“What was it he was told? Don’t do anything that’s going to damage your
health.”
“Bastard,” Charlie whispered. “Throwing my words back at me.”
“It sounded like you meant them that night at the TV studio.”
“I did.”
“But your advice only counts when it’s directed at other people?”
“Austin…”
I breathed in slowly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to have a go at you. I’m just worried about you.”
“There’s no need, I promise. I’m okay. Just tired.”
“Which is why you need to take care of yourself.”
“There’s a big difference between letting down a couple of TV presenters and cancelling a concert twenty
thousand people are attending.” He let out a little sob. “I’ve never done that before. In all the time I’ve been singing
and touring, I’ve never had to cancel a concert.”
It was clear his voice was about to break. I wished I was there to hold him and tell him it would be okay.
“I hate this,” he whispered harshly. “I hate that I can’t control my epilepsy. I hate that it screws things up.”
“I know.” My words were useless. I could empathise with him as much as I wanted, but it wouldn’t change
anything.
“I’d have to give a reason for cancelling,” Charlie said mournfully.
“You could blame your voice,” I suggested.
“And then have it be fine in Reykjavik on Wednesday? No one’s gonna buy that.”
He was right.
“Maybe I should just tell the truth.”
He’d mentioned revealing his epilepsy to his fans a couple of times, but as far as I knew, he was still very wobbly
about it.
“Is that what you want to do?”
“No. Maybe. I dunno. I’m not sure Flannigan would be happy with me dropping a bombshell like that partway
through my tour.”
“Since when do you care what Flannigan thinks?”
“I don’t,” he mumbled. “Not really. Ignore me. I get whiny when I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
“I like whiny.”
“No, you don’t.”
I chuckled. A least he hadn’t lost his sense of humour. “Has your security team expressed an opinion?”
“Yup.”
“And?”
“They’re on your side.” He sounded so miserable it made my chest hurt.
After putting my phone on speaker, I lay down on the sofa, tucked one hand behind my head, and held the phone
against my chest with the other.
“It’s not about sides, Charlie. We all care about you.”
I knew I needed to be careful. Charlie had felt too smothered by his dads, who hadn’t wanted him to go into the
music industry at all for fear the pressures of it would exacerbate his epilepsy. I didn’t want to become the
overbearing partner who tried to tell him what to do, but I was worried about him. I hated that the drugs he took
didn’t do enough to fully control the seizures, but as an arctic fox, he was a bit of a rarity, so none of the drug
companies had funded medicines that would be more effective.
“Assume you do perform tonight,” I said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Charlie was quiet for several minutes. I bit my tongue and didn’t say a word. I just listened to the sound of his
breathing through the phone, or at least I did when he stopped holding his breath.
“I could have another seizure,” Charlie said, his voice little more than a whisper. “Onstage,” he added after another
long pause.
“Do you want to take that risk?”
“No.” His voice quivered, and he began to cry.
My heart broke. I should have been there to wrap him up in my arms and tell him it would be okay, that he
needed to rest and fully recover, that his fans would understand.
“Get Robin to make up an excuse,” I said softly once he’d managed to quiet himself.
Was he hugging a pillow to his chest in an attempt to find comfort? I’d seen him do that with his sofa cushions.
“He can tell everyone you’re sick—food poisoning or something. No one has to know the real reason you need to
cancel unless you want them to.”
There was no point in suggesting the concert be rearranged. Venues like that were booked up months,
sometimes years, in advance.
“Twenty thousand people,” Charlie croaked out.
“The venue will have insurance for cancellations, as will Phoenix. The fans will get their money back.”
“I know.”
But it wasn’t about the money, and I knew it. For all Charlie’s normally bold words, he was similar to Jesse in one
key respect—his fans meant everything to him. He adored them as much as they loved him. He enjoyed
performing and interacting with them, and the thought of having to let so many of them down had
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