Fear not, I haven't given up on Scars nor have I abandoned it. I have every intention on completing this story. It's one of my favorites, and it's almost over so. . . I've been avoiding that. I don't want it to end just yet.
My apologies. I also have been unable to write for a lot of my stories because of my job and my work, and Scars has unfortunately suffered because of that.
Thank you all so much for being so patient with me. I hope that by the end of the summer, Scars of a Façade will be finished and I can turn my attention to Teach Me and perhaps another project (no, not Creature of the Nightlight).
Without further ado, I bring you the 30th installment of this fan fiction.
The next couple concerts were in Chicago, and everyone found themselves in a sort of automatic work mode. Ever since they left Wisconsin, there was an air of sadness, as though the death of Elsa's father was weighing them all down, joining the lead singer in her seemingly endless state of grief.
Elsa still sang her heart out and her band played without missing a beat, and Anna, Kristoff, and Sven worked the backstage world without batting an eye. They even stopped renting out hotel rooms and stuck to sleeping in the bus after shows. Kai was the one who had actually put a stop to it, claiming they'll have nice rooms in New York.
The drive down to Louisville was quiet. Everyone but Elsa sat in the front room, though their attention wasn't focused on each other. The television was blaring the news, but it was only Sven who was paying attention.
Elsa stepped out of her bedroom a few minutes later, pocketing her phone.
"Hey, I just got a call," she told the room, everyone looking her way.
"Congratulations," Sitron said. "Shall we throw a party?"
"It's about my father's will," Elsa snapped, glaring at him. He shut up and ducked his head. "I'm to meet with his lawyer in New York when we get there… The guy just called me and let me know." She sighed and sat down next to Anna on the couch. "I don't know if I can last that long, though."
"What do you mean?" Olaf asked.
"I felt so empty in Chicago. I felt like… like… like all I've worked for is for nothing."
"Elsa, that's not true," Sitron spoke up, guilty for making the sarcastic remark earlier. "We've come so far, and your old man was—is so proud of you."
"I did a lot of this for him," Elsa said quietly, running her hand through her hair. "And now he's gone."
The rest of the group exchanged looks. Anna shook her head and took Elsa's gloved hand in her own. Her other hand reached for Elsa's cheek and turned the punk's head gently to look into the deep pools of icy blue.
"Elsa, I get it, it sucks so much and I know you're still hurting. But you shouldn't be doing this for him anymore. It's absolutely okay for you to take inspiration from him, but you and the boys have made it this far because you had a dream. You believed in yourselves, and now look at you guys! You're almost done with your first tour!" Anna smiled big. "Look at how far you've come. You are going to go even further."
"Yeah, Els," Olaf beamed. "You believed in our talents and you got us together."
"We couldn't have gotten this far without you," Marshmallow said.
"Without me?" Elsa chuckled darkly.
"Yes, you. You're so important to all of us. And we're gonna kick ass in Louisville," Olaf said defiantly.
"Then we have Cleveland and Philadelphia and then New York!" added Sitron. "We're almost done! Then we can go home and you can relax all you want."
"We have to drop these three weirdos off first," Elsa nodded toward her crew. "Then we'll be heading back to Wisconsin."
"Wait a second, Sven and I can fly back home," Kristoff assured them. "Pabbie is gonna handle it."
"Yeah, so don't worry about us," Sven grinned.
"Well, then we have to drive Anna back out to Arendelle," Sitron said.
Anna's face fell. "I can't believe we're almost done…"
"Hey, don't worry about it. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Elsa whispered, kissing Anna's forehead.
"Okay, but we have to keep worrying about you," Anna said, glaring up at Elsa, though not unkindly. There was a sparkle of determination in her eyes, firmly believing in her girlfriend. "If we're almost done, then you have to buck up and get ready for the grand finale. I don't think your dad would want you moping."
"Yeah! He'd want you to kick ass!" Olaf cheered.
"And you're gonna kick ass!" Sitron added. "We all are. We're gonna show the world that Dry Ice is the best fucking band it has ever seen!"
"Our first tour is almost up and we've been doing great. Sure, we've had some hiccups but, hey, we wouldn't be here if it weren't for our amazing crew," Marshmallow reminded his bandmates, smiling at the three crew members in turn.
"Or, more specifically, Anna," Elsa said. "Before Kristoff and Sven showed up, it was just this little dork."
"I'm really glad I've managed to make an impact on this group of supposed punk rockers," Anna laughed.
"We're punk!" Olaf pouted.
"Riiiiight." Anna rolled her eyes. "So, Elsa, are you willing to hang in there until the tour ends?"
Elsa nodded. "You're right. We've got a few shows left. I should be able to make it." She took in a deep breath and got to her feet. "It still hurts."
"The pain is gonna be there," Anna said. "But that's why we're here. To help you through it. We're your family and we love you."
Elsa looked back at the band as they all gazed up at her. Her heart suddenly overflowed with a wave of emotion and gratitude toward this ragtag team of individuals. While Elsa was the reason Dry Ice even existed, the fact that they're where they were was because of how hard each and every one of them worked. After all Elsa had been through, she was eternally grateful to have a family like them.
A family.
Her last family consisted of Olaf and his parent's hospitality. But there was still something missing. Even while being cared for, she still felt as though she was imposing, and it ended up getting Olaf's family in trouble.
These guys—these ridiculous, frustrating, supportive guys—were the ones who actually made her feel like she belonged.
"I love you, too." Elsa found herself tearing up again. "All of you."
"Awh, Elsa is crying," Sitron teased lightly, getting up and hugging the lead singer. "What a softie."
"I'm going to sock you in your gut," Elsa growled, sniffling.
He slipped away, jogging back to his seat. "Noted. Right, sorry."
Elsa choked on a laugh and rubbed her eye. "Now, I gotta write a couple more songs. I'll talk to you guys in a bit."
They watched her head back into the main bedroom, the door shutting behind her.
"I think we broke Elsa," Kristoff chuckled.
"She's experienced more human emotion since she met Anna to now than when we knew her," Sitron smirked. "I think her walls have just crumbled down more and more thanks to the kid."
"Ah, there's still some punk left in her," Anna said, waving off the comment. "She's just having a rough time. She'll be back to her snide, sarcastic self in no time. You just watch. Come next week, you guys will be bickering and practicing and all that fun stuff. Trust me."
Kristoff gave Anna a list of things to do before the last concert in Louisville. Due to a last minute change, a new band would be opening for Dry Ice rather than the one they've have for the past two nights. Therefore, Anna had to make sure the equipment for Dry Ice was in the right place and the cues would be carried out in time for them to get on stage after their opening act.
Which, Anna noticed, was not that popular. Rage, as they called themselves, were relatively new, and their amp sponsor was not the same one for Dry Ice so that irked Kristoff and Sven to the point they refused to discuss who the sponsor was.
She didn't care, though. Anna just wanted to finish her many duties and then take a break in the bus. Last night, for the first time in a while, she slept in her old bedroom. For some reason, she just felt that Elsa needed more space. While Elsa didn't protest and said that she was fine with whatever Anna decided, Anna had trouble sleeping. She missed pressing against Elsa's body when the AC blasted too harshly on her. She wanted to reach over and drape her arm across Elsa's waist.
Another part of Anna did it because she realized that once the tour is over, she would return to sleeping on her own. Elsa would never want to move to Arendelle. She'd want to be closer to her friends and stay in her home state. Sleeping alone last night was practice.
Anna wondered if she and Elsa would even stay together once she was back in Arendelle.
Choking up, she moved along the checklist, making a note that she had to grab more Arrowhead water for Elsa lest the punk threw a tantrum. Just as she was about to head down the hall, she bumped into someone, sending her clipboard clattering to the floor.
"Oh, sorry!" Anna gasped. "So sorry. I'm such a klutz and I wasn't watching where I was going." She bent down and picked up her clipboard. "Honestly, I am—"
"Still the same," said a smooth, almost mocking voice. "You haven't changed a bit, have you, Anna?"
The hairs on Anna's neck stood up as she straightened. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. But for some twisted, nightmarish reason, she found herself staring into the tan, lightly freckled, sideburned, green eyed face of her ex-boyfriend.
"Hans." Anna couldn't decide if she wanted to be afraid, outraged, confused, or all three. He wore a black collared shirt and dark, worn out jeans. In spite of Anna hating him, she knew that he could really clean himself up when he wanted to. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm the amp sponsor for the opening band," he said, his eyes locked on hers. "What are you doing here? I didn't realize they let in pathetic mountain girls like you backstage."
"I didn't realize they let cheating liars in but here you are," Anna spat back.
Hans' calm disposition flickered and Anna proudly smirked.
"I don't know who you think you are, but—" he began.
"I'm your replacement," Anna said as she folded her arms across her chest. Ooh, she was going to let this douche-canoe have it.
Hans blinked, skimming her outfit and noted that this was not the Anna he left back in Arendelle. She carried herself differently, as well, as if someone shot her with a heavy dose of confidence.
"My replacement," he repeated slowly, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Is that so? What do you do? Fetch the water for the narcissistic Snow Queen?"
"I bet that's more than you ever did."
He scoffed. "Oh, please. I have years of experience compared to you. You're the sorriest excuse for a replacement that I've ever seen." He squared his shoulders and glared down at her. "What on earth do you have against me?"
"She gets up off her ass and does work, that's what," Elsa's voice snapped, the blonde casually walking down the hall to meet them. "Hello, Hans. Why the fuck are you here?"
"If you haven't noticed, Elsa, the amp sponsor for your opening act is my family's."
"Unfortunate for them," Elsa deadpanned.
"A business partner got us involved, you see."
"Then why isn't one of you competent brothers here to represent them instead of your ugly mug?"
"Ah, Elsa, you're just as charming as I remember you." Hans smiled thinly, ignoring her question and fearlessly meeting her cold eyes.
"It hasn't been that long, Hans."
"However long it has been, I can see that you're still an immature brat. Tell me this: why have you hired the inexperienced nineteen-year-old?"
"I have a name," Anna said indignantly.
"I hired her because she intrigued me," Elsa said simply, enjoying Hans' incredulous expression. "She's helped not just me but the rest of the band. She has gained a lot of experience from working with us."
Hans rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised your shows have lasted this long. Anna is such a klutz that she breaks practically everything she touches. How has your giant glass chandelier remained intact, let alone your simple equipment?"
"We happen to have other stagehands that help us whenever we come into town. We also hired another great roadie and a reliable techie."
"What, from your amp sponsor? Again, how have you lasted this long?"
"Hans, you think you're so fucking special, but the reality is, you were the worst roadie I have ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with. I'm still disgusted that I dated you."
Anna suddenly got an idea, grinning mischievously as she wraps an arm around Elsa's waist. Hans furrowed his brows at them, Elsa automatically draping her arm over Anna's shoulders without even thinking.
"I'm glad I helped you out with that, too," Anna said silkily.
Elsa chuckled. "I guess you did."
"What?" Hans growled.
"Oh, haven't you heard? Elsa and I are dating," Anna smirked at him. "Looks like your two exes are banging, Westerguard. I guess you're notorious for turning girls gay."
Not true, Anna reminded herself, but watching Hans' ego crash to the ground was the most satisfying thing she had seen in a long time.
"Not to mention you cheated on us with each other," Elsa added. "But hey, we have you to thank for that, too. If I didn't dump you and if Anna never found out, maybe we'd still be dating your sorry ass."
Hans was starting to shake, his jaw set, and his face a dark shade of puce. Anna couldn't tell if it was jealousy or disgust, but she didn't really care. Whatever it was, seeing Elsa and Anna hanging on each other was pissing him off and she loved it.
"Elsa, you're going to regret ever firing me," Hans growled at the blonde. "You've already humiliated me in front of my father by doing such and Anna has done the same after—"
"I punched you square in your jaw," Anna finished.
"I will see you crash and burn," he said lowly, glaring at Elsa.
"What are you gonna do? Bitch and moan on forums and play the victim?" Elsa mocked, rolling her eyes. "Right, Hans. I'm so scared."
"You should be. You can only be on the top for so long." He leaned in her face and snarled, "You just need a tiny push to come crumbling down."
"Bite me," Elsa whispered sassily.
Hans' forehead clouded over as he stared down at Elsa, then Anna. He straightened and stormed away. Elsa smirked, unraveling herself from Anna and smoothing out her jacket.
"I'm going to alert the opening act that their sponsor is a prick." Elsa pecked Anna's cheek. "See you in a bit, baby."
Anna watched her walk away, glad to see the Elsa she knew back and as sassy as ever, even if it was just for a brief moment. The ginger looked down her checklist before going on to do her next task. The show that night had Anna back in the audience, so she had a lot to get done backstage so Kristoff could run it smoothly without her help. The stagehands simply did not know how Elsa liked her shows to be, so Anna and Kristoff really had to hustle and bark out orders. Sven was busy on the catwalks and in the sound booth, running rehearsals and making sure the show would have all of the appropriate cues.
Behind the scenes, the three sole members of the Dry Ice crew ran the show like puppet masters. And while Hans was right to say that Anna was inexperienced, she had learned so much over her time spent with the band.
It didn't go unnoticed by Elsa, though. She watched Anna run across the stage, through the theatre, and around backstage, noting her handiwork. During a break, Elsa sat on a large amp when she caught Anna directing several stagehands on stage left. Olaf was tuning his guitar a few feet from Elsa.
"What do you think of Anna?" Elsa said, the redhead out of earshot.
"What do you mean?" Olaf blinked. "You're asking me this now after how many months we've spent getting to know her? Not to mention, she's your girlfriend."
"No, I mean… as a roadie."
"Oh. I dunno." He shrugged and set down his guitar onto the stand nearby. "She's pretty good considering. Why?"
"She wants to be a teacher, right?"
"Elsa, what the fuck are you trying to say? Aren't you supposed to know all this about her anyway?"
"I'm just thinking," Elsa mumbled.
"You're being vague."
Elsa pursed her lips and glanced over at him. "I guess."
"What the fuck is Hans Assface Westerguard doing here!?" yelled Sitron as he stormed on stage. "I just saw him back there with some chick from our opening act!"
"He's the amp sponsor for them," Elsa said dryly.
"Then why is he here when we're sponsored by Bjorgman's company?" Sitron snarled.
"Dude, I don't even want to deal with it right now," Elsa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb. "I'm still emotionally exhausted from everything. Anna and I kind of dealt with him, but otherwise, I want to focus on the show and then get the flaming fuck out of here and never see his sideburned face ever again for as long as I live."
"Right, well…" Sitron crossed his arms. "Still, it's shitty to see him. I want him as far away from us as possible."
"I'll get Oaken to guard you if you want" Olaf teased.
Sitron glared at him. "Shut up."
Elsa blocked them out as she focused on Anna, who was approaching the stage. She was talking with another techie, indicating where certain cues will be in the show. Sven is behind them, adding information into the conversation.
If someone saw Anna right now, they wouldn't be able to tell that she was a student at her local community college a couple of months ago. She carried herself with an air of professionalism, and Elsa admired her for it.
She knew she had to call Kai to tell him what she was thinking about, but it was worth the effort.
And it possibly would secure Anna's future.
Elsa's phone woke her up the following morning, the bus swaying on the the highway as it carried Dry Ice and its crew to Cleveland, Ohio. Anna groaned and covered her head with her pillow as Elsa blindly searched for her phone in the tangle of sheets that pinned the pair of them to the bed.
"What?" Elsa growled, finally picking up the annoying piece of technology, too sleepy to see who was calling.
"Elsa, are you watching the news?" Kai's frantic voice said, making Elsa's brain wake up a little more.
"No." Elsa sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I just woke up."
"Well, turn it on. Now."
"What channel?" Elsa had to hoist herself out of bed—making Anna grumble and complain some more—her eyes now searching for the remote somewhere on the desk.
"It doesn't matter. It's everywhere."
Elsa finally found the remote, turning on the television in her bedroom. Elsa sat at the edge of the bed, Anna slowly sitting up herself to see what was going on. The punk flipped through the channels until she landed on the news, her face plastered everywhere on the screen. The breaking news announced the following:
THE SECRET BEHIND DRY ICE LEAD SINGER ELSA'S GLOVES REVEALED
Elsa stared at the screen, her stomach dropping. Anna's vision had cleared enough to see what was on and her brow furrowed.
"What the hell are they talking about?" Anna said, sitting beside her girlfriend.
"No. That's impossible," Elsa croaked.
"Apparently it's not," Kai said. "Someone spilled your secret and has been slandering your good name."
"I—"
"The lead singer of popular band, Dry Ice, has been keeping a big secret from her fans," the anchorman said with his phony smile and hair smothered with hairspray. "Ever since the name Elsa got big, everyone has been questioning the meaning behind the mysterious gloves she and her band members wear. At first believed to be a fashion statement, in an interview from last year, they seemed like something more."
They cut to a clip of that very interview, Elsa sitting with some journalist and toying with the leather covering her hands. The differences between Elsa then and Elsa now weren't easy to pick out, but Anna noted the lack of her "Let It Go" tattoo on her arm. This was probably before the song got to be what it was now.
"If it's hot in here," the journalist was suggesting with a light chuckle, "you should take those off."
"Oh, no, I never take these off in public." Elsa had laughed, shaking her head.
"Is it a part of the punk image?"
"Something like that."
The clip ended and the news anchor returned on screen. "Since then, the gloves became more than a mere 'image'. Elsa has refused to discuss why she doesn't take them off in public, and nobody in her band ever came forward to discuss why, until last night when a radio station's open forum received a call from an anonymous individual who used to work closely with Dry Ice. Let's take a listen."
Elsa vaguely heard Kai on her phone, her eyes glued to the television. The only thing that was keeping her grounded was Anna's hand gripping her own.
"Yeah, uh, so I used to work with Dry Ice and I want to tell you Elsa's image is all bullshit," a voice that sounded very much like Hans' said in the audio clip. "The gloves? It's literally nothing but to hide scars she got from burning herself. She plays it to be this big, special thing, but really she's just ashamed of her stupid mistake."
"So, she's just been hiding scars?" the radio host asked.
"Oh, yeah. No big deal right?"
"It's kind of anticlimactic."
"Exactly. It's all about image and getting fans. She talks a big game. She's not that great and is actually incredibly rude to her crew."
"Really?"
"Absolutely. She thinks she rules us like she's the queen, and she even forces the one female roadie she has now to hook up with her just to fulfill her insatiable sexual desires."
A gasp, "You're kidding!"
"Nope. I have photographic evidence I can send you."
"Please, bro. Anything else about Elsa?"
"Uh, yeah. She might say that being yourself is good, but the real façade is what she is on stage. Elsa is actually fake. The gloves are nothing, she doesn't care about her fans or crew, and has told me she's in it for the money. Don't let these gloves distract you from the fact she's a one-hit wonder."
Anna was shaking with rage when the boys burst in, all of them pajama clad like Elsa and Anna were.
"Are you seeing this!?" Olaf roared.
"Yes," Anna ground out, eyes stinging with hot tears of fury.
"What the fuck does he think he's gonna get from this?" Sitron shouted, his hands curled into fists. "That doesn't even touch upon how Elsa got her scars!"
"It wasn't her fault!" Olaf was yelling at the screen. "It was her grandmother!"
Marshmallow had angry tears rolling down his cheeks, but there was a protective fire in his eyes and Anna was almost afraid of him.
"The anonymous caller also submitted several pictures of a peek backstage of Elsa with the apparent female roadie coming out of a utility closet, both looking like they were doing more than looking for some cords for the show," the anchorman said.
Three pictures came on where Elsa was peeking to see if anyone was looking, pulling Anna out, and then parting ways to head to their next destination.
"We were just making out," Anna said defensively, earning a look from the band. "Don't get mad at us! Hans took the pictures!"
"We're not," Sitron said quickly. "We're sorry… it's his fault, you're right… fuck, I hate him."
Elsa was still in a state of shock, paralyzed to the point that Kai gave up on talking her back to reality and had hung up, hoping to call her after he handled the expected backlash of this wave of gossip that had spilled onto the shores of tabloids. Elsa hadn't noticed. Her hand was still holding her phone to her ear, frozen in place.
Kristoff and Sven, who had no idea what was behind Elsa's gloves, kept glancing down at her naked hands. Hans was claiming they were Elsa's mistake, but Olaf was hollering about Elsa's grandmother. They had no idea what was going on, but they kept their mouths shut. Now was not the time to ask for details.
"So it looks like Elsa is not who she says she is," the anchorman said. "Will she come out and confirm any of this, or will she continue to hide behind the façade her ex-employee claims she has. We will continue to update you when we get more information. For now, we—"
Fed up, Anna had turned off the TV, positively livid.
"Elsa?" Olaf said gently, getting on his knees in front of her. "Elsa, can you hear me?"
"Oh my god, it's everywhere," Sitron said, scrolling through his phone. "Everyone is talking about it. It's trending on Facebook, the fan blogs on Tumblr are a mess, and there's a trending tag on Twitter calling Elsa a womanizer—"
"Sitron, you're not helping!" Anna said sharply.
"Right. Sorry."
"Elsa, listen to my voice," Anna whispers gently. "Come back to Earth. We need to talk about this."
Elsa slowly lowered her phone, her arm growing tired, but she didn't speak. Her mouth refused to work with her brain, her eyes glossy as she stared into nothingness. Her band waited for her to say something, all looking toward their first in command. When a few beats went by without her speaking, eyes fell on Anna.
"What do we do?" Olaf asked her.
"M-Me?" Anna stammered.
"Yeah, you. You usually have an idea of how to fix these things."
"I don't know." Anna's voice was weak. "I thought he was just bitter but… I can't believe he would stoop this low. He's telling lies. I don't know how to stop this. The tabloids will eat it up, and idiots will believe them. We've all seen how these things work."
"What can we do?" Marshmallow whimpered.
"I… I guess just keep going. The real fans won't turn on her," Anna said. "And we can hope that this blows over."
"Are you forgetting that Elsa is a celebrity? People will drop her once one rumor comes out, you said it yourself," Sitron said bitterly. "It happens with every big name, no matter who it is. Elsa is going to go through a shit show."
"But Anna has a point," Kristoff finally spoke up. "Elsa has true fans."
"For how long?" Sven said in a small voice. "Sitron is right, too."
"Hans wants it to seem like Elsa is full of herself," Anna said.
"She can be," Sitron mumbled, earning a smack on the arm from the ginger immediately.
"Stop!" she yelled at him. "Now is not the time to make jokes!"
Sitron blinked and bowed his head, as though he was a peasant bowing to a queen. He silently apologized and focused the rest of his attention to her. Anna forced Elsa to look at her.
"Listen to me," she said. "Listen to me and you do as I say, understand?" All she received was a blank stare. Anna took that as an answer. "Hans is a first-class-asshole. We all know that. Don't worry about his cowardice in hiding behind anonymous like shitheads on Tumblr. He's trying to knock you down but you can't let him. You're already so low after losing your father, and he's trying to ruin you. He can't unless you let him, Elsa."
Elsa blinked slowly, looking into Anna's teal eyes. There was a small sparkle in them, showing Anna that she was listening to her finally.
"Okay," Anna said gently. "Now, you're going to do your show in Cleveland and blow them all away."
"What if they believe him?" Elsa whispered.
"Then they don't deserve to hear you sing."
"How can I bounce back from this?"
"By being you. By showing them that you're still the same you they've always seen."
Nothing but hopelessness filled Elsa's icy eyes. She tore her gaze from Anna and looked down at the pink scars that smothered her palms. Anna covered them with her own hands.
"Hey, we can do this. You can do this," she said.
For the first time, Elsa was bombarded with paparazzi when she was trying to make her way into the theatre in Cleveland. Some random people even yelled at her for being a womanizer and a user. That seemed to impact them more than the gloves. Oaken did his best to shield Elsa from the harassment, but Elsa still heard them. The band fended off eager writers from shitty tabloids, refusing to answer any questions about the explosions of rumors. Even Anna was approached with questions about how it felt to be Elsa's call-girl, everyone recognizing the mane of red hair as she followed after the band with Kristoff and Sven, the three carrying equipment.
Stagehands weren't enthusiastic in helping the band set up that day, eyeing Anna and even asking her if she wanted to hook up since she seemed like a "loose chick who can get down with anyone" according to some guy. He ended up with a missing tooth, and Anna ended up with bloody knuckles.
Kai called again, alerting a drop in ticket sales, claiming that some people have been demanding refunds. Elsa was so heartbroken that she didn't have the will to go on stage, anxiety ridden in a little room backstage that she would be booed off due to rumors about her that weren't true. She cried into Anna's shoulder, Anna rocking her back and forth as the boys took all the equipment back to the bus.
On the trip back to the bus, the crew was taking in the unused equipment, and ignoring the uproar of fans—or ex-fans—booing Elsa and her last minute cancelation as she tried to follow her crew inside. Anna suddenly found herself swarmed violently by paparazzi again. It was worse than coming in, and one of the paparazzi got handsy with the redhead, reaching for her and grabbing her arm tightly. When Anna yelped in pain, Elsa grabbed the photographer by the shoulder and sucker-punched him in the face.
Security flooded over to protect Elsa as the rest of the paparazzi snapped photo after photo of the furious punk, Anna trying to yank Elsa toward the bus. The rest of Dry Ice yelled at the paparazzi to get away from them, but they were all practically blinded by the flashes of the cameras. Finally Oaken hustled them inside, helping Kristoff and Sven take the rest of the equipment back.
Two mornings later, on the road to Philadelphia, in a roadside stop, the band found a few new magazines. The headlines screamed at them: "Elsa Gone Mad" and "Dry Ice Burned Local Photographer" and "Bruises Join Scars Under Gloves". Pictures of Elsa in a rage were plastered on each cover, and one even featured interviews from fans who were quick to turn on Elsa.
Anna, Olaf, Sitron, and Marshmallow bought every single one and burned them a couple of miles away. Back in the bus, Elsa was curled up under her desk, sobbing into her arms. Not only was her name being dragged in the mud, but the person she cared about most was suffering underneath the filthy hand of gossiping journalists.
The witch hunt had begun, the once untouchable Elsa was now at the mercy of the public.
It's been a while since I wrote for Scars, so my style for this story is a tad rusty. For that, I apologize. Hopefully the more I return my attention to this story, the better my writing will be for it. I just wanted to get this out to you because you've waited long enough.
Thanks to those who have stuck around patiently! Love you for it.
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