Page 13 of Not Your Golden Boy

It was only right that Nikky was accommodating. He had a contract with Albion, after all. But Harry didn’t like the way he’d given that answer so quickly and easily, like a good boy. At least, he didn’t like Nikky being a good boy for someone like Albion. If he’d given that answer to him….

“What did you think of the session?” he asked Nikky as they left the studio and headed down the street toward an arcade-like shopping center that held several restaurants.

Nikky shrugged. “It was good,” he insisted.

Harry sent him a flat look.

Nikky puffed out a weak laugh. “Okay, it wasn’t what I was hoping for.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Harry said with a smirk.

“I know what Albion wants to do with me, but⁠—”

He waited, but Nikky didn’t finish his sentence. Harry finished for him. “It’s not who you want to be. Your song was miles better than anything Albion dragged up from his pop skip.”

“You thought so, too?” Nikky asked, looking at Harry like he might be his savior.

“I absolutely thought so,” Harry said. “I might not know you all that well yet, but I’m one hundred percent sure you know who you are, and it’s not the person Albion or anyone else is trying to get you to be.”

“Exactly,” Nikky said, heavy with relief. “Which is exactly why I need your help burning the whole thing down.”

Harry stopped just inside the entrance to the arcade and turned to face Nikky. He wasn’t sure how to tactfully say what was on his mind, so he settled for blurting it out.

“Nikky, you have way too much talent to throw your career away like you’re telling me you want to,” he said.

Nikky thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and glanced down at his feet. The gesture was surprisingly endearing and did way more to Harry than it should have. Nikky needed someone older and wiser to guide him so desperately it gave Harry a wildly inappropriate hard-on.

“You’re a brilliant musician,” he went on. “And I’ve seen your acting. You’re a generational talent. You can’t let that go because, what? Because you don’t like public attention?”

“It’s more than that,” Nikky said, peeking up at Harry through his long lashes. The look hit like an arrow in Harry’s heart.

“What more?” Harry asked, his voice coming out a little hoarse. “You can tell me. Is it your management team? I’m getting the impression they might not be out for your best interest.”

Nikky shrugged. “They’ve gotten me where I am,” he said.

“Where you are is wanting to run and hide and destroy everything,” Harry pointed out.

“That’s not exactly⁠—”

“Oh my god, are you Nikky Smith?”

The random young woman who stepped out of the crowd of milling people on their way to get lunch cut the important conversation short. Harry had never wanted to tell off a random young person more in his life.

“Yeah, I am,” Nikky said with a tense but personable smile.

“Wow! Nikky Smith! I love you,” the woman said, her eyes going wide and glittery. “Can I get a selfie with you?”

“Sure,” Nikky said.

Harry would have told the woman to fuck off. Politely, but fuck off all the same. Instead, he ended up taking the woman’s phone and snapping a couple pics. Then a few more when other people in the crowd realized they had a celebrity in their midst. They wasted a good ten minutes being polite, taking pictures, and signing things.

At least, Nikky did. Only one of the people who approached him realized who Harry was and asked for his autograph and picture, too.

In the end, Harry had to put his foot down and whisk Nikky away from his fans so they could eat before Nikky had to be back at the studio.

“See?” Nikky asked once they had sandwiches in hand and had taken up a small table near the escalator and a shiny public piano.

“See what?” Harry asked as he bit into his sandwich.