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❝ MEN DON’T CRY. ❞

i. the inevitable.

word count 5.1k

warnings FRANKLIN SAINT/OC - explicit language, mentions of strip clubs/drinking/smoking. somehow snowfall plot language but nothing you need to watch the show to understand. probably minor spelling/grammar mistakes but fuck it

authors note hi lol remember when i started this and im just now finally updating the first chapter?? me too!! mind you this is only three parts lol. anyways sorry guys im currently rewriting it and i lost my mojo for this for a while. slow updates while I continue to edit and rewrite the three parts. this first chapter was originally 10k and I split it in half lol rip. anyways enjoy I hope its not too too boring as its just to get you into their vibes! any mistakes pls lmk thank you!

Franklin was tired.

His body was always sore, fingers always cramping with an aching carpal tunnel from repeatedly counting money, and his legs felt weak from the weight he felt he carried on his back.

He was beyond fucking exhausted.

The idea of him, right at this moment, pulling up to the brightly lit up building Leon practically begged him to go to filled him with a rage he couldn’t explain. He should be home— resting, eating, sleeping, counting, measuring— doing anything more productive than sitting in a strip club. Yet here he was succumbing to the peer pressure. Typical.

With a kiss of his teeth, he took the keys out of his ignition and sighed. His body moved almost robotically, getting out, locking his car, and letting the warm California breeze hit his arms. Franklin could hear the music outside, and he didn’t spare a glance at the long line leading into the club before walking up the security guard expectantly.

“Wassup Franklin?” The buff security guard stated, and stepped to the side to let the man through. Franklin nodded in a silent acknowledgment and made his way through the propped open door.

He could smell the liquor as he stared into a sea of dancing bodies surrounding lit up stages with poles reaching the tall ceiling. Some had girls on them, dancing naked or damn near to the roaring beat of a Ginuwine song provocatively.

Franklin barely noticed.

His eyes searched, landing on the familiar Afro moving around excitedly towards the back and next to the DJ booth. He should’ve expected them to be there— all prompted up and centered as if they owned the place. And they did.

If the music wasn’t so loud, he’d be able to hear himself almost groan in annoyance as he shifted through bodies and exhales of cigarette and weed smoke.

“Finally!” Leon saw Franklin before he saw him, and he plastered an almost sadistic looking smile on his face as Leon forcefully grabbed his hand into a one-sided dap. “I was wondering when yo’ ass was gon’ show up!”

“You know I ain’t want to.” Franklin responded loudly in annoyance. Leon didn’t falter, grabbing a cup from the table and shoving it into his hands.

“Ion’ give a fuck, take a shot.”

His words almost slurred, but he wasn’t drunk just yet as the night was still young. And with a roll of his shoulders Franklin downed the shot back and cleaned his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“After today, we need this shit.” Franklin saw him smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

They had killed someone today— maybe more than one person but the details weren’t important. It was draining, feeling as if he was in control of so much yet had to take the ability to breathe from people out to kill him or any member of the family. Today it was the Mexicans, but what would happen tomorrow if they chose to retaliate sooner than expected?

Franklin felt as though his brain never stopped working. The gears never stop turning and the ideas never stop flowing. It was a constant cycle of figuring out how to make more money than yesterday and how to make it until then.

He knew he didn’t want to stop. The heaviness in his pockets could attest to that— and he was okay with living a life of fight or flight when certain luxuries came with it. But in moments like this, moments where he had a second to take a breath and sit down without clutching his waistband, he got to think about just how exhausting it all got.

He hated that Leon got him out tonight, and he wished he had said no like he always does. He never shows up, never seeing the point in spending money at the same place he makes it at. They owned the fucking club, why bother indulging?

But as the liquor began to set and Leon poured Franklin and him up another shot, his brain faltered. He needed a break and if throwing singles at beautiful women as he drank with his right hand man was the way to do it then so be it.

“Club making money?” Franklin asks, eyeing the dark brown liquor in his glass as he circles the cup around a bit and brings it up to his lips. He doesn’t even finish his sentence before Leon is already rolling his eyes.

“We not talking business, we talking bitches.” He emphasizes, and laughs before reaching for the joint behind his ear.

“I’m always taking business.” Franklin finally jokes back, and the cocky smirk on his face tells all as he sits back against the only couch not flooded with women.

Their area is sectioned off, but there were more strippers than members of the family taking up spots on the couches and chairs. He looked around as Leon responded inaudibly in retaliation to his banter. All the closer members to him and Leon were spread out, girls dancing either individually or together on the poles in the center covered in barely any strings.

A quicker paced song played now, and he recognized it to be a Biggie Smalls song. The beat was nasty, loud and enticing everyone around as he watched money fly through the air.

Franklin sits back, manspreading into couch with his cup in his hand with both arms reaching behind to rest against the top of the seating. His eyes scan the section in security— as he usually does as he nods his head to the beat.

Leon is trying to pass him the joint, but Franklin can’t even tell because his eyes finally land on her.

It’s corny to think that seeing someone makes everything around you stop, and this isn’t a movie or a book that Franklin is living in. This is real life. He’s really a serial killer, really a heavy moving drug dealer, and he’s really a wanted fugitive that doesn’t stop and drool at a beautiful woman.

But he does. And he hates it.

He sees her bright pink outfit first, a bright pink fishnet romper that’s more skin than fabric with a matching pink bikini peaking through under. Her hair is big, curling to the side revealing a smiling side profile that he doesn’t recognize. Her brown skin is glittering under the light, and he could swear he sees a glint of light radiate off her. Her frame was thick and full, and when she finally turns to face his direction as she pours someone another drink, he thinks the corny shit from earlier means nothing when he sees someone look so captivating.

He forces his eyes to turn away.

Leon doesn’t notice, and Franklin swallows down his drink with a harsh quickness that makes Leon furrow his eyebrows in his direction.

“I think you need something.” Leon smacks a hand on his shoulder, and Franklin doesn’t hear the false sincerity in his tone.

He also doesn’t see her gaze finally reach his. He isn’t looking at her when she turns to face that direction, but she wishes he was.

Kimberley knew him— well, of him. She knew he was powerful, clearly ridiculously handsome, doesn’t speak unless he feels you’re worthy, and knew he made a ton of fucking money. Franklin Saint: only the luckiest of women got a chance to taste and make it to tomorrow.

She was supposed to be in that section, but a few of the regulars from a club she worked at before showed up for her first day and she had to entertain to make as much money as she could tonight.

She laughed at something she didn’t even hear, her eyes fighting to keep from gazing over at the darkskinned man radiating confidence on the other side of the club.

“Nova!” A voice called out, and she turned around instinctively at the stage name she used.

Behind her was her partner, a smile on her face as she silently greeted the table of hollering men behind them both.

“We need you at the DJ section,” Asia grinned at her, “big money came in and they’re requesting new girls.”

Kimberley nodded and turned, faking a pout as she leaned towards the light skin man staring at her with an eyebrow raised.

“You gonna miss me when I’m gone?” Kimberley flirts, and falsely places her finger between her lips with a frown.

“You better come back Nova.” His voice his loud, and Kimberley smirks at him before turning around and stepping down from the elevated section.

One of the garbage men make their way to collect her singles, and she makes her way back over to Asia as she flips her hair back over to its right side.

“Bitch.” Kimberley says with a deadpan expression into Asia’s ear and they both laugh as they walk away and towards the jumping section they were requested to.

“We gotta be with the big dogs.” Asia rolls her eyes, adjusting the tight tube top in annoyance as they pushed their way through the crowd with false smiles at potential customers.

Kimberley wished she could say she hated dancing, but the weight of the garbage bags she took home sometimes every night for a week made the thought squirm away. She could never hate how good she felt counting her hard earned money. The music was louder so close to the DJ booth, and they arrived at the section as the bouncer removed the red velvet stanchion with a nod.

Franklin was too busy downing another shot with Leon, and he didn’t notice until Leon nudged his shoulder in a drunken mischief.

“Merry Christmas!” Leon laughs arrogantly into Franklin’s ear, and he has to stop himself from shoving him off the couch.

Franklin meets Kimberley’s eyes, and he only takes a second to look before glaring back at the shorter man in annoyance.

“I told you I ain’t throwing no money man.” Franklin warns, but he leans his body back in a drunken trance.

“You don’t got to—” the smirk hasn’t left Leon’s lips, and he slyly nudges Kimberley over towards Franklin’s direction as she began to twirl a curl between her fingers, “I’ll throw enough for boff’us!”

Kimberley isn’t someone who blushes. The heat that hit her cheeks would’ve scared her off if she wasn’t too entranced by the powerful looking man leaning against the couch like he could buy her with a blink.

He wore a black expensive looking collared shirt, black trousers on with pockets that looked as if they were stacked to the brim with something inside, some black and white sneakers, a gold chain, and an expensive looking watch catching underneath the black light.

If you hadn’t had the smell of your own perfume mixed with illegal substances in the air, you were sure you could probably even smell the money on him. Franklin didn’t break eye contact, and he didn’t even bother to hear what Leon was trying to provoke him with as he looked up at her thick frame.

Kimberley decided to not say anything just yet, reaching at the table between them and taking a shot brought over by one of the girls from before. Asia was somewhere— Kimberley could hear her talking but couldn’t see her with how oddly focused she was on Franklin.

Eye contact in a strip club was normal. Men were always peeking at her to garner her attention and feed her singles and sweet nothings. They didn’t affect her though, she had been a dancer forever.

Franklin was different.

She knew they owned the club. The only people allowed in this section had to know how to work a pole or know Franklin Saint himself whether he was there or not. She had heard the rumors, and she had also heard that he doesn’t make appearances so often. But she hadn’t expected to finally see him in the flesh. And she hadn’t expected to see him looking so good while doing so.

Kimberley’s body moved before she could think, taking another one of the shots in her hand and taking a seat next to Franklin as their thighs touched.

He wouldn’t say it, but he didn’t expect her to invade her personal space. He was a cautious man and no one he didn’t allow to get within his vicinity ever did, but she sat herself down beside him and he almost thanked her for letting him get a whiff of her strong and sweet perfume.

“So you not throwing anything?” Her voice was playful, screwed up in false annoyance but there was a glimmer of curiosity in your expression that made Franklin raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Franklin’s voice was firm. It was loud, deep, and carried like he knew it was heavy. And Kimberley sucked a short breath in at the sound.

“I’m allowed to be nosey at work.” She bit back.

She didn’t wait for a reply, taking one of the shots in her hand as she placed it back on the table and kept the other one in her grasp. Franklin didn’t answer, but he chuckled into the glass he was currently taking a sip from. He didn’t notice he was copying her movements, and he didn’t acknowledge it when he realized.

“You new?” He asked simply.

Kimberley nodded, releasing a sigh as she tilted her head back and downed her final shot. “I could tell cause you sitting down on the job.”

It was like hearing a record scratch, and her head snapped towards him with furrowed eyebrows. Kimberley could suck her teeth in annoyance at the buzz her stomach felt when she saw the mocking smirk playing on his lips.

She said nothing though, staring at him intently as the pleased look never left his lips. She might have felt that familiar heat rise up her neck from earlier, but she swallowed it down with another sip of her drink.

The liquid courage spoke for her louder than she could think, the words tumbling off her tongue. “You asking me questions, how are you cheap with a strip club?”

Franklin laughed— actually laughed— at her bold approach. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the second hand smoke, or maybe it was the cute way she froze up after the words came out of her mouth, but he couldn’t help but shake his head.

Franklin was, for the very first time, speechless. He liked flirting with girls, he usually did it very easily. They liked what they saw and he liked where it got him at the end of the night. He wasn’t familiar with a woman quipping back with a response. He knew he liked it, he just couldn’t figure out why.

The music bounced, and before giving him a chance to respond Kimberley stood up from her seat and adjusted her fishnet set. The music began to blare louder, and to save herself from ogling the handsome man in front of her, she turned towards him and placed the cups down on the bar.

“Now excuse me,” her words were loud enough to hear, but some annoying feeling in the back of Franklin’s mind made him feel like her voice was only for him to hear, “I’ve got some money to make.”

Her words were playful, and almost as quick as she stood up Franklin watched her disappear into the crowd. Leon unfortunately did not miss how Franklin’s eyes just couldn’t tear away from her disappearing frame.

Leon found a way around the club sofas, completely leaving the girls he was currently accompanying alone and grabbing another bottle from the table.

“I see you.” His words were simple, but the slap on Franklin’s chest as Leon sat down where the dancer just was, made Franklin roll his eyes and stare at him with an emotionless expression.

“You ain’t see shit.”

It was foolish of Franklin to believe Leon could be trusted during closing. After leaving an annoying 5 figure check with crumpled bills and a mess at their tables, he was getting into his car with two dancers Franklin didn’t even get a second look at. Almost everyone had dispersed slowly, and Franklin took the longest as he organized the money inside the checkbook and handed it back to the stripper attending their table.

The lights were on, and it was a scene no one wants to be in. With a speed and a bit of a wobble he didn’t have walking in, Franklin made a beeline for his car through the crowd and said his goodbyes the quickest he’d ever done. He entered the car swiftly, and sighed as he sunk down into the driver’s seat. It was 4am and the sun was starting to peak through the far horizon. Franklin hated being up so late, and he was spending money instead of making it which only made it worse.

He sighed for the millionth time of the night, and watched as bodies drunkenly dispersed into the night. He didn’t switch the radio on, only backing out and starting his journey back to one of his closer complexes he owned in the city area.

He hadn’t even fully made it out the lot before seeing a familiar face pout as she seemed to be waiting for something.

Franklin was slightly sobered up. It wasn’t normal of him to pull his car up on a curb to speak to a woman he only exchanged no more than 20 words with. It wasn’t something he did after going to a fucking strip club on a night he hadn’t expected to go out. But somehow by the grace of who fucking knows what, Franklin found himself putting his car in park as he rolled the tinted window down.

“Aye.” He lifted his head in acknowledgment, and he watched as Kimberley’s doe eyes met his with a slight drunken smile.

“You here to boss me around some more?” Her voice rasped.

She looked tired, the makeup still on her face but her hair was now tied up in a bun. She switched out of her barely clothed uniform and sported a pink velour tracksuit with an oversized tote bag looking like it’s weighing on her poor shoulder. Franklin had to stop himself from staring at her up and down once more and turned his head to face forward and away from her with a laugh.

“I’m just here to make sure you make it back to my business tomorrow.” He didn’t turn to look back at her again, but he could hear her stifle a laugh at his response.

“I’m waiting on my cab now, I’ll be good.” Kimberley brushed a slipping curl out her face, turning her nose up at the car and trying to maintain a face of confidence.

In reality, her phone was dead, no one had a charger for her model, and she was too embarrassed to flag one down until Franklin’s car was far out of her view.

She didn’t notice his look of contemplation, and Franklin found himself moving without control of his body for the third time of the night. His hands were quick, reaching over the console to unlock the passenger seat and sitting back in his seat with a hand resting on his window.

“Just get in.” His words were simple but demanding. Kimberley didn’t budge.

“No I’m good—”

“I didn’t ask, I’m telling you.” He cut her off, and reached for the door handle with a slight frustration in his tone. He didn’t offer rides, he didn’t offer to drive strippers home, and he didn’t offer to drive his employed strippers home after he spent an ungodly amount of money in his own establishment. But his mother raised a good man and he hated her for it.

Kimberley froze, her brain racing as she stared at Franklin’s hand holding the door handle through the open window. Franklin Saint. She made a few sly jokes at him earlier today at work and now he was offering her a ride home. She could wait maybe an hour or so in the dark alley of the club in the middle of the dangerous heart of Los Angeles with no form of protection, or she could ride with the definition of a protected man.

Unfortunately, she felt defeated as she reached for the handle and opened it herself.

The black BMW was growling, the engine purring as she felt it hit her body once she sat down. It smelled good— really fucking good. And she bit her lip after closing the door and reaching for her seatbelt.

“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet. She was too tired for this, too tired to decide this could’ve been one of the worst risks she’d ever taken in her life.

She was a stripper and she had been for a long time. She knew the dangers that came with dancing. Those were things she was prepared to expect. She wasn’t prepared for Franklin Saint though. And she didn’t know of anyone that ever was.

“Where you live at?” He didn’t bother acknowledging the thank you and only reached to turn the radio up slightly as he waited for a response.

“Just 15 minutes from here, between Jefferson and Hillcrest.” Kimberley explained. Franklin stood quiet, only placing his arm behind her headrest and reversing out the club’s driveway.

“You usually drive strippers home?” She asks suddenly. Franklin laughs, but covers it with a cough into his elbow to stifle the sound.

“I prefer the term employee.” He jokes back.

Kimberley laughs as she places her large tote bag on her lap.

“And I prefer the term entertainer.” Kimberley was quick, and it gave Franklin a feeling he didn’t get often.

He liked the fact that every time he says something, no matter how long or short worded the sentence was, she always had something to respond with. The idea of talking back was support to be foreign to him, but she stood with her head held high and ready to hit him right back. He hated that he found it attractive.

The next track on his CD began as they drove in silence, and Kimberley breathed out a laugh as Franklin began to drive on the main road. He looked at her through the corner of her eye. “What’s funny?”

“Is this Bill Withers?” Kimberley asked silently.

It was almost like they were both in competition. Whoever looked at the other would lose. And they were both winning. Maybe it was the alcoholic confidence rubbing off, and maybe it was Kimberley’s exhaustion, but she tried not to think about it too much as she stared at the passing trees.

“You got a problem with my music too?” Franklin asks, accelerating the car slightly to beat a red light.

“I ain’t even say nothing yet.” Kimberley lightly teased back.

“I give you a job and a ride—” Franklin doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Kimberley groans, making a laugh Franklin didn’t even know he was capable of erupt from his stomach.

“I should quit now.” She looked over at the man for a second, allowing herself to finally, and almost had to force her head away from him with her hands.

She had already seen him in the club, but it was something about the way he looked in the dark, domestic, and personal lighting of his car. He was smiling, and his teeth almost made her blush in itself. This really was a beautiful man to look at. And Kimberley hated it.

“I can’t have my best employee quit, that’s crazy.” His words were playful as he drove, but Kimberley found herself furrowing her eyebrows and raising one up at him in question.

“What makes you think I’m the best employee?” Kimberley asked with confusion. The only thing running through her mind was the amount of times she had come to work a bit later than the house mother would enjoy. She came in and made the business a lot of profit with frequent revisits, but damn was she horrible at time management.

“I did my research.” He shrugged, turning his head towards his window quickly to advert his gaze and switching over to the next lane.

“And?” Kimberley rested a hand on the dashboard.

Kimberley had a horrible habit of comforting herself around any and everyone. It was something some appreciated, but some hated. She was charismatic and charming and she couldn’t help it.

“And what?” Franklin asked.

For the first time since the club, they both met eyes as he turned towards her with a smirk on his face. It almost faltered, her tired doe eyes staring up at him with a lazy smile and Franklin starts thinking about the next time he’d be willing to deal with loud strip club music if it meant he got to look at her from a distance one more time.

“We both know you aren’t a stupid man Franklin.” She rolled her eyes, leaning back into her seat and resting her head against the seat as she turned towards him. Kinberley only shrugged when he looked from the road back at her with his eyebrows slightly raised. “I do my research too.”

Kimberley’s eyes caught a few familiar buildings, and her heart almost sank as she realized she was already nearing her street. But she brushed it off, clearing her throat before Franklin could reply and pointing towards a street towards her right.

“You could just turn here. My house is at the end.” She stated, and Franklin followed her direction.

He had recognized the area, probably driving through here for some local business, but he kept that to himself as he began to subconsciously slow down to prolong the trip.

“You lived here long?” He asked, tapping his fingers to the music as he drove smoothly down the empty road full of parked cars.

“Nah, moved in a few months ago after leaving my mom’s in Jersey.” She answered, and Franklin snapped his head towards the girl next to him.

“Jersey? I knew you ain’t sound like you’re from Cali.” He teased, and Kimberley giggled at the observation she was used to receiving.

“I know, I sound better.” Her words were sharp, but lacking any malice as she smiled in pride and began to make sure nothing had fallen into the seat around her. Franklin only laughed in response.

“Alright,” she lifted her head, finally seeing her home and signaling for him to stop, “this is me.”

The car grew quiet, the soft piano outro ringing gently through the speakers. The light from the sun was beginning to shine, and it caught Kimberley as she turned towards Franklin with a smile.

“Thank you for the ride home, seriously.” She rasps, and her eyes began to droop a bit more than she means for them to.

“Don’t expect it again.” Franklin keeps his words short as he nods at the thank you with a smug grin on his lips.

Kimberley opens the door and rolls her eyes. She doesn’t see how he watches her frame her out the car. And she doesn’t see the curiosity in his eyes when he sees her smooth brown skin appear between the tracksuit on her way out. Kimberley closes the door and leans onto the window as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Kimberley.” She states, making Franklin quirk an eyebrow.

“That’s my name— not Nova.” Kimberley replies to herself. The man finds himself nodding in understanding, repeating it a million times over in his head as he changed the car’s gear from park to drive.

Franklin fixes himself to respond, but Kimberley beats him to it with a wave of her hands as she lifts her body up from leaning against the car door.

“Drive home safe, thanks Franklin.”

She walks off slowly, and Kimberley would never admit to anyone about how she slightly strutted her hips as she walked up to entrance steps.

Franklin didn’t pull off, he doesn’t know why he watches her go into her building, and doesn’t know why he expects her to turn around one more time. She doesn’t, and Franklin finds his hands reaching for the steering wheel again when the apartment door closes.

He pulls off, but his brain lingers back on the street disappearing in his rear view mirror.

Kimberley was beautiful, that was obvious. She was gorgeous, had a gorgeous smile, a perfect body, and had an annoyingly perfect personality to match. They had only spoken lightly, but Franklin couldn’t get that voice and that smile out of his head on the drive out of the area.

He wasn’t a monster to not drive a lonely woman home, he knows the dangers of Los Angeles and what comes with the life she chooses to live. He owns the strip club itself— he knows what happens.

But for some reason, nothing from tonight replays more than the way he made her laugh during their first conversation. To her frazzled expression at his strict retorts, to how she pays him no mind and quips right back— Franklin makes it back to his apartment complex with Kimberley leaving a streak of an impression in his brain. It doesn’t help she left her perfume smell behind in the passenger seat.

And as Franklin parks his car in the specified parking garage for him, he thinks and thinks and thinks about Kimberley. Tomorrow he has so many meetings and so many people to meet with and so much money to make, but for some reason her voice rings in his head as if she was mocking him. Haunting him with her smooth raspiness and sexy charisma.

Franklin rubs a hand across his face as he pulls the key out of the ignition. She was a stripper, it’s her job to be nice to her boss of all people and make money. You don’t take it personal— it’s their job.

And even through knowing all of this, Franklin smirks to himself as he gets out of the car and heads over to his apartment. He’ll see Kimberley again, and realize all of this was just the stress from today elevating his emotions as they usually do.

He’ll prove to himself (and you unknowingly) that all of this was a fluke and it meant nothing, he just did his good deed of the day.

He’ll prove that Franklin Saint does not become enamored by one single conversation and a ride home. Whether he believes that or not.

hope you all enjoyed lol I appreciate all critics and compliments but I prefer the latter ;) lol jk xox ily