*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 that 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 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 swoop 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 in 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.

Because at the end of the day, Nate is still just Nate. Still the same reckless, overthinking, impossible-to-deal-with kid who cares too much, even when he pretends not to. And Evan...calculated, always watching...has finally started to realize that. Nate might be a star to the world, but to the people who know him best, he's still the same 16 year old kid way over his head. He's still just a dog paddling through life, hoping his heart doesn't call it quits mid-stroke.

And sometimes, that's harder than anything else.

"You worry about him." Evan looks back out the window.

"I'll always worry about him."

"Think there will ever come a day when Nate chooses his health over all this?" Evan's question catches me off guard.

"Why can't he choose both?" I ask, furrowing my brows at Evan's suggestion that Nate doesn't take his health seriously.

"I don't know him as well as everyone else here does, but," The bodyguard inhales sharply, his eyes still gazing out the window of the moving tour bus. "I have a feeling he's always been the kind of person to push himself too far, to ignore the warning signs, to convince himself that he can handle anything...even when his body tells him otherwise."

I tense up hearing this, at how accurately Evan has figured out Nate. I look down at my hands. These hands that have cared for Nate, that have pulled whiskey bottles away from him, that have kept his life running when he couldn't. Pulled open the shades, pulled him out of bed. These hands have signed checks, paid bills, finalized contracts for him. These same hands have silenced monitors in a hospital room when the beep of his high blood pressure became too much for him to bear. These hands that show love to him. But that's where it ends.

There's only so much a person's hands can do for another. Eventually, something will force his hand. Whether it's exhaustion, illness, or the realization that he can't keep running forever, there will come a time when he has to make a choice.

The question isn't if...it's when.

"If Nate ever walks away from it all, it won't be because he wants to. It'll take something big, something that forces his hand, because no matter how much he complains, no matter how exhausted he gets, deep down, he needs it. The stage, the lights, the connection...it's in his blood." I explain, knowing Nate all too well.

"But even the brightest stars burn out. If Nate steps away from the industry for good, it would inevitably change your role in his life. As his personal assistant, your entire job revolves around keeping his career running...managing his schedule, coordinating travel, handling the endless details that come with being THE Nate Hollan. What will happen when it's all over?"

"Are you TRYING to freak me out, Scofield?? Jesus!" I snap and turn back around on the couch.

"Sorry- my intentions aren't to upset you, Miss Banks," He makes his way over and sits next to me now.

"Then what are your intentions? Because you sure have a way of bringing a girl down." I squint my eyes at the bodyguard.

"I think...." He sighs and with hesitation, continues. "I think Nate is struggling with his health. More than he's letting on. Are you prepared for it? If one day he's no longer able to-"

"Please stop talking." I croak out, push Evan's words away and stand up. "I can't deal with this right now."

***

I ignore Evan for most of the ride to the venue. He knows he touched a sore spot. Who the hell does he think he is, anyway? Nate's not hiding symptoms. We all see them. Nate doesn't hide shit from me, certainly not from Jonah when it comes to his health. I watch Nate's every move while he performed on stage tonight. Sure, a few times I did notice him a little out of breath more and sure, there were times his hand grabbed his chest when he turned around, but that's no different than any other night he is up there performing.

As a matter of fact- tonight was one of Nate's most energetic and best concerts yet!

"Ok, That was better than last's 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, 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 exact 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, 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 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 emotion 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.

******