CHAPTER FOUR. ❦︎

"Are you actually sorry, or are you just saying
that to get me off your back?"

"Flirting with and hitting on fans??? In your COMMENT SECTION?" Valeria scolded, eyeing down Franco as he was sat down in front of her in his hotel room. She had been instructed to find him immediately and berate him for his online behavior.

Franco, lounging lazily in the chair with one ankle propped over his knee, barely flinched at her sharp tone. Instead, he smirked, looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Well, technically, they were hitting on me first," He drawled, his accent adding an extra layer of insufferable charm. "I was just being polite."

"Polite?!" Valeria's voice pitched higher, her frustration evident. "You called one of them corazon and told another you'd love to take them out for drinks the next time you see them. That's not 'polite,' Franco. That's reckless."

Franco leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "What's the big deal? They're fans. A little flirtation keeps them engaged."

Valeria's jaw dropped, and she threw up her hands in disbelief. "Are you listening to yourself? Flirting with fans on your public account isn't just unprofessional—it's a PR disaster waiting to happen. Do you have any idea how bad this could look if someone twists it the wrong way? Or worse, if one of them decides to take it too seriously?"

"OR. What if one is fifteen years old! For crying out loud." Valeria paced back and forth.

Franco flinched slightly at that last point, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "Come on, Valeria, I'm not stupid. I know how to read people. I wouldn't flirt with a teenager."

Valeria stopped mid-pace and turned to him, her expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "That's not the point. You can't know. All it takes is one mistake, one person screenshotting the wrong thing, and suddenly you're in the middle of a scandal you can't get out of.

Franco shrugged, completely unfazed. "I think you're overreacting. It's harmless. They know I'm just having fun."

"Having fun?" Valeria snapped, stepping closer and jabbing a finger toward his chest. "You're not some anonymous guy on a dating app, Franco. You're a professional athlete with sponsors and a team that relies on you. Every word you say, every comment you post—it reflects on all of us. Do you ever think about that?"

For the first time, Franco's smirk faltered slightly, though he quickly covered it up with a roll of his eyes. "You're being dramatic. Nobody's getting hurt."

Valeria exhaled sharply, pacing the length of the room as she tried to compose herself. She was too frustrated to sit, too wound up to stand still. "My god, you never listen," She said, her voice steadier but no less pointed.

"This is not about who is getting hurt or not. This is about professionalism. It's about showing respect to the people who've invested in your career—who've taken risks on you."

She stopped pacing and turned to face him again. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to clean up after you? Every time you do something stupid, I'm the one who gets the calls. I'm the one who has to calm Irene or Samuel down, or reassure the sponsors, or spin your antics into something halfway acceptable. And it's exhausting,. I'm exhausted."

Franco's smirk faded completely now, replaced by something softer. He straightened in his chair, watching her with a flicker of guilt in his eyes. "Vale..."

But Valeria held up a hand, cutting him off. "No. Don't 'Vale' me right now. You don't get to charm your way out of this—and only my best friends call me that, stop calling me that."

For a moment, the room fell silent, the tension between them thick and heavy. Franco shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his messy hair. "Okay," he said finally, his voice quieter than before. "I get it. I'm sorry."

Valeria raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Are you actually sorry, or are you just saying that to get me off your back?"

Franco flinched but didn't look away. "I mean it. I get it. I messed up. I'm sorry. I'll be better next time, I swear."

Valeria narrowed her eyes, arms still tightly crossed. "And what does 'better' look like to you? Because your version of 'better' seems to last about a week before you find some new way to create a fucking mess."

Franco sighed at the sharpness of her words, but his gaze stayed steady. "Okay." He swallowed. "Maybe I've screwed up more than I should've. But it's not like I'm doing it on purpose."

"Not on purpose?" Valeria let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Franco, you're a grown man. You don't get to hide behind 'I didn't mean to' when your actions have consequences for other people. This isn't just about you."

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I know it's not. I just... I don't know, Vale—Valeria," He quickly corrected at her sharp glare. "I'm not used to this whole... image management thing. F2 was way different. And I'm no PR specialist."

"And that's exactly why you should listen to the people who are PR specialists," She shot back. "You have an entire team—You have me—who are busting their asses to make sure you stay in the good graces of your sponsors, the media, and your fans. But you treat it like it's some kind of game."

Franco's jaw tightened, his usual easygoing demeanor slipping further. "I don't think it's a game," He said, his tone defensive.

"Really? Because you sure act like it," Valeria said, stepping closer, her frustration flaring again. "Do you have any idea how much damage control I had to do after the last time you thought it'd be 'harmless fun' to post something without thinking?"

"I never asked you to do that," Franco said, his voice low.

Valeria froze, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't ask you to clean up after me," He repeated, though his tone lacked its usual confidence. "I mean, I appreciate it, but maybe I should've dealt with it myself. Maybe if I had to face the consequences for once, I'd... I don't know. Get it through my thick skull."

For a moment, Valeria just stared at him, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Then she exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Do you even hear yourself? That's not how this works. You don't get to pretend that facing 'consequences' is some noble thing when all it does is hurt everyone who's tied to you. Your team. Your sponsors. Me."

Her voice slightly lowered, though her frustration was still evident. "I'm not cleaning up after you because I enjoy it, or because I think you can't handle it. I do it because this is my job. And because, like it or not, you're part of something bigger than just yourself. You don't get to throw that away because you're too proud to let someone help you."

Franco's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of her words clearly sinking in. "I didn't mean it like that," He said quietly.

Valeria grimaced. "Then what do you mean."

"I don't know." He sighed, one of his hands running through his hair in frustration. He looked at her then, his usual cocky smirk nowhere in sight.

"I'll just... promise to do better next time," He said, and this time, it sounded like he actually meant it.

"You'd better," Valeria replied, her tone still sharp but less cutting now. "Because I'm not going to keep bailing you out forever. Sooner or later, you're going to have to prove that you can handle yourself.

Franco nodded, his gaze steady. "I will. I promise."

Valeria held his gaze for a moment longer, then sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm gonna pray you can actually keep that promise for once." She finished, the room falling into silence.

As she thought that was the last of his scolding for the night m, she turned to leave again, but Franco called out one last time, "Hey, Valeria?"

She paused, glancing back at him with an exasperated look. "What now?"

He gave her a small, lopsided smile. "Thank you for looking out for me. Even when I don't deserve it."

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head with a faint sigh. "It's my job." She breathed out.

"But don't make me regret it, Franco."

With that, she finally walked out, leaving Franco alone in the quiet hotel room. For once, he looked like he was actually taking her words to heart. Maybe, just maybe, he'd finally learn his lesson. Or at least try.

What else could possibly happen?

vera's voice 💌 ( 1.5k words )
not proofread i fear
just , peachy. perfect. Awesome !!!
didn't fw thjs bc idk if this is early.
idk is this early. for like this type of.
idk. ignore me. i'm a slow burner and
this is killing me bc wdym. Okay Bys.

idk what i'm doing. I'm Just confused.
helo belle and elena tho. ayyyeeeeeee
love vee.