| CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
| what's your type

ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ

"Eyes on the road, Oakley," Nolan said, forcefully pushing my head toward the front of the car, and I laughed.

Things have been going perfectly for me lately.

"What's so funny?" he asked. I could tell he was annoyed, but he didn't want to show it.

"Sorry. I just like you so much," I said. I stopped at a red light, and took the moment of freedom to force his face toward me so I could kiss him. It was supposed to be a quick peck, but I missed him so much that I continued. Nolan didn't kiss me back though. He pushed my face away from him, and now the red light had turned green. I'd be lying if I said that didn't feel like a dagger straight through my chest.

"What's wrong? You've been acting off," he said. "Someone could've seen that and we'd be outed."

"Would that be so horrible?" I asked. "Fuck, I really want to prove to the world that you're mine, and no one else's."

I didn't think my words though. They just came out as I thought them.

"Are you being for real?" he asked. I felt his beautiful green eyes stare at the side of my head. He did that a lot lately, the staring.

"Do you think I'm attractive?" I asked him. I thought he was. He was beautiful in the way a piece of art was. He could've been a model for a renaissance painting, or an Ancient Greek statue, with his chiseled facial features and deep-set eyes with a certain wisdom to them. I loved the way his nose wiggled as he spoke—especially as he laughed—and I loved the way his soft, dirty blonde hair felt as I ran my fingers through it, and I loved the way it brought out the green in his eyes. He was looking exactly the way a movie star was supposed to: dreamy and unreal, yet very much here.

"Yes," was all he said. He'd told me I was beautiful. He couldn't stop saying it when he was drunk stumbling up my best friend's stairs. Yet now that he was sober, it was like he was avoiding having to call me any of that. I should've known it was plain drunk stupidity. "Now answer my question."

"Of course I'm being for real," I said with a huff. I was not ashamed of him.

"I want to, someday," he said. Someday. He wasn't lying, because he couldn't do that to save his life. "But I'm not ready."

I knew that. I also knew that it was too early to share. When I went public with my first girlfriend a few years back, we got a lot of questions about things even we weren't comfortable with yet. It's only been a month or two since Nolan and I started going out, even less since I could call him my boyfriend. Even though Nolan and I started out as friends, now was too early.

But god did I wish that things were different. I wanted us to get through this stage of liking and caring, straight to the loving. I wanted to fall in love with him, whatever that meant.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's too early anyway."

"No, I'm sorry. It's like I'm holding you back. I don't think that's fair."

"No, you're right. It's been three weeks. We need to fall in love first, and even then we need to find our rhythm. I will not lose you over wanting to prove that you're mine."

He was quiet and I felt his eyes on me, so for a split second I looked at him, and his face was a deep red.

"What do you think it means to be in love?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but I want to figure that out with you."

I smiled to myself. He would be my first love.

"Have you been in love before?" I asked, but I immediately regretted it. I knew I wouldn't be his first.

"I don't know," he said. "I thought I did, but in retrospect, I'm not sure anymore."

I knew he'd been in a bad relationship before, he briefly told me about his 'friend' before we started dating. I wanted to be a better boyfriend, one that showers him with kisses and consoles him when he's sad. Not someone he's afraid to turn to.

"You'll fall in love with me," I said in full confidence.

"Bold statement, Carrillo."

"What? You don't feel it happening yet?" I pouted at him.

"You're excruciating," he said, a smile secretly playing on his lips as silence took over. I couldn't handle the silence, though. I felt like I had to say something, because my thoughts were running a mile a minute and some of it was gonna have to get out. I had so much fucking energy and I didn't know how to dispose of it from a moving car in a way other than talking.

"So are these our little new traditions?" I asked, raising my brows. "Getting ice cream, hanging out in cute private spots, kissing a lot?"

"Would you mind it?"

"No," I answered honestly. I looked at him as his skin grew redder. He pushed some of his hair out of his face, revealing the greens of his eyes to me.

I turned on the radio. Nolan seemed to know what was happening before I even realized it. But the moment he turned up the volume, I knew what he was doing.

A million stars in the night sky,
none as bright as you

"No! Then that god-awful voice off!" I screeched over the loud noise. God did I hate this song. It was like I didn't even write it myself. It sounded like anyone could've written it. Well, anyone who wasn't me. Anyone else could've sung it and it would've done just as well.

You're too far away
This feeling's brand new
to me

I wish I could say that this was from a long time ago, but I'd be lying. This was released earlier this year, before the summer.

"You're definitely my star, Oakley."

"Fuck you!" I yelled.

Guiding me through the dark
Lighting up like a spark

Nolan outright laughed at me.

"How did I let them release this?" I yelled in a high-pitched voice. I turned the radio off completely so the only sound I could hear was Nolan's melodious laughter.

This. This sounded like heaven.

"I hate you," I mumbled.

"No you don't," he whispered. I glanced at him for no longer than a second, and we looked at each other with warm cheeks before turning back to the road.

•••

"Yeah I'm definitely dyeing it," I said as we sat down with our ice creams.

"What?"

"My hair. I'm bored of it." I'd been thinking about it for the larger part of two days now.

"But it's cute like this," he said, reaching over to pull at one of my curls.

"You know it can still do that once it's dyed, right? I should do something crazy and unexpected. Like... blue. Or pink. Green?"

"Don't do anything stupid to it, please," he whined, leaning back into his chair as he ate some more of his ice cream. "I'll never forgive you if you do."

"You seem to care more about my hair than about me," I said with narrowed eyes. He shrugged, biting his lip to contain his smile.

"It is what it is, babe," he said with an exaggerated wink.

"Call me that one more time and you're never getting anything chocolate ever again."

"Wow, that's a serious threat," he said, putting his hands in his hair. "How am I supposed to choose between such a dilemma?"

I stuck out my middle finger, and he laughed.

"You know what, I'll come up with something better. Something so personal you won't dare to deny that name."

"I challenge you," I said. "If I like it, I owe you... a box of Swiss chocolates from Switzerland. Like, I'll actually fly over."

"Okay," he said with a smirk. "My schedule doesn't allow me to fly to Europe for a bet, but what I can do is bake you five of your favorite types of cookies."

"That's unfair, you love baking anyway."

"Are you telling me you don't like Switzerland?"

"Touché. We have a deal." I slid my hand across the table so we could shake on it, but instead, he took my hand in his for a brief moment, watching my face the entire interaction. I felt my skin heating up, but he didn't notice.

•••

In the course of the next week, Hanna and I had decided on keeping the promotion thing on a low meet profile for now. I posted when her new single came out, and we made sure to get a few pictures at events together.

Today would be the first of those events. We were both nominated for an award show. I wasn't going to perform as my label didn't think I'd be reliable enough, but I didn't mind it. I was perfectly fine sitting at one of the tables, watching the other nominees on stage instead.

After my stylist dressed me in something they deemed appropriate, I got in the car. We were a few minutes ahead of schedule, so I got an idea.

"Wade, I can trust you, right?" I asked my driver. He wasn't much of a talker, so he just gave me a thumbs-up. Wade was amazing. Despite all the words I'd exchanged with my friends with Wade behind the wheel, not one of those things had ever been discussed outside the car.

So of course, after Wade's confirmation, I had him drive us to Nolan's place. I texted Nolan when I was outside, and he came out with a confused frown.

"Hi there, stranger."

"You look nice," he said, smiling through furrowed eyebrows. "But why are you here? Don't you have some event to attend?"

I'd called him ten minutes ago that I'd be in front of his house.

"I wanted to see you before claiming my meaningless prizes," I said, shrugging. I slowly grabbed his hand, and I couldn't fucking stop smiling like a lunatic.

It would've been perfect if I could've taken him with me. But I couldn't, so the least I could do was kiss him and thank him before claiming the awards I'd inevitably win.

"Oakley, I like you a lot, but you get confusing sometimes," he said, this time a very timid smile playing on his lips. "You're okay, right?"

"I'm more than okay, Nolan," I said, and then I kissed him. Though I didn't miss the way his eyes shot to the car for a flash of a second before he looked down at the floor.

"Wade's cool. Never says anything. I'm not even sure I know what he sounds like, actually." I giggled at the thought. I remember the first time I heard him speak. It was when I took my sister to an event similar to this, but we couldn't stop fighting in the backseat.

"You should probably go. You're running late," Nolan said, playing with my fingers. "I love the hair too, by the way," he added, the cool greys of his eyes meeting the warm browns of mine again. I told the hairdresser to do whatever she wanted, and she didn't think a fun color would suit me, so she just added highlights and clipped some off the sides. Only after me begging her did she decide to add a maroon undertone.

"Hm, really?" I asked. "What do you like in guys? Like, what's your type?"

"My taste has evolved a lot over the years," he said with a shrug and a grin. "I think I have now curated my type perfectly, though."

"What is it?" I asked, curious to know how close I were to it.

"They'll have to be kind, first of all. Considerate, compassionate, and they need to be the type to light up the room wherever they go." He let go of my hand, raising his hands to my cheek, and I closed my eyes. His hands were warm and soft. I don't want to go.

"They should be affectionate, to balance me out, you know? They should love hugs and kisses, almost like an addiction. They should be about my height, with deep, doe brown eyes. Pretty, shiny, bouncy curls..."

I opened my eyes and smiled, finally realizing what he was doing.

"...and an addictive smile that should reveal a dimple in their cheek."

I laughed, taking his hands so I could hold them again, and so that I could lean my forehead against his.

"Do I fall under that category?" I asked.

He breathed out some air through his nose with a smile, and he kissed me.

"I thought I was the cheesy one with nice words."

"I only learn from the best," he said.

I hugged him one last time. "If I show up on the red carpet with puffy eyes, that's your fault," I told him as the tears were welling up in my eyes.

We both jumped at the sound of the car horn. I was about to run late.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming!" I yelled, pressing one last kiss on Nolan's lips.

"Oakley!" Nolan warned, but my lips were still pressed against his.

"Shush. You're ruining it," I said, a huge smile on my face. I kissed him again.

"You're gonna be late," Nolan said softly as I pulled away, our hands still clasped together.

"I don't care." And just to accentuate my point, I kissed him again.

"Now go!" he said, pushing me away lightly.

I watched him as we drove away, the entire time he stood outside until he was out of sight. My entire mood shifted the further away we got.

I was falling so fucking hard, and I honestly didn't mind.

•••

The awards were rigged. They had to be. I was expecting to win Best Series of Work, because even though the songs I released this year weren't exactly the way I wanted them to be, they still fit together like pieces of a puzzle perfectly. But I also won Best Single of the Year, which was utter bullshit, especially since it was a song from earlier this year which I didn't even like the lyrics from. Gen should've won this one, or literally anyone else.

"It's bullshit!" I yelled over the loud thumping of the music as I walked back from my seat after accepting the award. "I mean, I don't even remember writing that song! It's so goddamn immemorable that I don't even remember writing it! I literally wrote it one day at like two in the morning because I had this annoying ass melody on my head and now that annoying ass fucking memory made me win!"

"I hear you, Oakley," Hanna said, placing her hands over her ears. "Are you drunk?"

"What? No!"

"High?"

"No! It's just unfair."

"So you're not drunk or high?

"Did you not hear me the first time?"

"Chill," she said. "I'm just asking because you've been acting weird all night and the only time I've seen you act like this is when you're drunk."

"Act like what?" I was feeling fine. Better than fine, even. It was like I'd had my first good night's sleep in my life and I woke up to a whole new clarity. Colors were brighter, music was more emotional, and I had this newfound energy I hadn't felt since my first world tour. It seemed normal to me considering I finally had a future again.

"It's hard to describe. You're not being yourself."

"Well maybe I finally am being myself," I said, rolling my eyes. That would've been a way more accurate assumption to make. I'm not drunk, I'm not high.

I thought it was the end of the conversation until she butter in again.

"You came in late. You're never late. You barely posed for pictures because you were too busy talking to everyone. Your acceptance speech was so quick I could barely understand a thing you were saying. I know you, Oakley. You're acting weird."

"I'm not acting weird!" I said, turning back to her. "I'm just finally happy again, okay? You're just used to seeing me depressed because I was miserable the entire fucking time we were together."

I watched her eyes fill up with tears, and she turned around to face the stage again, watching as Isla Barnette welcomed GEN! to the stage. Hanna kept her chin up so her tears wouldn't ruin her makeup.

I didn't intend to make her cry, but I quickly forgot about it as my best friend arose from the stage floor, singing her best song.

•••

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I recently updated the original because I never actually write an ending.

Also, please share this story so I can hit 1k reads soon, I'm getting pretty close🫣

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! I hope this chapter satisfied your needs 😌 if it did, please vote <3

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