"So glad you made it, woah, so glad you made it. Won’t you come on, gimme some lovin’ ," Fran Carlston sang into her brush while dancing around the room.
While making a fool outta herself, Fran got a strange feeling all over. Something she hadn’t felt in at least a year, but she recognized it all the same. Using her remote, she turned off her music, put her brush on the dresser and faced the wall.
"You’re back," she said. For some reason she didn’t want to turn around. An empty void that was once there but always gone stood at the door of her room.
"I’ve been gone a year. I haven’t seen you in a long time, please turn around." She closed her eyes and faced the voice, her long blonde hair flipping as she did so.
Fran heard footsteps coming closer. She still kept her eyes closed. "Will you at least look at me?" Reluctantly, Fran opened her eyes, revealing the bluest pair the boy had ever seen.
She saw his hair first, the long blonde hair. Then the lips, the precious lips with such a powerful voice. The cute as a button nose, and the crystalline blue eyes, staring down at her.
Taylor.
"I’m sorry," he whispered. Fran didn’t even hear, she was busy staring at him. He was there, he was really there. Still doubtful, she reached out her hand and touched his arm. The flesh was warm to the touch. It was real; he was real.
Her arm quickly drew back, and she looked up at him. His eyes bore right into hers. "I’m back, Frenchie. I’m here." I haven’t been called Frenchie in a whole year. Taylor’s name for her.
"Oh God," she whispered, then threw her arms around him. He held her in his strong arms. "Can I just hold you forever?" Of course not…
"I would like that, but my job thinks otherwise." She let go of him.
"It’s always your job, Taylor. You’re job kept you away from me for a whole year. I see you on TV and I want to be there! I want to meet all those people that you meet, I want to see what you go through all the time. I want to see what keeps you so busy that you can’t even bother to call me. I mean don’t tell me you forgot the number or some lame excuse like that because you memorized my number before you memorized your own!"
"Do you want to start this off with a fight, Frenchie? I just want to make the most of this before I have to leave again."
"And when is that?"
"Tomorrow at noon." Fran sighed and turned away. It was four in the afternoon then, so all she had was 20 hours, excluding sleeping time. Figures, he never stayed long. Even when he came back a year before, Taylor had to leave within a few hours. He had enough time to say hi, bye and a quick kiss on the cheek in between.
Fran sat down in a chair, facing away from him. Taylor shook his head. "I thought we had something here, Frenchie. I thought we could get through anything. That’s why we’ve been together for so long."
"No, Taylor, we’ve been together for so long because you’re never around long enough for us to break up. Well, I’m finishing it right now." She got up and walked over to him, forcing something into his hand. "A promise is a promise, and you broke it. Take back your ring. It’s not going to be Taylor and Frenchie forever."