The Pop Star and the Dreamer

"I don't want your money, Kiara. I can't stop you using my songs, but I do want recognition for writing them."

"What? Ralph said you and him settled. You accepted two hundred thousand dollars as payment for them."

"He's talking shit. He offered me, seventy-five, and I turned him down. He could have offered the two hundred, and I still would have turned him down. They are mine. If I can't stop you recording them, then I at least want recognition as the writer."

She started crying, her sobs loud and tremulous. "Nash, I didn't want any of this. I just wanted to record your songs."

"So tell him. You're the boss, Kiara. He can't do it without you."

"It's not that simple. I'm contracted. I have obligations."

"We all do. It's part of being a human being, in the world today."

"Nash, come and see me. We need to talk."

"Nope, heard enough talking, but hear this, Kiara. If he does try to release those songs as yours, I will make a public spectacle of him. I have spoken to a lawyer, and he has been sent a letter outlining my position and containing proof of copyright. If he ignores that, then it's on his head."

"He won't do that, Nash."

"I guess we'll see. I tried, Kiara. I really did. I do love you, and I want the best for you."

"I love you as well, Nash. God, just come home, babe. I need you. I can't do this without you."

"Yes you can, all you have to do is say no. Just like last time. If you do that, I can help. I can't do anything while you are surrounded by those assholes."

"Nash, please, help me, I'm begging you. If you were here, it would be different. Ralph would be different."

I wanted to help, but listening to how slurred her words were, how difficult it was to discern her words, she was wasted, and I didn't know what she would be like if I could get her straight. Was this just the drugs?

"What say we go away for a few days, go somewhere quiet, peaceful. Just the two of us."

"I can't, I have to fly to New York tomorrow."

"Tell them you're sick."

"I can't just walk away again. You can get away with that once, but not continually."

"Then there's nothing I can do."

Winding up my life was easier than I expected: the apartment, the car. I packed up my musical equipment and shipped it out to New Zealand. The flight was hard work. No business class this time. It was cattle for me, no leg room and terrible food.

Thankfully, a few bourbons and I was asleep.

Adam met me at the airport with a big smile and a hug. "Mate, it's good to see you. Sorry about the way things turned out."

"Hey, that's life, we do what we can."

"Yeah, but it's pretty shitty. Still, you're home now. We'll get you right."

The hotel room was small, but it was comfortable. My first mission was a week long hospitality course. That was a hell of a laugh. The course was full of tourists wanting to work in New Zealand. There were a couple of Cockney girls who turned the course into a riot. We did get out on the town at night, but once they had a few drinks, they were impossible to understand. God, it was party central with those girls; they just loved it. They were just a few months into their backpacking holiday around New Zealand.

I was glad when it was over, because I couldn't keep up. When I told Adam, he laughed his head off. "Bloody hell, you Yanks are bloody slow. Harden up old man."

"Old, I'm only twenty six."

"Yeah, well start acting like it. A couple of gorgeous girls throwing themselves at you and you play hard to get."

I laughed at his humor. "Yeah, okay, pal. I'll do better next time."

Working at the pub was fun. There were all sorts of patrons. Lots of laughs, the tean all worked well together, helped each other out. We had our little social nights after the bar closed. Adam convinced me to get the guitar out, and we had sing-songs.

He also encouraged me to get back into the jam nights. That was fun, and before long, I had met a group of local musos who got together to jam, drink and have fun. Like Adam, they encouraged me to perform my songs and actively worked with me to write more. I guess I was feeling the loss of Kiara, because it opened up a whole vein of new songs. I channeled all my emotions into the songs.

Life was pretty good; working behind the bar, I did get to meet lots of very nice young women. I admit that in the words of Paul Simon, I did seek some solace there. It was casual; no strings attached. No lies told, they were passing through and I was the American guy, so I was a novelty.

It was just sex, nothing more.

The six months passed quickly, and I had to apply for a visa extension. Thankfully, Adam and the pub owner backed me up, and I was granted a twelve-month stay.

We were working a Friday night, the crowd was thin, some backpackers playing pool, a couple playing darts. Some girls dancing to the jukebox. The bar was surrounded with big screen TV's. I wasn't paying much attention, my eyes were glued to the dark-haired French girl gyrating wildly on the dance floor. The thin nylon dress, if you can call it that, billowed up around her waist as she spun and twirled.

It was Adam nudging me in the ribs, that drew me away. "Hey, look at that." His hand was pointing straight at one of the big screens. On it was a late night American talk show, and right there being interviewed, was Kiara.

"Turn it up, will you?" I asked.

He found the remote and maxed out the volume, so we could hear above the jukebox. The host was waving a CD around, and talking about her new album.

"Is it true you wrote all the songs?"

She smiled sexily. "Yes, all mine."

"I have to say, since I got it, I have played it repeatedly. It's very different from your earlier albums."

"Yes, I guess. I've grown up a little. I learned a lot about myself over the last year."

I watched as she squirmed around on the settee beside the host. She looked sexy as fuck, but she was wired to the max, her eyes bulged, she licked her lips continuously, like a thirsty lizard.

They talked about the songs and the recording process. "Are you going to tour on the back of the album?"

She nodded, her eyes darting around the room, her ligs crossing and uncrossing, her fingers knotted together in a tight fist. Wired or not, she was feeling the tension.

"Lying bitch," I snarled loudly. "Lying fucking bitch."

"That sucks, man. What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know."

"Have you still got the original recordings?"

"Yeah."

"Well, why not blow the whole thing out of the water? Shows like that, they love a good scandal. Send them copies of the originals. Expose them, tell the world how they stole your songs."

"Yeah, go on," Sarah, the other barmaid said. We had become good friends, and she knew the story.

Adam checked the time. "It's a bit early now, but get all your shit together. Do your research, and be ready to go."

He was right. I was angry. At home, I scrolled through the internet getting phone numbers and email dresses for the show, made copies of the recordings, dug out the lawyer's letter that was sent to Ralph and his signature accepting it, the copyright documentation. By the time two PM rolled around, I was ready.

I rung the shows contact number. Initially, I got booted from one person to the next. Eventually, though, I got to one of the senior producers, and when I told them my story, he was shocked. "You can prove all this?"

"Yes, I have all the documents sitting right here. I have even had them notarized."

"Jesus, this is huge. So, you were Kiara's PA, and you're the one she was hiding out in New Zealand with?"

"That's right."

"Look, would you be prepared to record an interview we could screen tonight?"

"Yeah, sure can."

As we talked, he started to put together a plot for the show that night. I sent him everything I had.

"Nash, are we the only ones you've talked to?"

"So far, yeah."

"How much would it cost for you to keep this an exclusive story. By that, I mean. You only talk to us?"

"I don't want money."

"What about twenty grand? I can have it wired to you today. It probably won't show up in your account till tomorrow."

"I don't want payment. I just want to expose them."

"Yes, I get that. Would you be prepared to keep it exclusive?"

"For the time being, yeah."

That afternoon, I was interviewed via Skype. I had to explain in detail the whole story. They sent me the edited version, which I had to sign off on.

It was with great eagerness that Adam and I sat down to watch the show from the comfort of the back bar.

The host introduced the show, and running behind him was this big sign, saying. "Breaking news."

He started with, "All right, lady's and gentlemen. Tonight we start with a scandalous accusation, that Kiara, who was on the show last night, is in fact, not the writer or owner of the songs contained on her new album."

In the background, there was a big picture of me.

"The copyrighted owner of the songs is in fact, her old PA, Nash Collins. We have researched all the evidence, and have ascertained what he is claiming can be verified. Of course, at this stage they are only accusations, but we will follow the story closely.

The image on the screen behind him rolled to the start of the interview we recorded that afternoon.

"Folks, we are going to play an interview, we filmed today, with Mr, Collins."

The interview rolled, and they followed that by playing the earlier versions I had recorded by myself, and then excerpts from the ones Kiara and I recorded.

They switched to an industry lawyer for his comments, and explanations of what options were open to me, and also, AGM.

The story blew up all over the world. You can't have accusations like that flying around without it being front page news around the developed world.

In New Zealand, it went off the charts, and there were scenes from the car chases when, Kiara and I were staying here.

Of course, nobody knew I was back in New Zealand. It didn't take long, though. Within two days, the pub was overflowing with reporters and cameramen, all wanting a slice of the pie.

Initially, AGM denied all the allegations, but with in depth reporters following it up, there was no way they could continue to deny. Then they tried to claim that I had accepted money for the songs, and that I had actually sold them the rights.

Again, I had to front the cameras, and also bare my bank account to show that no such money was ever transferred.

It was getting messy. That's when Ralph called me. "You fucking scum bag. You dirty rotten mother fucker. I told you, I fucking warned you. You're going down, you little cock sucker."

"Bring it on, ass wipe. You might like to know, I've had some very generous offers from industry lawyers who are going to manage my lawsuit. Yep, you heard me. I'm taking you down."

"Bring it, cock sucker."

I had indeed been approached by a lawyer. His specialist field was copyright. Landon Fleming was a leading respected entertainment lawyer, and as I found out, he hated Ralph with a vengeance. The terms he offered me were very friendly. All he wanted was to discredit Ralph.

It certainly brought in a huge crowd for the jam night. I was swamped with requests for the songs, and they were well received.

Over the next couple of weeks, I enjoyed my promotion to minor celebrity. I was even hit on by a couple of women who were regulars at the pub. They were very attractive, and I had tried to chat them ip on several occasions, but was put back in my box. They made it very clear, I was not in their league.

Now, however, I was the prey, and they the hunters. If their shallowness hadn't annoyed me so much, I might have indulged their desires. I mean, we did have a shared interest. However, their attitude did irritate me.

There were other things happening. I was contracted by a lawyer representing several different clients, and the reason surprised me. I knew it shouldn't, but it did.

"Mr, Collins, my name is Dan Purdem. I would like to talk to you about Ralph Merchotto."

"Ralph, yeah, okay. I'm interested. What's happening?"

"I'll get straight to the point. You have made some fairly scathing accusations regarding his dealings with you."

"Yeah, carry on."

"I think you have a case, and I want to represent you."

"I already have a legal representative."

"Yes, I have spoken with him, and we would be prepared to bring him on board, as well. I am offering to represent you Pro Bono. In short, I want Merchotto's ass. I want him to suffer, he needs to be in prison."

"I don't disagree, but why?"

"It's a long story, but let me say, I have my reasons. I also represent several other performers who have been screwed over. The charges range from sexual harassment, rape, extortion, fraud and blackmail. He is a disgusting excuse for a human being."

"Okay, let's say I'm interested, what would you need from me?"

"I have most of what's required already. I got that information from your existing legal team. It is mostly public knowledge now, anyway."

"Would I have to return Stateside for this?"

"Eventually. We can get through the early stages without you, but be aware that they can probably subpoena you at any time."

"Yeah, let me think about it for a few days. It would be nice to make him pay for what he has done to Kiara."

"I understand that better than you might ever understand."

I was almost at the point of giving up on it. I had already achieved what I wanted. I had publicly shamed him. I would probably have left it that, except the bastard called me again.

"Nash, have you reconsidered my offer?"

"I have considered it, but my answer remains the same."

"Think about what you're doing to Kiara. Don't you care about her?"

"I love Kiara." The words were out before I could stop them.

"Love, oh for the love of god. Jesus, she's not even a good fuck."

I was stunned, all I could feel was my heart thumping loudly.

He laughed. "Don't get all prissy with me. Does that surprise you? Yeah, I fucked her when she was still an unknown. It's one of the perks. Let me tell you, son, she might be the worst fuck I've ever had."

"I can't believe what a heartless fuck you really are. I'm taking you down, asshole."

"Oh fuck off, just because I put the dick to your little sweetheart. Fuck off, just because you didn't have the balls to bang her."

"Fuck you." Were my last words to him.

Angry... I was furious. If he had been within striking distance, I would have ripped his heart out. What a lousy excuse for a man. A dirty filthy bottom dwelling piece if shit. Snakes would look down on him.

I paced, swore, yelled and punched a hole in the wall. He had to be taken down. Humanity demanded it.

Picking up my phone, I hit dial and called Dan Purdem. "Okay, I'm in. I don't care what it costs, or what it takes. He has to pay."

"Thank you," Purdem said wearily. It was only then I realized what the time was.

"Oh shit, sorry man."

"Forget it. I'm just glad to have you on board."

"The other claimants you mentioned. You said they were laying charges of sexual misconduct and rape. Is that true?"

"Yes, and every day the list gets bigger. He has been taking advantage of young girls for far too long."

The anger in his voice rang through, he felt it and I wondered why. "Dan, this is obviously something that has affected you badly. Why do you care?"

"My daughter. A young woman who wanted to be a singer. He got his claws into her, led her on, promised her the world, but in the end, gave her nothing. When he became bored with her, he cast her aside. She was so heartbroken she took her own life."

"Oh, Jesus. I'm sorry, Dan."

"Thanks," he hissed. "I want him, just as bad as you do. Maybe more."

"Well, I want it bad, so with both of us on it. He is in big trouble."

"Nash, we aren't the only ones. Some of the people I'm representing are broken. He ripped out their essence. He feeds on the insecurities of young vulnerable women. Like I say, promises them whatever they want. The bastard has no scruples."

That's how I came to be part of something much bigger than a lawsuit chasing a copyright infringement.

After talking to Dan, I wondered if Merchatto had done something similar to Kiara? It would explain some things that had always struck me as weird about their relationship.

The question was, how did I find out? Did I just ask her? How the hell do you ask somebody if they were sexually abused?

It turned out I didn't have long to wait to find out. The case went public. Dan played it really well, laying all the charges under the umbrella of a class action. He made sure there were media present, and it became public knowledge immediately.

Within a day of it going live, Kiara was on the phone. "You cruel malicious bastard. What are you trying to do?" No greeting, no hello, she just screamed at me. I got the impression she had been building up to it, and just vented.

"Kiara, this has nothing to do with you. This is about Merchatto. I don't bear you any grudges."

"How can you say that. I'm named in that damn lawsuit."

"I never wanted that, Kiara. You forced my hand by going public with the claims the songs were yours. That was a lie, and you know it."

"Nash, I never wanted to do that, but Ralph said you sold him the rights."

"He's a liar, and I think if you're honest, in your heart you know that."

"Oh god, this is so fucked up, Nash."

"I know, I'm sorry you were included in the lawsuit. All you have to do is be honest. Speak with Dan Purdem, he will listen. Explain that Merchatto lied to you."

"I can't do that to him."

"Kiara, he lied to you. He has been lying to you for years."

She had been crying, her sniffles though, were now a torrent, and her incoherent nonsensical words all ran together as she broke into hysterics.

"I can't do that, Nash."

"You realize that most of the claims against him re all about sexual harassment and improper conduct?"

"God, I don't understand all these women. They have just decided to jump on the bandwagon. It's all lies, Nash."

"I don't believe that, Kiara. Ralph, was always an unscrupulous fucker."

In a moment of jealous rage, I snarled. "How long were you lovers?"

"What... who told you that?"

"He did."

She started sobbing hysterically. Any semblance of comprehension vanished as she cried. "He promised never to say anything."

"Did he force you?"

No answer, just hysterics.

"Kiara, this is important. Did he coerce, or blackmail you?"

"He was helping me. God, don't you see. He made me, he got me a recording contract. I would be nothing without him."

"He blackmailed you?"

"No, I just felt obligated. He was helping me achieve my dream."

"Kiara, was it your idea, or his?"

"Nash, I don't want to talk about this."

"You have to. If he forced or coerced you, then you have a case against him."

"If I say anything, my career will be over. He will drop me, I will become a laughing stock, a joke."

"No they won't. Your career is way past anything he can do for you. Kiara, people love you. They would do anything to help you. Once he is convicted, everything changes."

She was in no position to answer me, She could hardly speak. "Kiara, call Dan, I'll text you his number."

The line went dead, I tried and tried to call her back, but it just kept going to message bank.

I was beginning to get anxious. It was over two hours later when I got a reply. She was so far out of it, I could barely understand. "Goodbye, Nash. I do love you." Then she was gone again, and she wouldn't answer.

Panicked, and not knowing what else to do. I called LAPD. "I think my friend is committing suicide."

The woman said slowly. "All right, sir. Calm down. Take a deep breath and explain yourself."

"I have been on the phone with her. She was out of it, so spaced out. She said goodbye. I think she's overdosed."