| CHAPTER THREE
| sarcasm
ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ
When Trisha and I first got to the studio they were shooting at, she frowned.
"It's all white," she said. "I wonder what she's gonna do with all this."
"Probably the symbolism. She's been doing that a lot lately."
Trisha shrugged. "I'm gonna go see if I can trick the make-up artist to do mine."
"Just so you can mess it up at the chocolate fountain Gen minutes later?"
"I'm fifteen, Oakley. Not five. I know how to handle the chocolate fountain."
"Sure," I said, rolling my eyes. "Let them fix your hair too. You look terrible."
She punched me in the arm before leaving.
It wasn't long before Gen found me. "Oakley," she said, appearing behind me. I turned around and smiled. She was wearing all white too, which was kind of interesting. She actually never wore white willingly. She thought it was too bland.
"Hey," I said, opening my arms so I could hug her.
"You've been gone for ages! How was your tour?"
"It was alright," I told her.
She was quiet for a little bit longer than usual, and when she pulled away from the hug I could tell by the look on her face something was up. It took me a while to remember what it could possibly be about, since the incident was quite early into the tour.
"Danny told you, didn't he?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I said. "Don't worry, alright?"
"You do remember what I told you about Stellar Records, right? Drop them as soon as you can."
"I will. I have to wait until at least February next year, and even then I don't think it'll be a clean break. I talked to Mason and he—"
"He's still your manager?"
"Yeah, he's in the contract with Stellar," I told her. "I can't drop him until the contract with Stellar ends."
"I hate that man," she admitted. "But Stellar and Mason aside, take better care of yourself. Go see a doctor about what happened so you can get proper treatment."
"I don't need treatment," I said. "I was just a little stressed out and I got a little high."
"Most people don't end up in the hospital for a little weed, Oakley."
"Well, I did. Now I know it's not for me. I'm fine."
"You were being monitored for a week."
"And that week is now over. Can we please just let it go now?"
"Do you realize how lucky you are to get back to normal? Did the doctors in Amsterdam tell you?"
They told me to talk to a psychiatrist as soon as I got back to California. In fact, they preferred it if I got on the earliest flight back, but Stellar didn't want me to cancel the remainder of the tour. I also didn't want to disappoint anyone or worry my parents, and I was feeling better already. Even now, months later, things were still normal. I was sure I was gonna be fine.
"If anything happens, I promise you the first thing I'll do is call my doctor, alright?"
"Fine," she said. "How is your sister? The last time I talked to her she seemed a little down."
"She's tricking the makeup artist to do her makeup. And I told her to fix her hair as well, so it'll probably take a while."
Gen's name was called from somewhere around the white backdrop.
"I gotta get back, I'll see you later, right?"
"Yeah," I said, watching her walk back to the rest of the group. They were already filming part of the dance, and just seeing all that made me hungry.
I looked over at the crafty, and there was only one person standing there, fumbling with an apple in their hand. It wasn't until he started looking around and turned his face in my direction that I recognized him as a well known actor. I walked toward him, as he was still fumbling with the apple until I asked him, "You still gonna eat that?"
He seemed surprised by my sudden appearance, and quickly started explaining himself as to why he wasn't eating the apple he'd just grabbed. Maybe I had scared him a little, even.
"Hey, it's fine. I just saw you fumbling with it and I wanted one too," I told him with a smile. "If you're not really hungry, I'll just take it."
I held out my hand and slowly handed me the apple. His face had turned a deep red in the process, and he seemed stuck in thoughts with his narrowed eyes and his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Are you good? You kinda look like you're reevaluating all your past life choices."
I bit into the apple. It was the perfect kind of apple, sweet and sour with a good bite.
"I am," he said. "Fine, I mean. I'm fine. Not... reevaluating my life choices." He had a little bit of a stutter, which I hadn't expected. I couldn't help but laugh at him trying to explain himself once again, but his face had turned a little more red as he stuck out his hand. "I'm Nolan."
Right as the words left his lips, his name was called. He looked at where his name was being called from, and quickly back at me.
"Nice to meet you, Nolan."
He walked away quickly. Maybe he didn't like me as much, but I honestly didn't care enough to make it a big deal. I had bigger things to worry about.
I turned back around, and upon doing so, I found my sister dipping some strawberries in the chocolate fountain, some of the chocolate running down her fingers as she tried to catch it with a plate.
"What?" she asked.
I just shook my head and I took another bite of the apple.
•••
Trisha decided the next day that she wanted more chocolate, so we went back to the studio where Gen had already started filming another portion of her music video.
"Can you drive me to the movie theater afterwards?" she asked.
"Why?"
"I'm going out with friends."
"But it's seven already," I told her. "There's no way mom and dad are gonna let you out past eight."
"I'll be fine. We'll be at the movie theater the entire time, and I'll be back by ten. Molly has a car."
"I don't like Molly. Does she even have a license? I thought she was fifteen."
"She just turned sixteen, which is why we're going to watch a movie. Please, Oakley?"
"Fine, but if mom and dad tell me you're not allowed, I'll pick you up right away. I don't care if the movie is finished or not."
"Yay!" she exclaimed, hugging me briefly. "You're the best brother ever!"
"I know," I told her.
"Okay, wait for me. I'm gonna let them do my makeup and hair again." She practically skipped away like a child. I sat down on a random chair and watched as they were filming another dance portion of the video.
The dance was different from what I was used to from Gen. It was robotic and honestly a little boring, but if there was one thing I learned about her, it would be to never question her choices.
My phone started vibrating in my pocket about halfway through what I believed was the chorus. I checked it, only to notice a bunch of missed calls and messages from Mason. I left the room, opening a bunch of doors until I finally found the bathroom.
"Mason?"
"I've been talking with the people at Stellar, and they really want you to write a romantic storyline for your next project. I know how you feel about love songs, but this would be a fun and new experience for you."
"You know that's the only thing I will not write about." Even if I wanted to, I was terrible at it. I didn't want to bring my quality of writing down.
"I don't think you understand how it will help tremendously with your image. You have become too unattainable to your fans. You're too reserved, too private. We need to give them something they can relate to."
"Do you remember those ones I wrote and they rejected them?"
"You were sixteen. You hadn't fallen in love yet."
"Yeah, and I still haven't. Nothing's changed. And nothing is going to change within a month. You're gonna have to come up with a better plan."
"You've had girlfriends. Write about that experience. I promise you if you can do that, you'll have a hit. Multiple, even."
"And what if I don't?"
"Just try. If it doesn't work out, call me up and we'll think of something else."
I groaned. There had to be something else I could write about.
"Whatever. I'll see what I can do." I hung up the phone and turned around to get back inside, and right as I opened the door, someone stood right there.
"Holy shit, you okay?" I asked upon seeing Nolan with blood running down his forehead. "Did I hit you?"
His subtle dislike must've turned to absolute hatred by now.
"Yeah. I- it's not real. Don't worry," he said. Though I wasn't sure that was true from the tears running down his cheeks as well. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to walk past me.
"Are you good, though?" I asked. It was none of my business and I was well aware of that. I didn't usually try to bother people too much, but he didn't look fine. Whether it was because I hit him in the head with a door, because he already didn't like me, or because of something else.
He turned back around to face me. "I'm fine." His voice was steady, and almost convincing. "Really. I think your sister was looking for you."
"Okay," I said. If he really was going through something he probably didn't want a stranger around. "Is your head really okay, though?" I needed to ask just to be sure.
He didn't say anything, but his eyes had turned glossier and it was almost like he froze.
Maybe I shouldn't have pressed it?
He looked away and lost his balance, almost hitting his head again, except this time it would've been on the wall if he hadn't caught himself by holding onto the sink next to him tightly.
I held onto his arm, opening the one window on the opposite side of the door to give him some fresh air. "Hey, it's okay. Do you need anything? I can help," I offered.
"I'm fine. Just... Uhm... asthma."
"Do you have an inhaler? I can get it for you."
"No! No." He shook his head vigorously.
"Are you sure, because—"
"I'll be fine!" He snapped at me. He sat down on the floor, curling himself up in the corner. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"You don't have to apologize," I said. He wasn't having an asthma attack. He was actually hyperventilating. His hands were shaking. I finally realized he was having a panic attack. "I don't think you're doing okay."
I mentally slapped myself for even saying that. He was very much aware.
"I was fine," he said. "Nothing happened I don't know..."
"Hey, you'll be okay," I reassured him, sitting down next to him so I didn't have to look down on him. He flinched a little as I did, but he didn't say anything. "I think you're just having a panic attack. It's okay."
"I wasn't... I was fine," he repeated. He held his breath, letting it out slowly, but shakily, but it slowly became faster and faster until he was back to hyperventilating.
"Can you look at me?" I touched his arm lightly. But he flinched away. "I need you to look at me. I'm not judging you, alright?"
He slowly lifted his head, looking at me timidly. His face was all red, and I could feel his body heat from here next to him. The eye contact only lasted for a fraction of a second before he buried himself again.
"Do you think you can at least take my hand?"
He didn't say anything, so I tried touching his arm again. This time a little more gentle as I tapped him before resting my hand on his wrist. He didn't flinch away this time. A faint smile spread on my face at my small victory, and I took a deep, exaggerated breath.
He looked up again, only now noticing my hand on his wrist. But he followed my lead, taking a deep breath and holding it.
Then I breathed out, and he did the same. It was shaky, but it was there.
We repeated this process a few times until he calmed down. His breath was still irregular, but in a calm tempo. His muscles relaxed slightly. We sat in the silence for a few more minutes until he spoke again.
"I'm so sorry," he said. He kept repeating it, like he did anything wrong.
"Don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong."
"I'm s- sorry. Shit, I mean... it's the role. I think I got caught up in the character," he said, but he didn't meet my eyes. He refused to look at me, and his hands were still shaking. He was clearly still anxious, because I certainly wasn't buying the 'caught up in my character' bullshit. However, since his breathing was going up again, I decided not to mention it.
"It's fine," I said. "I'm Oakley, by the way." I decided that maybe a distraction might help him better than making him replay the last ten minutes over and over again. "I don't remember introducing myself."
"Oh, okay," he said. "I'm sorry," he repeated. I ignored it this time.
"I'm sorry for hitting you in the head with the door, by the way. People used to say I take up too much space wherever I go, which is ironic because I've actually always been a little underweight."
It was like he just completely stopped breathing as I started voicing my train of thought, though he didn't seem to mind my idiocy. Either he didn't mind, or he just kept quiet because he was trying to ignore me. But I didn't want him to get lost in his thoughts again.
"So, tell me about yourself. I know your name and I know you're an actor, but like, where do I know you from exactly? Because I can't really put my finger on it."
"Probably tv," he replied. He actually responded a little quicker than expected, so maybe he was listening to me after all.
"What was that? Sarcasm?" I smiled at the fact that he just made a joke, which I saw as an indication that he was doing a little better.
"More like satire." He sounded tired, but a very faint smile seemed to tug at the corners of his lips as he turned his head to face me. If I wasn't actively looking for it, I might've missed it.
"Three words in a row. Is that the most I'm gonna get from you?"
"Probably."
I couldn't help but smile.
"You know, that really hurts my feelings."
He looked at me, the green of his eyes looking brighter as the skin around them had turned slightly red. "That was sarcasm."
I grinned as his breathing started to slow down.
"It looks like you're doing better already," I commented.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm sorry."
He was still shaking just a bit, but it was definitely a lot less than before.
"It wasn't your fault," I told him. "It happens."
"Oh. Well, thank you then, I guess," he said.
"It's fine. Sometimes I do this with fans at meet and greets." I admitted. I'd helped more people through panic attacks than I could count. This wasn't new to me.
"Just for the record, I'm not a fan," he clarified jokingly, but we both ended up chuckling just the tiniest bit.
"Yeah, I figured."
He slowly got to his feet and I also got up myself.
"Oh, are you okay, by the way?" he asked, staring down at his feet. "You sounded a little frustrated on the phone. I promise I didn't eavesdrop. I just kinda overheard I guess. If you don't want to talk about it that's— I mean we don't really know each other so..."
"Just some work stuff with my label," I said. He looked at me and I could tell he was ready to apologize again. "It's nothing major. Just a difference in creative opinion, I guess."
"So what are you gonna do? Ignore their advice?"
"I mean, I feel like I kinda have to listen to them, you know? They probably know what's best."
He shook his head. "Don't do it."
"But..."
"They're gonna keep asking more and more of you. It's not worth it."
"You sound almost like you're speaking from experience," I said.
"Yeah, I guess," he said, a dark tone in his voice. "I should probably go back inside. Thank you," he spoke in a low voice.
"Thank you. For your advice, I mean."
He just nodded in acknowledgment and left. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath for so long, but I finally let it out.
The door opened once again, revealing one of Gen's dancers.
"Hi," he said. "I think your sister is looking for you?"
"Right. Thanks," I said, before finally leaving.
| AUTHOR'S NOTE
Just wanted to say hi ;)
Schedule is doing pretty well so far, I'll hope I'll keep it up...
If you enjoyed this chapter, please don't forget to vote! 🤩
Byeee