Page 59 of Sebastian

I’m surrounded by people I used to know in the industry. Executives and producers and performers from studios I’ve worked with in the past. If we were anywhere else, anytime else, I would gladly chat and catch up with them. But I’ve got more important things to worry about than what they’ve done in the past ten years.

“Christian!”

Someone shoulders his way through the circle of people around me and waves his hand in my face. I flinch, then realize it’s Noel.

I grab his arm. “Where’s Sebastian?”

Noel doesn’t answer me. He just turns and tugs me along with him. I call out an apology to no one in particular and follow Noel toward the side of the ballroom. He pushes open the door for me and points down the hall.

“He’s around the corner and all the way down.”

I take off. “Sebastian?” I don’t see him around the corner, so I keep jogging until I spot his familiar back sitting at the top of a set of stairs. Relief floods me.

He’s all hunched over, face hidden in the space he’s created with his knees and arms. I rush over. “Hey.”

Sebastian’s shoulders rise, then sink in a shaky exhale. I sit down next to him and gently wrap my arm around his body. Sebastian curls into me, burying his face against my neck.

“Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

I press a kiss to the top of his head and my chest twinges in pain for him. I wish I could take his suffering away, to somehow siphon it off so I can bear it instead. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why am I like this?”

I don’t have an answer to that. But all sorts of people are all sorts of ways for no reason whatsoever. That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with them. And from where I’m sitting, Sebastian is everything that is right with the world.

“I don’t know, babe. But I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

Sebastian doesn’t respond, just burrows deeper into me. He’s starting to tremble, which is not a good sign.

“Do you need your medication? Do you have it on you?” Because I suspect the whole five things exercise will only do so much.

“It’s in our hotel room.”

I growl and make a mental note to remember to bring it with us the next time we leave the house. “Okay, let’s go then.”

“No, wait.” Sebastian clutches my lapels when I try to get up. “I can’t.”

I frown and do a quick scan of Sebastian’s body. Did he injure himself somehow? Do I need to carry him? “Why not?”

“Because. I need to go back.” He nods toward the ballroom. “Afterparties.”

Anger flares up inside me—at Sebastian for pushing himself when he obviously needs to take a break, at all the people who’ve created an industry that makes us think we need to sacrifice ourselves to stay relevant.

“No, you don’t.”

“But…” Sebastian looks up at me with those big brown eyes and ridiculous lashes. “Networking and stuff.”

There’s so much emotion pouring off him that it feels like a tidal wave. Fear and self-recrimination, so much anxiety. I hate that he has to deal with all this. I hate that he’s thinking about work and getting ahead instead of taking care of himself.

“Tell me honestly, do you really want to go and smile at all those people and pretend that everything’s okay?”

Sebastian drops his chin to his chest. “Not really.”

Yeah, I didn’t think so. “Then we’re not going.”

“But…” Sebastian says again.

I cup his cheek and wrap my fingers around the back of his neck to tilt his face up. “There will always be more parties to go to, more people to network with. Opportunities will present themselves again, they always do. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself. You can stop working for one night. Think of it as a reward for winning tonight.”

---