*Trisha*

I'm trying to not only listen to the doctor but also calm my nerves. I'm on the verge of a panic attack and don't have time for this shit. I'm the one who keeps it together not the one who falls apart. I leave that one up to Moretti. 

Hospital settings have never been my strong suit. Not since Mom got sick. Yet I find myself in them more often than not lately with Nate's heart condition. Between that, the car accident that affected us all, the miscarriage... I've spent more time touring hospitals than touring around the world this year.

 I'm trying to keep myself together and  pay attention to Dr. Simms, but it's a hard task at the moment.

"You will be given a temporary Pacemaker ID card-" The doctor explains to Nate.

"A what?" I blurt out and Jonah shakes his head. 

"I'll explain it all later, ok? Hey..." Jonah notices I'm breathing a little heavier and my heart is pounding a little harder. "Take a breath ok?"

I nod.

"A permanent one from the manufacturer will be mailed within 6-8 weeks. He will need to carry this card with him always. And I mean always." The doctor says sternly. "You may be able to feel or see the outline of the pacemaker under your skin, which becomes less noticeable over time."

I think that was the moment it really hit Nate. Knowing that you can actually feel and see the outline of a pacemaker made it all feel real. He shields his face and begins to cry so I grab his hand and hold it to comfort him.

"Miss Banks. It says here you and... Mr. Marshall, are both listed as his emergency contacts?"  Both Jonah and I nod.

"He's going to need rest. Lots of it. Resuming his tour is medically out of the question. Not only that, you...or whoever lives with Mr. Hollan, will have to keep a good eye on him. His first check-up after he is sent home will be in two weeks. Then four weeks."

Medically out of the question? Sent home?  Yeah tell that to Richard!

"Then he will have appointments every three months for the first year and once a year after that, if all looks well."

This is life-changing. All of it. I'm gonna have to call Elliott. Richard.. This isn't some minor thing. This is something that is going to affect the rest of Nate's life.That means it will impact his work too, along with everyone employed alongside him.

A million things are running through my mind and I'm grateful Jonah is soaking it all in because I sure as hell am not. Jonah will need to explain it all to me later. I'm too much of a mess right now and we all know Nate sure as hell isn't paying attention. He's friggen doped up on whatever sedatives and painkillers they gave him in the ambulance.

"So, Mr. Hollan. Now's the time to decide." The doctor holds out a clipboard with important papers.

"I...What do I do?" Nate looks to me. Then to Jonah. 

"Nate.... We knew you'd need a pacemaker sooner or later." Jonah takes over. "It's time, brother."

The pen hadn't even touched the clipboard for a full second before the double doors burst open. Once Nate's signature was written the room became chaotic. A nurse sweeps in first, grabs the clipboard, and quickly scans through it."Dr. Simms needs him prepped now. Ten-minute countdown," she says, briskly.

Nate barely had time to process the whirlwind around him. The anesthesiologist arrives next, explaining calmly but quickly what would happen: the oxygen mask, the IV, what he might feel before going under. Technicians clips monitors to his chest, logging vital signs in real time.

I'm no longer holding Nate's hand, instead being ushered aside by a staff member. "You can wait just outside. We'll update you the moment we can." 

My eyes lock with Nate's just long enough for a silent message to pass between us. You've got this playboy. I know you do. Nate nods and closes his eyes, feeling the effects of everything going on around him..

Next thing I know- I'm out in the hallway and Nate is being whisked away by a team of surgeons and nurses. It's one thing to casually need a pacemaker, but it's a completely different situation when there's a history of heart problems and the procedure is an emergency.

"Are you alright, Miss Banks?" Evan is the first to notice that, no, I'm not alright. Jonah is busy updating Casey on what's happening.

"I can't believe this is happening." I breathe out, almost to myself. But it's happening. I know it's really happening. I knew it was only a matter of time. "Shit. I need to call Leslie. And Nate's publisher, and oh God, I'm gonna have to reach out to Ric-"

"Hey." Evan puts both hands on my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes, trying to ground me. "That can all be done later, Trisha."

"Is everything all set for security? I should call Paul.."

"Ma'am..." He squeezes my shoulders a little, his eyes still locked with mine and brows raised. "Everything is taken care of. Sit down."

I scratch the side of my head not caring how I mess up my hair, and nod.  I don't like this feeling. I feel useless. helpless. Like everything is out of control. My control.

Because it is.

*******

*James*

I feel like I'm alert and awake but know that I'm not. I can feel, and hear everything going on around me yet can't move, see or speak. 

And something is wrong. Julia cries. Paul tries to calm her. There's chaos all over. It's Nate. There's something wrong with Nate. 

I need to wake up. I need to be there for Julia. She can't deal with this stuff alone. She has a hard time with it all. 

But I can't find my way. I'm trying but everything is just...lost. I don't know which way to go. I know if I go that way, towards the light- I'm at the beach with Carter, enjoying the warmth of the sun, the softness of the sand, the sweetness of Carter's little voice. But if I turn that way, I walk into the darkness. More than that. Pure black. But in that darkness I can hear everyone. Paul, Julia, Cara, Trevor. Hell, I think Lindsay was here at some point. I hear them all. I just can't get to them.

*****

*Trisha*

It's been an hour. An hour with no news. I have no idea how long it takes to get a pacemaker put in but do know it takes some time for the pain meds to do their magic first, sedation. We've pretty much been barricaded in a small vacant waiting room down the hall while mayhem breaks loose everywhere else. 

Footage shows a scene erupting into pandemonium. Fans are on edge after seeing  by emergency rescue. When news hit that THE Nate Hollan was being rushed into surgery, the crowd lost control. Shouts turned to chants. People stood on chairs, demanding updates. Security scrambled as fans pushed against barriers, trying to get closer to the tunnels, desperate for any sign of Nate's condition.

The arena went into full lockdown. Doors sealed. Security is coordinating with arena staff to manage panic, and reroute the flow of people safely. And outside the stadium, the city is lit up with concern...social media going crazy, helicopters circling, hashtags trending. Boston is a fucking circus right now. We might as well be in lockdown mode here at Mass. General too. Police and bodyguards are everywhere thanks to fans and reporters gathering outside. People have already been taken away in handcuffs trying to get a glimpse of America's Heartthrob. Privacy is not something that ever comes easy for someone like Nate. But on concert night? When fans from all over New England gather at one arena to see him? It's makes everything that much more crazy around here.

I haven't talked to Elliott, Leslie or Richard but did meet with the financial staff here to see if I can get Nate into a private room for his recovery. They mentioned they would follow up with me on that and that someone would come down soon to discuss accommodations for Nate, considering his celebrity status.

Right now, Casey holds my hand as we wait and watch the chaos outside these walls unfold live on TV. Evan has left to make sure security is where it needs to be and it's Jonah's turn to be pacing back and forth, biting at his thumbnail nervously.

"I knew resuming tour was going to be too much. He doesn't listen." Jonah's voice is low, like he is speaking to himself, but then his eyes dart to mine. "You pushed him too far too fast with trying to cram it all in every day."

"Jone..." Casey shoots him a look, as if this is a topic they've already gone over before.In private. I sit here, fucking stunned.

"Are you blaming his heart condition on me??" I'm suddenly pissed off at the nurse, and I have never been upset with Jonah in my life. He's never given me reason to be upset with him.

"No, shit. No." Jonah presses his fingers into his temples and closes his eyes. This isn't like him. "Sorry. No. I didn't mean that, Trisha. I just... I wish he would have eased back into this slowly, that's all."

"You know I don't have much control over his day to day agenda while he's on tour, right? That's pretty much between Leslie and Richard. I've tried to cancel as much as I could the last few days, but there's only so much I can do without Nate dealing with backlash. You know that, right Jonah?" I raise my eyes to him, not technically mad, but I need him to know I've done all I can here to make Nate's life as stress-free it can possibly be for a well known superstar in the middle of a worldwide tour.

He nods, understanding. I get it. He's frustrated. We're ALL frustrated. But this is NOT my fault.

The door opens and Evan as well as a man in a suit and tie walk into the small room.

"Miss Banks?" The tall man is older, and looks like he could be the one who manages this entire hospital with the confidence he holds. He is not in a white doctor coat or in scrubs so I know he's not one of the surgeons.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Dean Roblen." He comes over to me so I stand and shake his hand, though I haven't a clue who he is. "Mr. Hollan is getting ready to be transported to a recovery room. The doctor will see you shortly with information about his surgery. I wanted to follow up with you regarding everything while he's staying here at the hospital."

Dean Roblen glances at the chaos on TV, letting out a sigh and giving a slight nod. "News travels fast. That makes more sense as to why Mila Giovanni's management called here."

"They did??" Both Casey and I say at the same time and Jonah stops pacing. Why in the world would Mila be calling Mass. Gen?

"Yes, and then I actually got to talk to Mila Giovanni herself." The guy, looking a bit starstruck, says.

"What did Mila say?" I ask, now on a first name basis with the Italian supermodel.

"She has graciously paid for specific arrangements regarding Mr. Hollan."

"Such as??" I push on curiously.

"For starters. Once Nate is out of the recovery room, instead of being transported to one of our regular rooms, Miss Giovanni is paying for him to stay in our presidential suite, the  'Phillips House Premium.' She has also requested he receives his own personal nursing staff to tend to him twenty four seven for as long as he requires medical treatment here."

Mila did that? For Nate? Now, I know that's a pretty penny. I also know Mila can afford it.

"Wow. That was extremely generous of her." Jonah takes the words right out of my mouth.

"Now, if you'll follow me, I can show you to the suite."

We are escorted up a few floors before taken down a long corridor.

When Dean Roblen said a suite, he wasn't kidding. We walk into the Phillips House Premium the first thing noticed is the breathtaking view of the Charles River and the Boston city skyline. This isn't a hospital room. This is a fucking high end luxury penthouse suite...even better than the one we were in while in L.A.

"Make yourselves at home. Mr. Hollan will be up soon." The man leaves, leaving us in the room completely in awe, and I can't help but wonder if every hospital offers such accommodations for the rich and famous.

******

It took longer than expected for staff to finally transport Nate up to the suite. Jonah and Casey have fallen asleep together on the enormous couch in the living room area and Evan has conked out  in the large loveseat across from me. When the transport nurses arrive with Nate, he is still pretty groggy and out of it, falling asleep every few seconds.

"It may take him a little while to snap out of it but everything went well and he should be feeling more like himself by morning." Dr. Simms says tiredly before heading out. It takes a few minutes for the nurses to quietly hook Nate's monitors up, check his vitals and log everything down in his chart before  dimming the lights and leaving the room.

I watch Nate sleep from the oversized cushioned chair I'm sitting in for quite a while. I decide to send a message to Elliott to inform him about everything but then shut my phone off so no one bothers me. It's late. I'm tired and I just wanted to get that part over with before Nate starts to wake up more. When he finally shows he is alert, he starts looking around the room, clearly confused as to where he is and what's going on.

"Only you," I whisper softly, capturing his attention and drawing his focus to me. I click on the dim lamp next to me so we have a little more light in the room.

"What the hell is this place?" His eyes take in the sight.

"You, my friend, have been moved to the 'Phillips House Premium.' Can you believe we are still in the same hospital right now? This room is amazing. Of course, I had to pull some strings to get this room because these accommodations aren't covered by insurance. But come to find out, it was Mila Giovanni who paid for this room."

"What?"

"Relax, Playboy. It's just an extra thousand dollars a night for the out-of-pocket fee. That's pocket change for Mila." I roll my eyes. "She wanted to help. She's stuck in New York but has been thinking about you. She arranged for your own team of nurses and staff, plus a personalized caterer for your meals. It's basically like the luxury suite in L.A., but with an upgraded view."

Nate attempts to sit up and look around, taking it all in.

"Wait...how long am I staying here??"

"They say 72 hours, so long as everything looks good," I answer.

"Then what?"

"Let's take it one hour at a time, ok, Nate?"

"Does Richard know?" Nate asks and I knew that would be one of the first things on his mind.

"Unsure. I turned off my phone. Elliott knows everything, though, and will hold a press conference."

He looks around the room again. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Ok. We'll go slow though." I quickly get up and grab the wheelchair for him, ready to take care of him. I'm used to this stuff from taking care of mom...and Nate during his GI surgery recovery. 

"I'm pretty sure I can walk, angel." He scoffs, swatting me away but eventually gives in and sits in the wheelchair.

"That's what I thought." I smirk and wheel him into the luxury bathroom. "Do you need help?"

When Nate sees all the handicap bars to hold on to he assures me he can do it himself so I close the door to give him privacy.

I lean against the closed door and finally exhale.

Things have to change. I'm not sure how, but they have to. Nate looks completely exhausted, and it's not just the surgery...it's the stress. The stress of everything: the tour, the management, living in the spotlight. It's taken a toll on him, and needing a pacemaker was a wake-up call for us all.

I need to find a way to  slow him down without pissing off Richard or breaking contracts. There's gotta be a way. Nate loves being up on that stage and I don't want to rip that from him...but all the other stuff can go. It needs to. Non negotiable now.

Because I am not willing to jeopardize my best friend's health for Richard Benson and his ridiculous greed.

******