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“But she knows?”
“She was there the first time. It happened on the Dalston set. I was ten.”
“God, so young.” She rubbed her stomach. “You must’ve been terrified.”
“I was absolutely bricking it. The palpitations, my throat closing up…I swore I was a goner.” Nick sniffed. “Then the paramedics arrived and carted me off to A&E. One EKG, two blood tests, and several autographs later, they diagnosed me with a panic disorder.”
Evie nodded but didn’t interrupt, letting Nick continue.
“Mum flipped. She practically flew through the bleedin’ ceiling tiles.”
“How come?”
“If word got out, I’d be kissing my career goodbye faster than you can say Equity card.” A shiver crept up his spine. “So Mum went into protection mode, told the docs they were wrong, and marched me out of there before treatment options were discussed.”
Evie reared back. “Protection? Of what—your career? But what about your health? I’d say that’s more important than—?” She stopped short, the rest apparently too distasteful for her to verbalize.
Yep. Welcome to my life. Nick’s mouth went dry. “No, no. It’s not like that. Of course she cares more about me than my career.” He averted Evie’s disapproving gape and picked at the hem of his pink button-down, wrinkled and untucked from his trousers. “But she also knows how the business works. The truth is, nobody wants to book a kid with mental issues.”
“Nick! I’m sure that’s not true.”
He looked up. “No, it is! It happened to this girl I know. The director spotted her ADHD medication and axed her straight after. She hasn’t booked a role since.” Shaking his head, he fussed with his shirt’s buttons. “We couldn’t risk it, so Mum told the Dalston bosses my”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“‘episode’ was a life-threatening reaction to shellfish.”
Evie’s jaw dropped. “She lied about your health?!”
“It was only a little lie.”
She shook her head. “Little lies have a way of becoming big messes!”
“Yeah, I guess. The producers banned prawn cocktail crisps from the craft services table. Then that snowballed into the catering company removing fish cakes, fish fingers, and cod and chips from their menu in case they made me ill. My poor castmates paid the price. They hated me. For months.”
“Jeez, I’d probably hate you, too.” Evie reached over, collecting his hand. “For all of five minutes.”
Her touch roused Nick’s smile.
“But if I was sick and my mum didn’t get me the treatment I needed…I wouldn’t call that protective,” said Evie. “I’d call it neglect.”
A pang of truth wrenched Nick’s heart. Touchy-feely his mother was not. He couldn’t remember the last time she hugged him, let alone asked how he was feeling. “It’s not, though. Mum did what was best for me. Acting is the best medicine. I’d be lost without it.”
“But you can’t give your all to acting if you’re not feeling well, right?” she countered, facing him.
Nick scratched his temple. “Evie, look, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but it’s okay. I’m okay. The attacks don’t happen often, and when they do, I act like everything’s fine and no one notices.” He glanced down, studying her slender fingers wrapped firmly around his, her nails painted a pale lilac. “But then again…” Nick blinked up, meeting her eyes. “You’re not like other people.”
She bit her bottom lip and smiled shyly behind her hair, a glimpse of the old Evie shining through.
A flutter took flight in Nick’s chest. I can’t believe she’s still here. Evie had been nothing but kind and protective. Imagine that! He squeezed her hand. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me. God knows what might’ve happened if you hadn’t.”
“It’s nothing, really.” A blush rose on her cheeks.
“No, it’s something. I’ve been dealing with this on my own for yonks. It’s nice to finally talk about it.”
Evie leaned closer. “You don’t with Bree? What about Kyle and Zach? Your parents?”
“I haven’t told my friends. Dad thinks only wimps have them. Mum refuses to discuss it.”
The moment his answer left his lips… Shit, that sounded worse aloud. Nick cringed inwardly, and Evie’s reaction—her wide-eyed stare—confirmed his suspicion.
He let out a carefree laugh, determined to course-correct and alleviate Evie’s concern. “But it’s a good thing, keeping quiet. This way, the press are none the wiser and my mates can’t take the piss. Trust me, I already get enough stick playing Jake!”
