I reach the trailer and knock twice, my knuckles stinging against the metal. The door opens before I can knock again. Nadia peers out, her eyebrows lifting in surprise.
“Hey,” she says. “I thought you were still at the security checkpoint. Come in.”
I step into the trailer, the smell hitting me immediately—vanilla body spray and cucumber lotion and the faint, sweet scent of the apple Nadia’s been eating. Normally, I wouldn’t notice. Now it wraps around me from every direction, thick enough to make the air feel crowded.
I wait until the door closes behind me before I speak. “I need your help.”
Nadia pauses in the middle of reaching for her water bottle. “What happened?”
“What you said last night. About late presentations.” The words feel strange in my mouth, like I’m speaking a language I don‘t fully understand. “It’s happening. Right now.”
Her eyes widen. “You‘re presenting?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I sink into the small couch, my legs suddenly weak. “I was in the security checkpoint, checking props, and Adrian and Bash came in. And I—“ I stop, the memory of the sound still burning in my ears. “I made this sound. This noise. Like a...” I can’t say it.
“Like a purr,” Nadia finishes for me, her voice low. She sits down next to me. “An omega purr.”
I nod, the motion jerky. “And then Elias was there. He said it was pre-heat. That I’m going into heat.” The word feels foreign in my mouth. “I need to know if there’s something I can take. Pills or supplements or—I don’t know, essential oils. Anything to make it stop, or at least slow it down until we finish the production.”
Nadia’s face shifts, concern replacing surprise. “Maya, if you’re going into pre-heat, that’s not something you can just take a pill for. It’s your body’s way of—“
“I know what it is,” I interrupt. “And I know it's not supposed to happen to someone who's spent twenty-eight years thinking she's a beta. But it is happening, and I have two weeks left on this job. I just need to get through two weeks without...” I gesture vaguely at my body. “Without this.”
She studies my face for a long moment. “Are you sure that’s what’s happening? Have you talked to a doctor?”
“I don’t need a doctor,” I say. “I need something to make the symptoms stop. I can’t work like this. The smells are driving me crazy. And the crowds—“ I stop, remembering the way the set suddenly felt too small, too full, the voices piling on top of each other until I couldn’t think. “I can’t handle it. Not until we’re done.”
Nadia sighs, running a hand through her hair. “There are suppressants. Most omegas use them, especially the ones who work. But they’re not a quick fix. They take time to build up in your system. And if you’re already in pre-heat...” She shakes her head. “You‘d need a prescription anyway. And a doctor‘s visit.”
“I can’t wait that long,” I say. “Isn’t there something else? Something you have now that might help?”
She hesitates, then reaches for her bag, pulling out a small silver case. “I have these,” she says, opening it to reveal a row of small white tablets. “They’re not real suppressants. Just herbal blockers. They help with scent and sensitivity, but they won’t stop anything if your body’s really determined to go into heat.”
I grab for them, then stop, my hand hovering over the case. “Will they help with the crowds? The noises? The—“ I drop my voice. “The purring?”
“They might,” she says. “But Maya, this isn't just a symptom you treat and move on from. If you're presenting as an omega, that's a major life change. It's not just about scent or sensitivity. You need to understand what's happening.”
“This doesn't change who I am,” I say, the words sharp. “I'm the person who keeps the production running. I'm the one who makes sure everyone has what they need. I'm the assistant who coordinates the coordinators. That doesn't change just because my body decides to do something weird.”
She studies me for a long moment, her expression softening. “Okay,” she says finally. “Take one now and one before bed. They’ll help with the sensitivity and the scent. But you’re still going to feel different. And if your body’s really going into heat...” She pauses. “You might need more help than these can give you.”
I nod, reaching for the tablets. “Thanks. I’ll be fine. Two weeks, and then I can figure out the rest. If I can just finish this production, no one can say I couldn't do my job."
She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t argue. “Just... be careful, okay? Alphas can tell. They’ll know something’s different about you.”
“They already do,” I say, thinking of Adrian's concern, Bash's attention, and the certainty in Elias's voice. “That’s part of the problem.”
I slip one of the tablets from the case and dry-swallow it, grimacing at the chalky taste. It sticks in my throat for a second before going down.
“How long until it starts working?” I ask.
“Twenty minutes, maybe,” Nadia says. “You should feel calmer. The scents won’t be so overwhelming.”
I nod, already feeling better just knowing there‘s a plan. “I should get back. The transition’s starting soon, and I need to check in with the AD.”
“You sure you’re okay?” she asks. “You can take a few minutes. The first AD knows you’re here.”
“I’m fine,” I say, standing up. I say it so often lately it barely feels like a real answer anymore, but this time it feels a little more true. The tablet sits in my stomach, a small, solid promise of normal. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you at the scene change.”
