Nick Jonas One Shot "Birthday Wishes" (Part 1)

"Happy Birthday, Marty!" My mom sang as she sat the fifteen pound, double chocolaty center cake down in front of me on the dining room table. The cake looked absolutely delicious, but I couldnt find an appetite to eat it. The cake was very intricately designed as my mom is a cake designer I would know why. It was rectangular and iced from the bottom all the way to the top of the humungous pastry. I admired the guitar shaped emblem rising from the cake. Ive always wanted to be a guitarist since I was age five. The frosting on it was black and white just like the one I have sitting all alone up in my room. I havent played it since January, which was two months ago. Every time Id try Id remember him sitting by my side playing along with me. He would always teach me better techniques on how to strum every song I worked on. I wouldnt dare even look at the song that we wrote together, for I would break down and cry. I know its been two months since it happened, but I cant seem to forget him. My vision started to blur as I drifted back to my birthday cake, trying to let his face fade away into my mind until I was up in my warm soft bed all alone. I shifted my eyes from the guitar to the candles which sat comfortably on my frosting flickering away. "Go on, Marty blow out your candles." I look up to my mom to see a toothy grin spread across her face. I know its just a cover up for the sadness shes holding in until tonight. I know she misses him like I do. She cant fool me. I can see her tear stained cheeks from all the way across the table where she sits ready for me to smile so she wouldnt have to anymore. I sit still gazing into the flame of the candles. I cant seem to blow them out. It hurts too badly. He surprised me two months ago with a very early birthday present. Now, I cant forget it. Then, all of a sudden I draw in a sharp breath, but instead of blowing out the candles I cry. Tears spill out from my eyes onto my cheeks which drip down onto my lap making tiny droplets form onto my new daisy duke shorts. I heave in another breath and sob uncontrollably as I bury my head into my hands. Its the only thing I could think of doing at the moment. I hear my moms chair screech across the linoleum flooring as she gets up and hurries over to me. "Oh, baby I know. I miss him too..." She sympathizes. I quickly lift my head from my hands and turned my stare to her. I bet I looked horrible. My nose was running uncontrollably and so were my tears. I kept swiping them back with the back of my hand. "Not as much as me!" I wailed, "I loved him mom! I loved him! Its not fair, its not fair Who would ever do that to such a sweet guy?!" At that exact moment I saw for the first time in my whole sixteen years of living with her, my mom cry. Her tears flew. They streamed down her face onto her new blouse. I started feeling sorry for her, but I felt the same way. Why did it have to be him? I loved him! My hot tears dripped slowly down my very pale cheeks, for I havent been out in the sun since that day. My mom was now hunched over dry-heaving. Her hands cupped her face as she wailed with me. I didnt know what else to do since Im only sixteen. So, the only thing I thought of to do was to run into my room like a little girl. As you can see I did. I forcingly pushed my chair back from the table and passed my mom on my way to the bedroom. I stumbled a few times on the wooden stairs, but finally burst into my room slamming the door behind me. It felt more private here since it was my room and not the kitchen where my mom was crying too. Everything in my colorful room reminded me of him, the guitar that sat in the corner all alone, the songs which are pinned to my purple painted walls, and most importantly the picture which still stands perfectly on its frame staring back at me with its mosaic features. I havent looked at that picture since the day it happened. Ive been too afraid Ill break down and cry but since Im already sobbing what the heck. I slowly creep toward the picture. Not daring to take my eyes off of it. I get over to my wooden desk and stare completely silent afraid to pick it up. After about ten minutes of gazing into the pictures features I grip the side of the gold plated frame and pull it up to me. The picture floods my mind of the night this was taken:

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• Jonas Brothers
• Nick Jonas
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• Nick Jonas Love Story
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