our kostas tsimikas

“BEEEEZZZZZZIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!” The bellowing shout echoed through the partially empty gym, as the person tightened their grip around her and had now begun to swing her in their arms. 

“Kostas!” Fran let out a shriek, followed by a small giggle, caught off guard by his actions. Though not entirely, he had a track record of either scaring her or picking her up every chance he got. Which was always. “Put me down!” The blonde instructed halfheartedly, trying to act seriously, though given the giggle she let after she spoke, maybe she wasn’t being that serious. 

Kostas tutted disappointedly but did as the blonde said, placing her back down on the ground but not before landing a sloppy kiss on the side of her face, making a loud kissing sound. “Mwah!” He smirked, seeing Fran roll her eyes at his theatrics. “How are we?”

“Are we scouse now?” Fran raised an eyebrow at the Greek's attempt to speak in a scouse accent. It was pretty good actually. 

“Greek scouse!” Kostas announced and shrugged his shoulders cockily.

Fran couldn't help but let a little giggle out at the way he puffed out his cheek proudly at his claim. “You’ve been spending too much time with Curtis… and Trent.” She gave a disapproving glance to the Greek international as she placed her clipboard down on the bench beside them.

Kostas had his overconfident smirk plastered across his face in agreement before his expression turned more serious. “Okay but I’m serious, how you are, I have not uh… saw you in days.” 

Oh, he wanted a serious answer, Fran worriedly thought, not wanting to give him one. But he was her “bezzie” and she felt that she owed him that much, but the more she thought about how she really was, she began feeling the almost too familiar pang of hurt filling her up again. The blonde bit down on her bottom lip to control another outburst from occurring but it all got too much.

Before Kostas even had a chance to react to the worrisome expression Fran was harbouring, he felt the full force of her body against his, her arms wrapping around him and head buried into his chest. “Whoa… Frannie…” He said breathlessly, and confused, taken back by her reaction to his simple question.

He knew that this was not a normal hug like the many they had shared before, it wasn’t a friendly hug, a hug to say hello or goodbye, it was a hug full of hurt and pain. It was a hug that was looking, wanting, needing comfort and Kostas wasn’t going to deny his best friend that. He wrapped his own arms around Fran’s small frame, bringing her in closer, feeling her bury her head deeper into his chest as if she was trying to disappear into it, and that’s when he heard the small, almost inaudible cry of pain from the blonde in his arms.

He felt his chest tighten, not knowing what was wrong but knowing that she was hurting, and that hurt him too. No one makes my best friend upset, he thought, closing his eyes and resting his head on top of hers, giving it a gentle kiss. It broke his heart to see her this way, she rarely ever shed a tear, so to have her crying uncontrollably into him, worried the Greek greatly.

Feeling his own sorrow begin to well in empathy with the crying blonde in his arms, Kostas reluctantly pulled away ever so slightly to capture a sight of her face, to finally see what had reduced his best friend to such tears. “Frannie, what is wrong? What happened?” He gently whispered.

Composing herself just enough, Fran pulled away from the comfort of Kostas’ chest and glanced up at those anxious brown eyes, that stared down at her with so much concern. 

“Lorenzo… he-he…” She stopped herself short, feeling the lump in her throat grow and her composure waver. She didn’t want to say that dreaded word, she didn’t even want to think it, too pained to mention the C-word by name, she opted for a different phrase, one that hurt her to say just as much. “He broke up with me… or I broke up with him… we’ve broken up, anyway.”

“What?” Kostas frowned with confusion. He didn’t understand, the last time he had seen Fran and Lorenzo, they seemed happy, they seemed in love. The Greek pulled away to arm's length, his brow furrowing further in bewilderment. “But the time before? When we were together all, you two looked happy-”

Fran’s little chuckle cut Kostas’ confused rambling off. He watched her as she looked away, the tears beginning to well in her eyes once again as she uttered: “Not when he's in bed with… someone else.” Fran stopped short of saying who it was, not wanting to speak the name of the person who had ruined her life or her affiliation with that person.

The revelation that Fran delivered took a few seconds to sink for the Greek but as soon as it did, he felt the anger rise in him seeing the pain it had caused his best friend. His fists balled at his side, nostrils flaring as he began to yell. “That Malaka… I will kill him-”

“Kossy.” Fran stopped him short from outbursting any further, with a pleading grab to his shoulder and use of his nickname from her. She didn’t want to cause a scene or grab the attention of any other people that were holding sessions in the gym. Kostas was the only that knew about what had happened and at the moment, Fran wanted to keep it that way. 

Her pleading eyes staring up at him made Kostas realise this was not the time or the place to start getting angry or upset, and no matter how much he wanted to get in his car and go to Lorenzo’s to give him a good seeing too, he knew that he couldn’t because he didn’t want to hurt her more than she was probably already hurting. 

Closing his eyes, Kostas took a deep breath and slightly nodded his head. His hand came to cover the one on his shoulder comfortingly, expressing to Fran that he’d calmed down - enough. Upon opening his eyes, however, the Greek still had words to say, although this time he expressed them quietly. “I always say he was a Malaka though, you know this.” 

Fran could only laugh at inadvertent “I told you so” and, no matter how much it pained her to admit; he was right. “You did.” She pulled her hand away from the Greek, finding herself staring out at the pitches outside. “I just thought he loved me the way I love him…” The blonde felt those tears coming back but she was determined not to let this all ruin her day and before she could receive another sympathetic hug from her best friend, she cleared her throat. “Can we just get on with the session now please?”

She rolled her eyes, that was the last thing she needed, a conversation. She didn’t want to be rude, but she’d rather everyone who was happy in life had their mouths sewn shut so that she wouldn’t have to hear about their perfect little lives. Still, she had an obligation to be polite, at least for now.

“Morning.” Fran quipped quietly but sharply, her mood deciding her tone. She moved forward a few steps on the tiled flooring, her shoes, damp with rain, squeaked with every step she took, alerting Amelia to the mess she was.

The receptionist glanced up from her computer screen and was met with a wet, depressed-looking woman, with dark circles under her eyes and dampened hair. She had to blink twice to make sure she was looking at the same Fran she knew. “Well, you look like you’ve had better mornings.” Fran just grunted and walked past the desk. She wasn’t in the mood to converse more than that, enough was enough.  

Fran didn’t say anything else to anyone else she passed on the way to her office, in fact, she didn’t even bother to look up at any passers-by. She didn’t want to speak, just get on with her job, get home, drink a full bottle of wine and cry herself to sleep. Was that too much to ask?

Finally, after an unwanted pilgrimage, Fran arrived at the door to her office and breathed a sigh of relief, a sigh that soon turned to frustration when her key card would not let her enter. Come on, Fran growled frustrated, slamming her card against the scanner. However, every time she did, a continuous beep would ring out telling her that her access was denied. How can it be denied?!, she fumed, it’s MY office! She tried wiping her card dry, maybe it was the fact it had gotten wet that was stopping it from working, but again, it flashed red, beeping continuously. ACCESS DENIED. 

In the end, Fran thought about kicking the door in, however just as that thought crossed her mind, the door swung open, but not because her key card worked. Instead, Fran was greeted with the white grin of her colleague, Jordan staring back at her.

“Goodmorning Francesca!” Jordan beamed happily. Too happily. 

“Is it?” She mumbled frustratingly, thinking that any answer was better than nothing. 

Jordan’s eyebrow raised ever so slightly at the salty mood Francesca had seemed to have brought with her this morning. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” She snapped unintentionally, a pang of guilt filling her as soon as she did. Jordan is a nice guy Francesca, don't take your mood out on him, the blonde reminded herself, quickly changing the subject away from her mood, kind of. “Looking forward to spending the next two hours in torrential rain.” She quipped sarcastically.

Fran set her now wet bag down at her desk with a thud, not caring if they soaked the papers that were strewn across her desk, evidence that her usual tidy self had been absent these past couple of days. She didn’t care enough to organise them, too many more important things clouded her mind.

Jordan raised an eyebrow at the blonde as she slumped down in her office chair, looking exhausted. It didn’t take a genius to work out that she was in a mood and a big one. But why, Jordan wasn’t about to pry, no matter how good of friends they were. 

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, more by force than choice, until Jordan’s impatience got the better of him. “I’ll go out today.” He announced with a slap to his thighs. 

Fran glanced over at Jordan, who sat in his own chair, although given how tall he was, he just looked like a toddler who’d outgrown their high chair. She was piqued by his words and tilted her head. “Are you sure?” She questioned with squinted eyes, knowing that he wasn’t one to pass on the opportunity to take an S&C session. 

Jordan waved her scepticisms away. “Ah I don’t mind, I like training in the rain… there’s something refreshing about it.” Though Fran’s face did not believe him, he hated the rain, she mused curiously. 

“I don’t know…” She sighed, though she knew exactly what she wanted to do, and it involved a bottle of wine. But the blonde didn’t have that luxury of phoning in sick to work to nurse her broken heart, she worked in the sports industry, meaning that even if you were on your death bed, you’d turn up for work.

The only excuse that worked these days was COVID, and even then you have to provide evidence. 

“Come on Fran, I can see your-” I’m what? She thought with a silent raise of her eyebrow, making Jordan rethink his words. “Look whatever you’re feeling, you look in no mood to be standing in the rain for the next two hours, so we’ll just swap.” Fran stared at Jordan, that was true, she wasn’t in the mood to stand out in the pouring rain for the next two hours but, why was he being so nice to me? 

It wasn’t as if Jordan was a horrible guy, he was lovely, but Fran just couldn’t comprehend why, after everything that had happened in the last few days, anyone could be so lovely and genuine towards her. “Jordan I don’t want you to feel l-” Before Fran could finish her latest veto, Jordan suddenly stood up, clipboard in hand, catching the blonde off guard.

“Maybe if you look at whose scheduled in, you might change your mind.” Jordan interrupted the blonde, handing over a clipboard of the names of those who were in for sessions today, knowing one name in particular, which would cheer her up if it was only a little bit. 

At this point, Fran was ready to give in and accept the swap anyway, sick of arguing with everyone around her, even if she was instigating some of it. But when the blonde read one name ⅓ of the way down the list, a little flutter of a smile appeared on her sorrowed expression, and she knew then she couldn’t say no to Jordan’s offer.