☀︎︎Featured on Wattpad's @NA and @FreeTheLGBT☀︎︎
* 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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Hi! Good news: I'm a finalist in the Ever After Awards by emmaeverafter , and although I don't expect to win, I'd really appreciate it if you'd vote on me for the reader's choice :) just comment '+1' after my name, you can do it up to 5 times! Thank u in advance ❤️
•••
ɴᴏʟᴀɴᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
I was getting used to it. I forced myself to not think about the ghost on the other side of the country. Like some magic spell, this seemed to be the cure for my bad acting. Things went alright during the day. I had my phone turned off the entire time and things were alright.
Yet the moment I came home, I found myself checking the device again, hoping for a missed call or a missed message. Like expected, I found nothing.
I was lying in my bed, ready to sleep as my phone rang. Hope grew in my chest, but I pushed it down to not get disappointed. When his name lit up my phone screen, I didn't hesitate to pick it up. Because whatthe actual fuck.
"Hey," I said, surprise lacing my voice. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, I'm sorry." He paused for a moment. I could hear him take a deep breath on the other side of the call. "Can I talk to you for a little?" His voice was lower than usual and lacked any sort of tone. It was as though someone replicated his voice and computer-generated some sentences for him to say.
"Yeah, of course." I sat down and moved my pillows around until I found myself in a comfortable position.
"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I think— I don't know. I think I'm just in a really bad place right now."
I was wrong. There was a tone in his voice. It just wasn't one I really recognized. He sounded drained of energy.
"Oakley, did anything happen?"
"No, it's okay. Nothing happened. Not really, I guess. I think I'm just— I don't know. I just needed to talk to you. Because I haven't in a while and I'm really sorry about that."
I didn't know how to act in a situation like this. He sounded exhausted, miserable, and desperate. He couldn't do this for another month without tearing himself apart. But at least he'd be getting a break in between. Though something in the back of my mind told me it wasn't going to be enough. "Okay, that's okay. When are you coming back?"
"Like, eight more days, I think."
"Eight more days, and then I'll talk you out on a date again. Another private place. Slightly more serial-killer-esque." I tried to weave in the little joke to release some of the tension.
