30. Nikos

30

NIKOS

Harsh studio lights blind me. It's like I'm sitting in a room, engulfed in unnaturally white light, the silence of the crew watching on almost deafening. The interviewer is a striking woman with red-painted lips, wide green eyes, and pin-straight brown hair that looks as manicured as the pre-written questions she has on the interview cards waiting on her lap.

I take it all in, the raised plush chairs we sit on, the empty one at my side, the fake flowers, flashing screens with pictures of my face followed by images taken of me and the ‘mystery man' in Greece.

Maybe I should've paid more attention to the script I was given. All my excuses were in there, written down for me by someone else trying to navigate the story of my life. Not that it would matter anymore.

Big issue, though - Michelle is nowhere to be seen. Not that I can blame her. Now my head is clear, I'm already plotting all the ways I can make it up to her. I don't feel like a bunch of flowers is enough for someone like her, but I would give it a go.

I'm going this alone. And instead of running away, this time I'm forced to face it.

‘Live from New York in ten seconds,' the red-faced show runner calls from stage left.

The interviewer leans forwards, tapping her nails on my knee. ‘Are you ready to break the internet, Nikos?'

I swallow hard, forcing down the sickness to the pit of my stomach. ‘I am.'

‘Five seconds!'

I close my eyes and take the deepest breath I can in through my nose. I'm aware of some commotion just off the set, but I don't care enough to look. I think of Oli - my Honey - his warm smile, kind eyes, and gentle, encouraging touch. I imagine he's here with me, his presence guiding me through the next ten minutes.

Ten minutes - that's all I have. Ten minutes to re-write my story. To forge a web of lies so strong, it's ironclad and unbreakable.

When I open my eyes just as the ‘live on air' button flashes red, I adorn the mask of the actor and leave everything else behind.

The show's jingle plays around us, silencing in time for the interviewer to unleash the same welcome she's given every morning for as long as she's been doing this job. I look at her and smile, unable to gather the strength to find my camera and face all of America who are watching.

I'm hot beneath my suit. I see the glass of water on the coffee table before me, plastered with the logo of the TV show, and find myself dying for a drink. I take it, just as the interview turns her attention to me and introduces me.

I lift the glass to my lips with shaking hands, and I almost choke when she goes silent, leaving the floor to me.

‘Thank you for having me,' I say, catching a drip of water from sliding down my chin, with my thumb.

‘You must be exhausted, what with all the movie's release, press, and your secretive trips to Greece. It's an honour you've fit us into your busy schedule.'

I lift the glass in salute. ‘It's my pleasure. Although I admit, I'd rather be sunbathing on a beach than being back here at home. There's just something less aggressive about the birds in Greece - the pigeons in the city are deadly.'

The interview barks out a laugh. ‘Coming from the dragon riding warrior we've all come to swoon over! Do you hear that America? Nikos Ridge is scared of some little birds.'

‘Little? Have you seen those pigeons? They're the size of small dogs.' I give her my winningest smile.

She narrows her eyes at me, flaying me open with a single look. ‘Now, are you trying to distract us, Nikos?'

‘Whatever from?' I retort, my heart beating in my throat.

I can't move before she strikes out and lifts up my hand. There is no time to stop her, before she focuses on my finger - to the place an engagement band would've been if I were Michelle.

Shame I left it - and her - back in the dressing room.

‘Looking for something?' I asked.

‘Well, I was. actually.' She drops my hand, leaning back in her chair in a mock stature of comfort. ‘The streets are talking, Nikos. Those little birdies you are so frightened of are chirping about a potential engagement. Anything you want to share?'

‘I told you those birds are a nightmare.' I go for a wink, but it falls flat. It takes everything I have not to focus on the empty chair beside me.

She laughs again, this time sicklier than before. It's fake, as is everything here. And I can tell that she's just worked out that I didn't read through my script.

‘Nikos. We're friends here, aren't we? Between me and you, have you got anything you'd like to share?'

I lean forwards, wondering if those watching from the comfort of their own homes can see the sweat beading on my temple. My breathing is uneven, my chest constricting as though a python has tangled itself around me.

‘Actually, yes. I've been keeping a secret from you all, but clearly not very well.'

The interviewer claps her hands together. ‘What a way to start a boring Thursday morning off. How thrilling. Now, I have my speculations, as does all of social media apparently…' She gestures to the large screens behind me, where the photos of me and Oli have been circulating. Of course, they don't show his face. I admit, the excuse of him being Michelle's relative works - no matter how the lie makes me ill. To my relief, the photos fade into something new. Screenshots of social media comments flash up, each one as irritating as the next. I see Michelle's name next to mine, the mention of marriage, the talk of on-screen chemistry spilling over to real life.

I stare at it, dumfounded and frozen.

‘So…' She drawls out, tapping those nails on the side of her chair, the sound grating through me. ‘What have you got to share with us, Nikos?'

I turn away from everything, unable to focus. This is the moment I secure my future, but at the cost of taking the power away from my past. From Oli. I search the dark shadows of the set for Selina, hoping her encouraging nod or smile will help me through this next lie.

But what I find has my body and mind shutting down.

Oli stands to the side, concealed by shadows, but even in the dark I would be able to find him. I blink - not once, but four times, wondering if the ghost would disappear. But he is real, very real, all sun-blond wavy hair, wide eyes, and a heart-shaped face that my fingers and mouth have memorised.

He is holding large cards in both hands, so big they cover his torso. And on it, written in black ink and rushed handwriting, is a few words.

He can never hurt you again. You're free.

Time seems to stretch on, but perhaps only milliseconds have passed. I don't know. I'm not aware of anything but the words he's holding up. Selina shadows him, nodding as if offering the confirmation of what my thoughts are piecing together.

Oli reaches into his pocket, making the card hit the ground with a thump. I watch him, his every movement, and see him withdraw a watch. My watch. The one my father had taken from me.

He can never hurt you again.

He - my father.

You're free.

‘I'm sorry to the folks watching, but it would seem that Nikos is teasing us with his big announcement,' the interview says from next to me. She jabs me in the side playfully with a fake nail, but I can tell she's getting irritated.

Before I take my eyes off Oli, I'm certain he mouths three more words to me.

I love you.

‘Nikos? Earth to Nikos?' When the interview taps my knee again, it's with a harsh bite. Clearly, I'm embarrassing her. But I don't care. I care about nothing but the fact that Oli is here.

My ears are ringing, my head an empty space of disbelief. I can hardly think straight, but somehow that pressure on my shoulders has eased.

‘I'm sorry,' I say, unsure who my apology is for.

‘Are you ready?' she encourages, waving her hands impatiently at me. ‘We are all bursting to know what Nikos Ridge's secret is.'

A small laugh bursts out of me. One little bark, followed by another.

‘Where do I even begin?' I reply.

My secrets. I've had so many. When I was seventeen years old, I tried to escape my abusive home with my mother. Because of my attempt, my father killed her. I tried to kill him in return. I ran away from home, leaving behind the promise of being blamed and convicted for my mother's death - although I wasn't the one to push her, my actions are what drove my father to do it, so I suppose it was my fault. Since then I have been running from demons - my father - who chased my success, holding my past over my head like a guillotine, unless I paid him. But all that running forced me into the hands of a man who opened my mind in ways I never believed possible. My life changed in a split second when my mother fell down those stairs, so it is not impossible to believe that it would take two weeks with Oliver Cane for it to change again.

I take a deep breath, find my camera and stare deep into the lens. I have a sense of the millions of people watching, those ready to post my admission across social media. I have an image of the big-wigs at the film studios, sat around a TV in a board room, leaning in with anticipation, waiting for me to make my career or break it.

But what is success without a person to enjoy it with? A waste. Like my life has been until Oli.

‘My name is Nikos Ridge, and I am head over heels, unequivocally, unapologetically and viciously in love with a man. His name is Oliver Cane, and you all saw him in those pictures. He is not my friend, my publicist, or the brother of a woman who you all believe me to be engaged to. He is Oli. He is simply my Honey, and I am his. And I love him because he loves me, past, present, and future - I hope. And he's here right now.'

The studio is silent. Hell, the entire world goes quiet. But I don't. Now I've started, the words just flow out of me. And I tell the watching world our story, from beginning and through the middle. I would've told them the end, but there isn't one yet.

I don't ever want there to be an end.

I can feel the cool kiss of eyes on the side of my face, and I know Oli is watching. But I can't have a distraction. Not until the last words fall out of my lips. Only then do I turn off stage, extend a hand for him and offer him four words.

‘I love you, too.'