Page 54 of Best Supporting Actor
“Yeah.” Tag sagged against the door frame and rubbed a weary hand over his face. “I feel like an idiot,” he croaked. “The room was incredibly cheap, but I had to pay the rent and deposit up front to secure it—I only realised how bad it was when I got here, and then it was too late. There’s nothing I can do in the short term to get my rent back. Even if I take her to court—which I can’t afford to do, obviously—I’ll be back in London before the case gets anywhere.” He shook his head disgustedly. “I’m stuck here.”
Jay’s gaze took in the horror of Tag’s room. While efforts had clearly been made to clear up, it was still covered in filth—and damp filth at that. The whole atmosphere felt unhealthy. Jesus, what kind of spores would Tag be breathing in at night?
“You can’t sleep in here,” he said, before he could think better of it.
Tag laughed, without humour. “Yeah. Not right now anyway. Last night, I tried to sleep on the couch in the living room, but it’s only five feet long and lumpy as hell. I barely got an hour’s kip.”
“You need to go somewhere else,” Jay said, turning to him. “You’re not going to get through the next five weeks without a decent night’s sleep.”
Tag’s expression was agonised, and worse, ashamed. “I know, but I can’taffordanything else. Didn’t you hear what I said? I paid for this place up front. I’m fucked.”
Jay stared at him. “It can’t be that bad,” he whispered, but even as he said the words, he knew that was just wishful thinking.
Tag’s amber eyes sparked with irritation. “Itisthat bad,” he snapped. “I know you can’t understand what it’s like to have no money, but when I say I haven’t got a spare penny, I mean that literally!”
“But what about the money Bea’s paying you? And your bar work?”
Tag gave a frustrated snort. “I have other commitments—I pay rent to my parents every month, and they rely on it to meet their mortgage. I can’t just stop paying while I’m pissing about up here. Jesus, you really don’t get it, do you? Do you think I’d live in this shithole if I didn’t have to?”
“I’m sorry.” Jay swallowed. “No wonder you think I’m a prick.”
Tag sighed heavily. “I don’t think you’re aprick,” he said. “But you’re fucking naïve about life sometimes.”
Jay nodded. That was fair. He’d been clapping himself on the back for buying dinner for everyone at the company night out, thinking he was so insightful about Tag’s financial issues, but the truth was, he’d been just as blind as everyone else. He’d had no real idea how tough things were for Tag, and he hadn’t bothered to ask.
“So, is your landlady at least going to get this cleaned up?” Jay asked, gesturing at the wrecked room.
Tag shook his head. “She says it’s my problem, so I reckon I’m going to be sleeping on the couch till I clean it up.” He shrugged. “At least I don’t have a shift tonight, so I can make a start after rehearsal.”
Jay stared at him, horrified. “Fuck that,” he heard himself saying, his voice hoarse with outrage. “You’re not cleaning this shit up for that…thatwoman. Pack your stuff. You’re coming with me.”
Tag’s eyes widened. And honestly, Jay wondered if maybe his did too. He hadn’t planned to say that—it just came out.
“Coming with you where?” Tag said faintly.
Where?
The obvious solution was a hotel until Tag could find somewhere else to stay. Of course, Tag couldn’t afford a hotel, or somewhere else to stay, and knowing Tag, he’d probably rather sleep under a bridge than let Jay pay. So what, then?
Jay pictured his riverside apartment. Okay, it was just a studio apartment, but it was roomy, and the couch converted into a good-quality sofa-bed. Tag couldn’t object to crashing on a friend’s couch, could he?
“You’re moving into my place,” Jay said firmly.
“What? No!” Tag protested. “You don’t need me under your feet.”
“What Ineed,” Jay snapped, knowing instinctively that the best approach was to fire up Tag’s drive and ambition, “is a co-star who can fucking do his job and get up for rehearsal in the morning. And who’ll be there on opening night because he’s not come down with some lung infection from breathing in deadly bloody spores!”
“Spores?” Tag blinked at him, seeming taken aback. “I didn’t—” he began and broke off.
“Come on, Tag,” Jay said, more gently. “This is your big break. You have to give it your best shot, right? And if you insist on staying here, you won’t be doing that. You know it, and I know it. So for once, will you put your pride aside and just let me help you out?”
Tag swallowed, his throat bobbing hard. “Okay,” he whispered.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Jay
Five days later