The Obscure Downsides of Fame

22 || an organized mess

"Who is he anyway?" Kylan asked, ignoring everything I'd said.

I watched him for a moment, but he only flared his nostrils and he breathed out the air in his lungs.

"Bye, Kylan," I said, collecting my last stuff from the trailer and walking out the door.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to come off that way. I'm asking as a friend. Come on. What does he look like? What's his name? I won't tell."

"You want to talk?" I asked him. "Then let's talk." I turned back around and opened the door to my trailer. Kylan looked at me, but didn't move.

"What?" he asked.

"Let's talk," I repeated.

He walked right in, his hands pushed into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is it your dad again?"

"What? No," I said, shaking my head. I didn't really care about what my dad was doing anymore. And even if there was an issue, Kylan would be the last person I'd discuss it with at this point. "This is about you. And a little bit of me."

"Then what's wrong? We're on good terms now, right?"

I didn't get enough time to think of my reply.

"Right?" he repeated, pressing a little harder.

"I want to be civil," I told him. "But I don't see us being friends working out."

"We are civil," he said. "We're cool. You said so yourself."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I trust you."

"You broke things off with me at my worst moment. How come you're the one having issues trusting me?"

"Fuck it. Whatever," I said. "I'm fine being where we're at." This wasn't worth having an argument over.

"You're fine with constantly looking for something to pick a fight over?"

"I didn't say that. I said we're civil and I'm fine with that."

"I just told you how you left me to deal with some serious issues by myself, and your only response is 'fuck it'? Because if it's gonna be like that, I don't think being civil is written in the stars for us."

"That's not what I—"

"I have ears, Nolan. Do you even care about what happened to me after you left me?"

It wasn't what I meant. I knew it wasn't what I meant. I cared. He made sure I did, sending me texts that something happened and I needed to come back, but I never did since I knew it was all just a trick to get me to be his secret again.

I didn't not care. I tried too hard not to, but it ended up hurting us both. But maybe it was easier for me to heal.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

"Sure you didn't," he said with a scoff. "I thought you loved me. You said so yourself."

"I— I did. I never lied."