tempting_the_fates (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tempting_the_fates) wrote2025-04-27 06:55 pm
tempting_the_fates) wrote2025-04-27 06:55 pm
For Hex / Will
He was a week into treatment, and he was struggling. He wouldn't admit it, wouldn't slow down, but he was struggling. He was exhausted and unsteady, and though he'd made it through another day on set without anyone seeming to notice, he collapsed the moment he got home, falling asleep on the sofa.
He just needed to get through this, and then he'd be fine. He just needed to get through this without fucking things up at work. and he'd be fine. Everything would be fine. It would be like he'd never been ill at all.
He just needed to get through this, and then he'd be fine. He just needed to get through this without fucking things up at work. and he'd be fine. Everything would be fine. It would be like he'd never been ill at all.
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It was only after the door slammed that he noticed Nyx sleeping and cringed.
"Sorry," he said, quiet enough that if Nyx hadn't woken up from the door, the apology wasn't going to do it either.
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Nyx jerked awake though, looking a bit shaken.
"What?" he asked, groggy and still half asleep. "I... Were you out?"
He hadn't thought to check if Will was home when he'd come in. He was struggling to think at all some days.
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"Yeah, I texted you about dinner. I got you something anyway," he told him.
He dropped into the chair by Nyx and sat the bag on the table. He pulled out his dinner, leaving a chicken caesar salad in the bottom for Nyx.
"Hard day?" he asked as he unwrapped his burger.
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"No, it's fine, I'm good," Nyx lied, finally sitting up properly. "Just a long day."
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"Work then, what, chemo? Blood work?" he asked.
Nyx seemed to want things to stay as normal as ever and he was trying. He was.
But it felt fucking weird talking about cancer eating a burger with a drippy egg on it.
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"Just work today. I did three days of treatment this week, I'm good until next week. Then I get two weeks off, then back on..."
He rattled it off easily, like he'd already memorised it all, then sighed.
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"I don't imagine you're going to take any time off," he said. Definitely not a question. "Is hiatus coming up, maybe?"
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"Soon," Nyx nodded. "I don't need time off though, I can handle it. I don't want to be absent from the most important episodes of our first season, Will. I don't want to be the character that gets dropped or forgotten."
For all he knew, this was his one chance to really make it in the mainstream as an actor.
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"And how long do you think you can keep this lie going?" Willy asked casually. "You know someone's going to notice."
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"It's not a lie. Greg knows I'm sick, the crew know. He says he'll write it into the plot if he needs to," Nyx shrugged.
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For a moment Willy couldn't help the concern that furrowed his brow.
"Seriously?" he asked.
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"Yeah. I told him I want to keep working, and he said he'd figure it out for me," Nyx nodded, curling up in the corner of the sofa.
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"If it doesn't kill you, I bet you win an award. All the awards," Willy assured him, not sure what else to say to this thing Nyx seemed cool with.
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"It's not going to kill me. Greg wouldn't let me work if he thought it was a problem," Nyx said confidently. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but... I can do this."
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Willy took a deep breath, exhaled, then ate three bites of his burger before asking, "You gonna at least get some good drugs?"
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"I'm on whatever they put me on. ...And nothing else," he said firmly. "I can't be using, Will."
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"Could get me some good drugs," he grumbled to his burger before taking another bite.
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"Don't be a twat," Nyx muttered. "They don't give you fun drugs for cancer, Will."
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He sighed heavily.
"Not anymore. There was a time they'd give you some percs for an ear ache."
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Nyx rolled his eyes. He was determined to not fuck this up. He could stay sober, he could stay clean. He was going to fight this, and he was going to thrive.
"Whatever, Will," he said simply.
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"Yeah, whatever. Eat your dinner in the bag there," he told him, finishing his own burger.
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Nyx pulled out the salad and picked at it a bit, but eating was hard at the moment. Things tasted wrong, and his body didn't seem to want anything. He was doing his best, but he was pretty sure he'd have to give in and start drinking protein shakes like one of the nurses had suggested.
"How's the album promotion going?" he asked.
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"Good."
He paused.
"Not good. It's a bunch of bullshit. Promo photo shoots and interviews that ask the same stupid crap over and over," he sighed heavily.
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"You have to play the game to sell records," Nyx said. "It'll be better when the tour is in full swing."
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:I hope so. Right now it feels like every ounce of art is being sucked out and turned into money. WHich is great. Money is great," he said. "It's just kind of...gross."
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"You have to do the gross stuff now so you can make the art later," Nyx said, shaking his head a little.
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"Yeah, but i've been making the art. I've been making the art for no money, and honestly, I kind of wonder if I want to be..."
Rich? Famous? Willy really didn't know what he wanted. He had thought he wanted fame, but if this was what it was, maybe not.
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"Safe, fed and warm?" Nyx replied dryly.
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"Oh, shut up," he laughed. "You know what I mean."
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"Yeah, you want freedom. It's not free though, it never is, Will," Nyx said, shaking his head.
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"I know. I know that," he admitted with a nod. "I can wish, though..."
All the fame, none of the work.
That was called infamy and that...that wasn't for him, either.