man seemed content with kissing you anywhere else.

Your cheeks.

"This is a joke, right?" you laughed nervously.

Your nose.

The silence was unsettling. "Very funny guys. Ha ha."

Your forehead.

Each kiss was deliberate and slow, as though he was savoring the sensation of your skin against his lips. "Gu-guys?"

The corner of your mouth.

You bit your lip and figured out that no one was coming to laugh.

The other side.

Your own (e/c) eyes slid shut as his reconnected his lips with yours, sending electric shocks down your spine. Fingers winding through his hair, you toyed with the blonde locks and he pulled you even closer.

A flash. A click. A snicker.

The two of you quickly pulled away, turning to see Gilbert waving a camera through the air and shouting to someone across the drive as he approached you, "I got it! I got it!"

Rustling in the bushes revealed Antonio Carriedo walking closer as well with a small pout. "I got the picture where she figured everything out," he muttered. When the two of them reached you, each slung an arm over your shoulders, resulting in Francis being pushed away.

"Guten Tag, Frau."

"Hola chica!"

Francis looked scared. "M-mes amis."

Antonio ignored him, waving his free hand in the air absentmindedly as he delegated with himself. "Now, (F/n). You seem like a nice girl so I-"

"We!" Gilbert corrected.

Tony's green eyes opened and looked to the albino. "Sorry," he apologized before looking back at you. "We," he stressed the word, making you giggle, "want you to date Francis."

Gilbert grabbed at your attention again. "You look after Francy-pants over there, alright? The awesome me needs time to find a chick of mein own."

You turned frantic, "Wa-wait! When did I agree to-"

"Would you?" Francis's blue eyes looked pleading as he took a step closer to you.

Two more voices filled the air as you contemplated your choice.

"Of course she-"

"My boy-"

"If not-"

"They're perfect!"

You shoved past the two loud teens and stared up at the fair-skinned Frenchman in front of you.

Grabbing his hand, you loosely entwined his fingers in yours and started tugging him away from his friends. "Come on," you muttered, looking away, "Somebody has to walk me home."

I hate this song... BUT I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT!
Am I the only one who sees the BTT acting as each other's parents? Tony would be Gil's and Francis's mommy, and Francis would be Tony's. Gil's always papa, except for when Francis is!
I dunno. My personal head cannon. But I like it.
A lot.
I own nothing and all that stuff.

OTHER QUICK MIX CHALLENGES:
Allies: [link]
America: [link]
China: [link]
England: [link]
Russia:[link]
Axis: [link]
Germany: [link]
Italy: [link]
Japan: [link]
Add a Comment:
 
:iconthunderbuddy69:
thunderbuddy69 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
woh Francy pants :iconblushplz:
Reply
:iconelyanaxlevilove:
elyanaxlevilove Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2014  Student Digital Artist
The cutie France always wins
Reply
:iconvengefulamber:
vengefulamber Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Yup.
Reply
:iconwhisperingwatermelon:
:iconblissplz: Yay!
Reply
:iconxsign-of-firex:
Xsign-of-fireX Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
. . . This is the first time I have ever enjoyed reading something involving France. You are a magical person.
Reply
:iconvengefulamber:
vengefulamber Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Magical... I like that!
Reply
:iconxsign-of-firex:
Xsign-of-fireX Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
^.^ Indeed.
Reply
:iconlilacgiraffe:
lilacgiraffe Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Great story but is my jacket leather or denim? Was ist das? :iconconfuzzledplz:
Reply
:iconvengefulamber:
vengefulamber Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Shoot. Did I mix those up? Lemme just go and fix that...
THIS IS WHY MY EDITOR *COUGHMILOCOUGH* NEEDS TO CHECK HER EMAIL MORE OFTEN!
:p
Reply
:iconlilacgiraffe:
lilacgiraffe Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
It wasn't emailed to me.
Reply
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