they’d known I needed to make the
judgement call on the concert myself. That wasn’t a decision they would take out of my hands because they
knew how important it was for me to control everything I could. Not that I had been in control of that decision, not
really. I’d fought against it, protested aloud, but deep down, I’d known the moment I’d woken up that I wouldn’t be
performing.
I sipped the water that had been put on the table for me. “I need to do this,” I whispered.
“At least wait a couple more days until you’re feeling better.”
I shook my head. “Everyone’s here now. I can’t let anyone else down.”
Greg snorted. “This is where I wish you really were a divo.”
I chuckled humourlessly. “It would be easier, wouldn’t it?”
“They’re ready,” Robin said, taking the chair beside me.
Greg squeezed my shoulder and then moved back to stand with Pete, Wulf, and Trent. They were in their
smartest clothes, and I appreciated their watchful presence.
I leant forward and tapped the microphone in front of me. “Is this thing working?”
There were a few laughs, but not enough to make me relax any. Being tense with already sore muscles was a
bad combination.
“Charlie is going to make a statement first,” Robin said, taking over. “Then we’ll accept a few questions.”
Everyone stared at me. You’d have thought I’d have been used to it. Normally, I was, but in that moment, I wanted
the ground to swallow me up.
“With deepest regrets, I have to cancel tonight’s concert,” I said.
A couple of camera flashes went off, making me blink. I noticed some people whispering behind their hands. One
reporter raised their hand, but Robin shook his head sharply, indicating to everyone that I hadn’t finished.
I took a deep breath. “I have epilepsy—”
Every camera flash in the room lit up, cutting me off. I shielded my eyes. Damn, they were bright. Questions
were fired at me, none of which I heard.
“Charlie hasn’t finished,” Robin snapped into his microphone. “You’ll have the chance to ask questions. Later.”
Everyone quietened down.
“I’ve had two seizures this week.” I gestured to myself. “As you can see, I’m not in great shape. I was really
looking forward to performing in Paris tonight, but I have to put my health first. Right now, I need to rest.”
That was it. The end of the short, prepared speech Robin had helped me with. I wanted to run away, but I stayed
where I was as Robin selected a reporter to speak first.
“How long have you been living with epilepsy?” the reporter asked.
“Since childhood.”
That made the reporters erupt again. I resisted the urge to rub my temples, even though they were giving me a
headache.
“Is it managed by medication?” the next reporter asked.
“Not fully, or I wouldn’t be cancelling tonight’s concert.”
There were a few laughs.
“Why did you keep it a secret?”
I’d been expecting that question, although I’d hoped the reporters would be kind. “I don’t have a good answer.”
“Oh, come on, Charlie. Your fans are going to be wondering why you kept something so major a secret all these
years?”
I forced myself to smile as I scrabbled to come up with an answer. Because it was no one’s business but mine
wasn’t going to go over well. The trouble with being in the media spotlight was that every facet of my life was
everyone’s business.
“I didn’t want my epilepsy to define me,” I said at last. “I wanted to be treated like everyone else in this industry.”
“Do you think that’s going to change?” a different reporter asked.
“I hope not.”
“Will you be cancelling more concerts on this tour?” someone else asked.
“I’m not planning on it, but I can’t say for sure.” Tight knots had formed in my stomach, chest, and throat. I could
hear the waiver in my voice, and I knew I was close to losing it. “The hardest thing about my epilepsy is that I can
’t control or predict it. I do everything within my power to make sure it doesn’t affect public appearances and
touring, but sometimes, like today, that’s just not possible.”
“You’ve never cancelled a concert before,” a reporter pointed out.
“Nope. I guess I’ve been lucky up until now.” I drank some water. “Hopefully, my luck will kick back in for the rest
of the tour.”
“Could you tell us a little more about your epilepsy?”
“Sure. I have two types of seizures—focal aware seizures and tonic-clonic seizures. They’re the ones that leave
me tired and washed out for days.”
“Do flashing lights trigger your seizures?”
“No.
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