*EDITING* Point Of View 1 [*Do not read until you have read The Winner*]

Bomb Dropping

*Trisha*

"I'm gonna fucking murder you. MURDER. You hear me?" I try to keep up the pace with Nate, but these heels aren't having it.  Elliott is right on my tail, too. After Nate's huge announcement, he dismissed himself from the meeting before it was over.

He thinks he's some hot shit right now, doesn't he? I can't even think of what's going through Elliott's head right now. Never mind the fact that Richard is going to have all of our heads. 

Yet Nate walks with his head held high and that stupid grin on his fucking face I want to slap right off. Why does he do these things to me?? Why does he create these messes for me to clean up!?

"Murder. YOU HEAR ME, HOLLAN?"

"Keep your voice down, Trisha."  Nate smiles brightly at me while hustling down the stairs to the studio. I can't keep up with him while holding my laptop, bag and all the shit we needed for the meeting he just skipped out of halfway through. Nate makes it to his studio room before me and Elliott do and is already sitting on the couch.

We storm into the room, and Elliott closes the door behind us. Paul looks up from his phone, having no idea what is going on.

"Are you trying to sabotage your life, Nate? Are you trying to make my job difficult?" Elliott sits down and puts his head in his hands. I begin to pace the studio.

"You couldn't have warned me first?" I glare at Nate.

"Why? You were never on board with my decision to bring Julia. You have been making that VERY clear, Banks."

"Not just that. Publicly announcing your engagement. Technically, you still have ties to Mila Giovanni. She went back home to give you time to detox...remember? That's what the general public thinks. You were supposed to keep your engagement with-

"Wait...you KNEW about his engagement to Julia Moretti?" Elliott's eyes widen at me now, and I begin to fumble with my words.

"Well... I mean... Things have been rocky... I didn't even think they were still -"

"Together, right?? That's what you were about to say." Nate cocks a brow at me. "Cuz, I fucked my imaginary Italian girlfriend for real, just like Richard wanted. But then I fucked up again with my relapse, forcing Mila back to Italy to stay away from negative media attention. You're right. We shouldn't even be together, me and Jules. But she forgave me. And she's wearing that one and a half million-dollar engagement ring as we speak. For the whole world to see. No more keeping it in the safe. I shouldn't have to hide SHIT."

"Nate..." Elliott breathes out in frustration. "There were other ways to go about this. You should have talked to me first. I would have-"

"Helped me go public? Bullshit. You would have tried to talk me out of it. Saying it would be career suicide. Announcing my engagement right before my world tour. Breaking hearts of adoring fans who thought they had a chance. You know what?? Fuck you, Elliott." Nate's British accent gets stronger as he gets more heated.

"I have fans who want to see me happy. Not FAKE. Happy. They are the ones I want to stick around. The tour is sold out. No money will be lost. The only fans I will lose are the haters. My true fans? They are the genuine ones. You know, the ones who pay money and come to my concert for the performance. For the music. Because it moves them in some way. Connects with them. Makes them feel something. Not in a fake way. I'm done being Richard's puppet. I'm done being fake. I'm done lying to my people. The people who made me who I am. The fans who helped me make it this far. It certainly wasn't RICHARD who got me to where I am. All Richard makes me want to do is drink ten bottles of whiskey and die somewhere. He does nothing for me. He sees me as a walking paycheck." He stands up.