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his garage - but not his worst, either. One
    sub had daubed "shithead loser!" all over his
    bedroom walls in bright pink lipstick, while
    another had helped herself to the contents of his toy
    chest before leaving. It had taken him years to
    build up that toy chest and it contained some of his
    favorite play equipment. He'd been sad for nearly
    half an hour before he realized it was a good
    excuse to go shopping, and then he'd spent one of
    the best days of his life flashing his credit card
    around some of the most exclusive toy boutiques in
    LA, rebuilding his collection. Every cloud had a
    silver lining, and if anyone was going to find that
    lining it was Rick.
    He ran down the stairs to his garage, threw
    one long leg over his shining black Harley, revved
    the engine, and sped off towards the studio.

Chapter Two
    Matthew Lake stared at Daniel Mayfield, and
    Daniel stared back, tapping one finger lightly on
    his script as they waited.
    "Where the hell is he?" Matt hissed. "I
    wouldn't mind, but this is the third time this
    month!"
    "You've kept count?" Daniel raised an
    eyebrow, and Matt bit on his lip, flushing.
    "I count everything. I can't help myself. I also
    know how many times it's rained this month and
    how many times you've tapped your finger on that
    script," he confessed.
    "It can't be easy being locked up inside your
    brain." Daniel glanced at Petra, the show runner,
    who was standing to one side with a look of
    thunder on her face, bashing her finger repeatedly
    onto the keypad of her cell phone. "Wherever he
    is, I have a feeling Petra will have something to
    say to him when she finally gets him to answer his
    phone," Daniel murmured.
    "Poor Rick." Matt felt a surge of genuine
    sympathy for his co-star. Rick was the most
    infuriating actor he'd ever worked with, but he also
    had the ability to lift a set just by setting foot on it.
    His huge personality brightened every room he
    was in, and he made the long hours and hard work
    fun, even on the days when they really weren't.
    A second later there was the usual loud
    clattering sounds and change in energy that
    signaled Rick had arrived, and he strode onto the
    set, still in his own clothes, waving his arms
    around apologetically.
    "I'm so sorry everyone!" he yelled. "Domestic
    emergency!"
    "You mean you overslept?" Daniel asked
    smoothly.
    "More likely a sub slept over," Matt muttered,
    and Daniel stifled a laugh.
    "I'm here now! I'm ready," Rick announced to
    the room at large. The cast and crew loved him,
    for all his wayward ways and truly abysmal
    timekeeping, so Matt could sense that Rick was
    instantly forgiven - but not by Petra.
    "It's the third time this month, Rick," she
    scolded.
    "Who's counting?" Rick spread his arms
    wide. "Well, except Matty of course, but he counts
    everything." He shot a grin in Matt's direction.
    "I'm counting!" Petra snapped.
    "Three times in a month isn't that many."
    "It's only the ninth today!"
    "Ah. Okay. Sorry." Only Rick could somehow
    manage to look naughty, contrite and utterly
    adorable all at the same time. He was like a big,
    overgrown puppy.
    "I want to see you in my office after this
    scene's done," Petra said grumpily. "And you're
    not ready; go and change your clothes, get your ass
    into make-up, and put your damn collar on!" She
    turned and stomped off, and Rick grimaced
    broadly at her retreating back.
    "I'm in trouble," he lamented to the room,
    with theatrical mournfulness.
    "Yes, you are. Now go and get ready.
    Filming's been held up for long enough because of
    you," Daniel said tersely. Although he was the lead
    actor on the show he rarely threw his weight
    around, so if he handed out a reprimand it really
    stung.
    Rick certainly got the message, and he hurried
    off to his trailer to get changed without the usual
    theatrics, much to Matt's relief.
    Matt paced around the set, going over his
    lines repeatedly in his head while he waited,
    hating the delay as it gave him too much time to
    fret about his