The Obscure Downsides of Fame (New Edition)

24 || surveillance

"About what?"

"Things. I should get ready," I said, leaving the bowl with cereal on the counter and walking away.

"Nolan," she said with a sigh. I continued walking through the hallway, and she followed after me, but I ignored her.

"Nolan Theodore Mullen," she said this time, notably more angry than a few seconds ago.

"I'm not a child anymore, you can't call me by my full name and expect me to answer."

"I want to help you, but you won't let me." I turned around immediately.

"When have you ever tried to help me? When have you ever listened to me? You were never really by there."

She was quiet, her eyes wide in shock, and then they narrowed on anger.

"I'm your mother. I raised you," she said, offended I even dared say such thing. Like I was supposed to praise her for being a good mother, when all she ever did was what parents were supposed to. She didn't deserve a pat on the back for that one. She didn't know I was gay, because she was never interested in my love life. She didn't know I had anxiety, because why my hair fell out in my earlier teen years didn't matter to her, as long as it got fixed. She didn't know what happened between Kylan and I, because I never felt like talking to her would help me.

"Since when do you care about being my mom? Aren't you too busy being my agent first?"

She was quiet at first, staring at me with pursed lips and furrowed brows, but just as I turned around to walk away, she spoke again.

"I'm driving you to and from work this week," she said, but I continued my way up the stairs. "We're leaving in thirty minutes."

I ignored her and I checked my phone first as I got to my room.

Oakley and I talked until far past midnight, but I knew he would still be asleep by now as his sound check didn't start until three.

I got ready for the day, taking a quick shower and wearing something easy. I collected everything I needed and went downstairs, where my mom was waiting in not the best of moods.

Once we sat in the car, she looked at me first, and she didn't seem like she was planning on driving at all.

"Sometimes it's like I don't even know you," she said.

I crossed my arms, sensing we'd probably be sitting here for a while.

"What do you want, Nolan?" she asked. "When you were little you said you wanted to be like your dad, so I made it happen. For you. And then you started acting up, and wanted to go to school, and I made than happen too. I told you you could go to college but you chose to get back into acting, and now it's like you're not taking it seriously at all. What do you want?"

"I am taking it seriously," I mumbled.

"It doesn't seem like you are. You aren't connecting with your cast mates, you're having arguments with Kylan, you try to avoid interviews. How are you taking it seriously?"

"I do my job. I act. I do what is asked of me. How is that not enough?"

"Being an actor is more than just acting, Nolan. You know this. I know you don't like to hear this, but you're a product."

I didn't feel like arguing, so I shut up.

"Is it just the money?" my mom asked me. "Because if it's about that, you know you could say the word and never have to work a day in your life again. Your dad and I will always help you financially."

"I like my job," I said. And the last thing I wanted for my life was to be financially dependent on my parents. "Can we look for something more meaningful next time?"