This thing popped up in my head, quite unexpected. Yay. This is going to be a 2-shot. Never wrote anything like this before. Will probably contain FrUS in the second chapter, or just friendship, I don't know. Also: Hints at other pairings. Enjoy :)
Francis
"You really need to lose weight, Francis." Maman snaps, her bony fingers poking everywhere.
I bow my head, trying to look at my stomach. My mother grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at her.
"Are you even listening? Do you know 'ow important this competition is!? Do you want to look like a whale on your pictures!?" Her long nails dig into my chin, and the only thing I can do is shake my head. "Non maman."
Maman releases me, shaking her head and burying her face in her manicured hands as if she's the one who was just called a whale. She continues to tug on my shirt, trying to push my stomach in. She squeezes so hard it hurts. "See!? It doesn't fit because you got fat. Good job on ruining your photo's, mon fils. Tres bien."
I can feel my eyes starting to water. "Maman, S'il vous plait,-" Maman doesn't even let me finish my sentence. She stomps with her high-heeled foot, snapping her fingers into the air. "A corset? Does anyone here have a corset!? Somebody bring me one, quick!"
I resist the urge to run away, out of the door, to the nearest airport, to never come back. As if modelling in nothing but an oversized shirt isn't humilliating enough for me, lovely teen model Francis Bonnefoy, I also have to choke myself with some torture device.
I watch my mother scream at the make-up ladies, her head is beet red and some of her hair has fallen out of her bun, dangling in front of her face. When I was little, I thought maman was a monster who'd kidnapped me when I was just a bébé , a horrible monster who'd force me to pose in the weirdest clothes, and made me hang out with stupidest plastic people. Imagine my disappointment when I realized that monster was actually my mother.
Maman comes back with a light blue corset and two women, one short and tanned, the other tall and freckled. She continues to scold me while the ladies tie my corset. "List everything you've eaten today." She says, readjusting her glasses on the tip of her nose.
I frown, trying to remember what I've eaten for the past twenty-four hours, while the life is being squeezed out of me by the damn corset.
"Ah..I had yoghurt, and two crackers...and an apple...Oh and it was Gil's birthday so I-"
"You did what?" Maman hisses.
Silence.
I look at the ground, maman trembles slightly, and both woman stop pulling on the corset, watching nervously.
Maman takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
"Francis," she says, voice shaking, "Please tell maman you haven't eaten anything fat."
I don't dare to look at her, so I look at her shoes instead. Pointy toeed high heels, Armani, of Chanel? I wonder if she'd be able to kill me with them.
"Francis, garcon, look at me!" She snaps.
My blue eyes meet hers, and I feel like I'm going to collapse under her dissapointed gaze. "I thought Gilbert also knew of your diet?" She whispers, voice as sweet as sugar.
Ah yes, Gilbert knew, yes. Today had been nice, I've spend most of the day skipping lessons with Toni and Gil. We talked about stuff, listened to Gil bragging about his date to the school dance, Elizaveta, how's that even possible!, tomorrow, and Tony and I discussed what we would wear tomorrow. Tony is going with Lovino and I.. well I am going with Sesel, my cousin, because maman won't even let me near the 'barbaric', normal people. Anyway, Gilbert knew. But that didn't stop him from buying the largest, most delicious chocolate cake in the world.
"Come on Franny, it's just one slice, and you like like a skeleton anyways. Kessese!"
It was one small moment of weakness, but I know maman won't forgive me.
The tanned lady clicks her tongue disapprovingly, as if scolding me. Maman gives her a heated glare and she suddenly seems very interested in the hem of my shirt.
"O-oui maman." I whisper, fumbling with my sleeves nervously.
"Then WHY THE FUCK DID YOU EAT IT!?"
The ladies flee, the freckled one giving me an apologetic smile. Tears roll over my cheeks.
I've been doing this for a very long time, modelling. Almost as long as I can remember. I've worn the most skimpy clothes and taken on the most stupid poses, I've been on the covers of the most famous magzines and I've met the best designers. I can easily call myself a professional, and still we always and up like this, maman scolding me while I try to hold back my tears.
"Je suis désolée, maman." I manage to choke out, but maman won't listen. She grabs the corset, tying it even tighter. My ribs hurt like hell and I struggle to breathe. I hope the damn thing won't leave any visible bruises, otherwise I will have to wear something high-cut to the school dance tomorrow.
"You are such a disappointment. You are hopeless. Do you know how selfish you are!? You are ruining my dreams. You are so selfish!' She hisses, ignoring my dry coughs, shaking my shoulders.
A man in a black t-shirt walks into the dressing room. "All candidates can go into the studio now, for their modelling pictures." The other candidates kiss their mothers goodbye before walking stiffly out of the door, in a long row, as life-sized dolls. My mother grabs my chin and gives me two air kisses, almost smashing her pointy jaw into my cheek. "You are going to a dietist as soon as we're done with the shoot."
I nod, my eyes watering once again.
"Oui maman."
I walk forward, joining the line of fake,plastic dolls, who are just like me.
My stomach growls.
Alfred
"You really need to lose weight,Alfred" Allison tells me, before walking away, hips swaying a little.
I just stand there, watching my potential date catch up with her friends, giggling loudly.
The school dance is tomorrow, and everybody has a date, even Arthur, everyone except me.
Allison Daniels was one of my last hopes, an average girl with a horrible personality but apparently even Allie doesn't want to dance with Alfie the Fattie.
Not that I expected any different though. I'm just Alfie, the guy who jokes around about his weight, who is great as a friend, but nothing more than that. Or as Arthur kindly described it: "The arrogant fat kid everybody likes."
Apparently a little bit of fat completely ruins my chances of getting a steady relationship.
Well, I'll be honest. It isn't just a little fat. my stomach is so large I look like a giant meatball when I'm running. Yes, I know, It's terrible, but I don't know how it has come this far either. There was just that one time, years ago, while stuff wasn't going well. I've always been a chubby lad and I was, well, I was bullied. Notes in my locker and my head in the toilet. Not exactly the best time of my life.
"Hello Alfred-san"
I turn around to see my friend Kiku smiling at me ,holding one of his strange Japanese comics. I've read one once, and believe me, it wasn't pretty.
"What did the doctor say, yesterday?"
I shrug. "Nothin' special. Doc said I was overweight, 's all."
Kiku gives me a concerned look. "Have you tried dieting?"
I give him an annoyed look. "Can we please talk 'bout somethin' else?"
The last thing I want to do is talk about dieting with Kiku, The pretty Asian dude who is perfectly sized for his height. Yes, I said pretty. Because I'm not only fat, I also 'play for the other team.' Or both teams, actually I don't really know, never had someone to help me find out. Ain't my life perfect.
"Alfred, your health is really important-"
Kiku looks at me, concern visible in his dark eyes. He obviously cares about me. But as a friend or as something more? The school dance is tomorrow. I really can't show up without a date. Should I...?
"Kiku." I interrupt him, kinda rude but hey, this was important stuff,
He stops mid-sentence. "What, Alfred-san?"
"Ya wanna go to the dance with me?"
He stares at me, obviously confused. Please fucking bury me already. Then it clicks. He blushes and fumbles with his comic.
" I'm sorry, Alfred-san. I'm already going with Arthur."
Boom. My last hope is stolen by my sucky friend Artie. Fucking fantastic.
"Hey, Alfred!" A sharp voice suddenly shouts.
We both turn to see that weird albino kid, Gilbert, stumbling towards us, a big box in his hands.
He hands me the box and I open it, only to see at least a quarter of a huge chocolate cake in there, covered in pink icing and tiny yellow birds made out of fondant. "It's my Geburtstag today, but me and my friends aren't hungry anymore. Thought you would like it, fattie!" He slurs.
Ouch. That hurt. Like a lot. Like feeling-your-heart-being-torn-to-pieces-hurt. Gilbert stares at me, swaying on the spot, obviously under influence. What, does he expect I'm going to thank him or something? Fucking Germans and their alcohol.
Awkward silence follows, Gilbert staring holes in my head.
Kiku seems to think this is a perfect moment to go whine some more about my health.
"Alfred, concerning your-"
No. That's it. I'm done.
"Sorry Kiku, Gilbert. Gotta go. See ya around!"
I walk away before they can get a clear look at my face.
"Enjoy your cake!" Gilbert clearly thinks he's funny,, and I just want to sink into the ground. Bury myself into the earth, to never be found ever again.
As I walk out of the building, I throw one last look over my shoulder. Arthur's approached Kiku, a red rose in his hand. I look at the cake in my hands. Time to go home, and drown my sadness in icing. Maybe order some pizza too. I should just accept that I will never be more than what I am now, I will always be just that one fat, funny friend. Time to go home.
My stomach growls.
Francis' mother is a b!tch, holy shit. This is the first time I actually hate someone I've written.
So yeah, Model!Francis and Overweight!Alfred. Yeah I've got no idea where this came from!
Translations: (Not in order)
Mon fils: my son.
Trés bien: Very good. (If confused: Franny's mom is being sarcastic here.)
Garcon: Boy.
Je suis désolée: I'm sorry.
S'il vous plait: Please (Polite form)
Bébé: Baby
Maman: Mama or mum/mom.
Geburtstag (German): Birthday.
Thanks for reading :D
