ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ was discovered at fourteen years old, being praised as a musical prodigy by the media ever since. His fame had only increased until now. At nineteen old, he's the most remarkable musician of his age, and he's only getting started. At...
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ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ
This world tour had been the most tiring thing I'd experienced in my nineteen years of life, yet somehow as I sat in the car on my way back home, I couldn't help but smile with the excitement of seeing my family again.
"Mason, can you please turn the radio off?" I asked my manager, who only shushed at me in response, turning the volume up instead. The driver looked back at me, and although he was wearing sunglasses and only had less than a second to glance at me, I knew he was as frustrated as I was.
"He's young, but the potential is there. He's a strong vocalist, a prodigy of a songwriter, and he has heaps of high school girls fawning over him," the radio commentator said. Mason looked back at me, nodding in satisfaction to the commentary.
"But I doubt he's available," another commentator said. His voice was warmer and carried more resonance; the man must have been grinning. "Gritz and Carrillo still seem to hit it off pretty well, don't they?"
I rolled my eyes. I didn't know what they wanted me to say for them to believe Hanna and I had broken up.
"It was definitely one big publicity stunt," a girl who was apparently phoning with the radio guy replied, laughing with a high pitched voice. "It doesn't seem like he's too focused to girls right now."
"Yes, I heard he got into some trouble during his tour. Maybe there's some internal things he should be working on right now."
"Mason, please just turn it off," I mumbled. I knew my request was in vain, but I couldn't sit here and listen to people talking about my every move.
"Oh, what did he do then?"
"Mason, turn it off," I said, covering my ears.
He did turn it off, but only to some other station talking about me. This one wasn't live, it was one I was a guest on when I visited London. Mason must've put it on himself.
"We really have to ask you, are you currently tried down, Oakley?" the British woman had asked me. I remember sitting there, blind-sighted by the question. They weren't allowed to ask me that question before, it was always in the banned questions list. She took my silence as an answer, and then proceeded to ask who I was seeing—Genevieve or Hanna.
"This is straight up disgusting," I had answered, scrunching up my nose. I didn't have time to think, it just came out that way. Gen had always been like a big sister to me. People building theories around us made both of us uncomfortable and we hadn't made that a secret. People didn't care, though. They're conditioned to believe what they want to be true.
