Point Of View 2 [*Do not read until you've read the same chapter of ATW]

Chapter 169 & 170 I Am Not That Girl/ Black Hole Sun

*Trisha*

Mila isn't used to tour life, and both Nate and I notice right away. I mean- This is MILA GIOVANNI. The 23-year-old supermodel is accustomed to the kind of luxury most people can only dream of. Million-dollar silk sheets, imported cashmere loungewear, five-star penthouses with panoramic city views... these are not indulgences to her, but expectations. She's used to stepping into chauffeur-driven cars, sipping champagne at private runway shows, and having her every whim catered to before she even speaks it aloud. Not hours on a tour bus with five strangers eating junk food!

Nate sits next to me on the couch, thinking the same,  while Mila walks around the tour bus and checks everything out. Jonah, Casey, and Evan are already making themselves at home, getting comfortable for the drive.

"She's not impressed, Playboy," I whisper when Mila isn't looking. "She's not the kind of girl that goes on tour."

"Well aware..."

"You literally own the most expensive tour bus. She knows that, right? There's nothing out there better or bigger than this." 

"It's still a bus. She's used to penthouse suites, shopping, spas..."

"She's on tour. Not the Ritz-Carlton spa in Bali." I snort. "They must have warned her what it's like."

"I'm forced to have Mila here, and she's forced to be here. Nothing I can do about that." He shrugs. "It will take her a little time to adjust, that's all."

Nate's phone buzzes in his back pocket, making him shift slightly to pull it out. "Christ. It's Donovan."

"He realizes you are now on your world tour, correct?" I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. Nate takes his call on the other side of the bus for privacy, and I sigh deeply.

Evan leans against the side of the bus, arms crossed, eyes scanning out the window at the highway we are on. He's always watching, always listening, like Paul, never fully at ease, even when the others are lost in their own world. It's his job to be alert, but what the fuck does he think is going to happen right now? A helicopter swoops down and abduct Nate? Believe me, they will send him back five minutes later when they are sick of his complaining.

"You ever get tired of it?" I ask the bodyguard, who looks away from the window when he realizes I'm talking to him.

"Of what?"

"Always being on edge and aware? The never-ending stress of making sure no one takes a shot at our star player?" I scoff. 

He smirks. "You get tired of breathing?"

"So that's what it is for you? Survival instinct?"

Evan rolls his shoulders but doesn't answer me.

I watch him for a moment, then set my phone down, shifting forward slightly. "You don't ever turn it off, do you?"

"No," he finally says, voice quieter. "Not really."

I study him, my expression softer now, less teasing. "That's gotta be exhausting."

Evan lets out a short chuckle, running a hand over his bearded jaw. "I sleep just fine. I knew what I signed up for when I took this job. Protecting your 'star player' and all."

I think Evan's starting to see beyond the carefully crafted image, past the headlines. He's been around long enough now to see the real Nate... to see his patterns. The way Nate leans into the chaos, how he thrives off it, but also how it wears him down. How the fame, the pressure, the expectations, all fight against the person he actually is underneath it all.