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* this is the original first draft. The rewrite is now also out on my profile! *
ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ was discovered at fourteen years old, being praised as a musical prodigy by the media ever since. His f...
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ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ
I'd never felt like this before. And it was weird, because a few weeks ago, I would've sworn I was straight and I wouldn't even question it.
But there was something about Nolan that made it impossible for me not to be attracted to him.
Both of us were busy the entire week, so the only time we could plan out first actual date would be in two weeks. And then I'd have to leave for my tour a few days later. It's been a few days since we planned that, and I hadn't spoken to him—or to anyone, actually—since.
I didn't want to leave.
I wanted more time. All I needed was more time. Never in my life had I questioned whether any of this was worth it up until now.
"Oakley, are you okay?" I looked in my doorway to see Trisha standing there with her arms crossed.
"I'm okay," I said, looking back up at the ceiling.
"Have you just been staring up at that ceiling for the past couple hours?"
"Maybe."
"Weren't you supposed to do stuff today?"
"Maybe."
"You turned your phone off, didn't you?"
"Maybe. Can you just get out of my room now?"
"Fine," she said, and she just walked away. Leaving my door wide open. But I didn't even bother to yell at her.
Fuck.
"Oakley." I looked back at the door again to now find my dad standing there. Great. Exactly what I needed.
"What is it?" I asked.
"You've been up here for hours. You haven't eaten. What's wrong?"
"I'm just tired," I said. I wasn't lying. I just wasn't feeling like leaving my room.
"You know your manager called. Said you didn't show up for rehearsals. And they couldn't reach you."
"My phone's dead," I said. Another half truth.
"Oakley. Are you happy?" he asked, practically out of nowhere.
"I'm not unhappy," I said.
"What would make you actually happy?"
"Not going on tour, for one."
We were both quiet for a bit. I could hear the sound of the tv playing from downstairs.
"You know I'm not good at this," my dad eventually said. "But I don't like seeing you like this."
