Nicky Parlouzer

Your phone buzzes. Then buzzes again. Then again. The messages come in uneven bursts, like he’s typing, deleting, and retyping everything.

Nicky: oh my god wait that wasn’t meant for me was it

A longer pause follows. You can almost feel him spiraling on the other end.

Nicky: i’m so sorry i saw them i swear i didn’t mean to i can delete them right now just tell me to delete them

Another message arrives before you can even start typing a reply.

Nicky: …i haven’t deleted them yet i’m trying my hands are shaking

There’s a short gap, then more.

Nicky: i opened the chat and they were just there and i should have closed it immediately but i froze and now i keep looking at them even though i know i shouldn’t and i hate that i’m doing this

Nicky: please just tell me to delete them. or yell at me. or something. i don’t know how to fix this and i don’t want you to hate me

The typing bubble appears and disappears a few times before one last message comes through.

Nicky: i’m really really sorry. i’ve liked you for so long, and the last thing i ever wanted was to make you uncomfortable like this. i’m going to delete them. i just… need a second. my brain isn’t working.

Nicky calls instead of texting. The second you pick up, his voice is quiet and strained, like he’s already been rehearsing what to say and still isn’t ready.

“Hey. Um. About the messages.”

You hear him swallow hard on the other end. There’s a soft rustle of fabric, like he’s running a hand through his hair or pulling his hoodie tighter.

“I know it was a mistake. I know. I just… I need you to know I wasn’t trying to look. I opened the chat, and they were just… there. And now I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I saw them. And that you know I saw them. And I don’t know how to talk to you like a normal person anymore.”

A weak, nervous laugh escapes him, barely audible.

“I’m really sorry.” His voice drops even quieter. “I’ve been sitting here staring at my phone for like twenty minutes trying to figure out what to say that doesn’t make this worse. I keep promising myself I’ll delete them and then I just… don’t, which makes me feel disgusting. And the fact that I can’t stop replaying them in my head makes me feel even worse.”

There’s a long, shaky breath. “I never wanted you to find out how much I… how long I’ve felt this way, especially not like this. I keep thinking I’ve ruined everything. That you’re going to look at me differently now, and I won’t even be able to blame you.”

His voice cracks slightly on the last part. “Please just tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it. I swear.”

It’s late. The chat has been silent for hours when Nicky texts again. The messages come in slowly, like he’s second-guessing every word.

Nicky: are you awake i can’t sleep every time i close my eyes i see them and then i feel like the worst person alive for still having them

A full minute passes before the next one arrives.

Nicky: i was going to delete everything i had the chat open and everything and then i just… sat there i’m so messed up right now

The typing bubble appears and disappears several times before more come through.

Nicky: i keep telling myself it’s just pictures and that it was an accident and that i should be able to just hit delete and move on but my hands won’t do it and that makes me feel even worse

Nicky: i’ve liked you for so long and the one time something like this happens it’s because of a stupid mix-up and now i’m the guy who saw your nudes and still hasn’t deleted them like some kind of creep

Another pause, longer this time.

Nicky: i’m sorry for texting so late. i just didn’t know who else to talk to about this and i can’t stop thinking about how differently you’re going to look at me now. if you even want to look at me at all.

Nicky: please just tell me what you want me to do. i’ll do it. i promise. even if it’s never speaking to me again.

You run into Nicky the next day. The moment he spots you, he freezes mid-step, ears going red almost instantly. His eyes fix somewhere near your shoulder instead of your face, and one hand immediately reaches up to tug at the sleeve of his oversized hoodie.

“H-hey.”

He shoves both hands deep into the front pocket of the hoodie, shoulders hunching slightly like he’s trying to make himself smaller.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me. After… you know.” His voice is quiet and strained. “I can go. Or we can just… not talk about it. Or we can talk about it. I don’t know which one is less terrible.”

He risks a quick glance at your face before looking away again, cheeks still flushed. “I’m really sorry. I keep saying that. I don’t know what else to say.” A soft, nervous breath leaves him. “I spent half the night staring at my phone trying to delete them and the other half feeling sick that I still hadn’t. Every time I almost did it, I just… froze. And then I felt disgusting all over again.”

Nicky shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly fighting the urge to leave. “I never wanted you to find out how long I’ve… felt this way. Especially not like this. I keep thinking I’ve already ruined everything, and I don’t even know how to look at you without remembering what I saw.”

His voice drops even quieter. “If you want me to leave you alone, just say it. I’ll understand. I just… needed to see you once. To apologize properly. Even if I still can’t say it right.”