Chapter 8 – A Choice

"Well are you going to just stand there staring at me through the glass or are you going to open the door?" Christina frowned as she stood with her arms crossed across her chest and weight thrown on one leg.

Tino dropped the netting and threw the door open,

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, stepping out onto the front porch and letting the door close to behind him. The tiles of the small balcony area outside the front of the apartment were cold on his bare feet, and he hopped from one foot to the other. "How do you know where I live?"

"I got your address from Michelle. Well, she didn't willingly give it to me; I bribed her with letting her choose a dress from the Closet from one of the designer shoots." Christina said with a slight shrug and a smirk across her lips.

Tino, unsure of what to say or do, stood there rubbing his elbows in an attempt to keep them warm in the biting, wintery air. He had been at ICON a few measly weeks, yet here was Christina checking up on him after he flounced out yesterday. Wait, she was here out of concern for him, right? Surely this wouldn't be an 'I told you so' moment, or 'serves you right for talking to your boss like that.' What if she tried to convince him to come back to ICON?

"Why are you here?" he asked, his tone almost defensive.

Just as Christina rolled her eyes and started to answer, Leon appeared at the top of the balcony steps stopping her in her tracks. He took a swig from his can of Pepsi as he stared between Tino and Christina.

"Uh, Hey Tino, is Emil ready to go?"

Tino sighed heavily and stepped past Christina, opening the front door with such force that it slammed against the wall behind it.

"Emil! Leon's here!" he yelled down the hall, then turned to Christina and nodded towards the inside of the house.

"We've just brewed some coffee. Go in and sit down and I'll be with you in a minute. Jeez, you've picked a great morning for this." Tino mumbled the last part under his breath as Christina brushed past him, the scent of her perfume quickly filling the small entranceway. As she entered the kitchen, Lars snapped his head up from where he was still sat at the table and looked her up and down. Tino rarely got stressed or frustrated, but this morning seemed to be the longest morning ever, filled with one thing after another.

Emil's bedroom door opened and he hurried out, not even so much as glancing in the direction of the kitchen in an attempt to avoid his Dad, and made a beeline for the coat rack by the front door. He grabbed his satchel and shoved his arms into his coat sleeves, and his shoes were barely on his feet as he stepped outside. Tino was still stood just outside of the front door, flustered enough now to not even feel the cold. He and Emil exchanged a quick goodbye, and then he waited for him to leave and be out of sight down the steps.

In that moment, Tino was envious of Emil still being in school. Sure, he was nearly 18 and in his final year, but quite frankly Tino would happily leave the adult world behind right now for a classroom lecture where having a seat by the window and being on the same lunch slot as your friends were your only real concerns. Shaking his head, he made his way back inside and closed the door behind him.

Two refills of coffee and a piece of toast later, Christina and Tino were sat on the couch in the living room. Lars had hastily excused himself upon the arrival of Christina and left the apartment to go for a walk and stretch his legs. Confirming Tino's suspicions, Christina had come to both scold Tino for the way he had acted but to also convince him to give it another shot.

She spoke passionately about ICON and explained to Tino that after being there long enough to see through the bullshit, it's not a bad place to be to get where he wanted to go after he explained about his dream to become an editor. Tino watched her as she talked. She oozed confidence, but after some of the things that she had said to him back at their desks that day he knew that hadn't always been the case. Christina was, in essence, a shining example of what you could become at ICON. She was warm and friendly, but at the same time didn't give a shit what anyone thought about her.

Tino's heart sank in spite of himself when he thought about how wrapped up in looking the part he'd become after hearing what Francis thought about him. How could he have let someone bother him so much? At the end of the day it was Ludwig who hired him, not Francis. Mr Beilschmidt knew that Tino would deter Francis from flirting with his assistant, but he also didn't mean it to be an insult to Tino, not really. It was meant to steer Francis and Ludwig's company at the same time in the right direction. If Tino gave up now, Francis would get what he wanted.

Brushing toast crumps from his lap; Tino shifted in his seat on the couch and put his finger on his chin in thought.

"So… if I was to give this another shot," he began, and Christina's face lit up, "On a scale of 1 to 10 how awkward would it be to go back now?"

She laughed and set her empty mug down on the windowsill behind the couch. "I mean, I would say between 5 and 6, but who cares right? We'll walk in together."

Tino smiled from ear to ear suddenly full of confidence. Christina reminded him the popular girls when he was at school that made you feel like you were somebody if you got invited to their pool party, but without the cattiness.

"I don't know who you are and how you just talked some sense into him, but thanks." said Lukas, the cool monotone of his voice unmistakable, as he came into the living room and sat down in the armchair opposite the couch.

Seeming somewhat shocked at seeing Lukas, Christina leaned across to where he was sitting and extended a hand.

"Oh, I'm Christina, Tino's work colleague. I didn't realise, um, I didn't know you had a…" she trailed off, gaze flickering between Lukas and Tino. Suddenly, the penny dropped as Lukas quickly reached forward and took hold of her hand, shaking it gently.

"Ah, no. We're not-" he began, his face turning pink while staring at Tino for help.

"No! I- He's not my boyfriend, Lukas is just my friend. My best friend, actually!" Tino interjected. "We just live together. Well, this is his house, and so is the bookshop underneath. I just live here too."

Christina let go of Lukas's hand and smoothed her skirt.

"I see, sorry I shouldn't have assumed." She smiled sheepishly at Tino, then reached for her mug and stood up.

"Well, thanks for the coffee! I'd better be off. Tino, please think about what I said. Now, where should I put this mug?"

Lukas leapt up from the armchair, "I'll take it. Your mug, I mean." He said, "And Tino will get his shoes and coat on and go to work with you, won't you Tino?"

He glanced over his shoulder at Tino, who looked rather like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"What?" he squeaked while wringing his hands; his eyes as wide as saucers.

Lukas sauntered into the kitchen and dropped Christina's mug into the soapy water in the sink. Noticing the other mugs from that morning were starting to pile up, Lukas continued speaking with his back turned as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Why of course, I can't drive you 'cause I need to wait for my Dad to come back. Christina, I'm guessing you drove here?"

"Yup! I'm parked out front!" she said triumphantly, while taking her keys out of her coat pocket and jangling them in her hand noisily.

"C'mon little Fin, to ICON we go!"

"I want to die." Tino sighed as he stood in front of the familiar office block. He looked up as it towered above him and watched the window cleaners working about 15 floors up, their rickety wooden station held together just about by the ropes hanging over the top, swaying in the wind.

"I'm not even dressed for a day at the office." He pouted as he pulled at his lilac jumper and stuck a skinny jean clad leg out in front of him in Christina's direction as if to prove it. She didn't reply and simply put a hand on his shoulder and started walking, steering him in the direction of the revolving doors before pushing him into the slow cycle.

The concierge tipped her hat Tino and Christina as they stepped out of the doors and into the marble reception area of the publications and called for the elevator. Once inside the elevator and it had hummed into motion taking them up to the 35th floor did Christina finally speak.

"Now, we'll head to our desks and wait for Francis to call you into his office," She said as she checked her teeth for any traces of red lipstick in the mirrored walls. "He'll make you wait though probably 'cause he's like that and his ego is as big as he thinks his dick is – not that I've seen his dick." She added the last part quickly, glancing at Tino stood behind her through the mirror.

Tino let out a small laugh as Christina caught his eye, and the elevator chimed and came to a halt when they had reached their floor. Tino sucked in a deep breath as the doors slid open. Several other people who were waiting to get into the elevator parted as Tino and Christina stepped out. Thankfully Tino didn't recognise anyone, but one man nodded to Christina in acknowledgement and she mumbled a 'good morning' in return.

As they walked through the offices, Tino's nerves began to grow in the pit of his stomach. He tried to imagine how his meeting with Francis would go in his head and play out the scenario. Would he just fire him anyway, or be angry that Tino had dared to come back? Had he already found a replacement? And how did Christina know that Francis would be waiting for him? Surely he would have more important things to do than wait to see if his assistant would turn up.

Mentally, he braced himself for confrontation, but when he turned the corner and saw Francis through the glass of his office at the end of the long corridor sat at his desk with his chin resting in his chin gazing out of the window with a concentrated look on his face, his nerves suddenly disintegrated. Usually he would be lounging in his chair while arguing with Mr Kirkland, chatting to some models, or even occasionally actually doing some paperwork and mock ups of the magazine; but this morning Francis was alone.

Michelle and Matthew were stood by the front desk, gossiping in hushed voices, but once they saw Christina and Tino they stopped and made their way over. Matthew smiled warmly at Tino and Michelle gave a small nod to Christina, who then grinned rather proudly from ear to ear.

"Welcome back, hun." Michelle said while poking Tino playfully in the arm. "You're quite the topic of conversation this morning! Now I see why Mr Beilschmidt chose you over me for this role, I could never put Francis in his place like that!"

Tino looked around at his peers who surrounded him, and all were smiling and praising him as if he'd just done something heroic.

"You can bow down to him later people, we've got shit to do. Tak very much!" Christina bounced away off towards to their desks and Tino kept close behind. Seeing Matthew and Michelle had made him feel slightly better about this whole situation as they seemed to be pleased that someone had confronted Francis about his behaviour, but he also couldn't help but feel uneasy that he was being praised for being rude and speaking out of turn. Sure, Francis deserved it in some way, but Tino had never been this person. People at ICON were catty and vicious like this however, or at least the majority, and Tino was one of them now.

The editor in chief stood up from his desk when he saw Tino and Christina approaching and opened the door to his office. His blonde hair was swept back from his face, yet free from its usual silk ribbon and hanging loose around his shoulders. Tino couldn't help but notice the lack of 'pizazz' today that usually emanated from Francis as he held open the door, looking at Tino with an almost timid regard.

"Good Morning Tino, please come in." he said, then looked past Tino for a moment to Christina who had begun to set out her work for her day on the desk, "and thank you, Christina."

Hesitantly, Tino followed Francis into his office and closed the door gently behind him, completely unable to read the room to try to anticipate how this was going to go. He took a seat in the high backed chair on the opposing side to Francis at his desk when he motioned for him to do so. He felt himself trembling a little and hoped that it wasn't noticeable.

"I want to start off by apologising to you." Francis began, surprising Tino a little with his words, but he didn't seem to notice and continued while keeping his gaze on anything but Tino's face.

"What I did to you at the Arlovskaya shoot was rotten and callous, and while I won't pretend that I can't believe that I would stoop that low, I will say that I never want to do that again, or anything of the sort. I hope that you can forgive me."

While Francis rose again for his chair and walked over to the window, Tino's heart was hammering inside his chest, and he ran a finger around the neck of his jumper to loosen it a little. A small silence grew in the room as Francis paused in thought and watched the passing traffic way down below.

"I feel that what you said to me had been coming for a long time," he said at last, "and I didn't realise how much I needed to hear it. I've been thinking since we last spoke yesterday, and I have always wanted success and to be the best at everything and I thought that the way to get there was to act how everyone would expect me to act. But it turns out I kept attracting the wrong people who continued to lead me down that path and made me believe what I was doing was right until Ludwig threw a curveball at me - and the curveball is you, Tino."

He put his hands in the pockets of his silk trousers and turned to face Tino, looking him directly in the eye. Tino leaned forward a little in his seat and gave Francis his full attention, not wanting to blurt anything out until he was sure his boss was completely finished, but also couldn't stop the bubbles of happiness from welling up in his chest from the way that this conversation was heading. He almost felt weirdly proud of Francis in this moment of self-analysis.

"I've realised that you are what ICON has been missing this whole time. Someone who respects – or should I say once respected - me for the fact that I am the editor in chief of a magazine and a businessman, and not for the fact that I have more money than sense and good looks."

As he carried on talking, Tino saw for the first time in the weeks that he had been acquainted with him who Francis really was. He was a man who thought that living and breathing as a stereotype was the way to keep his head above water in a new role that he had clearly wanted for a long time. Tino thought about how just the other day he changed his looked and googled how to dress to impress, and suddenly didn't feel much different to Francis. He had let himself be consumed by what he thought other people expected of him, when really he was just fine the way he was. It was clear that the fashion industry claimed many victims on different levels, but for the same overall reason.

Tears threatened to fall at this realisation as he cleared his throat to stop Francis from talking away and tried not to let the lump in his throat make his voice come out strained.

"I'm sorry that it took me to call you out in such a public way for you to realise that all you need to be is yourself. I still do respect you Francis, and I guess even more so after what you've just said, even if you do still think I'm a fat brace face." Tino said with a slightly awkward laugh, which made Francis's mouth gape open and his face turn bright red as he stuttered an apology, now obviously aware that Tino had heard him say that. Tino waved a hand at him in dismissal before continuing.

"I do think that you've tainted your image at ICON, but this is something that you can work to change if you really want to."

Francis paused for a while, studying Tino's face. Then he spoke and his voice almost sounded pleading.

"Will you help me?"

Tino's kind hearted nature made him want to jump up from his chair and hug Francis, but he controlled himself and simply nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. He wasn't sure how exactly he was going to help Francis, as his bosses image was a little more than tainted, and Tino didn't have the best confidence and self-esteem in the world himself, but he believed in himself enough and knew that he wanted to at least try. In a world where imperfections were being scrutinised constantly under a microscope Tino would embrace his own in the best way that he could despite this. It wasn't worth risking his friendships, his own mental wellbeing, and his personality to even think about changing just to be 'liked' by people whose opinions he hadn't really cared about in the past.

Francis's face relaxed, and his eyes creased a little as a genuine smile appeared. "To show that I'm serious, in true Bonnefoy fashion, let's turn over a new leaf," He declared as he tore himself away from the window and fumbled around behind his desk for a moment. When he stood back up straight again Tino couldn't help but beam.

"or rather a new petal." Francis concluded as he flourished a beautiful bunch of pale yellow roses at Tino.

"Mr Bonnefoy, I don't know what to say-" said Tino as he gingerly took the bunch of roses from Francis, their sweet scent suddenly filling the office.

"There is nothing to say, other than I hope that we can forgive each other. Can we be a team?"

Tino wasn't the one to hold grudges, or at least for very long. In that moment, he had made amends with a man that he had judged just as harshly as said man judged him, while calling that man his boss in his dream career.

He shook his head almost in disbelief and also in spite of the pair of them and laughed.

"Oui, Francis. We're a team."

Lukas flicked the switch on the wall and the bookshop slowly blinked to life for the day, one flickering fluorescent strip light at a time. It was much later than he would usually open up, but of course today hadn't been a usual day.

Lars had returned back to the apartment about an hour after Tino and Emil had left with bacon, eggs and bread rolls for Lukas and himself. At first it had been hard for Lukas to be sat around a breakfast table with his dad, as when he was a teen the mornings were always the worst until Lars had cracked open his first can of beer. Then he continued until Lukas had to put him to bed. He couldn't get used to the fact that he didn't have to shrink under his father's gaze anymore or protect Emil from his vicious tongue, and that this was his house and his dad had to obey by his own rules.

This morning the beer had been replaced with coffee and orange juice, and quickly Lukas began to see that Lars was actually trying. He hadn't dared to ask how long his dad had been sober no matter how curious he was, but when Lars began to ask about Lukas and his life he quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind and tried to get used to being a son again.

"Wow, Lukie, this is really something." Lars breathed as he stepped into the bookshop after Lukas.

Despite it being late February and bitterly cold outside, the winter sunshine was bright and it streamed in through the great bay windows at the front of the shop. In this light, the shop did look good. The shelves were well stocked and stood proudly from floor to ceiling, and the displays were neat, tidy and well placed. Lukas didn't mention or even hint to the fact that the shop was somewhat failing, and instead wanted so desperately to receive gratification and praise from his father, and to cling onto what little of his pride he had as a shopkeeper was left.

He turned the cash register on, set the radio playing and then flipped the dog-eared sign on the front door to 'open' as he unlocked the door.

"Fiction is over here," Lukas said, patting the wooden shelf to his right, "and it's the biggest section. I have everything from children's fiction to crime novels to, of course, fantasy. Then over to the left and next to the counter is non-fiction, and finally on the back wall we have references – maps, dictionaries, language guides, that sort of thing."

He finished with a small smile as he let his eyes wander over the store for a moment before he looked over at Lars. He ran his finger across the thick spines of the hardback atlas's as he looked around at the rest of the shop.

"Who's this?" he said as he picked up a copy of a book with a woman on the cover from a display table in the centre.

"That's Lucille Marcon, she's a best seller and one of my favourites. She writes some really interesting novels about trolls and fair folk like nothing I've read before. She's this month's spotlight author to celebrate her new book." Lukas rambled, losing the attention of Lars a little.

"So you're still into all that faery crap then?" he said with a chortle, putting the book back down. When Lukas didn't reply, Lars cleared his throat.

"Is there anything I can do to help while I'm here then?"

Lukas scratched his head, not wanting to give his dad too much to do that he stuck around in the shop with him all the time he was here, but also not wanting to push him away when he just wanted to spend time with him.

"I guess you can grab the sticker gun from the drawer under the cash register and help me with some pricing, but once customers start coming in I need to be available for them, okay?" Lukas said and chewed on his bottom lip.

The next few weeks were going to be hard to adjust to, but even Emil's sake more than anything Lukas knew he needed to grit his teeth and just get on with it. His dad was responsible for a lot of emotional pain, but now that he was here in his house trying to make amends, he had to at least give it a shot. The past was in the past, and right now he had a bookshop to run and a family to feed.

A:N – yellow roses symbolise friendship. Thanks for reading!