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...
| CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR | everything, all simultaneously
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ
"What's that?" Hunter asked, hovering over my shoulder as I clutched the box with keys in my hands. I knew I wanted to give Oakley a set of them, but I wasn't sure when was the right time or what would be the right thing to say.
We were currently in the sky, still touching the clouds. I kind of wished the flight would've been longer, so I could've had more time to think of the perfect thing to say.
"Nolan?" he asked, snapping his fingers in front of my face. He's been trying to make conversation this whole time but I'd been so dry. I had noticed the constant tapping of his foot, and the jitteriness every time there was an odd sound or movement. It was apparent he wasn't very fond of flights, and he was looking for a distraction.
"I'm sorry. Just nervous," I said, flashing him a smile.
"You too?" he asked, almost laughing. "It's because I once played this kid in a plane crash. Been a nervous wreck on flights ever since," he explained, scratching the back of his head.
"It's not that," I told him. "I, uhm, it's my birthday in a few days."
"Really?" he asked. "That's amazing! What are you doing?"
"Oh, not much," I admitted. "I never really celebrate my birthday, but I don't know."
"So is that a birthday present?" he then asked, pointing at the box I'd now secured between my knees. "Why are you carrying it? Shouldn't you unpack it?"
"I did," I said. "It's just... I wanna give it to someone else."
Hunter had visibly relaxed, instead intrigued by the mystery I was giving him.
"You don't like it?" he asked, a deep frown set between his eyebrows. "What's wrong with it?"
I chuckled. Maybe it would be easier to just tell him. But then again, the mystery distracted him from the anxiety. And all I wanted when I was having a particularly bad episode, was a good distraction.
"It's perfect, actually. My father gave it to me, but it's one of those things you pass on to those you care about."
He nodded, seemingly starting to understand.
"You're not getting married, are you? It's not your grandparents' wedding rings or something crazy? How old are you again?"
I laughed, and he followed soon after. Only when he figured it was allowed, it seemed like. I could tell he was tense around me, it wasn't just the plane.
