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
Nolan's place felt oddly large for just two people to live in. It wasn't surprising for a rich family, yet it somehow felt like he wasn't in the right place.
"Hi," he said as he got in the passenger's seat of my car.
"Do you even use all the space in there?" My place was half as big, and housed twice as many people, yet we still had an empty room left.
"Not nearly," he said, pushing some of his hair out of face and buckling up.
"I think I'd go crazy living there with just one other person, even if it were my mom."
He smiled, looking straight ahead at the house. "It used to drive me insane too." His smile fell just lightly, as though he went from a fond memory to a bittersweet one. He looked at me then, his cheeks turning a light shade of red and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "I used to be paranoid of being alone in there, because there was just no oversight. My mom told me to get over it as I was getting too old because be scared on my own. So one day, a little after I turned ten, I thought I heard knocking. I called my mom and went straight to voicemail. Right as I wanted to try my dad, there was a power outage."
"Wait, they left you home alone and didn't pick up when you called?" I asked, smiling as it was what he did, but I didn't really think it was funny.
"Well, my dad did pick up. He came home a little later, I made him check all the camera footage. Turned out it was some stupid bird." His smile was gone now, and so were the rosy cheeks. "So... where are we going?"
Right. I finally started the car and pulled out of the driveway. "My dad's restaurant is only like ten minutes away, so I thought we could get some lunch there."
"Right. I heard about it at the party."
"Yeah. The entire place is just the best. It's like that ice cream place but for solid foods."
"Sounds good," he said, staring at the road intently. He was more focused on it than I was, and I was the one driving.
"Do you bake anything else other than cupcakes?"
"I can do anything," he said with a smile. This time I could feel him watching the side of my head. "I can even do macarons. Like, they're flawless every time. That takes skill."
"Hm, I'll believe it when I see it," I said.
"I'll prove it to you someday," he said, sitting down a bit more comfortably in the seat. "What's your thing, apart from your job?"
"I don't have a thing. I live for music and I will die for it."
"There has to be something else. Some kind of sport?"
