ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ was discovered at fourteen years old, being praised as a musical prodigy by the media ever since. His fame had only increased until now. At nineteen old, he's the most remarkable musician of his age, and he's only getting started. At...
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ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
It had become really hard to know what he was thinking lately. There were fragments of moments where he was smiling, his eyes were sparkling and he was practically stuck to my side. But then there also were these moments where he stared with dull eyes at the plain white ceiling, nearly unresponsive to anything I said.
"Are you hungry?" I asked him for the second time in a row. He looked at me, and shook his head.
He continued fiddling with the comforter between his fingers.
"I couldn't sleep last night," he admitted.
"And why do you think that is?" I asked him.
"It's like my brain wants to sabotage me."
That feeling wasn't unfamiliar to me. Self-sabotage was the thing I was best at after all. The constant doubts on whether I was good enough for anything.
"Things were so perfect until they weren't. I woke up in the middle of the night and suddenly I'm just..."
He sighed and looked at me. "You know what? I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" I asked him. I reached out for his hand, and he took it without hesitation. He nodded.
"I want to see the beach," he told me.
I grinned and pulled at his arm, trying to get him out of the bed.
"Come on, then. Maybe we can get in the water for a bit."
"Get in the water?"
"Yeah, let's go," I said, pulling harder. He finally succumbed and let me drag him out of the bed, but not without dramatically rolling onto the floor. I guessed he didn't think it through, because he groaned as he hit the floor with a loud thump.
"I thought you liked me," he said, looking up at me from the floor, rubbing the part of his arm on which he fell.
"I'll like you a lot better once you get up off your ass," I said, and he finally got up, slowly but surely.
He held into my hand as I dragged him outside, and I watched him as after our few minute run, he stood on the edge of the stairs, looking down at the beach.
"I don't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it," he said, a smile growing as he looked at me. "I meant that in the best way possible. I haven't seen a beach in years."
