Categories > Original > Romance
Pushing Me Away
0 reviews"I did the only thing I could do, Nicholas. I pushed you away. Believe me, it took everything in me to do it - but I had to." A Nick Jonas OneShot.
0Unrated
Nick adjusted the microphone, strumming his guitar. The song was written when he was only 13, and he was 15 now, but he was sure as hell that he loved her as much then as he did now. He shot a look at the girl in the corner, who was standing there playing with her SideKick, not even fazed by the lyrics that were being sung about her.
"All I wanted was you. Tell me, do you think of me now and then? 'Cause if I never see you again, I'll still miss you." He sang louder, walking over to the side of the stage, playing in her direction. About eight girls turned, looking at the girl, when one finally had the guts to say something.
"'Scuse me? Uh, I think Nick Jonas is singing to you." A girl said, pulling on April's shirt, pointing at Nick. She looked up and locked eyes with him for a moment, and then shrugged.
"He can sing his little heart out; it's not going to make things any better."
Nick slammed himself down on to the old, worn out tapestry couch, sitting there with his guitar on his lap. His eyes rested on his cell phone, lying on the coffee table across from him, and he pondered on whether he should call her up. His fingers were itching to make the call, but something inside him was saying 'No, Nicholas. You don't need her. She's only pushing you away.'
And that little voice inside of him? Your conscience or whatever it was called? It was right. He needed her to tell the truth. He didn't need her to push him away anymore.
Pushing him away? He slid open one of the drawers on the coffee table and grabbed his tattered black notebook and an eraserless pencil. He began scribbling lyrics onto the page, not stopping until he had filled the page with his thoughts that were being portrayed through his music.
Pushing me away
Every last word, every single thing you say
Pushing me away
Try to stop now, but it's already too late
If you really don't care then say it to my face
Pushing me away
Push, push, pushing me away.
"Nicholas?" He woke abruptly from the nap he was taking, rubbing his eyes.
"Nicholas, sweetie, are you down there?"
"Yeah, Mom." He said, the sleepiness in his voice noticeable. "I'm down here."
"Sweetie, April is here."
He sat up, his eyes wide, the soles of his bright green Converse hitting the plush carpet. Why the hell was April in his house? She hated him, ever since the night he had told her that he was touring. She hated him, ever since he had freaked out on her for being upset, and called her selfish and some other nasty things he probably shouldn't have said. She hated him, ever since he spoke the words that truly penetrated her heart, "I hope I never see you again."
"Uh, o-okay. Send her down, please." His voice squeaked, bracing himself for an unwanted speed bump in his life.
When he had spat those words at her, yeah, he had meant them. But as soon as he saw the tears fill her cornflower blue eyes and watched her storm out of his house, never to return again, he had regretted saying them.
The sound of her white ankle boots hitting the wood of his stairs made his head snap in her direction. She stood there before him, in a ruffled white mini-skirt with a brown tanktop. A denim vest was buttoned over the tank, and she had a white and brown headband in, with big earrings, long necklaces and plenty of brown and white bracelets adorning her wrists. Her dirty blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her hands were on her hips.
"Why'd you put me on the spot like that?" She hissed, her blue eyes narrowing.
"Put you on the spot like what?" Nick knew exactly what she meant. He preferred playing dumb.
"Singing that song to me? Nick, you hope you never see me again, remember?"
"April, stop using that as an excuse. That was a long time ago - we've both matured. I think you can get past what my dumb little 13 year old self said and give us another try. It wouldn't kill you."
"You're right - it wouldn't kill me. Because you already did." April replied, her blue eyes filling with tears. Nick had a sudden flashback to the last time she was in his house, and shook it away.
"What you said two years ago? Nick, that really hurt. You wouldn't know, though, because you don't feel emotion."
"I don't feel emotion?" He stood up, his voice shaking.
"I feel more emotion than you ever will. I've been singing every single song about you - and it makes me sick. You don't know what y-you've put me through."
"I did the only thing I could do, Nicholas. I pushed you away. Believe me, it took everything in me to do it - but I had to. You went away for two years, Nick. Two tears I had to sit here, by myself, wondering what you were doing, every single moment of every single day."
He grabbed her face in his hands, leaning in and kissing her. "I'm back, April." He kissed her again, her tears wetting his cheeks.
"I'm not going anywhere." He kissed her again.
"And if I do, you're coming with me." He kissed her once more, and smiled as he felt her kiss back.
"Don't worry, you don't have to push me away."
"All I wanted was you. Tell me, do you think of me now and then? 'Cause if I never see you again, I'll still miss you." He sang louder, walking over to the side of the stage, playing in her direction. About eight girls turned, looking at the girl, when one finally had the guts to say something.
"'Scuse me? Uh, I think Nick Jonas is singing to you." A girl said, pulling on April's shirt, pointing at Nick. She looked up and locked eyes with him for a moment, and then shrugged.
"He can sing his little heart out; it's not going to make things any better."
Nick slammed himself down on to the old, worn out tapestry couch, sitting there with his guitar on his lap. His eyes rested on his cell phone, lying on the coffee table across from him, and he pondered on whether he should call her up. His fingers were itching to make the call, but something inside him was saying 'No, Nicholas. You don't need her. She's only pushing you away.'
And that little voice inside of him? Your conscience or whatever it was called? It was right. He needed her to tell the truth. He didn't need her to push him away anymore.
Pushing him away? He slid open one of the drawers on the coffee table and grabbed his tattered black notebook and an eraserless pencil. He began scribbling lyrics onto the page, not stopping until he had filled the page with his thoughts that were being portrayed through his music.
Pushing me away
Every last word, every single thing you say
Pushing me away
Try to stop now, but it's already too late
If you really don't care then say it to my face
Pushing me away
Push, push, pushing me away.
"Nicholas?" He woke abruptly from the nap he was taking, rubbing his eyes.
"Nicholas, sweetie, are you down there?"
"Yeah, Mom." He said, the sleepiness in his voice noticeable. "I'm down here."
"Sweetie, April is here."
He sat up, his eyes wide, the soles of his bright green Converse hitting the plush carpet. Why the hell was April in his house? She hated him, ever since the night he had told her that he was touring. She hated him, ever since he had freaked out on her for being upset, and called her selfish and some other nasty things he probably shouldn't have said. She hated him, ever since he spoke the words that truly penetrated her heart, "I hope I never see you again."
"Uh, o-okay. Send her down, please." His voice squeaked, bracing himself for an unwanted speed bump in his life.
When he had spat those words at her, yeah, he had meant them. But as soon as he saw the tears fill her cornflower blue eyes and watched her storm out of his house, never to return again, he had regretted saying them.
The sound of her white ankle boots hitting the wood of his stairs made his head snap in her direction. She stood there before him, in a ruffled white mini-skirt with a brown tanktop. A denim vest was buttoned over the tank, and she had a white and brown headband in, with big earrings, long necklaces and plenty of brown and white bracelets adorning her wrists. Her dirty blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her hands were on her hips.
"Why'd you put me on the spot like that?" She hissed, her blue eyes narrowing.
"Put you on the spot like what?" Nick knew exactly what she meant. He preferred playing dumb.
"Singing that song to me? Nick, you hope you never see me again, remember?"
"April, stop using that as an excuse. That was a long time ago - we've both matured. I think you can get past what my dumb little 13 year old self said and give us another try. It wouldn't kill you."
"You're right - it wouldn't kill me. Because you already did." April replied, her blue eyes filling with tears. Nick had a sudden flashback to the last time she was in his house, and shook it away.
"What you said two years ago? Nick, that really hurt. You wouldn't know, though, because you don't feel emotion."
"I don't feel emotion?" He stood up, his voice shaking.
"I feel more emotion than you ever will. I've been singing every single song about you - and it makes me sick. You don't know what y-you've put me through."
"I did the only thing I could do, Nicholas. I pushed you away. Believe me, it took everything in me to do it - but I had to. You went away for two years, Nick. Two tears I had to sit here, by myself, wondering what you were doing, every single moment of every single day."
He grabbed her face in his hands, leaning in and kissing her. "I'm back, April." He kissed her again, her tears wetting his cheeks.
"I'm not going anywhere." He kissed her again.
"And if I do, you're coming with me." He kissed her once more, and smiled as he felt her kiss back.
"Don't worry, you don't have to push me away."
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