Page 68 of Best Supporting Actor

And somehow, despite his terror, Jay managed to smile and lift the bedcovers in invitation. To his enormous relief, Tag’s brilliant grin broke out right away, and he padded across the room and back into Jay’s arms.

Thank God.

They kissed lightly as they settled down together in the big bed, hands exploring each other’s bodies with less urgency now. It felt good to hold Tag like this, warm and sated and comfortable.

“That was amazing,” Tag said after a while, snuggling closer so that his head rested on Jay’s shoulder.

“It was.” Jay kissed his head. “It really was.”

“Youwere amazing,” Tag went on, stroking Jay’s stomach. “You’re so…responsive. I love it.”

Nobody had ever called himthatbefore, and Jay didn’t quite know what to make of the compliment. He was smiling, even so, trailing his fingers over Tag’s shoulder, tracing the whorls of one of his tattoos. “What do they mean?” he asked, keen to divert the conversation away from the awkward subject of his performance. “Or are they just decorative?”

He felt Tag smile against his shoulder. “They mean different things,” he said. “That one?” Lifting his head, he peered at the black lines—letters?—that Jay was tracing. “That’s my first. It’s meant to say ‘Be Yourself’ but it was a crappy tattooist. I got it done when I was a kid, after I landed my very first professional role.” He gave a wry laugh, laying back down against Jay’s chest. “Mum did her nut.”

“Your first role,” Jay said, smiling. “What was that?”

“Young Ebenezer Scrooge. It was at our local theatre. They were putting on a Christmas production. Quite a big thing, you know? Professional, but they always cast the kids’ roles locally. Anyway, my drama teacher told me to go along to the auditions, so Mum took me. And all the other kids…” He broke off, looking up at Jay with a rueful expression. “They were all from drama schools, all really posh. They all knew each other, too. I was the only one there from a normal school, definitely the only one with a proper London accent, and I could hear them… sniggering. I was meant to hear, of course. I almost left, to be honest, but Mum wouldn’t let me.Be yourself, she said.Show them what’s what. And so I did. And I went and got the bloody part, and all.” He grinned, although Jay could see more behind that smile—could see the lingering humiliation and anger at how those kids had treated him. “Anyway, being a dumb fourteen-year-old, I decided to ink my mum’s profound advice on my arm at a dodgy tattoo parlour that didn’t check IDs. I got the next one to try and make the first one look better, and then I just kind of got hooked.”

Jay ran a hand over Tag’s arm, tracing the badly formed words, almost hidden now by the elegant swirling pattern that surrounded them. The thing that struck him about that story was what Tag had said about his accent. Because Tag was brilliant with accents—the subtle Shropshire burr he gave Owen was perfect—and if he’d chosen to, he could probably have sounded exactly like those snobby kids who’d tried to knock him down. Exactly like their adult counterparts who almost certainly still did the same. Jay had wondered before why Tag didn’t make his life easier by softening his natural Estuary twang—and now he knew.

“Theatre kids can be total shits,” he said eventually, his voice rough with feeling, “but I’m glad the casting director saw your talent. And I’m glad you’re still following your mum’s advice. I like who you are, and I know you’re going to get all the success you deserve.”

Sounding sleepy, Tag said, “Yeah? Well, I hope so. If it doesn’t come soon, I’m going to have to go with plan B—getting a real job. At least it’ll make my dad happy. ”

It would also mean Tag giving up on his dreams.

The idea of Tag being forced to do that when he had so much talent and potential made Jay feel an unfamiliar hot fury. Deep in his gut, maybe for the first time, he felt how very wrong it was that Tag’s success should be determined more by his family’s ability to support him than by his own talent, drive, and hard work.

“It’ll come,” Jay said determinedly, although he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. “You’re a very talented actor, Tag, and—and I’ll do everything I can to help people see that.”

“You’re already helping.” Tag lifted his head, meeting Jay’s eyes. “Agreeing to work with me despite our history. Putting so much of yourself intoLet Us Go Back.” With a sleepy smile, he added, “The way I see it, appearing on stage with you is my big break. It’s up to me to make the most of it. Loads of actors never get a chance like this.”

Jay’s heart lurched uneasily. “You know,Bow Streetis probably the bigger opportunity…”

“Are you joking? No way.Let Us Go Backis a way bigger deal. Bea says they’ve got some big-name theatre critics coming up from London. ”

“Really?” Jay hoped he didn’t sound as panicked as he felt. London critics? Please, God, not Austin Coburn.

“Yeah, thanks to Henry directing,” Tag said. “And when it comes out that you’re in it? Bea reckons there’s going to be a media frenzy.”

That was what Giles Cox thought too. It was why he’d spent most of their evening in the Bear trying to persuade Jay to agree to a press release about his involvement before opening night. And it was why Jay was desperate that nobody should find out until he’d walked out on stage that first night and proven that he could actually get through a performance.

Tag settled his head back down, heavy and relaxed on Jay’s shoulder. “I just hope I don’t fuck it up.”

“You won’t fuck it up,” Jay said faintly. “You’re going to be incredible.”

As for himself… Christ, it was bad enough that he’d let his mother railroad him into this role, but it hadn’t occurred to him until now that, if he screwed up again, he’d be risking more than his own embarrassment. He’d be risking Tag’s future.

The prospect of letting Tag down so badly made it difficult to breathe all of a sudden.

Why thehellhad he agreed to do this stupid bloody play? He should have lived with his mother’s disappointment and let the part go to another actor, abetteractor. Someone who didn’t have a panic attack at the thought of a live fucking audience.

It was too late for that now, though. Opening night was barrelling down the tracks, and Jay, like a cartoon heroine, was tied firmly to the bloody sleepers.

There was no escape.

Which meant that, one way or another, Jay had to find a way to tame his crippling stage fright before he ruined Tag’s chance of achieving the success he needed so badly.