Holding on

Chapter 3

Nicholas' POV

I was at the club with my friends on the dance floor when someone bumped into me. I looked around and saw her turn to face me. I realized it was Blare. She looked gorgeous—her hair, her face, her outfit; she looked like a goddess. But she looked at me like she didn't realize who I was.

"Blare, what are you doing here?" I asked her. I always come to this club, but it was my first time seeing her here.

Her eyes widened. "Oh,Nicholas !" she said.

I smiled. "You're here!" she exclaimed, clearly drunk but looking cute.

"You're very drunk," I said.

"I am not," she replied.

"You are," I insisted.

"I said I'm not," she said, a little grumpy. Her face turned red as she frowned. She looked so cute, but I controlled myself.

"Okay, okay, you're not," I said jokingly, and then she smiled. God, that smile drove me crazy, but I had to pull myself together. I just met her. I smiled back. Then her friend held her hand and pulled her away.

"Byeeee!" she said.

"Bye," I said back, smiling. God, she was cute. I went back to my friends.

"I'm back," I said.

"Finally, dude," Nathan said (my best friend). I sat next to him.

"So, who was that girl?" Nathan asked.

"Just someone I met," I said.

"She's gorgeous. Can you hook me up with her?" he asked.

"No," I said blankly.

"Why?" he asked.

"You're not her type," I said.

"You like her, don't you?" he said.

I just looked at her from a distance. "I don't," I said blankly. Nathan rolled his eyes.

"Sure."

Timeskip
September 3 2023
I woke up and groaned. I was tired as shit. I tried to get up but couldn't. Last night was a blur; I couldn't remember anything. I sighed, got up, and went to shower in ice-cold water. I got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist, walked to my closet, and put on sweatpants and a T-shirt. I walked downstairs and saw my father on the couch, mad, reading a newspaper. My father looked at me.

"Come here now," he said angrily.

I went over to him. He stood up.

"I told you to delete the pictures of us ONLINE!" he yelled.

"I did, Father," I said, my head down, looking at my feet.

"THE F**KING FBI FOUND ONE!" He threw the newspaper at me hard. "CAN'T YOU DO SOMETHING RIGHT?!" he yelled again.

"Sorry, Father," I said as the newspaper left a paper cut on my face.

"SORRY ISN'T GOING TO CUT IT!" he yelled again. He held my face hard. "Fix the mess you caused," he said, pushing my face away. He sat down and drank some whiskey.

"Yes, Father," I said. I went up to my room, closed the door, and sighed. I called someone to take the pictures down and ended the call. I grabbed a bandage and put it on the paper cut. I took off my T-shirt and applied some cream to my scars.

"Great way to start the day," I mumbled and sighed. After putting my shirt back on, I decided to text Blare.

"Good morning," I texted and waited for her reply. After a couple of minutes, she replied.

"Who is this?" she texted.

"It's me, Nicholas," I texted back.

"Oh, hi Nicholas, how are you?" she texted.

"Good, you?" I texted.

"Me too," she texted back.

"What are you doing today?" I texted.

"Nothing, why?" she texted.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out," I texted.

"Sure," she texted.

"Meet me at the park down the street at 5:30 p.m.," I texted.

"See you there," she texted.

"You too," I texted back, then closed my phone.

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