The Obscure Downsides of Fame

15 // common misconception

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
common misconception
•••

ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ

"Where are you going?" Trisha asks that Saturday when I grab an apple from the kitchen counter.

"Out," I replied dryly, taking a bite from my apple. Trisha rolled her eyes a me.

"I was wondering if you could pick up a pair of shoes for me. You know, the same ones with the hole?"

"Shouldn't you have replaced them months ago?" I asked her. She got the hole before I started the European leg of my tour, which was in fact months ago.

"Well if I did that, I'd have to pay for them myself. But you know, since my superstar brother is back..." she grinned at me.

"Trish," I sighed dramatically as I sat down at the kitchen table. "You're my sister and I love you and all. But I feel like you're using me," I said, resting my hand on my chest for emphasis. "It hurts, you know?"

"Oh, dearest brother," Trisha said, sitting down in the chair across from me. "That's what siblings are for."

"Okay. How bad do you want these shoes you already own?"

"Really bad." She nodded in confirmation.

"I'll go if I find the time, okay? I had plans with Nolan." I took another bite of my apple.

"Nolan? Since when have you guys been friends?" Trisha asked.

"I don't know. Not long." I shrugged it off and stood up, looking around to see if I was forgetting something. "I mean I need friends, he probably does so too. Have you seen my keys, by the way?"

"Where you always leave them," she said. "Hey, but Oakley; don't be stupid, okay? You don't want to scare him off," she warned, even pointing her finger at me.

I laughed. Trisha's humor was honestly so stupid, but I liked the fact that I was one of the few people to understand it.

"I'm leaving, alright? See you later," I said, before leaving the kitchen.

I grabbed my coat with my keys in them and left.

The drive to the ice cream parlor was less than five minutes. When I entered, I noticed Nolan sitting at the same table as last time, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. I sat across from him, waiting for him to notice me.

"Hey," I said when I realized he wasn't going to. He looked startled for a bit, but quickly recovered. I smiled at him, a sweet but simple gesture.

"Hey," he mumbled, looking back at his sleeves.

By the way he was frowning, I could tell something was on his mind. Though I wasn't sure if I was supposed to ask. We weren't exactly friends quite yet, and I knew how hard it is to trust people when you're well-known.

I looked around. Honestly, I didn't know what to do or say. I usually surrounded myself with people who like to talk as much as I do. If I didn't have anything to say, there'd always be someone who did.

Nolan was way different though. Over text, communicating was easy. In real life, not so much.

"Did you wear glasses the last time too?" I asked, trying to start up a conversation.

He pushed the aluminum frame of the glasses back, as if just noticing he's wearing them at all.

"Uhm, probably not," he said. "I prefer contacts," he explained.

"Aha. I'm blessed with perfect vision," I said, leaning on my seat. "I'm actually terrified of contacts," I confessed. Contacts were truly one of my biggest fears.

"You are?" he asked, looking up at me, trying to read my expression.

"I tried those creepy Halloween ones once. I needed my mom to get them out." I actually shuddered at the memory. It really was an unpleasant experience, to say the least.

"I mean, at least they don't smudge," Nolan said, with the faintest shadow of a smile playing on his lips.

"Well, I think glasses look good on you," I admitted. Once again he looked at me over the rim of his glasses, this time a blush coloring his cheeks.

And I grinned.

"If you're done embarrassing me, I'll buy you ice cream," he uttered, looking away again.

"Sounds like a plan," I said as I got up from my place.

I ordered what I did the last time, and so did Nolan. This time he paid.

"Thank you," I said when we sat back at the table.

"It's fine."

"I don't mean just the ice cream," I told him. He looked puzzled, so I started to explain. "For helping me out and stuff. And for being a friend," I said.

"Wh- Why, actually?" he asked, clearly uncertain. "Don't you have a bunch of friends?"

I had the skill to talk to people a lot, but making friends was a different story. Ever since middle school, I found it difficult to trust people, but this only got worse when the fame came.

All of this was so time consuming that I lost the few friends I had during high school. The only person I'd consider my friend right now was Genevieve, but we weren't in the best place right now.

"Common misconception," I sighed.

"Oh. Sorry," he said sheepishly, his face flushing again.

"Maybe I should write about that," I joked. He smiled though, and that made me feel a lot better.

"It took me two years of experimenting and I'm still not sure what I want," Nolan said. "It might take longer than we realize."

Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I haven't tried enough.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

idk why I can't write anymore wth.

Anyways, a fast question.

If this were your book, what would be the title?

I'm asking mainly because titles inspire covers for me, and I really want a new one. And maybe I like your title is even better than my own 😋