Without You

2. He Wasn't All Right

It was 10AM on 31 March 2018, and the morning script meeting was well underway for that evening's "Saturday Night Takeaway.' A far earlier start than usual, but that was due to there being so much to discuss. Dec was hunched over on his seat, staring at his script, unable to meet anyone's eyes. They were discussing how Ant's absence should be addressed. Again. It had been the hottest topic of conversation, both during ITV meetings and in the press, for the past week. Dec was over it all. He was sick of hearing everyone pussy-footing around the subject – around him – and just wanted to yell at them all to shut up. He had absolutely no intention of drawing yet more attention to what Ant had done by addressing that directly.

There were all sorts of rumors in the press that he was going to give an impassioned speech about his friend, wishing him well in his recovery, yada yada....Why the heck would he do that when Ant wasn't even going to be watching? He was back in rehab – all access to the outside world had been cut off. And anyway, there was no bloody way he'd ever get through that – he'd break down after the first sentence. It would be a miracle if he got through the show tonight without breaking down.

"So, Dec, what do you think of that idea?" One of the producers was speaking to him, but their voice was just a distant whisper. "Dec? You listening?"

"What? Yeah, yeah, that's fine." Dec had no clue what they'd been talking about. He'd completely zoned out, tired mind struggling to keep up.

"Do you even know what we were discussing?!" The producer sounded seriously annoyed now, and Dec raised his bleary gaze to meet theirs, instantly regretting it. "What the hell do you think you're playing at, Dec?! How do you expect to get through a live show tonight if you can't even pay attention during a script meeting??" they railed at him, causing him to shrink back slightly.

Jaw cracking loudly as a wide yawn tore through him, Dec started to defend himself but was cut short.

"Would it be too much trouble for you to stay awake right now? I mean, seriously," the producer's voice had taken a decidedly acidic tone, eyes piercing into Dec, even as another member of the team told them to "cool it" and leave Dec alone.

Dec 's gaze was trained on the table in front of him. Mumbling a half-hearted apology, he tried to focus as discussion regarding his opening lines began. Resting his head heavily on his hand, his eyes slowly drooped closed. Only to snap open a moment later when an angry voice hit him.

"Wake the f*** up!!!"

That was it. He'd had enough. Shoving his chair back, Dec stared down their disrespectful employee, bristling with anger. "YOU can shut the f*** up!" he snarled, eyes burning, "I've had two weeks from hell! I got 30 minutes' sleep last night – I'm so knackered I can barely think! I have NO patience for this right now. So either shut up or go home!"

Hesitating for a moment, Dec followed his tirade up with another shorter one. "And you should be bloody well thankful to me for not firing your sorry a*** right this moment. You'd be sacked by now if Ant – {his voice cracked painfully} – heard you talking to me like that!!!"

Stunned silence reigned for a brief moment, before one of the senior producers motioned for the target of Dec's anger to leave the room. Beating a hasty retreat, despite throwing one last venomous glare in Dec's direction, they exited the room, leaving behind an uncomfortable tension hanging in the air. Dec had sunk back into his chair exhaustedly as soon as the offending producer left, and was now staring vacantly at his script, picking at the corner of the page, unable to raise his gaze, feeling everyone's eyes on him. He knew that had been unprofessional, but he couldn't help it. He'd never been this stressed out in his life, and he really wasn't coping.