Panic Attack

In her car, Heather gripped the steering wheel. She was trembling. While Alex swung his legs in the backseat.

Penny's name flashed on her phone.

You alive?

Barely.

What's wrong?

Caius saw him.

Penny sent a shocked emoji. He didn't recognize him, did he?

No.

Good... And that's a good thing?

Heather stared up at Alex in the rearview mirror, his nose, his frown, the way he hummed when he was happy. He looked just like Caius.

I don't know.

Heather's hands began trembling so violently her keys slipped from her grip. Her lungs burned, each breath felt like fire in her chest.

Inhale. Exhale.

But the air wouldn't come. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision. The world narrowed to the sound of her heartbeat. The air inside the car thickened, pressing against her lungs like concrete.

Breathe. Just breathe.

But her body betrayed her. Each inhale came in shallow, fractured gasps, as if her ribs had splintered inward.

"Mommy?" Alex's voice cut through. "Why are you crying?"

She didn't even notice when the tears dropped. And she couldn't answer. Couldn't speak. This wasn't the first time. The panic attacks had haunted her since she was sixteen, since the night her father had locked her in his study for "disrespecting" Evelyn. But this? This was worse.

"Mommy, breathe!" Alex unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning forward to grip her shoulder. "Four seconds in, seven hold, eight out. Like Penny taught you!"

She tried. Failed. The numbers tangled in her head.

"I'm… I'm okay," she choked, her hands fumbling for the car handle. Cold air punched her face as she staggered out, collapsing against the hood of her car. The hot metal burnt her palms, but she clung to the pain, real, grounding.

Alex hovered beside her, his small face pale. "Should I call Penny?"

She shook her head, forehead pressed to the steel.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

A shadow fell over her.

"Heather."

Caius. Her mind screamed. She didn't want him here, what was he doing here? Why did he keep bothering her? She braced to shove him away.

"Look at me. You're hyperventilating."

The voice was wrong.

She forced her head up.

Jake Calloway stood there, his wore disturbing sun glasses. Too big. Not a good fit.

"Don't… touch me," she rasped.

He raised his hands, but didn't retreat. "In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Slow."

"Go away."

Alex wedged himself between them, glaring up at Jake. "Leave her alone."

Jake ignored him, his gaze locked on Heather. "You're shaking."

"I said go..."

"Jake. Jake Calloway." He crouched to meet Alex's furious stare. "And you are…?"

"None of your business," Alex snapped.

Heather finally dragged in a full breath, the cold air sharpened her senses. Her breathing normalized. A little bit still short, but she could talk through it. "Jake. Why are you here?"

He shrugged . "Coincidence."

"You're at a school picnic."

"I'm everywhere. Sponsoring things. Helping out anyway I can."

"Bullshit."

"Language," Alex muttered.

"You don't think I'm a nice guy?"

She glared at him.

Jake threw his hands up. "Fine. I followed you."

Why did he follow her? Is it because she ignored his texts? "Are you stalking me?"

"Observing," he corrected. "You keep leaving set early. 'Emergencies.' I'm curious, what's more important than my movie."

"Plus, I come on set to see those eyes. I'm pissed you keep taking it away from me." He thought.

She bristled. "Your movie?"

"VestorCorp's funding half of it. I'm the other half."

Men. She's the goddamn owner of this movie. And they're calling it theirs, cause they sponsored a chicken nugget of it? She never wanted sponsors, but those companies pleaded.

His gaze turned to Alex. "Who's the kid?"

She was silent for a while. She couldn't tell him who Alex was and this was unexpected. She had to go with a lie. Anything to stir him away from the truth. "A friend's son. I'm helping out." She looked at her phone, "Speaking of which, I have to go. She's calling."

"Your phone didn't ring."

Damn, it. Why's he so persistent? How was she going to get away from him, without making him think she's trying to get away from him?

"Miss Heather!" Alex interjected, loud and deliberate. "I want to see my mommy."

Heather sighed. Relieved.

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Clever kid."

Heather seized the out. "I have to go."

"Wait." Jake stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You're not okay. Let me..."

"No." She yanked the car door open. "And if you follow me again, I'll file a restraining order."

Alex buckled himself in, his eyes narrowed at Jake through the window. "Who's that man? "

"No one."

"Jake Calloway."

Oh, God. "Stop it, Alex." She knew how he was. One moment he's repeating names, the next he's researching and knowing things.

He was silent for a moment, as if thinking. "He's lying. He likes you."

Heather choked. "What?"

Alex tapped his temple. "He noticed you leave set, which means he watches you rehearse. And it usually takes up to six to twelve hours. Normal people get bored after two minutes."

Her knuckles whitened on the wheel.

Alex held up Caius's business card. "Daddy gave me this."

She swerved. "Give me that!"

He snatched it back. "Daddy said I'm brave. Is he lying too?"

"He's not your daddy. And put that in my hands."

"You're driving."

She gave him one last stare before turning back to the road.

When they finally pulled into the driveway, Heather killed the engine and slumped forward, her forehead rested against the wheel.

"Give it," she said finally, her voice raw.

Alex didn't pretend not to understand. He slapped the card onto her palms.

They finally went inside. Alex didn't look too happy as he strode to his room. She dropped her bag on the counter and sank to the floor, back against the wall, and dragged her knees to her chest. The panic was quieter now, a dull roar instead of a scream, but it still moved in her veins like poison.

Caius knows about Alex. Jake knows about Alex. But it felt like everyone else knew too.

She'd spent five years building walls, burying secrets, pretending Miss H and Heather Remington were two different people. Now, in a single afternoon, her walls were collapsing.

Heather sighed. She should probably prepare dinner. Just as she was standing up, her phone buzzed. She reluctantly scribbled her bag for her phone. Then she saw a text from Jake.

P.S. Your "friend's son" has your eyes.

Damn, it.