The Obscure Downsides of Fame

8 // get out

CHAPTER EIGHT
get out
•••

ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ

"You need to get out of the house for a bit, honey," my mom said as she stood in my doorway. 

I groaned as dropped myself down on my bed.

"Why?"

"Look. You've been sitting at home for months now and you're becoming irrelevant."

I knew my mom. This was her secret code for 'I need a quick fuck'. However, I wasn't in the mood to go out. No doubt the paparazzi was going to follow me like a plague now that I'm just back from my break.

"Mom, that's bu— nonsense." I sat up and looked at her. She never liked my 'foul language' and things in her expression could always tell me if she was angry or sad or anything. If she was mad, she would turn bright red.

Slipping up around my mom was always tricky. If I didn't choose my words carefully, I'd get another speech about how image is everything and how a tiny slip up could be the end of my career.

Looked like this time she let me off the hook though. But not without getting one of her death glares which meant frustration.

"You're going, Nolan. Maybe ask one of your friends." She walked away, dismissing the conversation. Her philosophy was basically 'you can't argue if I'm not there'

"Could've just said 'I have men to fuck'," I mumbled under my breath.

I grabbed my car keys and my phone and made my way outside.

As much as I hate going out, I hate hearing my mom do god knows what worse. I wanted to get out before any of said men even arrived.

Ask one of your friends. The friends that are halfway across the country for college.

I always hated going out alone and I thought that once I had made friends, I wouldn't have to anymore. But sometimes I tend to forget that not everyone is free when I am. Even just driving to my favorite ice cream parlor alone made me feel stared at. Maybe because I was being stared at.

I stood outside my car, observing the door to the ice cream shop, and suddenly I started questioning myself why I was here.

If I were to go inside, I'd have to talk to a stranger. All attention would be on me the second I walked through that door. Did I really want that?

I was ready to turn around and get back inside my car when I saw a slightly familiar face looking my way.

What should I do? Do I smile and go away? Do I wave? Do I make small talk? What would I even talk about?

I looked up at him and waved, standing there awkwardly as he approached me.

As if my heart wasn't beating hard enough.

"Hi," Oakley said.

"Hi," I said back, staring at my feet.

"You looked pretty alone. Wanna get some ice cream?"

I couldn't hide my smile. He wasn't a great actor. It was quite obvious he knew I wanted that ice cream. He probably also knew I chickened out.

God, he probably thinks I'm so weird.

But I really needed that ice cream right now.

"Sure," I said.

"Hey, Nolan?"

"Yeah?"

I looked up at him for a second. I didn't even realize I did it until smirked at me.

"I'm sure your shoes are very interesting but so is my face. Or so I've been told."

"You've been lied to." I now had a smirk playing on my lips too.

He gasped.

"Okay, okay, I got it. Let's just get some ice cream."

Maybe it was a good thing I went here after all.