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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ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
"Nolan Theodore Mullen," my mom said in a stern voice as I entered the living room after Oakley dropped me off at home. She and my dad were sitting on the couch, my dad with teary eyes and my mother with an angry frown on her face.
"I know, Mom. I fucked up. You don't have to tell me that." I stood there and crossed my arms. If she wanted to say something, she should say it now, because I was going to lock myself up in my room for the rest of the night. I needed to let my mind run wild for the night, or else it would happen tomorrow at work.
"What was going through your mind? Are you crazy?"
"I was sixteen," I said. "I didn't think I'd ever get back to acting again. It was stupid."
"What have you been taking?" she asked me. Her blue eyes were opened wide, and a crease marked her forehead. The only indicator that she had shed a tear or two was the slight smudge of her mascara where she must've wiped her waterline.
"I'm not taking anything anymore," I said. "I promise."
My mom shook her head, pulling out her phone in the process. "What was this? When was this?" she said, her phone held in front of my face. A distant, blurry picture of me with a cut straw in my nose.
The picture almost looked like it was from a movie scene. It was almost like it wasn't me. It was a character. The colored lights in the background slightly illuminated my face, and the boy behind me was wearing a large grin pointed at someone just out of frame. The kid next to him was having the time of her life, both her hands up in the air, and the person closest to the camera had only half his face in the frame as it was cropped, but even from half his face, you could see his goofy smile and dilated pupil.
I didn't remember who took the picture. I barely remembered the party.
My mom scrolled to the next picture. It was me again, this time in focus, with a blurry girl only half covering me. My cheeks were red and I grinned at a boy I liked at the time. My hair was a mess, and my face was shiny from sweat.
She scrolled again, and this was another party. This time I was smoking something, and finally looked away. I didn't remember a lot of these days.
"Who posted these?" I asked, glaring at my feet. This time there was a noise. A song was playing in the background, and two kids were talking singing along to the lyrics, laughing after they got to the chorus. A familiar head of messy blond hair paired with icy blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a gummy smile. Next to him was a small afro on a round face, with deepest dark eyes and a nose ring. These were Fletcher and Vinny.
"You think he'd fuck me? I bet you fifty dollars he'd fuck me," Fletcher said, with a blush that reached out from his neck to his ears.
"He's like royalty, man. Plus he's eye fucking Daisy, I think he's straight."
