Chapter Fourteen of “Fractured Heart: the Tale of the Pop Star and the Pauper” is now available to read at patreon.com/fracturedheart (“SFW” version) and patreon.com/fracturedheartAO (“as intended” adult only version)!
You can also read chapters 1 – 8 totally for free at the patreon links above!
Following that monumental late night phone call where Theo started to feel the faint glimmerings of possibility that Lysander might want to be more than just friends, he’s waiting outside of LACMA to reconnect with the singer and find out in person how Lysander truly feels about him, once and for all. Is Theo correct in his tentative assumptions that the world-famous pop star DOES want to be in a romantic relationship with him? Or does the celebrity just want to be “friends with benefits” with him?
Read on to find out!
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[First Page of Chapter Preview]
After several more minutes of waiting for an updated ETA from Lysander, Theo determined that the bus stop bench wasn’t particularly comfortable. So he made his way back to the outside of the museum to plop onto the same cement wall as before, his legs pulled up to sit cross-legged while he hunched over his phone like all the other youths there his age or younger. But he was tired of looking at his phone, and too antsy besides; though his feet were faintly sore after spending hours walking around in platform boots—should have worn sneakers, he realized belatedly, even if it would have ruined the look—he rose back to his feet and did another slow tour of the area, doing his best not to glance sideways constantly as if Lysander might appear around any corner.
Night had fully fallen, soft lamplight illuminating the curving cement paths scattered with stragglers admiring the outside installations since the museum itself had closed half an hour ago, by the time he finally got word from Lysander that the singer had arrived.
I’m here. Where are you?
Back to proper grammar, then. Theo glanced up—the closest landmark within sight was the art installation composed of rows of cast-iron lampposts that he’d first arrived at, now providing the only illumination for the immediate area; a bastion of warm yellow light in the midst of the mist-saturated gloom. ‘Urban Lights’, he texted back.
The installation was a famous landmark, featured in countless movies and photo shoots; Lysander himself might have already done a fashion shoot or two there in the past. Finding a corner lamp to lean against, Theo rested with his back to it, folded his arms across his chest for warmth, and waited.
At last, he saw a familiar tall figure approaching from the other side of the installation wearing a black mask, but instead of his customary plain white hoodie, the singer had on a black one swirled with streaks of gold that shone under the light like trails of pixie dust. Theo’s heart stopped then burst into a thunderous staccato, and it was all he could do to remain patiently by the corner, waiting for the celebrity to approach him one loping stride at a time.
Lysander stopped right next to him, hands in the front pockets of his jacket, and Theo looked up at him, feeling suddenly too anxious to smile. The singer’s eyes were tired, but he pulled his mask down for a few moments to bathe Theo in a bright grin. “Hi.”
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