*Trisha*

[Is Nate ok?]

Evan Scofield doesn't usually text me. Mainly because there is no reason to. We are always together. It's almost one in the morning when I finally notice Evan's text. I turn and look over at Nate....next to me....naked... in bed sleeping. Do I feel evil for letting him use me to distract him? No, not at all. It felt good. Real good. And we've used each other before. No strings attached. Is it something I want to advertise to Scofield? Not really.

[He didn't drink, but it was a close one. Thanks for your help tonight. I can't believe I fucked up like that]

I wonder if it is too late to respond to Evan's message that was sent a little while ago but do it anyway. If he's sleeping he'll answer in the morning. But he's not. Evan responds right away.

[Don't beat yourself up over it, Trisha. He didn't drink, and that's what matters.]

I sigh, glance over at Nate again. Sweet Nate- now peacefully sleeping. His face relaxed, lips slightly parted, hair tussled from sex, yet still has that boyish look to him when asleep. I'd do anything for him. Anything at all. And I sure as hell don't want to be the one to cause his relapse.

****

"Morning, Playboy," I smirk as Nate yawns and begins to wake up. I inch over to him and rest my head on his shoulder. 

"Morning...shit." Nate's voice is raspy, scratchy, practically gone. He has had issues with his vocal cords in the past, but this sounds bad. I sit up and give him a look.  

"That's it. No using your voice today until your interviews. I mean it. Your vocal cords are shot, Nate. You know what to do. Either text to talk or write it down on one of the little hotel notepads, ok?"

"Yes, Ma'am.." Nate answers, purposely breaking the rules to piss me off.

"I mean it!" I throw a pillow right at his face, making him laugh.

"Ok, ok," He whispers.

"C'mon. Shower time. Everyone will be here in less than an hour for breakfast. Then you have a meet and greet and a radio interview, so save your voice." I pull Nate out of bed with me, and we hit the shower together. In the back of my head, I'm cursing Richard for not understanding or meeting us halfway with the extra things scheduled during this tour. The man doesn't care about Nate's health or the fact that he's not bouncing back after each concert as quickly as he once did. I wonder what it's gonna take for him to allow Nate to slow down. 

Another heart attack?

Once everyone is here for our catered breakfast, I get right to it.

"He has to rest his voice," I explain, and make Nate a cup of hot tea with honey. "Text or write on this notepad only, got it Playboy?"

Nate nods. I then bite the bullet and tell them how I fucked up last night by not having all alcohol removed from the room.

"And you didn't drink anything? Not one sip?" Jonah asks with skepticism. Nate responds by writing on a hotel notepad. 

[I was close. Too close. Which means I'm not there yet. I'm no stronger than Julia right now.]

"You may never be strong enough when faced with a fridge full of booze. I know I'm not." Jonah admits, and Casey rubs his arm in a caring manner.

"I had to do the same thing in our room." Casey sighs. "It was... I just... I've never seen you like that." 

Oh no. Fuck! I wasn't even thinking about Jonah's room either. Heat rises to my face, and a knot forms in my stomach. 

"Shit. God, guys. I'm so sorry. I dropped the ball on this one." I push my plate away and drop my head into my hands, mortified.

"I already called the front desk last night and demanded for them to not restock Mr. Hollan's fridge. I will call down and demand the same for yours." Evan turns to Jonah then to me. "Give me the agenda for the next two hotels and I will make some calls ahead of time."

Evan offers to take some of the pressure off me, which I appreciate. I think Nate does as well with his silent nod. Evan stops eating and immediately walks over to the phone by the desk to complete the task.

"He's a good man." Jonah sighs. And he is. Paul was right in choosing Evan to be Nate's bodyguard.

"You and me, Nate. I will look it up, but either later today or tomorrow, we are sitting in one of the Avalon's AA zoom meetings. Got it?" Jonah raises a brow at Hollan.

"That will have to happen in between Richard's 'fluff, ' he had Leslie schedule." I remind Nate. "We need to get going soon, actually."

"There has got to be a way you can ditch this label you're under, Nate. That guy is a piece of work." Casey chimes in, like Jonah- she is worried about Nate's health. That is the whole reason why she and Jonah are here. To make sure he stays healthy. But the way Richard is working him doesn't help matters. Nate's exhaustion is written all over him...his eyes dull, his movements sluggish, his energy stretched too thin. Each show drains him further, each city blending into the next without a moment to catch his breath. He's running on fumes, and management doesn't seem to fucking care as long as the crowd is screaming and the money keeps flowing.

His body isn't built for this relentless cycle. Not anymore, it isn't. Not with that weak heart of his. He's skipping meals, pushing through headaches, ignoring the warning signs that keep stacking up. And if something doesn't change soon, he's going to crash.  He thinks I don't notice, but I do.  Saying something to him, bringing it up,.. It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes.

My main goal is to get Nate through this tour unscathed. And then? Then I dig into his contracts, sit down with a lawyer, and dissect every clause, every loophole. There has to be a way out of this management. A way to free him from their grip.

I just have to find it.

*****

The radio interview wraps up smoothly, and the meet and greet is everything I hoped for. These moments watching Nate signing autographs, shaking hands, hearing the stories of the people he's touched through his music... it's what makes Nate happy. You can see it in his eyes. 

Today, the crowd is a mix of ages when it comes to fans. A seven-year-old girl was beaming with excitement, her tiny hands clutching a poster with Nate's name scrawled across it. A seventy-year-old great-grandmother, eyes filled with wisdom, listens to his music every evening while she prepares dinner. It's humbling. It's exhilarating. It's just what Nate needed.

But once the excitement settles, reality creeps in. The "fluff" is handled, so Nate needs to protect his voice. No more speaking until tonight. Rest is mandatory. It's three-thirty in the afternoon, and the exhaustion is bone-deep. It's noticed. Nate looks drained with no energy. Like he needs a mid-afternoon nap before the show.

 Everyone is spread out in this warehouse-type room before the show. The caterers have put out an amazing spread of all different kinds of food. But Nate only picks at his. I pile my plate and sit next to Leslie on the couch so we can go over the agenda for the next few days. But mid-conversation, Jonah's words catch my attention.

"That's what concerns me, Nate. Your BP is all over the place, you are tired all the time, and now your appetite has diminished. You're burning calories up on that stage every night. And lately... You haven't been getting adequate sleep.

"We're here all week. Why don't we get some labs done just to make sure your bloodwork is ok?" Casey asks and Jonah nods. Obviously, they have already talked about this together. Bouncing ideas off each other. But Nate declines, shaking his head. I don't know what he is writing down to tell them but whatever it is, makes Jonah huff in frustration. I make my way over to see exactly what's going on over there.

"Then we can have someone come to you. I can call around today. If I can get someone to come here, take a few vials of blood, maybe bring an EKG monitor- just to be sure-" Jonah begins, but I cut him off.

"What are we talking about over here?" I cock my head to the side at Nate who begins to eat. I feel Leslie's presence right behind me now as Jonah and Casey fill us in on Nate's rising blood pressure. Nate keeps his head down. He knows this is an issue, but doesn't want to deal with it.

"Shit. Finish eating. You have a soundcheck in ten minutes." Leslie announces when her phone alarm goes off right in the middle of our discussion.

"Right now? I- I thought I was saving my voice until the concert? I was hoping to squeeze in a quick nap beforehand." He says, almost childlike, filled with disappointment. I frown hearing how tired he is and can tell Leslie feels the weight of everyone's eyes on her now. It's her call at this moment. Not Richard's, not the bands, not mine. 

"I mean..." Leslie opens up her binder, looks down, but closes it before reading the agenda. "Ok. Ok. I'll have the band make sure all your guitars are tuned. Robbie can test the mics and your In-Ears to make sure everything is working properly. Just make sure you know the order of the songs. And for the love of God, don't tell Richard you need to rest. He won't hear it."

"I know he won't," Nate whispers, then scribbles on the paper to let me know he is going down to the dressing room. He also asks me to bring down a cup of decaf tea with honey.

"Yes, of course. Nate," I study his face. "Are you sure you're ok? You're looking kinda pasty, Playboy." 

"I'm fine," Nate says, standing and gathering up his dinner remnants, his movements brisk, almost too controlled. Like he's trying to fake feeling fine when he is obviously exhausted. And then as he walks towards the trash, I notice something. Like he is off-balance. Unsteady. Without warning, the paper plate slips from his grasp, crashing onto the floor as salad scatters in every direction. His breath hitches, his body sways, and his hand shoots out, grasping at the wall for support.

My heart lurches. This is not fucking fine! I rush to him, my pulse hammering in my ears. "Nate?" I say, voice tight with worry, already reaching for him before he can brush this off. He's pale...too pale. And the way he's gripping the wall is like it's the only thing keeping him upright.

"Nate?" I stammer.

"Nate....you need to get checked out." Jonah jumps up and rushes over.

"I need to get up on that stage in a little while. All I need is a nap. That's it." Nate takes a deep breath. "Just... I need a nap before the show, ok? After the show, you can check me again, and tomorrow we can have someone come here, but I can't cancel tonight."

"I'll walk him to his dressing room." Evan takes over and escorts Nate out of the room.

"This is NOT ok. Something needs to be done." Jonah begins pacing back and forth once Nate is out of earshot.

"He needs to rest more." Casey throws her plate out and crosses her arms over her chest. "He's gonna burn out fast."

"Ok." I close my eyes, knowing this is on me to fix somehow. I need to figure shit out. "Jonah, make the appointment for a doctor to come to the hotel. As soon as possible. Tomorrow, if he can." I find myself being the one to pace now as the wheels start turning in my head.

"Case, can you grab my laptop?" Jonah is right on the task. Casey nods and grabs what he needs, then starts making Nate's tea for me to bring down to him.

"I'm gonna start canceling events for tomorrow. He needs a day with no commitments." I feel Leslie's eyes staring at me from the table where she sits, binder open, making sure all our ducks are in a row. And here I am- fucking up all her hard work.

"Tomorrow, Mr. Hollan has the big Entertainment Tonight interview as well as the signing event right after..." Leslie reads from her binder to remind me.

"Shit, that's right." I forgot about the E.T. interview, only thinking we had a signing event tomorrow. I drop my head down and pinch the tension quickly forming between my eyes. "He needs a break, Leslie. You see how exhausted he is."

"I do see. But don't forget, even though I'm the tour manager, it's Mr. Benson who calls all the shots. He is technically my boss, too." Leslie crosses one perfect leg over the other and shakes her head at me. She's in the same boat we are in. 

The friggen sinking Titanic.

******

One thing about Nate Hollan. He is fucking good at faking shit. When I say he gave it all up on that stage tonight, I mean it. You would never know he has a heart problem, nor would you catch on to how tired his body really is. Not tonight. Tonight, he put on a performance of a lifetime. Tomorrow's reviews are going to be amazing, and I know Nate will be relieved.

The second his sweaty self exits the stage I throw my arms around him and congratulate him. Leslie does the same time with a proud look to her face.

"Thanks. I feel good. That was fun." He says dryly, and I notice it right away. I furrow my brows and study him as he walks to the buffet and scoops some pasta salad onto a plate.

"Wow, eating BEFORE your shower? That's new." I point out and stand in the corner with Nate, watching him eat.

"Yeah, guess I burned a lot of calories." He takes another bite of food and quickly makes his way towards the garbage can. He barely ate anything.

"- uh-" Nate stutters, and my eyes widen when I see him sway. Oh my God, he's gonna pass out!

"Nate?! Oh my God." I sprint to him, urgency overriding everything else, oblivious to the eyes that now turn in our direction. I've drawn attention to him now. Nate sways again, his body folding against the wall like it's the only thing keeping him upright. 

"Nate!" My voice is sharp, cutting through the thick air between us. I reach for him, gripping his arm, trying to ground him as he leans on the wall for support. Evan is already by my side and takes control.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, guys."  Nate's once vacant eyes come back to life, and he snaps out of it after clearly blacking out. Everyone surrounds him now, including the catering team.

"That's it. Something is clearly wrong." Jonah throws Nate's arm over his shoulder and guides him to the couch to sit.

"I'm fine. Probably a little dehydrated.... and exhausted from the show." He mutters and pulls at the collar of his now-damp shirt. "And I'm a little hot. God, it's fucking hot in here."

"Sir, I will turn off the ovens in back and turn on the AC." One of the caterers say and they head back into the kitchen area to cool things down.

"It's not hot in here, Nate. At all..." My eyes are frantically bouncing from Nate's to Jonah's while Casey grabs the medical bag. They begin evaluating him together to see what is causing this. Blood pressure cuff on, thermometer in, pulse ox monitor flashing numbers, and Jonah counting the beats per minute.

Jonah pulls out his phone, but Nate grabs it right out of his hands.

"Jonah, no."

"Nate..."

"I'm 31 years old and I'm saying no. If you call a fucking rescue or anything like that I will flat out refuse it. I just got done from a fucking three hour concert. I'm tired, that's all."

"Pulse ox is between 94 and 95." Casey gives Jonah a look.

"Blood pressure is still elevated." Jonah looks back at her, and she writes down the numbers.

"Mr. Hollan-" Evan begins, but Nate glares at him, stopping him from saying whatever the hell he was going to say. I squint at the bodyguard, wondering if he knows more than I do about Nate's health right now. 

"I just need a cool shower, food, and sleep. God, I've already wasted so much time on this tour."  Nate lets out a sigh.

"Your heart doesn't care about your tour, Nate." Jonah retorts.

"Jonah. I'm asking for one night. One night, and then we can figure it all out. Can someone just help me to my dressing room so I can shower?"

Evan's shoulders drop with his sigh but he is also the first one to nod and help Nate. Stubborn fucking Nate. "See? I'm fine."

Jonah inhales sharply. "I don't agree with this, Nate. You hired me to"

"I know what I fucking hired you for!" He scolds, and Evan helps him out of the rec room.

"Yeah, no. This is not happening." I blurt out and follow Evan and Nate back to his dressing room, trying to hold in my anger. He's downplaying shit and things are fucking getting worse.

"I'll help him. You guard the door." I demand, and Evan gets the hint. After scoping out the dressing room, he steps out into the hall and crosses his arms, fully on the job.

"A quick shower and then we are going right back to the hotel so you can rest." I begin to get undressed. There is no way Nate is taking a shower alone. If he passes out, a hard lump forms in my throat. "No funny business. I don't need to find you passed out on the shower floor."

"No funny business....That's not what you said this morning." He smirks, and I flip him off. Un-fucking-believable. He is still making light of the situation.

Once the water is warm enough, I guide Nate into the shower with me. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes.

"Sweetie, you're beyond worn-out. This isn't healthy." I begin to wash his body up, and then his hair, staying close to him in case he feels lightheaded again.

"I'm just really tired." Keeping his eyes closed, he lets me continue showering him.

"Have you been having any chest pains today?"

"No." He lies.

"Bullshit. I don't believe you." I lather up all of him, and he doesn't even flinch. Like he is half asleep while standing up. Certainly not aroused, which is rare for him.

"I told you. I'm fine. I'm just tired, princess. Tonight was....it was a lot."

"I'm worried about you. You're not staying in your room alone tonight. Not a chance."

"You're overreacting." He leans on the wall more so I try to hurry so he can rest.

"I have every right to overreact when you friggen lie to me and tell me you're fine when you're not. And let me guess, Scofield knows but you told him not to say anything, didn't you??"

"You know me too well. C'mon. I'm done. I need sleep." Nate rolls himself away from the wall, and I help him out of the shower.

I help him dry off, get dressed and sit him down on the couch where there is a cup of tea already waiting for him.

"Once the crowd clears a little, we'll head back to the hotel, ok?" I run my hands through the tired man's damp hair, and he breathes deeply and nods. I'm gonna figure this shit out. Nate needs a day off. Even if I have to fucking cancel things behind Richard's back, I'll do it. I'll do anything. 

I realize now the dynamics of James and Julia's relationship. Best friends. Sometimes more. But no matter what, she will do anything to take care of him. That's exactly how I feel right now. I'm gonna cancel events and deal with the repercussions as they come.

Right now, Nate's health is far more important.

******