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I will be chasing a starlight
Until the end of my life
I don't know if it's worth it anymore

He seriously couldn't wait to get out of there.

Really, it was getting frustrating to say the least; commitments, commitments and bloody commitments again. This is what his life had become: some unsatisfying routine he couldn't deal with anymore.

And whoever says fame is amazing, is a damn psychopath, by the way.

"Finn, you okay?" His manager Ryan asked, as he was checking his phone.

The star looked at himself in the mirror.
A stylist — name unknown — was vaporizing some hairspray to his curls, in order to let those shiny, ebony locks stay in their position and ready to be the second main protagonist of the photoshoot for the new Saint Laurent FW Campaign.

Since Finn had been selected for his looks back in his teenage years, Anthony Vaccarello, stylist of the French Haute Cotoure brand, simply didn't let him go, or better, he couldn't let him go.

The number of views had reached the stars in the universe, each magazine was describing enthusiastically his outfits, and his face was just so... Saint Laurent.

His cheekbones sharp as knives, his "I don't care about the world around me" attitude, his slim body that was getting taller, shaped and mature each day that passed by. Simply perfect.

"There's something wrong with this world, Ryan." Finn stared at himself, shaking his head as the woman was still fixing his hair as if it was some work of art.

"Damn, I just asked you if you were okay." Ryan chuckled, now with arms crossed as he was sit in the sofa behind him.

"Who said that being an actor was the collective dream? Who decided that being famous means dealing with regular daily basis shit they write about you?" Finn questioned, trying so hard to keep it together.

But the night before he didn't sleep. A carousel of thoughts kept spin his mind, and he couldn't help but drown in it. Overthinking about the past and future was one of his personality traits that he was not really proud of.

"Society, I guess." Ryan simply replied.
"And you are being grumpy again. You haven't got your coffee this morning, have you?"

Caffeine always worked to relax his nerves; and even if he didn't fully appreciated it, it had become an habit in order to carry on with his crazy schedule. After all the movies and campaigns he had shot, now he was a coffee addicted.
But that day, neither that liquide magic seemed to work to cure his repugnance for the planet.

Finn Wolfhard was just damn tired.

And being a workaholic was starting to get frustrating; no matter how hard he tried to take a break, his body commended him to work and push himself over the edge.

Hospitals were like a second home, by now. Last time he had fainted was in a bar with his friends; the next time, in his car leading him to an interview; in his bathroom; in his house back in Canada.

"I don't want my coffee. I want to finish this goddamn shit." His words couldn't be more bitter and uncaring.

The hairstylist twitched her brows, not believing for a second that such a pretty face could hide so much bitter poison in his mouth.
Also, whoever worked with him always told his spectacular, professional and well-behaved boy he was!

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