✧˚[ 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄 ]˚✧ ||| A Sebastian Stan short story

✧˚[ 2 - BUTTERCUPS & PRINCIPLES ]˚✧

Two months later, somewhere in southern Germany

"Instead of writing a whole new story, you should finish this one first and publish it. Or do you wanna let it sit on the hard drive and grow dust like the rest?"

"It's complicated."

"It's not complicated, it's called ADHD, my buttercup. How many times do I have to tell you?" the teacher-like voice from the speaker echoed off the bathroom tiles.

Annika, named Nika by everyone, couldn't help but burst out laughing. She stepped out of the shower, grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself. "Alright, alright. Someday I'll get it, even with my last two sane brain cells buried under all this mess."

"Finally", Maike uttered a theatrical prayer. "At last we're one step closer. But seriously: you should publish them. They're really, really good stories."

If you only knew...

"You should tell the Monk in me. Fucking perfectionism."

Maike agreed with an experienced, sarcastic grunt before her little daughter demanded another crusty piece of bread with butter for dinner in the background.

The mirror in Nika's small bathroom was foggy. One wipe and, as so often, she found a guilty conscience staring back at her. A guilty conscience about a well-kept secret nobody knew about. There would be no worldwide scandal if it was revealed, but she kept it to herself. She wasn't ready to come out with it yet. Not even in front of those she trusted more than anyone else and who were also responsible for it in some way.

Without the constant support, the good words of encouragement and the one or other loving imaginary kick in the ass, she probably would never have dared to actually pursue this one, all-fulfilling dream after 32 years of a monotonous, dreary existence on this crazy planet. It was the dream of writing, the dream of telling stories, of creating worlds and characters that grew closer and closer with every word, with every page she wrote and which never ever let go agian. Every single one of them became part of Nika's family. Just like Maike, Judith and Mischa. In such a short time, they became like sisters to her, sisters-by-heart. They were her chosen family and she never wanted to miss them again. Neither the endless chats and phone calls at all hours of the day and night, no matter how unchristian, nor the equally often unchristian but also deep issues in them.

If someone had claimed in the past that Nika would talk and write openly about all kinds of sexual practices and preferences in the near future or book an overpriced train ticket from Munich to Berlin without thinking twice just to have a 50/50 chance of meeting an actor, she would have declared them totally nuts. Open-hearted, direct and spontaneous were the last words her closest friends and family would have used to describe Nika. But that changed. And this inner change began with a single, very short movie sequence. Now, after two years, it found its temporary stopover - despite so many twists of fate - in absolute serenity, steadfast self-confidence and a feeling of joy she hadn't experienced before.

It was thanks to this undeniably good-looking actor. Well... Actually, it wasn't really him. It all started with Marvel. And with a pretty fucked-up, fictional, almost 100-year-old assassin who fell off a moving train during the Second World War and unfortunately lost a part of his body in the process.

Bucky. Bucky Barnes. Or Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, for those who took it exactly.

Ten seconds. Ten seconds were enough for Nika to bawl her eyes out over his cruel and sad story. And about what he lost, what he couldn't remember because his memory was stolen, over and over again. Until the very scene in which he came face to face with his old childhood friend.