Page 60 of Unscripted with Mila

“I don’t know a lot about the different forms of the condition,” I admitted. “My friend was diagnosed in her teens, and she was always a private person. But she told me, and I used to sit with her when she was down. Some of the newer treatments have helped her a lot, and she leads a fairly normal life. But it still affects her. She says she couldn’t cope if it weren’t for all the support.” I stared at him, aghast. “You’re trying to do this on your own.”

He shrugged. “I have no choice.”

I couldn’t stay away from him. I launched myself off the sofa, and he caught me, holding me close. “You’re not alone, Nicholas. I’m here.”

He tightened his arms. “I thought you’d walk away.”

“No.”

“Thank fuck,” he murmured.

* * *

NICHOLAS

I held Mila tight, not wanting to release her from my embrace. She let me draw strength from her closeness, and I finally loosened my hold enough she could ease back and look at me. I met her eyes, buoyed by what I saw in them. There was no judgment, no disdain. Only understanding, gentleness, and worry.

For me.

The last person who truly worried about me was my mother. No one had looked at me with such gentle emotions since the day she died.

I hadn’t thought anyone would ever look at me that way again.

I shook my head in wonder. “How do you do that?” I asked quietly.

“Do what?”

“Calm me, center me by simply being close. Make me feel as if I’m okay just by looking at me?”

“You are okay, Nick. You have a disorder you have to live with. It doesn’t change who you are.”

I barked out a laugh. “It does to MJ and the studio execs.”

She made a face. “They need to get their heads out of their asses. Mental illness needs a light shone on it, not to be hidden. They should be ashamed of themselves.”

“I’m not the only one in this situation.”

“It’s so frustrating. They should allow celebs to speak out, talk about it. It would help so many people. Have they learned nothing from history?”

“I know. And some celebs do speak out, but not enough.”

“No, it’s not. The studio looks like the hero keeping you around, and you’re labeled as a substance abuser. That isn’t right.”

I shrugged, unable to keep my eyes off her. Her cheeks were flushed in anger, her eyes flashing. She was furious on my behalf. Worried about my reputation. Concerned for me.

She huffed a sigh. “I hate that your agent doesn’t do more to help you, rather than hide your disorder.”

“MJ’s concern is for her payday. Her reputation. Not my personal mental well-being.” I stopped speaking, lost in memories for a moment. “It wasn’t always like that.”

“You’ve known her a long time, you said?”

“We grew up together. We were best friends. We both had dreams. We worked together in those early days, supporting each other. We struggled together. She fought for me back then, and we were a real team. Then something changed. I grew one way, she grew another. She was a good agent and worked hard to get me noticed, but now, all that happens is we argue. Constantly. Nothing I do pleases her, it seems. Then suddenly, she becomes the MJ I first knew, and we’re good for a while.” I lifted one shoulder in confusion. “I’m never sure which MJ I’ll deal with some days.”

“That must be difficult.”

“It is. Some days more than others.”

“Still, you’re very loyal to her.”