Hans Larsson

Hans didn't even know what to expect as he squeezed onto Rik's hand a little more firmly than intended since his heart was now in his mouth. Fuck. He was so nervous he could feel sweat beads begin to form underneath his shaggy mane of blond hair. Then the knocking happened.

...

Hunter was just about to pour himself another glass of red wine when he heard the knock at the door. Gilly was in the shower, having only stepped into the hot jets a few moments ago. The Swede filled his glass up quickly and then went to the door. Pulling it open the Swede immediately clapped eyes onto Hans and felt all the blood drain from his face. It was like he was seeing a ghost standing in front of him. Gasping, his wine glass slipped from his hand and smashed onto the floor making the carpet bleed a crimson red colour. Staggering backwards into his room, Hunter clapped a hand over his shocked face and gasped, feeling his legs give way as he sat on the end of the bed. Nearly collapsing back onto his bed he felt tears well up at the corners of his eyes.

"H-Hans? Är det verkligen du?"

The singer's words were rasped; his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to run. This wasn't real.