Work Text:
First Take, Forever (Nell Fisher)
Underage, M/F
Nell Fisher’s phone buzzed against the worn oak nightstand in her childhood bedroom. London rain drummed steadily against the sash window. She was fourteen, still living under her parents’ roof in Notting Hill. Her big Netflix success, Stranger Things, and the box office success of Evil Dead Rise had not opened the doors she had hoped for. Auditions came and went; most casting directors saw her as “the girl from that show” and nothing more. Hollywood wanted something fresher, London wanted something edgier. She felt stuck.
The message was from Eric.
Eric: Mum’s gone to Brighton for the weekend. Flat’s empty. Come over? I’ve got the Prosecco you like and I’ve been thinking about you all day. I miss my girl.
Her stomach fluttered the same way it always did. Eric Langford, nineteen, tall and lanky, with warm brown eyes and a voice that could make even bad dialogue sound beautiful. They had met at a fringe workshop eight months ago and had been secretly together ever since. No one knew—not her parents, who would panic at the thought of their daughter dating an older guy, and not her small circle of industry friends. It was just theirs.
Nell: On my way. Twenty minutes. I love you.
She slipped out quietly, coat pulled tight against the rain, and took the bus. By the time she climbed the three flights of stairs to his door, her heart was racing with nerves and excitement.
Eric opened before she could knock. He wore his favourite grey hoodie, sleeves pushed up. The flat smelled of vanilla candle and the simple carbonara he had made. He pulled her inside and kissed her slowly, hands cupping her face.
“Hi, love,” he whispered. “God, I missed you.”
They ate on the sofa, talking about auditions and rejections, laughing softly between bites. Every few minutes he reached over to touch her hand or tuck her hair behind her ear. The Prosecco loosened the knot in her chest.
When the plates were cleared, the air between them changed. Eric looked at her with dark, hungry eyes.
“Nell… are you sure about tonight?” he asked gently. “We can wait. I don’t mind.”
She had told him months ago that she was a virgin. The confession had come out in a rush one night after they had almost gone further, and he had held her and promised he would never push. But lately the wanting had grown stronger than the fear.
“I’m sure,” she said, voice small but steady. “I want it to be you. I just… I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
Eric smiled softly and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “That’s okay. I’ll guide you. We’ll go as slow as you need. If anything feels wrong, you tell me and we stop. Promise?”
“Promise.”
He kissed her then, deep and reassuring. They stood and moved to the sofa bed he had already made up. Piece by piece he undressed her, kissing every new inch of skin he revealed—her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist. When she was down to her pale pink knickers he paused.
“Still good?” he asked.
Nell nodded, cheeks flushed. “Keep going.”
He slid the knickers down her legs and laid her back gently. For a moment he just looked at her, eyes full of wonder.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
Eric kissed his way down her body, taking his time. When his mouth reached the apex of her thighs he looked up for permission. Nell gave a tiny nod. His tongue was warm and gentle, licking slow circles around her clit until her hips started to move on their own. He slipped one finger inside her, then two, curling them softly while his tongue kept its steady rhythm. Pleasure built quickly. Nell’s breathing grew ragged.
“Eric… I think I’m—”
“Come for me, love,” he whispered against her.
The orgasm rolled through her in warm waves. She gasped his name, fingers tightening in his hair. When the tremors faded he kissed his way back up her body and held her close.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Amazing,” she breathed, smiling shyly. “But… I want more. I want you inside me.”
Eric kissed her forehead. “Okay. Let’s do this together.”
He stood and stripped off his own clothes. Nell’s eyes widened when she saw him fully naked for the first time. His cock was long and thick, flushed dark, the head already glistening. A flicker of nervousness returned.
“It looks… big,” she whispered.
Eric chuckled softly and climbed back onto the bed. “We’ll go very slow. I’ll help you the whole way.” He took her hand and guided it to him. “Touch me first. Get used to how I feel.”
Nell wrapped her fingers around his length. The skin was silky and hot. She stroked him tentatively, watching his face. Eric groaned quietly, eyes half-closed.
“Like that… yes. A little firmer at the base. Good girl.”
The praise made her bold. She pumped him slowly until he was breathing harder. Then he gently moved her hand away.
“Now lie back for me.”
Nell settled against the pillows. Eric knelt between her spread thighs. He took his cock in his hand and rubbed the blunt head up and down her slick folds, coating himself in her wetness and teasing her clit with every pass. Each glide sent sparks through her.
“Feel how wet you are?” he murmured. “That’s going to make it easier.”
He pressed the head against her entrance and paused. “Breathe, Nell. Relax your muscles. Push out a little when I push in—it helps.”
She nodded, heart hammering. Eric eased forward. Just the tip slipped inside. The stretch was immediate—tight, burning pressure. Nell winced and gripped his shoulders.
“Ow—wait—”
“Shh, I’ve got you.” He stopped moving instantly, staying perfectly still. “Breathe with me. In… out… That’s it. You’re doing so well. Just the tip right now. Tell me when the burn eases.”
They breathed together. After a minute the sharp sting faded into a deep, full ache.
“Okay,” she whispered. “More.”
Eric rocked forward another inch, then another, watching her face the whole time. “You’re so tight, love. So perfect. Tell me how it feels.”
“Full… really full,” she gasped. “It burns a bit but… I like it.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss her softly. “Good. I’m going to give you another inch now. Ready?”
“Yes.”
He slid deeper. The Evil Dead Rise actress felt a sharper pinch as he pressed against her barrier. Her eyes watered.
“Eric—”
“I know, baby. That’s your hymen. It might sting for a second. Keep breathing. Push out gently against me.”
She did as he said. With one careful thrust he broke through. Nell cried out softly, tears slipping down her temples. Eric froze again, buried halfway inside her.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, kissing the tears away. “You’re being so brave. I’m not moving until you tell me to. Just feel me inside you. You’re taking me so well.”
The pain gradually dulled. Nell shifted her hips experimentally. The discomfort melted into a strange, intense pleasure. The teenage actress is now a woman.
“Move,” she said quietly. “Slowly.”
Eric began to rock—tiny, shallow movements at first. Each gentle thrust pushed him a little deeper until he was fully seated inside her. Nell moaned, the sound surprised even her.
“Oh… that feels…”
“Good?” he asked, voice strained with the effort of holding back.
“Yes. Really good. Keep going.”
He set a slow, steady rhythm, hips rolling smoothly. One hand slipped between them to circle her clit with his thumb. The dual sensation made her head spin.
“Look at me, Nell,” he said softly. “I want to see your face while I’m inside you.”
Their eyes locked. The young Stranger Things actress wrapped her legs around his waist, heels resting on the small of his back. The angle changed and suddenly every thrust dragged against a spot that made sparks explode behind her eyes.
“Faster?” she asked, almost shy.
Eric smiled and picked up the pace, still careful but deeper now. The wet sounds of their bodies filled the little room. Nell’s moans grew louder, unrestrained.
“I’m close again,” she whimpered.
“Come for me, love. Come on my cock. Let me feel you.”
The words pushed her over the edge. Her walls clenched hard around him as the orgasm crashed through her. Eric groaned, pace faltering.
“Nell—fuck—I’m going to come—”
“Inside me,” she gasped. “Please. I want to feel it.”
With a deep, guttural moan he buried himself to the hilt and came, pulsing hot and thick inside her. Nell felt every throb, every spurt. It was the most intimate thing she had ever experienced.
They stayed joined for a long time, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in. When he finally softened and slipped out, a small trickle of his come mixed with a faint streak of her blood ran down her thigh. Eric noticed and reached for tissues, wiping her gently.
“You okay?” he asked, voice full of tenderness.
Nell smiled, glowing and a little dazed. “I’m more than okay. That was… perfect. Thank you for being so patient with me.”
He pulled the duvet over them and tucked her against his chest. “You were amazing. I love you so much.”
They stayed tangled beneath the duvet as pale London morning light filtered through the thin curtains, turning the tiny flat into a soft golden cocoon. Nell’s head rested on Eric’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat while his fingers traced lazy, soothing circles along the curve of her bare spine. The air still smelled of vanilla candle, Prosecco, and the faint musk of their lovemaking. Every small shift of her body reminded her of the delicious ache between her thighs—a sweet, secret reminder that she was no longer the same girl who had slipped out of her parents’ house the night before.
Eric pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours,” he whispered, voice low and warm like sunlight on water.
Nell tilted her face up to look at him. His brown eyes were soft, still heavy with sleep and satisfaction.
“I’m thinking… how lucky I am,” she said quietly. “That out of all the stages in London, I found you in that damp little church hall. Sometimes I lie awake worrying that I’ll never get another role like Stranger Things. That the phone will stop ringing and I’ll just be… Nell from Notting Hill who once had a Netflix credit. But when I’m with you, that fear feels smaller. Like maybe the universe is saving something better for us.”
Eric’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer until their noses brushed. “You are going to shine, Nell Fisher. I’ve watched you in workshops—you light up a room even when you’re nervous and forgetting lines. One day directors will fight over you, and I’ll be sitting in the front row of every premiere, proud enough to burst. And me?” He let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.
“Some nights I stare at the ceiling wondering if I should give up and get a proper job stacking shelves. But then I remember your laugh, the way you look at me like I’m already a leading man… and I keep going. You’re my reason, love. My secret North Star.”
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes—not sad ones, but the overflowing kind that came from too much feeling in one heart.
“I don’t want us to stay secret forever,” she confessed, tracing the line of his jaw with one fingertip. “One day I want to walk down a red carpet with your hand in mine, not worrying who might see. I want to shout from the rooftops that Eric Langford is the man who makes me brave. Who taught me how to feel… everything.”
He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away the single tear that escaped.
“And I want to stand beside you when that happens—watching my brilliant, beautiful girl take the world by storm. But until then, this secret world is ours alone. Our little stage where no one else gets to watch. Just you and me, learning every line of each other’s hearts.”
They talked for hours like that, voices soft and intertwined. Nell spoke of her fear that her parents would never understand her need to chase impossible dreams. Eric shared stories of his childhood in a small Essex town, how acting had been his escape from a life that felt too small. They dreamed aloud of a future flat they could afford together, of joint auditions, of lazy Sundays where they could kiss in public without looking over their shoulders. Every confession drew them closer, turning vulnerability into something sacred.
Eventually the conversation drifted into comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional kiss and the patter of rain against the window. But desire began to stir again—slow and warm, like embers rekindling. Nell shifted against him, feeling him harden once more where their bodies touched.
“Eric…” she whispered, suddenly shy again despite everything they had shared. “Will you make love to me again? Slower this time. I want to feel everything… and I want you to teach me how to move with you.”
His eyes darkened with fresh hunger, but his smile remained gentle. “Anything for you, my love. Come here.”
He guided her to straddle his hips, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him. Nell felt exposed and powerful all at once, her long hair falling around her shoulders like a curtain. Eric’s hands rested lightly on her waist, thumbs stroking the soft skin there.
“Touch me first,” he murmured, voice husky. “Learn me with your hands. I want you to know every part of the man who loves you.”
Nell reached down between them, wrapping her fingers around his thick, warm length. She stroked him slowly, remembering how he had shown her the night before—firmer at the base, lighter near the sensitive head. Eric groaned softly, hips twitching.
“Yes… just like that,” he praised, eyes half-lidded. “You’re a natural, Nell. Feel how hard I am for you? That’s what your trust does to me. Your beauty. Your open heart.”
Emboldened, she leaned down to kiss him deeply while continuing to stroke. Their tongues danced slowly, tasting morning and lingering Prosecco. When she finally sat up again, Eric took her free hand and guided it lower, showing her how to cup and gently massage him.
“Feel that?” he whispered. “Every inch of me belongs to you tonight.”
After several long, luxurious moments, he reached for her hips again. “Now lift up for me, love. Let me guide you onto me.”
Nell rose onto her knees. Eric held his cock steady with one hand, rubbing the swollen head slowly up and down her slick folds, teasing her clit until she whimpered with need. The sensation was electric—hot, silky pressure that made her thighs tremble.
“Breathe, beautiful,” he coaxed. “Sink down slowly when you’re ready. Take as much or as little as feels good. I’ve got you.”
She lowered herself inch by inch. The stretch was still new and intense, but this time there was no pain—only a deep, delicious fullness that made her gasp. Eric’s hands steadied her waist, helping her find balance.
“Oh… Eric,” she moaned softly as he filled her completely. “You feel so deep like this.”
“Look at me,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “Eyes on mine. I want to watch every flicker of pleasure on your face while you ride me.”
Their gazes locked. Nell began to move—tentative at first, small rocking motions that rubbed her most sensitive spot against his pelvis. Eric guided her rhythm with gentle pressure on her hips, showing her how to roll rather than bounce at the beginning.
“Like this, love… grind down. Feel how perfectly we fit? You’re taking all of me so beautifully. You’re made for this—for us.”
The praise melted her. Nell grew bolder, rising higher and sinking down with more confidence. Her breasts swayed with each movement; Eric reached up to cup them, thumbs circling her nipples until they tightened into peaks. The wet, intimate sounds of their joining filled the little room—obscene yet somehow sacred.
“Faster when you want,” he encouraged, one hand sliding down to where they were connected. His thumb found her clit, rubbing slow, perfect circles in time with her hips. “Chase what feels good. Use me, Nell. This body is yours to learn on.”
Pleasure built in deep, rolling waves. Nell’s head fell back, lips parted on soft, breathless moans. She found her own rhythm now—long, sensual strokes that dragged him against that magical spot inside her again and again. Eric’s breathing grew ragged, but he never stopped guiding, never stopped praising.
“You’re glowing, my love. So beautiful riding me like this. I can feel you getting tighter… you’re close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she gasped, nails digging lightly into his chest. “Eric… I’m so close.”
“Come for me then,” he whispered, voice like velvet and fire. “Let go. Say my name when you fall. I want to feel you shatter around me.”
The orgasm crested slowly, beautifully—starting deep in her core and spreading outward like warm light. Nell cried out his name—“Eric!”—as her walls clenched rhythmically around his cock, pulsing and fluttering in exquisite release. Her hips stuttered, but he steadied her, thrusting up gently to draw every last tremor from her body.
Only when she was trembling and glowing did Eric let himself follow. With a deep, reverent groan he pulled her down hard against him and came, pulsing hot and thick inside her. Nell felt every throb, every surge, as if they were sharing the same heartbeat.
She collapsed forward onto his chest, both of them slick with sweat and breathless. Eric wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while they floated down together. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, her temple, her lips.
“My perfect girl,” he murmured. “You were magnificent. So brave, so trusting. I fall in love with you all over again every time you let me in.”
Nell smiled against his skin, heart so full it ached. “I love you more than all the stages in London,” she whispered. “Thank you for teaching me… for making this feel like art. Like something holy.”
They lay like that for a long time, bodies still joined, trading lazy kisses and quiet words of devotion until the real world—auditions, parents, secrecy—felt wonderfully far away.
In the quiet hours before dawn Nell lay awake, sore in the sweetest way, listening to Eric’s steady heartbeat. She was no longer a virgin. She was his, completely. And whatever the future held—auditions, rejections, the long climb toward the careers they both wanted—she knew they would face it together.
Secretly. Fiercely. Lovingly.
The next weekend arrived faster than Nell expected. Her parents believed she was at a “script reading group” in Camden—an excuse that felt thinner every time she used it. She slipped out again under the same grey London sky, heart racing with a new kind of anticipation. The soreness from their first night had faded into a sweet reminder that lingered when she moved. She was no longer a virgin, but she still felt like one in so many ways. There was so much she didn’t know, and the thought of Eric showing her made her thighs press together on the Tube.
Eric’s flat smelled the same—vanilla candle, faint garlic from whatever simple dinner he’d thrown together. This time he greeted her with a slower kiss, hands sliding under her coat to pull her close.
“You came back,” he murmured against her lips, smiling.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Nell laughed softly, cheeks already warming.
“I hoped. But I also thought you might need time after… everything.”
She shook her head, rising on her toes to kiss him again. “I want more. I want you to teach me. I feel like I barely know anything.”
Eric’s eyes darkened with heat and something gentler—pride, maybe, or deep affection. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Then that’s what we’ll do tonight. No rush. I’ll show you everything you want to learn. You ask questions, you tell me what feels good. Deal?”
“Deal.”
They ate lightly—pasta again, because it was cheap and quick—then moved to the sofa bed. Eric had already dimmed the lights and put on a soft playlist of acoustic music that barely covered the sound of rain on the window. He undressed her slowly, piece by piece, naming each part of her as he kissed it.
“These shoulders,” he said, lips trailing along her collarbone. “So delicate. When I touch you here…” His fingers skimmed down her arms, raising goosebumps. “You shiver. I love that.”
Nell stood bare before him, feeling exposed but safe. He was still dressed, which somehow made it hotter. She reached for his hoodie, but he caught her hands gently.
“Not yet. Tonight is about you learning your own body first. Then mine. Lie down for me, love.”
She obeyed, stretching out on the duvet. Eric knelt beside her, fully clothed, and began to explore with his hands and mouth. He started at her neck, kissing and sucking lightly until she sighed. Then lower—over her breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn, showing her how different pressures felt.
“Soft licks first,” he whispered, demonstrating with the flat of his tongue. “Then a little suction… like this.” He drew her nipple deeper and Nell arched, a moan escaping.
“See? Your body responds differently to each. Tell me what you like best.”
“The suction,” she breathed. “When you use your teeth just a tiny bit.”
He smiled against her skin and obliged, grazing her with his teeth while his hand stroked her other breast. Heat pooled between her legs again. By the time he reached her stomach, she was squirming.
Eric parted her thighs gently and settled between them, but this time he didn’t use his mouth right away. Instead, he took her hand and guided it down.
“Touch yourself first,” he said softly. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone thinking about me.”
Nell’s face burned with embarrassment, but the way he looked at her—encouraging, hungry—made her brave. She slid her fingers through her folds, already slick, and circled her clit the way she usually did. Eric watched intently, one hand resting on her inner thigh.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Slower… yes. Now dip a finger inside. Feel how wet you get for me.”
She did, gasping at the sensation. He leaned in and replaced her hand with his own, showing her new rhythms—two fingers curling upward to stroke a spot inside that made her eyes flutter shut.
“That’s your G-spot, love. Feel how it swells when you’re turned on? Press here while you rub your clit with your other hand.”
Nell followed his instructions, her hips rocking. The dual stimulation built faster than before. Eric talked her through it the whole time, voice low and steady.
“Breathe through it. Don’t chase it too hard. Let it build… good girl. You’re getting so wet. I can hear it.”
The praise sent her spiraling. She came with a soft cry, walls clenching around her own fingers while Eric watched every second.
When she floated back down, he finally undressed. His cock was already hard, thick and flushed. Nell reached for it eagerly, but he stopped her again with a gentle hand.
“First, learn how to taste me. On your knees, if you’re comfortable.”
She knelt on the bed, nervous but excited. Eric knelt too, facing her, and guided her hand to wrap around the base.
“Start with your tongue. Lick from the bottom up… yes, like that. Feel the vein underneath? It’s sensitive.”
Nell licked experimentally, tasting salt and skin. Eric groaned, fingers threading lightly through her hair—not pushing, just resting.
“Now the head. Swirl your tongue around it. Good… now take a little into your mouth. No teeth. Suck gently while you move your hand up and down.”
She tried, cheeks hollowing. The weight of him on her tongue felt strange but intoxicating. Eric’s breathing grew ragged as he coached her.
“A bit deeper if you can… relax your throat. If it’s too much, just use your hand more. You’re doing perfectly, Nell. Look at me while you suck me.”
Their eyes locked. The eye contact made everything more intense. She found a rhythm—mouth and hand together—until his thighs trembled.
“Enough for now,” he said hoarsely, pulling back. “I don’t want to come yet. I want to be inside you when I do.”
He laid her on her back again and settled between her legs. This time he didn’t enter immediately. Instead he rubbed his cock slowly up and down her slit, teasing her clit with the head.
“Feel how hard I am for you? That’s because of how you just sucked me. Now ask me nicely.”
Nell bit her lip, shy but learning. “Please… put it inside me, Eric.”
He smiled and pressed in—slower than the first night, letting her feel every inch. The stretch was still there, but familiar now, turning quickly to pleasure.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he instructed. “Tilt your hips up a little. Yes—fuck, that’s deeper.”
He began to thrust, steady and controlled, one hand between them rubbing her clit. Nell moaned louder, nails digging into his shoulders.
“Try moving with me,” he whispered. “Meet my thrusts. Find what feels best for you.”
She did, experimentally rolling her hips. The new angle made him hit that sensitive spot inside again and again. Pleasure coiled tighter.
“Can we… try something else?” she asked between gasps.
“Anything. Tell me.”
“I want to be on top. But I don’t know how.”
Eric’s grin was warm. He rolled them smoothly so she straddled him, his cock still buried deep. “Hands on my chest for balance. Now lift up and sink back down. Go at your own pace.”
Nell rose and lowered herself, feeling him slide in at a new angle. It was deeper this way. She experimented with different speeds—slow grinds that rubbed her clit against his pelvis, then faster bounces that made her breasts move.
Eric’s hands gripped her hips, guiding but not forcing. “That’s it, love. Ride me. You look so fucking beautiful like this.”
The words spurred her on. She found a rhythm that made stars burst behind her eyes. Eric reached up to pinch her nipples lightly, then slid one hand down to rub her clit again.
“Come on my cock, Nell. Let me feel you squeeze me.”
She did—harder than before, crying out as the orgasm ripped through her. Her walls fluttered around him, milking him. Eric groaned, hands tightening on her hips as he thrust up to meet her through her climax.
When she collapsed forward onto his chest, panting, he kissed her hair. “You were incredible. But I’m not done teaching you yet.”
He flipped them again, this time entering her from behind while she was on all fours. “This angle feels different,” he explained, voice rough. “Deeper. Tell me if it’s too much.”
It wasn’t. It was intense—his hips slapping against her ass, one hand reaching around to rub her clit while the other stroked her back. Nell pushed back against him, learning to meet his thrusts even in this new position.
Eric leaned over her, chest to her back, and whispered filthy-sweet things in her ear. “You’re taking me so well. Your pussy feels like it was made for me. Come again for me, baby—I want to feel it while I’m buried deep.”
She came a third time, softer but longer, moaning into the pillow. Eric followed soon after, groaning her name as he spilled inside her once more, hot pulses that left her feeling claimed and cherished.
Afterwards they lay tangled, sweaty and glowing. Eric traced lazy patterns on her skin while she caught her breath.
“How do you feel now?” he asked.
“Like I know a little more,” she said with a shy laugh. “But there’s still so much… Can we keep doing this? You teaching me?”
“Every chance we get,” he promised, kissing her forehead. “Next time I’ll show you how to use your mouth until I come. Or we can try the shower. Or maybe tie my hands so you’re completely in control. Whatever you want to learn, Nell. I’m yours.”
They talked for hours again—about a callback she had coming up for a small theatre role in the West End, about Eric’s upcoming audition for a touring production that might actually pay. The secrecy still thrilled and terrified her, but lying in his arms made the outside world feel distant.
Later that night, after they had dozed and woken, Eric taught her one more thing: how to make love slowly, face to face, with almost no thrusting—just deep grinding and eye contact until they both shattered together in quiet, trembling release.
As dawn crept in, Nell dressed reluctantly, stealing one last kiss at the door.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you more,” he replied, the familiar words warming her all the way home.
Their secret nights were no longer just about losing her virginity. They had become a private classroom of pleasure, trust, and growing confidence—two struggling actors finding stardom in each other’s arms, one guided lesson at a time.
Nell Fisher slipped her key into the lock of the Notting Hill terrace just after 7:30 a.m., hoping the click would be swallowed by the morning traffic noise outside. Her hair was a mess of damp curls from the rain and Eric’s pillow, her cheeks still flushed from the long night of whispered lessons and laughter. She smelled faintly of vanilla candle and his cologne. The plan was simple: creep upstairs, pretend she’d been asleep the whole time, and avoid any questions.
The plan died the second she stepped into the hallway.
“Nell Fisher!” her mother’s voice rang out like a fire alarm. “Get in here right now!”
Nell froze, one trainer still half-off. Her dad appeared in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, newspaper clutched like evidence in a murder trial. Her mum stood by the kettle, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Where have you been?” Mum demanded, voice climbing an octave with every word. “You said you were staying at Sophie’s house for a script reading! We called Sophie’s mum at midnight because we were worried sick!”
Nell’s brain short-circuited. She kicked off the second trainer and tried for an innocent smile. “I… uh… I did stay at Sophie’s. We just… lost track of time. You know how it is with scripts. Deep character work. Very immersive.”
Her dad waved the newspaper like a flag of surrender. “Immersive? You walk in at half past seven in the morning looking like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards! And Sophie’s mum said you were never there!”
Nell felt her stomach drop. Of course they had phoned. Why hadn’t she thought of a better cover story?
“I can explain,” she said quickly, mind racing. “We… decided to move the reading to her cousin’s place in Hackney. Bigger kitchen table. Better for spreading out the pages. Then the last Tube was cancelled because of… leaves on the line or something. Classic London. So I crashed there. Totally innocent. Just acting stuff.”
Her mum planted both hands on her hips, the universal sign of impending doom. “Leaves on the line? At 2 a.m.? And you couldn’t text us? We were about to call the police!”
“I didn’t want to wake you!” Nell tried, voice pitching higher. “You always say I need to be more responsible with my career. This was me being responsible—staying out late for my craft!”
Her dad snorted. “Your craft? You smell like cheap vanilla air freshener and regret. And is that a love bite on your neck or did Sophie’s cousin have very enthusiastic stage combat practice?”
Nell slapped a hand over the faint mark Eric had left during one particularly enthusiastic “lesson” on neck kisses. Her face burned crimson. “That’s… foundation. Bad lighting in the reading. I bruise easily under stress. Method acting!”
Mum threw her hands up. “Method acting my foot! You’re fourteen, not twenty-four. You live under this roof, young lady, and that means you tell us where you actually are. No more sneaking out at night and crawling back at dawn like some sort of… nocturnal thespian!”
Nell bit her lip to keep from laughing at “nocturnal thespian.” It sounded like the title of one of Eric’s terrible fringe plays. She pictured him hearing the story later and dissolving into giggles on his tiny sofa bed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound contrite while fighting the grin threatening to break free. “It won’t happen again. Next time I’ll text. Even if it’s 3 a.m. and we’re still debating iambic pentameter.”
Her dad muttered something about “kids these days and their iambic excuses” and retreated behind his newspaper, but Mum wasn’t done.
“You’re grounded for the weekend. No more ‘script readings.’ And if I catch you smelling like vanilla and dodgy excuses one more time, we’re driving you to every audition ourselves. With a tracking app.”
Nell nodded vigorously, already calculating how she’d sneak a message to Eric about the sudden house arrest. “Understood. Totally grounded. Very responsible daughter mode activated.”
As she finally escaped upstairs to her room, she heard her mum mutter to her dad, “I swear, that girl is going to give me grey hairs before she gets her big break.”
Nell closed her bedroom door, leaned against it, and let out a silent laugh that shook her shoulders. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—Eric.
Eric: Made it home safe? Miss you already. Next lesson when?
She typed back quickly, still grinning.
Nell: Safe but grounded. Parents think I was doing immersive character work with Sophie’s cousin. Nearly got away with the leaves-on-the-line excuse. Send help… or more vanilla candles for camouflage.
Eric’s reply came with a string of laughing emojis.
Eric: Nocturnal thespian strikes again. I’ll work on better alibis. Love you, trouble.
Nell flopped onto her bed, sore in all the best places from the night’s adventures, and stared at the ceiling with a huge, secret smile. Her parents could ground her all they wanted. She had a secret boyfriend who taught her pleasure with patience and humour, and a career that still felt miles away—but at least her double life was hilariously chaotic.
Downstairs, her mum called up the stairs: “And no more late-night ‘readings’ until you’re thirty!”
Nell buried her face in the pillow to muffle her laughter. Thirty? By then she’d probably have an Oscar… and a much better excuse ready.
The End