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“What are you doing?” Charlie looks up from his sketch, smiling softly at the boy in front of him. “I’m looking at you,” Nick replies cooly, head tilting towards the other with the same smile that never failed to make Charlie’s heart quicken. Nevertheless, he dismisses Nick, rolling his eyes jokingly before looking back at his sketch. “I mean, what do you intend to do?” Charlie asks, shading a small part of Nick’s suit from his drawing. “With life?” The blonde’s eyes widen, mildly shaken by the question; he hears Charlie chuckle as his head shakes. “Yes.” the latter answers, not looking up from the charcoal figure on his canvas. “I’ve been writing an opera; that’ll be the central figure,” Nick answered with a huff, quite satisfied with his answer; his mouth hung open when he heard Charlie, “That’s a waste of time,” he said, not paying much attention to the boy in front of him.
“What would you have me do?” Nick laid on the soft cloth that Charlie had laid out on the grass when they first arrived at the garden, eyes trained on the curly haired-boy who wore the bright smile he always adored. Charlie thought about what he was to say, ultimately stating what everyone had expected of Nick “Go and work for your grandfather and make something of yourself.” it was unfair on Nick’s part. Charlie knows that, but then again, Charlie never really did understand why Nick was so adamant about not following his grandfather’s footsteps. He had spent his entire life practising that craft. Nick laughs lightly, shaking his head towards the other as he stands. “You’re not playing fair.” The words were harsh, but the tone seemed deluded.
Charlie lets out a real laugh, unlike those restrained laughs he’s trained to do his entire life. “Here,” he said, standing up to give Nick the finished product of his quick sketching. The word caused the blonde to smile as he graciously accepted the wooden clipboard from the other. Since they were little, or at least when they met, Charlie had always been quite the artist. That’s all he wanted to do in his life, a poor choice on his part, knowing arts were still quite prejudiced in society (unless you were exceedingly talented at all forms of art). still, he admired Charlie’s work, often the subject much like now. “ Oh wow, that’s…that’s very good.” He says, genuinely blown away from the talent that Charlie just bestowed upon him. He was about to return the clipboard when he saw the yellowed page at the back; it was a drawing of Nick in his signature silk vest, bell sleeves clashing with the wind. He seemed to be in deep thought in the drawing.
“When did you do this one?” He raised the yellowed paper towards the other, who shook his head lightly. “ It was the day at the beach…first time I met Ben.” Nick’s blood ran cold with the name, completely forgetting that Charlie was soon to marry Ben Hope. Ben is one of the more esteemed bachelors in London, exceedingly rich and attractive; papers declared him one of the youngest business people in Europe, taking after his father’s business. Although Nick knew to look behind the exterior, he was well-versed in who Ben Hope was. Despite what the papers say, the truth was Ben was no more than a selfish, spoiled little man. He remembered the day like yesterday; Nick was forced to bring him. (his grandfather’s orders) Nick and Charlie weren’t half as close as they were now, back then. The blonde often being seen alongside Tara, one of Charlie’s close friends. Maybe that’s how he never came to notice that Charlie had taken an interest in Ben; perhaps if he did, then they wouldn’t be in this position.
Nick cleared his throat, nodding to Charlie. “That’s right….” He trailed off, placing the paper back into the clipboard as he gave it back to the other. “What’s he doing?” He cursed himself for asking, clearly not wanting anything to do with the brunette. Still, Charlie smiled, accepting the wooden board and twisting a charcoal piece between his fingers. “He’s in London on business; he’ll be back in a few weeks.” The other states, returning his attention to the rough sketch. Charlie overlooks the way Nick’s expression shifts into one of deep thought. The blonde turns away from Charlie briefly before turning back, a stoic expression decorating his face. Still, Charlie misses it, concentrating on the details of his latest artwork.
“Don’t marry him.”
The words come out like poison from Nick’s mouth. He didn’t even know why he said it. Charlie was happy and visibly so. On the other hand, the words strike Charlie like daggers, his mind muddling as he turns toward the blonde. “What?” Charlie’s eyebrows were knit together, clearly seeking clarification from the other. The three words were hushed and quick, yet Charlie’s mind was already drowning. “Don’t marry him,” Nick voices, stepping towards the other whose fingers were tensing around the wooden clipboard he was holding. “Why?” It was accusatory. Nick was too caught up in his mind to register the tone. “Why? You know why….” Nick said as if it was already a known fact, hand outstretched towards Charlie, whose face was entirely unreadable. It takes a few moments for everything to click in Charlie’s mind backing away as he realises. “No…no.” The words were firm, and everything seemed final, but Nick wouldn’t let Charlie slip. Not again.
“Yes….” His voice was soft, pleading. It was a tone Charlie had never heard before. He felt Nick touch his forearm. In reaction, he flinches back, shaking his head, unable to stomach what was happening. “No, Nick?” Charlie tilts his head in disbelief, all this time he spent watching the blonde pine over his friend, and when he finally moves on, Nick manages to include himself in the situation again. “What?” The simple word rang throughout Charlie’s head like a church bell on Sunday morning. “You’re being mean.” He finally says, watching as Nick’s face morphs into one of disbelief. “What? What do you mean I’m being mea-” The blonde wasn’t able to finish his sentence when the other pulled up his hand, dirtied with charcoal. “Stop. Stop it….” A pause.
“I have been second to Tara my whole life, in everything, and I will not be the person you settle for just because you cannot have her…I won’t- I won’t do it.” Charlie knew he sounded pitiful; Tara had always been far superior to him, right from when their little group met. Nick has always preferred Tara. Charlie remembers all the times he was excluded from social events just because Nick invited his friend instead of him. He remembers feeling immense jealousy when he burned Tara’s manuscript and the guilt and slight pride swirling in his system when the other found out what he had done. And quite frankly, Charlie refuses to relive those moments when Ben was waiting for him. He refuses to believe Nicholas Nelson could love him without comparing him to Tara Jones. After what felt like an eternity, Charlie finally opened his mouth again, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, as he shook his head sadly.
“…I won’t, not when I’ve spent my entire life loving you.”
The words left Nick stunned, unable to muster a single word as Charlie dropped his clipboard, running away with his face covering his mouth, holding back his sobs. Nick’s own eyes struggled to prevent the flow of tears, and he closed his eyes tightly, holding back every urge to follow Charlie. The blonde was angry with himself for failing to see what was in front of him this entire time. Nick’s head felt heavy as he picked up the abandoned clipboard, his mind spiralling as his fingers gently dragged across the yellowed page. Charlie loved me.