My publicist had mentioned the unwanted attention that rising superstars got. Stalkers and the like, fake friends who would do anything to get into your life before turning into your worst nightmare. Yeah, he was probably being a little too melodramatic but he got the point across.

Even when we were on the road or on set. The film studio and human resources department only ever provided us with the most discreet companies out there. Those that offered complete and utter discretion.

Discretion was always advised when dealing with famous people. So pretty much everyone employed by them was given the whole rigorous testing protocol, background checks, data protection contracts and clauses. They also had to have damn good indemnity and personal liability insurances because there would be no way in hell that the film studio would reimburse if the incident was caused by their own foolish mistakes.

The film studios were only there to make money and boy did they. It was a carousel, a merry go round.

The sheer amount of money they make on a yearly basis is obscene, and yes, the actors, if they are good, also make some good money too.

Lucky for us, that I had enough money to get him to a private hospital. The others ones, even though not especially full, always have that chance that someone there will recognise you and before you know it, the press are there too.

But having the press show up, doesn't look bad on the hospital, does it? Oh no, not at all, it looks bad on the celebrity because obviously, they brought it upon themselves by making the mistake of going there in the first place to get emergency healthcare. It's ridiculous really, we set ourselves apart from our fans and the general public because as soon as we're famous, we become a magnet for any and all sort and everyone thinks we've done it on purpose.

No, this place is so much better, privacy is afforded to all who can afford the healthcare insurance, discretion is always given and privacy above all else. Heck, hey even have a secluded entrance for people like me to use with valet parking. I'm not bragging or anything, honestly. Just telling it how it is.

There's the discretion thing again. Not to mention, the rooms are all private.

So here I am, sitting with my son.

He is currently having his eyebrow glued by a paediatric consultant who is likely paid a small fortune too. They don't want to risk stitches, they say that they would have to sedate him for that and that's something no parent ever wants to see.

Currently, he's being pacified by his favourite toy, with a soother in his mouth. He got himself in so much of a state that even though he's not crying now, he's still sniffling. His little blue eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed with tiredness.

The Paediatrician had wanted to check that he had no signs of cranial trauma, they had to rule everything out. So after a few hours of checking and thirty-minute observations, we were sitting back in our private children's hospital room.

He was still sitting up in a hospital cot bed, sniffling every once in a while.

"Whilst he's here you may as well get him vaccinated, he's due his yearly boosters." The nurse stated with a smile.

"Sure, why not." Her reasoning won out over mine and wanting to get him back home.

I chanced a glance at my watch, it was just after midnight. The nurse got my attention again, she offered me a sheet, with the list of four vaccinations that he needed at a year old, followed by a crossed area that required my signature.

"Sorry buddy, you're gonna hate me even more after this." I sighed and looked at the list of things he'd need. It ranged from Meningitis B and C, pneumococcal and the dreaded MMR.

"He might feel a little feverish after these but just offer him his regular analgesia if his temperature goes over 38C, okay?"

"Okay," I mumbled slowly and watched as another nurse came in to countersign the list of medicine they were drawing up into their four syringes.

"It might be best if you hold him tightly, facing you or away...either is fine. We just need you to hold him firm so he doesn't wriggle."

I don't know what I was thinking but I asked anyway? "Why would I need to hold him tight?"

I could tell she was thinking it, first-time father and only child."

"It's simply so he doesn't pull away when the needle goes in. Believe me, Mr Gordon, we've lost count of the number of babies we've had to double jab because the measured dose didn't go in when the child flinched."

I did as they asked and snuggled him into my chest. It was a feeling I hadn't felt for so long as his tear soaked face rested against me. I placed one hand on his head and allowed him to listen to my heart, hoping that it would provide him with some reassurance. It was similar to how Libby would have done when he was still newborn.

He settled almost immediately, although I could still feel him sniffling every so often. My other arm held his back and waist firm as the nurses took their respective positions around me.

They didn't even count down, both went into his upper arms at the same time and within a few seconds he wailed loudly in response. Sheesh, these nurses were so ruthless, I guess they had to be, they were dealing with kids and not only that, they were dealing with parents.

Again they both disposed of the needles as I tried to soothe Jay again. His little face was so angry, it was a good job I wasn't hormonal otherwise I would have cried with him, in fact, I'm sure Libby did just that when she took him for his first lot of jabs.

"Next set is in the thighs, much more fatty tissue to perfuse in." She reasoned with me as she knelt down on one side whilst the other did the same.

"Once we're done here you're free to go. Doctor's orders, being that you've signed the discharge forms and there's no cranial damage." The senior nurse mentioned.

"Sorry Jay, a necessary evil," I whispered as he calmed again.

Then I felt him tense in my grasp once more as the needles were both pushed into both his chubby thighs, the contents quickly released.

I didn't even notice them getting up to dispose of their needles, I didn't even see them leave the room or sign their paperwork or leave me a form. I was too busy trying to console him again. He was hysterical, poor little guy. He even kicked his baby sneakers off as he wriggled to evade my grasp.

"I'm so sorry Jay, today has been absolute hell for you, and it was all my fault."