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

Tonight was one of Nate's most energetic and best concerts yet!

"Ok, that was better than last night's concert!" Leslie winks at Nate, then opens the binder to go over the agenda. 

"Perfect concert, Playboy." I wrap my arms around his sticky neck. "You need a shower."

"Walk with me to the dressing room." He motions for me, Leslie, and Evan to follow, then nods to one of the other bodyguards. "Let Casey, Jonah, and Mila know I'll be back shortly."

As we move down the corridor, Leslie glances at the agenda in her hands. "You've got an overnight drive, which gives you a decent amount of sleep before we hit Nashville around noon. The only thing on the schedule tomorrow is your concert."

She flips to the next page. "The following day, you've got promo work, filming for the music video, and two radio interviews. Forty of the ninety trucks are already en route, and the second stage will be up and ready when you arrive. Half the Catering team is set for Nashville, and the other half will meet us in the Carolinas for the next stop. After that, we push up the coast one concert after another until we hit Maine, where your private plane will be waiting."

"Good, good. Trish, do you know where Jonah went? He left towards the last song." Nate asks while Evan opens the dressing room door, checks it out thoroughly before we are allowed to enter, then gives us the thumbs up.

"I think he had a phone call. Not sure. He stepped outside to take it. Here." I grab casual clothes for him to change into after his shower, and Leslie watches him head to the bathroom.

"If you need any help in there, just let me know!" Leslie hollers. I roll my eyes as Nate closes the bathroom door. "God, he's fine."

"You need an ice bath." I tease Leslie.

"No, I need more Coke." She says bluntly. "My job is done. Time to go enjoy the afterparty."

"You do that." I give her another eye roll and watch Leslie leave the room, leaving me here with Evan.

"She gets high a lot." He mutters, still standing on guard by the door.

"She probably needs to at this point in the game to keep up with all of Richard's demands." I snort.

"Do you?" An eyebrow is raised, and my eyes practically bug out of my head.

"ME? Evan Scofield, you know me by now. I don't even drink!"

"True." He nods. "Miss Banks, I apologize for overstepping boundaries earlier today. It wasn't my place to say-"

"You're fine, hotstuff." I brush him off. "I get it. We're ALL worried about Nate. I just try not to dwell on it because it scares the shit out of me."

Evan's shoulders sag. Hearing this, he's about to say more when his phone rings...which doesn't happen often. When it does, it's usually-

Paul.

"Yes, sir." Evan turns away while talking into the phone. I don't get much from the one-sided conversation, though. Though I do hear a muttered "Christ" under Evan's breath. Something is wrong. If it IS Paul calling, that means it has something to do with Julia or James. My guess would be Moretti. Evan hangs up, and not two seconds later, there's a tap on the dressing room door. At the same time, my phone goes off.

Evan lets a very distraught Jonah into the dressing room while I answer my phone.

"Hey Paulie, you only call me these days if it's bad news. What now?"

"I need you to be there for Hollan, Trish." Paul's voice is low, stern, and tired. My eyes follow Jonah, who enters Nate's bathroom, then land on Evan.

"Talk, Paul."

"Moretti-" He pauses, his voice sounds so far away, broken, like whatever happened today really took a toll on the big guy. "She- they.."

"Spit it out."

"They had to sedate her."

While staring at Evan, listening to Paul, I purse my lips together and shake my head.

"It all just caught up to her. James...this shit with Mila and Hollan all over the news, she just....it was like she was having a panic attack. She couldn't breathe, Trish. Like-literally having trouble breathing." Paul rambles, something he rarely does.

 This got to him. I imagine he was with her and witnessed the panic attack with his own eyes. I've had panic attacks. I know that feeling of not being able to suck in enough air. That's how I got my own Ativan prescription for the rare times it happens.

"He didn't even give it to her as a pill. Before anyone could think twice, the needle was injected."

"Shit." I grab on to the edge of the couch to steady myself and feel Evan take my hand to guide me to sit down. He then sits next to me and holds my free hand. "Do you think-"

"Donovan? I don't know." Paul answers before I need to finish my thought, because none of us trust Jeremy, and I wouldn't put it past the fucker if he went too far and sedated her too much. "It was pretty bad. Maybe it was the only option. She- it was like she stopped breathing. She was so worked up, her coloring changed- I don't know, Trish."

This fucked with Paul's head. I can hear it in his voice, and that kills me. He's already had to deal with this type of shit with his bipolar mother; now he's CHOOSING to fall in love with Julia and choosing to deal with it all over again? I just don't get it. Can't seem to wrap my brain around it.

"Just..watch over Hollan, ok? He's not gonna take this well, Trish. At all." Paul ends the conversation there.

I toss my phone on the couch and shake my head. "It won't be concerts or a tour that kills Nate. It will be Julia and all her shit that takes his final breath." I blurt out. Evan doesn't respond, but we both can hear the conversation happening in the bathroom now.

 "No. Fuck. No!"

Nate's British voice is heard through the wall, and I drop my head in my hands. The sobs I hear coming out of him break me down.

"Ma'am? How can I help??"

"Just...." I lift my head and wipe my tears. "Nate doesn't like to show his emotions around other people. Can you wait outside? Because I know him. He's gonna be a mess."

"Yes, of course." Evan scrambles to his feet and heads for the door, but turns around before opening it. "Are you ok??"

"I'm fine." I lie, not used to someone asking ME if I'm ok.

After ten minutes of listening to Nate breaking down, Jonah leads him out of the bathroom in just a towel around his waist. 

"Evan is guarding outside the door," I glance at Jonah, who shakes his head. Then I wrap my arms around Nate's wet, trembling body and sit him down on the couch in just the towel.

"I'll help him get dressed," I say. Jonah catches the cue and steps out of the dressing room.

 "I talked to Paul. I'm sorry, sweetie. I know it's the last thing you want to hear."

"She was sober for so long." Nate's voice cracks, and he buries his face in my shoulder. "She's gonna have to go through detox again. Fucking again!"

"I know. Come on. Let's get you dressed. We'll skip the afterparty, get right on the road, yeah?" I lift his head with both hands, cradling his face. "Paul is with her. She's in good hands. She's in the right place."

Nate nods. It's all we say. I help his shaky body get dressed and let him cry as long as he needs to. Eventually, Jonah and Casey come back in, and Nate is given Ativan. 

The same thing that fucks Julia up is the thing that calms Nate down.

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