The Pop Star and the Dreamer

"All right, we can send a car, what is her name and address?"

When I gave her the details, I heard her gasp. "Are you talking about Kiara?"

"Yes, but you have to hurry. I think she's already passed out."

She took my details, and said, "We will send a car."

I don't know what I was expecting to happen, but two hours went by, and I'd heard nothing. My only option was to call again. This time, I met a stone wall. Each time I called, I was given the same response: "Are you family?"

They weren't releasing anything.

I tried the hospitals, and again, nothing. I was frantic. My only other option was Dan.

It took him ages to answer. "Dan, it's me, Nash. I spoke to Kiara today. I think she's tried to kill herself. I called the cops and they promised to send a squad car, but since then they've gone quiet. I can't find out a damn thing."

"Damn, that sounds bad. I'll call around, see what I can find out."

I waited, the hours on the clock ticking by slowly. My eyes got heavier and heavier. God knows what the time was when I went to sleep.

It was hours later when far off in the distance, I heard a ringing sound.

"Hello."

"Nash, it's Dan. I've found her. She's been admitted to hospital. I haven't been able to find out much, other than she was unconscious when she was admitted. I managed to find a nurse who said they pumped her stomach. That's it, I'm afraid."

"Thanks, man. Appreciate it."

"Without knowing what really happened. I think you might have saved her life."

"That's if she's okay," I mumbled nervously.

"I'm sure it will be fine. Her biggest problem is going to be what happens afterwards. I'm not sure the police will release her unless she has people to look after her. They may recommend rehab."

My life was thrown into turmoil. I was swamped by media. Not physically, although I did get a few visits. No, it was more an inundation of messages, phone calls, emails. All requesting my side of the story. What happened, all looking for the inside exclusive.

I could have made a small fortune, because almost all offered a financial incentive.

I also talked to Dan, and his advice was simple. "There's no such thing as bad publicity, so take the ones you want. Make sure you tell the truth, and never deviate.

I started taking a few of the interview requests. My bank balance swelled, which was one of the positives.

Ralph Merchatto... his face was everywhere, and he was in deep hiding. The charges had to go through the usual process before the legal system acknowledged them. There was enough evidence for the charges to be accepted, and a trial date set.

His legal team fought it the whole way. He denied all charges.

There was also lots of footage of Kiara being released from hospital. I felt sorry for her. Surrounded by aides who did their best to cover her face, film crews everywhere, trying to get shots of her. Talk about a media circus...

When my phone buzzed, and I checked the ID, my heart swelled. "Hey, Kiara. How are you feeling?"

"Terrible, but I did want to say thank you, I would have died if you hadn't rung the police."

"No need for thanks. You scared the crap out of me, though. I was petrified. Sorry for calling the cops. I didn't know what else to do."

"Nash, it's okay. I'm glad you did. I needed to break this cycle."

"What happens now?"

"The only way they would release me is if I accepted a six week course in a rehab facility."

"Oh shit, sorry..."

"No, don't be. Honestly, it's a good thing. I need it."

"Is somebody with you now?"

"Yeah, my PA, Dalia."

"Is she strong enough?"

"No, she's a pushover. That's why Ralph hired her."

"Are you going to be okay? Which rehab center?"

"Oh, my lawyer argued to get me into a private one. It's sort of specializes in celebrities. More private."

"More drugs, as well, I guess?"

"Probably, but I made myself a promise in the hospital. I want to be clean. I hate my life at the moment. I miss out on so much."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. God, it gives me hope."

"Nash, I stopped the album release. I made a call to your friend Dan. I told him everything. That you wrote the songs, they were yours."

"Wow... Thank you, Kiara. That means a lot to me."

"I'm sorry, Nash. I never wanted it to turn out like this. All I wanted was to show the world your talent."

"It doesn't matter. I know you didn't do it maliciously. I never thought that."

"Liar," she whispered, but with a hint of our old playfulness."

"Okay, you got me. I was angry at the start, but I just knew you wouldn't do that."

"The album's been pulled, and any money made from the release has been locked up."

As the conversation stumbled along, I asked, "Are you going to be all right in rehab? Are you allowed visitors?"

"Yes, visitors are allowed, but I want to do this on my own. Last time I had you, and I don't think I would have stayed the distance. This time, I want it to be all me."

"What about phone calls?"

She giggled. "We have to give up our phones, but that's more so we don't get hassled by media and what not."

"If you can send me a phone number. I'll call."

"That would be nice."

Life... It's never easy, decisions are always difficult. My life went on. The pub was fun, I got plenty of requests from other establishments around town, and further afield for performances. Some, I took, if I could get away.

I was establishing a reputation, and my songs were popular. Who knew Kiwi's would like Americana?

I received the most amazing invitation. It was to play at the rhythm and vines festival. In New Zealand, it's one of the biggest festivals. Always had amazing artists. The stage is set among a huge winery in a natural amphitheater.

There was no hesitation. I accepted without even trying to negotiate a higher remuneration package.

Kiara and I talked every day, sometimes only for minutes, others for hours. I needed that Rhythm and Vines pay package just to pay my phone bill.

She was doing all right. Lonely, and sometimes stressed and crying as the tremors and hunger hit.

As it is when kicking any addiction, she started to get better, the conversations brighter, her tone happier. She could string together sentences, words made sense.

The conversations changed a little; she seemed eager to talk about the future, what she wanted to do. The good news was, after she went public about what happened with my songs. Merchatto dropped her. She was allowed to buy her way out of the label.

She was able to laugh a little. "I'm back at square one," she said with a sorrowful sigh.

"No, you're way ahead of that. I bet there are going to be literally hundreds of labels chasing your signature."

"Probably." She sighed. "But I am hopeless at all that shit. I'll just get ripped off by somebody else."

"Then hire an agent."

She laughed. God, I can't remember ever hearing her laugh like that; it was beautiful, and yet somehow scary.

"An agent, can you hear yourself. Christ, I trust them less than the labels."

I chuckled at my words. "Yep, good point. There must be somebody you trust?"

"Yes, but unfortunately, he lives in New Zealand."

That stunned me into silence. "Kiara..."

"No, it's all right. I understand. You have your own life to live."

"You didn't give me a chance. I would love to help. I'm not an expert, though."

"I don't care about that. I just need somebody I can trust. Somebody who's not in it for themselves. Nash, you are the only person I trust. I never realized how much that meant to me."

"Then I will be there. Tell me when you are going to be released, and I'll be there."

"I am getting out in two weeks."

"Then I'll be there."

"I can send you tickets," she whimpered, the joy flowed over her words like melting chocolate.

"I can get them."

That's when the coin dropped, and I muttered. "Oh shit."

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"I'm supposed to be playing at Rhythm and Vines the weekend after that."

"What the hell is that?" she asked.

"It's probably New Zealand's biggest music festival. I am on the bill. I can cancel though. No problemo." I tried to keep the sadness out of my voice.

She picked up on it immediately. "Don't you dare cancel. I can get home. I couldn't live with myself if you missed that opportunity."

"To hell with that. I want to be there for you."

"Then come after the festival. I can get everything ready. I have Dalia."

"From what you said, that girl my be one of your problems."

"Yes, probably. She is ditzy and blonde, and always carrying. Maybe, I need a new PA."

Over the next few days, we talked some more. Dalia, was released from her job. When I talked to Dan about it, he suggested he knew somebody who could help. He was trustworthy, and a recovered addict.

When I mentioned it to Kiara, she wasn't quite so keen, but after I talked to Dylan, the guy, Dan suggested, any doubts I had vaporized. He was perfect. Kiara reluctantly agreed.

I admit, I got a little excited about playing the festival. A little full of myself. It was Adam who gave me a sharp punch on the shoulder one night in the pub. "Oh, for fucks sake. Get over yourself, mate. We're sick of hearing about it."

"What's the problem?" I groaned, giving my shoulder a painful rub.

"Look, Nash, we all love ya, mate, but fuck me. We are sick of hearing about the festival. You're a big deal now, we get it."

He was joking. I knew it, but his words stung. He saw my disillusionment.

"Sorry, mate, but you've been carrying on like a pork chop."

Pulling the tickets out of my pocket, I waved them under his nose. "Guess you wouldn't be interested in these, then?"

He snatched them from my hand, airfares, and VIP tickets to the festival. His eyes got a little watery as he grabbed me into a big hug. "Bugger, I'm sorry, dude."

"It's okay. As if I would go without my best mate."

The day Kiara was released was a big day. She seemed happy, and even after meeting Dylan, her mood stayed upbeat.

When she got home, she called me again. "Nash, you fucked up."

"Why, what have I done wrong now?"

"Dylan, he's useless. His sandwiches suck. We had to send out."

I laughed. "What's he like?"

"Nice, a little intense. You know he went over the whole house. Searched every drawer, every cupboard. He must have thrown out a ton of my meds."

"Good. What's he really like, can you talk to him?"

"He's amazing actually. He's been through this, he understands the body, the cravings, withdrawal sucks."

"I know, but it must be easing now?"

She started to sniffle. "Yes, but I need a hug. I need you."

"I'll be there. I promise. I am booked to fly out the day after the festival."

"That is nice. I'm looking forward to a hug."

"Me too. I miss you like crazy. Every day has been hell. I wanted to be there for you."

"You were. The phone calls, they're what saved me. The rehab center is a joke. Believe me, there's more drugs on the inside than the out."

"I believe it."

"If it hadn't been for your calls, I might no have made it. I just didn't want to let you down. I knew how disappointed you would be. It gave me strength."

"You wouldn't have let me down. I know how hard it was last time."

Over the next few days, we talked some more. She rang me to listen to a new song she wrote, her phone on a stand, as she tinkled the ivories of the baby grand. Her voice soft, uneven, tremulous. The song was good, her performance not so good.

She had lost her inner essence. The strength wasn't there. Sure, her voice had that crystal clear quality, it would always have that. What it lacked was passion, desire, the deep gravelly fire, when she reached for the unattainable.

I got a little consumed as the festival got closer. I rehearsed, over and over. I buried myself in set lists and songs, trying to decide which to keep and which to let go. Forty minutes sounds like a lot, but it's only seven songs, especially seeing as how several of mine were longer than the norm.

Kiara's phone calls eased off, and I didn't even notice.

I wasn't helped by Adam, who was pretty excited as well. He figured seeing as how he was going as one of the performer's assistants that he would get to meet some of the stars.

I knew that feeling. I had the same emotions when I started working for Kiara. Once you meet your first idol and you realize some of them are just assholes, it does take away some of the gloss.

That does change when you meet one who totally lives up to your expectations. Then it truly is magical.

We flew out Thursday afternoon, arriving in Gisborne later that evening. The accommodation was good, not five stars as I was used to traveling with Kiara, but it was nice. Adam dragged me off to a pub and proceeded to try and drink it dry.

Friday, we woke with throbbing heads, hangovers of monumental proportions. We wandered down into the main street for breakfast. Some fresh air did help. A chemist shop and some pain killers helped.

The festival ran for three days, and I was expected to perform on all three days. The first day, the festival kicked of at five in the afternoon. I was the third act on. My performance was scheduled to start at seven.

I left Adam to wander around the city, as I needed to practice. Back in my room, I went over and over the songs.

Adam turned up with food about three, and we waited for the van to pick us up and take us out to the venue.

Arriving, it was pretty impressive. The crowd had already started to gather, and the queues through the main gates were stretched out into the car park.

We got a couple of beers and found covered seats, so we could listen to the first couple of artists. Like most festivals, it was a slow start. Acoustic solo acts, just to get the audience warmed up.

I knew my role. I'd seen it at a hundred festivals: get on stage and just get things moving.

With the time racing towards me. I went back up on stage and got my shit organized. New batteries for the guitar, test the leads, then test them again. New batteries for the guitar tuner, and tune the guitar. My nerves were shredded. I had never felt like that. I glanced out into the crowd from the edge of the stage and was shocked at how big it was, and they were already noisy.

It was almost a relief when they announced my name. If I had to wait much longer, I would have been a complete wreck.

Walking out onto the stage, the late afternoon sun shining bright, the crowd cheering as I got out to the middle, I did the usual test sequence as I got the engineers to adjust the onstage sound.

It's a funny thing on stage. You have to have complete faith in the engineers. You can't hear the front of house, all you hear is the stage sound.

I looked out across that sea of chanting faces, thousands of people, all calling my name. Somebody started a slow clap, and it just grew.

With my knees knocking and my armpits saturated from nervous sweat, I started. The guitar sounded amazing, the vocals so clear. This was heaven for me. I closed my eyes, trying to take the audience out of the equation. It helped, my voice growing in confidence, but then, I heard it: the crowd singing my words back at me like an incredibly loud echo.

Opening my eyes, I could see them, the masses of faces, their hands up over their heads clapping, their mouths open wide, singing back my lyrics.

It elevated me, and I sang louder, leaving nothing in the bank. I stomped my foot as I let my emotions carry me higher.

At the end of the first song, I let the noise abate before letting my feelings show. "Thanks, people. That was incredible, I might get you back when I record it. You guys are good."

The cheering escalated, the clapping so loud, it was deafening.

Taking a deep breath, I added, "These songs have been around in my head for years. It took a good friend to get them out. I am dedicating this weekend to my best friend, Kiara." At the mention of her name, the crowd went off, the cheering a million decibels higher.

"These are my songs, but without her guidance and encouragement, they wouldn't exist, so, thanks, Kiara. You're the best."

The rest of my short set went way too quickly. It was singularly the most incredible thing I had ever experienced. They carried me, lifted me to new heights.

Walking off the stage to such rapturous applause was humbling.

Adam had managed to get back stage, and met me with a beer. "Fuck, mate. That was amazing."

"Yeah, I don't know what it sounded like out front, but Shit, it sounded great on stage."

"No worries, bro, it was awesome, fucking awesome. You rocked."

We dank the beers sitting in the shade of the stage. "Get us another, will you mate?" I asked hopefully.

"Fuck you, bro. I'm not your slave." He laughed, but vanished, returning with an armful. We listened to the next act from the wings. It was the first band for the night, and they were pretty good.

With the beers gone, we walked off to find some food.

As we battled through the crowd, there was a lot of back slapping and hundreds of congrats on a good performance. We broke through, out onto the grass, into the open area behind the compressed throng of writhing bodies.

Adam fell upon my back. "Oh man, that was insane, bro."

As I tried to shake him off, I heard that voice. "Great performance, Nash. Truly amazing."

Adam and I both turned to see Kiara standing dressed in a long flowing caftan thing, hair cut short, and dyed almost raven-black, wearing a bandanna like a head scarf and a pair of huge sunglasses.

I opened my arms, and she was suddenly pressed up against me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her wet sticky cheeks sliding over mine, slippery and damp.

Then, in a moment of pure ecstatic joy, her lips crushed in mine, her tongue hungry and urgent, sliding fervently around my mouth. I inhaled through her mouth, her essence flowed through us both. My senses awash with her presence, her body squirmed and wriggled against me.

We both heard Adam at the same time. "I might go to the bar."

Kiara broke our embrace and leaped into his arms. "Not so fast, buddy." He got a kiss, as well, although his was of an entirely more sisterly variety.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in bewilderment.

"As if I was going to miss this. No way, buddy. The moment you told me about it I just knew I had to get here."

She was back in my arms in a flash. "You sounded awesome, Nash."

"Thanks, I was pretty happy with the sound."

As we swayed to and fro, Adam coughed. "I'm going to the bar, should I get you guys something?"

"Beer for me, what about you, Kiara?"

She sighed, "Hmmm, beer sounds good, I'll have a Steinlager."

He disappeared as we hugged even tighter. "Where are you staying?" I asked.

"Well, nowhere at the moment. I came straight from the airport."

I chuckled lightly. "My room is a double."

She smirked at my discomfort. "Wow, you are a smooth talker."

"I was only offering the sofa."

She pouted. "You were going to make me sleep on the sofa?"

With a deep sigh, I mumbled, "Okay, I'll sleep on the sofa."

She swung around, dragging me with her. "Oh my god. I can't believe I'm back in your arms."

"I have missed you, Kiara. I really have. I'm so glad you're here."

"I had to come. Your first big show. And you were so good. I am in awe."

"Shut the gate. Don't be condescending."

She stopped spinning. "Nash, I mean it. I wasn't being insulting. You were fabulous."

"You have played much bigger shows. You don't have to flatter me."

"Christ, I'm trying to give you a compliment. Can't you just accept it."

"Sorry, I thought you were just being nice."

"No way. I loved it. Are you playing again, or was it a one off?"

"Same time tomorrow, and early afternoon, Sunday."

She clapped her hands, and gave me a big smile. "Awesome."