wasteland, baby.

A small cough from the end of the aisle tore Frankie’s attention away from shelving the books and instead he turned to look at the person standing there. He heaved himself up off of the ground with a sigh and walked over.

“Do you need something?”

Did you know that FRANCISCO “FRANKIE” SAINZ has called Bluebell home for ONE YEAR? It’s hard to believe that the THIRTY EIGHT year old CIS MALE looks so much like OSCAR ISAAC. Word around town is that HE is RESENTFUL and DISORGANIZED but I think they are HUMBLE and INSIGHTFUL. Last I heard, they were working as a LIBRARIAN.

“So that’s your thing, Sainz? Losing everything. First your keys, now your wallet. What’s next, your head?” Sofia taunted the man as he approached, clearly annoyed– not with him per say but with the fact she had to reunited with something else she held dear as a child. “You don’t know what to do with them?!” The female repeated in disbelief– alright, now she was annoyed. “You could bake a pie, make a cherry brandy, a smoothie… Literally anything,” she stared at him for a moment longer before looking away. “Do you have a basket I can use?”

“Yeah, sure. Everyone’s got to have a thing, right?” Frankie shrugged. He knew his disorganization was a trait he’d gotten from his father, the man had never been tidy a day in his life and while he wasn’t quite as bad, it was a habit he couldn’t quite kick. "I’m surprised you think I can bake.” The annoyance was written across her face, as so often it seemed to be when he was around but there was little Frankie could do about that. He scratched his scruffy cheek as he thought for a moment before nodding in response to her final question and dipping back inside his home to search for the basket he’d been left upon arrival.

The cherry tasted sweet on her lips and for a brief moment it captured all of Sofia’s attention before the male voice made her snap out of it, “No, I was not. I’m here because I’m doing you a favor, yet again.” A smirk. “You left this last night,” Sofia slowly turned to face the voice and tossed the wallet at him, expecting him to catch it. “Did you do it on purpose, Sainz? Leave it in my car so you’d get another chance to see me. You could’ve just dropped by the Rammer Jammer,” His second question, however, didn’t sound half bad, not like she would admit it. “Well, someone has to pick it. You have a beautiful orchard here, back in the day kids loved to play in it, all day long. So on their behalf I say: You should take better care of it,”

“Damn, you caught me out.” Relief was tangible in Frankie’s voice as he caught his wallet from the air, thankful he hadn’t lost it forever like he seemed to have done with his car keys. While not intentional, he was thankful to see Sofia since she’d now managed to rid him of the anxiety his forgetfulness seemed to thrive in. 

He slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans and finished coming down the porch steps, making his way towards Sofia, with his eyes up at the tree. “You’re right, I should.” There was no sarcasm or snark behind his tone, Frankie knew he was being neglectful, that he should appreciate what he had more considering he lived in apartments his whole life with not even an an ounce of greenery. “You can take some more, if you want. I don’t really know what to do with them.”

closed starter for: @frcnkiesainz​

Alright, let’s get this over with– went through Sofia’s head as she hopped up the porch steps with a leather wallet in hand– the one Frank’d left in her car the night before. “Come on, Francisco Everett Sainz, open up!“ The actress banged on the front door impatiently but no response came so she huffed out. “Unbelievable…” The female muttered under breath and her gaze drifted away to the old cherry three. And in the next moment, she found herself under the crown of the tree, sweet scent of the ripe fruit ready to be picked surrounding her. “Of course he doesn’t take good care of you, the man has zero interests.” Sofia remarked bitterly– and to herself, before the little thief in her made her reach up to pluck a delicious-looking cherry. 

Frankie never had visitors, he hadn’t intended that to be his life but he had an tendency to not be the most forthcoming of people. He wasn’t rude, not dismissive even but he lacked a sort of passion that made people want to spend more than their required time with him. He’d been sat upstairs, rummaging through his desk in a wild attempt to find his wallet. While he knew fully well that it was not there, that he’d had it the night before and had probably lost it along with his car keys, the attempt of searching made him feel a little better. However, the banging at his front door and the distance calling out of his name did the exact opposite, he froze, immediately thinking back to the night before and what he could have said to bring Sofia all the way back to his house.

“So... you were just in the neighborhood?” He said slowly once he’d made his way downstairs and opened the front door, letting it hang open behind him as he stepped out onto the porch. “Or did you just want to do some fruit picking?”

All it took was one glance at his phone to know where his place was and Sofia hated it, knowing the small town like the back of her hand. Every street, every corner, every farm and every yard she had associated with a memory, good or bad. “As if letting you know would’ve made any difference,” she remarked casually, pulling into his driveway. “There you go,” her gaze met his. “Good night, don’t let an alligator eat you, I suppose– wait, isn’t this…? Yes, it is. Where are Mitchell and Peach? Don’t they live here, the elderly couple? I used to steal cherries from them all the time.”

Frankie stared blankly at Sofia and allowed her to go on her tirade, he was actually enjoying it a little for whatever masochistic reason. Once she was finished, he merely narrowed his eyes at her. “I can’t tell if you’re making a joke right now or not.” He shook his head as he picked up his bag from between his feet. “So, good night, thanks for the ride.” Were the last words he uttered with a hint of a smile before he was climbing out of her car.

It’s not all that bad. Oh, how she wanted to smack him for the lack of energy in his answer alone. “You’re right, it’s not that bad, it’s– Worse, it’s nothing. But sure, you keep telling yourself this is all you’ve wanted,” Yes, for some reason it was hard for Sofia to accept someone, anyone would choose to make Bluebell home but what bugged her in goddamn Sainz’s case was his obvious indifference towards… Life, in general. He wasn’t happy in Bluebell (honestly, who was?). “Clearly you’re not. Your goal is to fall off the radar altogether, isn’t it. Ugh, you should’ve just sung for me.“ The inevitable silence followed but it did help the female realize she had no idea where she was heading. “Where do you live, anyway? –Please go ahead and describe it in the most tedious way possible, I couldn’t possibly handle any more excitement from you.”

Frankie turned to look at Sofia, the street lamps passing by illuminating her profile. To say he was happy in Bluebell would be an overstatement but would he be happy anywhere? If he returned back home? In the variety of options, this was the lesser of the evils and he didn’t feel as though that needed more of an explanation than what he’d already gave. The tension didn’t bother him, in fact, he almost liked how easy it was to push her buttons with so little effort, with quite only being himself. “Well, gosh, you should have let me known earlier it was excitement you were looking for.” He replied dryly, turning his gaze back outside the window before giving her his address.

His response earned him an eye-roll. “Everyone fears to be original and creative nowadays and let their imagination run wild… Cowards, all of you!” Sofia spat, accusing the man, unjustly so, as she was clearly projecting but oh well, she didn’t seem to care much as she tore her gaze away to focus on the road ahead. “I suppose you don’t mind slumming, not in the slightest. In fact, you seem to be content with it.” Sofia clearly referred to his attitude in general. The two of them were practically strangers but she’d seen the man around the town once or twice and each time he reminded her of a ghost– no joy on his face, no anger, nothing. “Yes, my reputation is what we’re worried about, I’m glad we’re on the same page here.” The actress gave him a look but there was a ghost of a smirk on her lips, the kind that quickly vanished in the dark.

“It’s not all that bad.” Frankie gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders, it was a mild attempt at defending himself but he couldn’t really deny the reality of Sofia’s accusation. He did live his life with a lack of vigor but that was exactly why he’d chosen to linger in Bluebell, he wanted peace and solitude and for the most part he got exactly that. Feeling strong things had only let him down, he liked a softer kind of everything now and he doubted any sort of explanation of that would do him justice. “I mean, I’m not worrying about my reputation― don’t have to.” He wasn’t fond of the possibility of getting kicked out of the car, so he limited what he said; his point still stood.

“I may be full of surprises.” Sofia gave the man a meaningful glance. The truth was, she wasn’t. Or, if she was full of surprises, one of them wasn’t her being a secret fan of folk music. “Maybe I’m just bored? Open to new experiences? Maybe I want something different in return? Gas money is so basic. Maybe I fear the awkward silence– the inevitable result of you and me in a car together.” Maybe it was all of the above, especially the last one since Sofia was well aware of many differences between Mr. Sainz and herself. Nonetheless, she even opened the passenger door for him before walking around the shiny car to the driver’s seat. “The press would have a field day if they found out I left someone for dead and we don’t want that, so.” Sofia remarked with the tiniest of smirks, barely visible in the dark as she slipped into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, sure but unfortunately for us...” Frankie gestured to the empty space around him before pulling a face of mock disappointment before continuing on, “I haven’t got my guitar, so we might have to slum it with some silence.” He knew full well that Sofia was doing him a favour, one she technically didn’t have to do even despite his claims about the cold but all he really wanted at that moment was the solitude of his apartment. “Ah, yes. The press, that’s who we’re worried about in that scenario.” Frankie couldn’t help but smile as he climbed into her car, clearly much nicer than his own. 

Having locked up, Sofia took one final look at Rammer Jammer and damn, if it wasn’t strange, seeing the usually vibrant, loved and popular among locals bar calm. Snapping out of it, after such a long and exhausting day, the brunette had no other choice. really. but to slip out of her high heels and go barefoot– old habits died hard. Fearless by nature, she didn’t flinch when a shadow approached her. Instead, she heard Frankie out, arching an eyebrow. “You know, I’m actually tempted to say no, misery looks very good on you.” Sofia commented with a ghost of smirk on her lips. “If I said yes but only in exchange for a Papa Sainz song, would you serenade me?” All her teasing aside, she made her way to her luxurious car, the one most would envy her for, expecting the man to follow.

“Never would have took you for much of a folk lover.” Frankie replied dryly as he followed after her, shrugging his bag back onto his shoulder. Truthfully, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sang for someone, yet alone one of his father’s songs and while he knew (hoped, at least) that Sofia was merely toying with him, he would much rather walk than dive down that troublesome path. “You can say no if you want, maybe you’ll catch me on the news tomorrow when I inevitably freeze to death.”