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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...
This chapter is really long. I'm sorry. Hihi. You can break it up into parts if you need to but I wanted to keep the alternating POV's
Also, idk if this is necessary but {tw: substance abuse}
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR I promise you forever •••
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ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
"I'm sorry," my dad told me. His expression had changed practically immediately after Oakley had left. He went from smiling to furrowed brown in an instant, like he was putting up an act this entire time. "I know I should've been there for you, and I wasn't."
His eyes were getting glossier as he stood straighter, trying to keep his composure.
"Dad, are you okay? What's wrong?" Sure he wasn't exactly around after he and my mom split up, but it's not like he left me in some financial crisis. He literally handed his house over to me and my mom, even though my mom could've bought ourselves a new one just as quickly. He couldn't be that sorry about it.
My mind was already trying to fill in the blanks. Did someone die? Was he dying?
"There have been videos circling around for a little bit and I've been trying to keep them out of the public."
I wasn't dying, but my life was still flashing before my eyes as though I were.
"What?" My voice started trembling as flashbacks came back. "I promise you it's not like that anymore. I was... I don't know why, Dad." I didn't know why I did it. Pressure? Teenage curiosity? Teenage rebellion? Just pure stupidity?
"I'll have to talk to your mother about this."
"She won't understand! You can't tell her. She'll think it's on her. You can't—"
"Maybe it is a little bit her fault too, Nolan!" He'd raised his voice at me. A lump formed in my throat. My dad hadn't raised his voice at me since I was a kid. "She should've been paying more attention, and so did I. I rather have one of us tell her, than her seeing it in some tabloid or some blogpost."
"Tabloids?" I shook my head. This couldn't be real. "Dad, what do I do?"
"You can talk about it before they publish it."
"No! No I can't," I said, shaking my head. The tears started flowing down my face. My breathing became heavier and my vision blurred, despite my glasses still sitting comfortably on my nose.
"You'll have to. You have an interview today, right?"
I nodded, staring at my shoes. I wiped the tears away. They weren't helping the situation at all.
"Let me talk to your mother, and you'll handle this, okay? I can only do so much for you, Nolan. You have two weeks at most to clear things up."
