Chapter Text
Nick Nelson wasn’t a stranger to the West End. Or acting in general for that matter. He had been cast in many shows and musicals ever since he was 7 years old. Notably, his most famous role being Oliver in the self-titled musical: Oliver!. He then went into other musicals and plays across London up until he was 11.
On his 11th birthday, Sarah had just received a phone call explaining that Nick had bagged a 6 month stint in Les Miserables as Gavroche, a young but significant character with a small role. She couldn’t contain her excitement. She wanted nothing more than to get off the phone and run up to Nick and give him the good news. Once the call was done, Nick’s father entered the living room with a coffee in one hand and a stack of Nick’s scripts in the other and sat down beside her.
Nick was upstairs in his room when he heard raised voices coming from downstairs. He crept silently out of his room, along the landing and down the stairs, sitting himself on the middle step so he could hear what was going on.
“Will you stop entertaining this crazed life you dream for our son” his dad shouted, angrily. “It’s not healthy for him to believe he has a future in this industry. Nor is it healthy for his future relationships,” he yelled, slamming the scripts onto the coffee table.
“Is that all you care about, Stephane? That Nick might grow up a little different to you and veer off the path you so wish for him to follow? He is his own person and if he wants to be an actor then I will not stop that boy from doing that!”
Sarah firmly stood her ground, but Stephane was extremely persistent. “If Nick wishes to do this, then so be it. But I will have nothing more to do with him if he does.”
Nick’s little heart dropped. His eyes began to water and spill onto his brand new t-shirt he was gifted from his mum, staining the pale blue and yellow stripes with little dark splotches. He didn’t want to lose his dad, but he also didn’t want to give up the thing he loves.
“How dare you put him in that position. He is 11 years old. He is still a child. He is your child. You’d really give up on him because he loves to perform?” Sarah asks.
“I’m not giving up on him, he would be giving up on himself. He could be like his brother someday. He could be a rugby player. Strong and manly, not weak and feminine, dressed in leotards and singing and dancing with god knows who. I will not raise him to be like that,” Stephane admitted.
That’s all the young boy needed to hear before he ran back up the stairs, slammed his door and buried himself below his duvet. It didn’t take long for his mum to walk into his room and pat gently at the lump on the bed. His quiet sobs turned into streaming tears from next to her.
“Oh Nicky, I’m so sorry you had to hear that,” She lifted up the cover and settled herself next to Nick, who took the opportunity to pull himself up and dive into his mothers arms. “But I think we should pull you out of this for now and focus on your studies.''
Nick raised his head from his mum’s stomach, his brown eyes big and his lower lip quivering.
“So you don’t want me to be different either?” he sniffled.
“No, Nicky, that’s the complete opposite. I want you to be different. I want you to prove to your dad that you’re different but I do think you need to focus on school first,” she replied.
Sarah rubs his shoulder warmly and plants a kiss atop his head. She pulls him upright and wipes the tears that have pooled under his eyes. “Truham is a performing arts school. So it specialises in Drama, Dance, Theatre studies and more. We’ll sign you up to all performing arts clubs the school has to offer. I believe in you, Nicky.”
His mouth pulled into a small smile and he nodded, throwing himself back into his mothers embrace. She tightened her grip on him and kissed his hair again. “I promise you, Nicky. We won’t give up.”
♡
So that’s what he did. He went to Truham School of Performing Arts and spent 7 years of his life building a ladder to reach his dream. True to her word, Sarah enrolled him into acting courses on a Saturday with a few other kids from his school and a couple in the local area.
Every summer, he participated in a month-long drama programme at Sylvia Young.
His dad left the summer before his 12th birthday, he’ll admit that he was distraught but he wouldn’t let this ruin his dream.
At 17, he applied to the most prestigious drama schools in London. His heart was set on the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, RADA for short, but he was open to any of the many he had applied to.
He was invited to a handful of auditions and interviews over the span of a few months, it was just a waiting game for their decisions.
♡
“Mum! It’s RADA! I got an email from RADA!” Nick screamed from his bedroom. Nick had been getting emails from all the schools he’d auditioned for in the last week but they all sat unopened in his inbox. Part of him not wanting to open up out of fear of rejection. He’d been through that before with his dad, he was worried the results would just add to the trauma his dad leaving had given him. But also, this was the next step in his life. In growing up. In becoming an adult.
He jumped off his bed, picked up his laptop and ran downstairs into the kitchen where his Mum was starting to make dinner.
“So that’s all of them now?” she asks.
“That’s all of them. Guildhall, Rose Bruford, Italia Conti, LAMDA and RADA, they all replied!” Nick’s face turned from one of joy and excitement to one of worry and anxiety. His mum seemed to notice and placed a soothing hand on his cheek, rubbing it with gentle affection.
“Your future isn’t based on the contents of these emails, Nicky. You write your own future. If none of these are what you want then, quite frankly, they’re bloody stupid!” Nick laughs at this. His mum always did know what to say. “But, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll think of something. We’ll think of something because that’s what we do, don’t we? We’re a team!”
Nick smiles and nods. His hand hovers over the touchpad on his laptop and he takes two deep breaths in.
First was Guildhall.
[email protected]
Dear Mr Nicholas Nelson,
We are pleased to offer you a place on the BA (Hons) Acting course starting in September.
Nick choked on a sob and tears began to flow quickly. His mum let out a low gasp and bounced around the kitchen island and pulled her son into a hug.
“Well done, baby! I knew you would get in,” she smiled. Nick wiped his eyes and clicked on the next email from Italia Conti.
Mr Nicholas L Nelson,
Congratulations!
And then Rose Bruford.
We are writing to inform you that you have been offered a place on the BA (Hons) Acting course commencing in the upcoming September.
And then LAMDA.
We are pleased to inform you that your place on the below course has been confirmed.
BA (Hons) Professional Acting
He couldn’t believe it. He had been accepted to 4 out of the 5 schools he’d auditioned for and was still yet to open the most important one. The one he has been dreaming about since he was 14 years old.
“I don’t think I can open this one,” he told his mum, spinning the laptop away from him and towards his mother, who was now seated on the stool beside him. She grabbed her glasses from the table and put them on, leaned towards the screen and clicked on the unopened email.
To Nick, time passed extremely slowly. Surely it had to be bad if it’s taking her this long to read it, right? Sarah took off her glasses, placed them down and rose from her seat, grabbing Nick's hands in hers and offered him a soft, sad smile.
It was bad. He could sense it.
She took a deep breath.
“You got it, Nicky. You did it!” she told him. Nick heard nothing after that. He broke down into tears and pulled his mum into a hug. All his hard work had paid off, he’d been accepted to 5 of the best drama schools in London and he was going to his first choice.
He knew this was just the beginning for him.
♡
Nick had totally tanked that audition. It wasn’t a big deal, he knew he had a few more auditions lined up that week for other shows on and off the West End, but this role had meant so much to him. Ever since he’d read the snippet of script his agent had sent to him, he knew this was something he wanted to be part of.
“No mum, I totally fluffed it. There’s absolutely no way I got it,” he told her, phone raised to one ear and sipping on the coffee in his other hand. He rounded the corner to his one bedroom flat in Clapham, and climbed the stairs to his floor, smiling kindly at his neighbour as they passed him.
“It’s fine, I mean it’s not. I really wanted it but there will be other roles I’m sure.” He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself at this point. Or if it was working.
He leant the phone and head on his shoulder as he fumbled around in his tote for his door keys. Once inside, he toed off his white Air Force 1’s, threw his keys on the side, his bag on the sofa and walked into his bedroom.
Sarah had been rambling on about something Henry had been doing in the garden, whilst his phone began to buzz again. He pulled it away from his ear and read the calling card.
Jack (Agent)
Incoming…
“Mu- yeah, Mum. I’ll give you a call back in a minute. Jack is calling and I need to take this. Yeah, okay, yeah, yep, b-bye!” He ended the call then quickly picked up the phone to Jack.
“Hello? Jack?”
“Hi Nick! How was the audition?” he asked, much too chipper for Nick’s liking.
“I’ll be honest, not great,” Nick replied.
“Oh, why do you say that?”
“I don’t know, I just feel like I was overly confident and I could feel they didn’t like that. After I read two scenes, they just seemed uninterested in my final scene, I guess.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Nick,” Jack replied, an obvious smirk in his tone.
“And why’s that?” Nick asked, confused.
“Because, Nicholas Nelson, they’ve just offered you the job. You’re going to be making your West End debut as the lead role this Spring!”