formula1direction
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Frank turned to face her again — and for the first time in their ten years, he looked at Mel as though he didn't know the person standing in front of him.
Her breath caught, lips clamped shut as if she'd already said too much and nothing at all, all of it years too late.
"Why would you tell me this now?" he asked, disbelief sharpening his voice. "Why would you even think I wanted to know that?"
Mel's mouth opened and closed around nothing, her grip on her racquet going slack. "I just... I wanted you to know."
Frank’s expression hardened as he stepped toward the door. “After this game,” he said, not looking back, “we’re done.”
* * *
In which Mel and Frank climb the ranks of mixed doubles tennis, and life gets in the way.
Bookmarked by formula1direction
08 Jul 2026
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Some nights were, naturally, worse than others.
Nights where Frank laid in bed for so long, staring at the ceiling, that it made his heart start to race with anxiety and his back ache and ache and ache no matter how he positioned himself. Nights where his thoughts spiraled out into worst-case-scenarios that seemed so vivid and inevitable that he would have to get up and go to the bathroom, just to turn the light on and look at himself in the mirror to remember what was actually real.
Those were the nights when he wanted the pills again the most: alone in his guest bedroom, trying to wring sleep out of his body like the last few drops of water out of a dirty dishcloth.
He tried not to call Mel on nights like that. He did not always succeed.
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Bookmarked by formula1direction
08 Jul 2026
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"Is this what you want?" Mel asked, eyes searching his face so urgently he could barely track them.
Frank sighed, stretching out his neck and closing his eyes. "It's what she wants—"
"You, Frank," Mel interrupted. "I don't care about Abby. What do you want?"
He wet his lips, rubbing them together as he watched her sit with a hand on the door, ready to leave the car at any given moment. Then, he nodded. "Yeah," he said simply. "I want this."
She shook her head, gathering her bag from by her feet and pushing the door open. "Then have it," she said, forcing herself out. "Just don't expect me to watch."
* * *
In which Mel and Frank orient Hollywood — and each other.
Bookmarked by formula1direction
08 Jul 2026
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“—and I know that there’s Becca and Tanner and Millie to consider, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to move in? Together? With me?”
Mel blinks. He certainly doesn’t look like he’s having a stroke.
“Frank, why would we move in together?”
“I thought it might be nice,” he shrugs here, acting nonchalant even though Mel can see the tension in his jaw. “To take that next step in our relationship.”
“Frank, what are you talking about? We’re not in a relationship?”
At this, Frank’s frown deepens before widening into a frustrated half smile. “Uh, yes we are? We’ve been dating for nine months?”
What.
Or, Frank thinks Mel doesn’t do physical touch.
Or, Mel doesn’t realize they’ve been dating for nine months.- Language:
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Bookmarked by formula1direction
08 Jul 2026
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“I’m jealous.” It escapes before she can let herself back out, “That my sister has a sex life, and I don’t.”
She doesn’t know why she’s admitting that to him. She honestly doesn’t. It’s embarrassing.
“Right there with you.” His voice is low, “How long–?”
She chews at the bottom of her lip, doing the mental math, “Three years…You?”
“Thirteen months.”
Warmth pools in between her legs, and she clutches his hand like it’s a lifeline.
It’s barely a whisper, she’s so afraid to say it,
“Close the trunk.”
---
“Wait, holy shit, King–” The wand stills inside of her as Trinity freezes the frame.
“What?” She asks, “God, it didn’t nick something, did it? I’m not about to bleed to death?”
“No, but you might pass out.” Trinity answers, “Maybe?”
“What is it?” She tries to sit up, but Trinity’s already turning the ultrasound monitor around to show her.
Her heart stills as she takes in the tiny flickering heartbeat on the screen in front of her, “Oh–”
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Bookmarked by formula1direction
02 Jul 2026