DISGRACED SOCIALITE DYLAN REDCROWN: GUILTY VERDICT ALL BUT SEALED?

Ricky Scott for TMZ

Once known for rubbing shoulders with Hollywood's elite, Dylan Redcrown's fall from grace has been nothing short of catastrophic. Now, with his month-long trial coming to a close, the question on everyone's lips is not if he will be found guilty—but just how long he'll spend behind bars.

Redcrown has staunchly maintained his innocence against a tidal wave of allegations, including multiple counts of sexual assault, drug importation (Redcrown is believed to have been in charge of a black market operation that was importing thousands of grams of cocaine into the USA), blackmail, and obstruction of justice. But the courtroom walls have echoed with chilling testimonies from his victims - three of whom have already bravely spoken out, detailing the sinister lengths the socialite allegedly went to in order to silence them. The fourth victim is the only one not to have a count of sexual assault linked to them.

With the jury set to deliberate after the final witness takes the stand tomorrow, the identity of Redcrown's fourth and final accuser remains a mystery. Sources close to the case claim that their testimony could be the final nail in Redcrown's coffin. "We're expecting bombshell revelations," an insider told TMZ. "If what we're hearing is true, Redcrown's sentence could be even harsher than anticipated."

Legal experts predict that Redcrown could face at least a minimum sentence of 292 months - a staggering 24 years behind bars. But with tomorrow's testimony looming, that number could climb even higher.

While the world watches this real-life courtroom drama unfold, one person has remained conspicuously absent - Redcrown's pop-star girlfriend, Leia Hudson. The normally spotlight-loving chart-topper has been uncharacteristically silent, sparking intense speculation about where she stands amid the damning accusations.

Fans have flooded social media with pleas for Hudson to take a stand, with #LeiaSpeakOut trending for weeks. But despite the outcry, Hudson has kept her lips sealed, failing to condemn or distance herself from her disgraced lover.

"Her silence is deafening," tweeted one former fan. "How can you claim to be an advocate for women and still stand by a man like this?"

Others, however, believe Hudson's silence suggests turmoil behind closed doors.

"Maybe she's trapped, maybe she's scared," said a source within the music industry. "There's a lot of power and influence at play here. If she speaks out, she risks backlash from the people who once backed Dylan. If she doesn't, she risks losing everything - her reputation, her career, her fans."

Will Redcrown finally face the consequences of his alleged reign of criminal activity? And will Leia Hudson finally break her silence? One thing's for certain - the world is watching, and justice is long overdue.

_____

She'd lost almost half a year of her life to Dylan.

He'd approached her in March, and things had spiralled quickly out of her control after that. Six months of suffering at the hands of the man she had once thought she was head over heels in love with - not realising it wasn't him, but the little bag of white powder that he supplied that she really loved.

Now, Dylan was about to lose at least two-hundred and ninety-two months of his.

That's what the Thena and the prosecutors had told her. If everything went the way it was predicted to go today, he was going to sentenced to at least seven different counts - totalling somewhere between two-hundred and ninety-two months and three-hundred and sixty-five. 

She'd thought they meant days when they first told her, and the dread had filled her stomach. When they reconfirmed that it was months, something in her lifted. He'd be going away for at least twenty years. She would be free from this entrapment that he'd had her under twice in her life. She could go and live. She could go, and explain everything to Taylor. Taylor would understand, and welcome her back into her life.

Things would go back to how they were.

If this was a fairytale, Leia bitterly thought.

This had already been dragged out long enough. He'd been arrested at the club back at the end of June, and now they were about to enter the second week of August. Leia wasn't unfamiliar with court systems, so she'd honestly been surprised at how quickly things had even gone to court - but it seemed Dylan (and some con-conspiraceers she'd never even heard of) had made a lot of people in a lot of high places very angry.

Turns out that it wasn't just blackmailing Leia that was on the list of things the FBI were planning to prosecute him on. In fact, that was probably the lowest thing on their list. Several counts of drug possession, a count of drug importation with more being contested, and possession of an illegal firearm - that he'd apparently had tucked in his coat when he'd sat there with her and Niall.

Then there was the other counts. The blackmail of other women in his life hadn't surprised Leia - she was remarkably saddened to know that there were other people that he had been blackmailing for years that were now finally able to step forward, but the counts of sexual assault had really put things into perspective for her.

And he'd been standing there in court, denying it, despite the ridiculously high amounts of evidence that was piled against him.

She'd managed to keep her name out of the press, even although it seemed to be killing her reputation even more than it had already been trashed. She knew she'd have to come forward at some point, and they'd been kind enough to leave her to the last day. 

Why? Because the second she stood on that stand and they went into detail of the photos he'd used to blackmail her and the contracts and the messages and the wire recordings... Georgie's name was in those documents and in the reporting and in the news.

"I'm not the scared little kid who needed you to check under the bed for monsters anymore."

Georgie had told her.

"No," Leia had agreed with a sad smile. "Now the monsters wear designer suits and have powerful friends."

All of this had been to protect her, but now it was time to protect everyone else.

The courtroom was too bright. That was Leia's first thought as she followed the court officer down the center aisle. Every eye in the room tracked her movement—journalists with their pens poised, spectators leaning forward in their seats, and worst of all, Dylan himself, sitting at the defence table with that infuriating smirk she'd grown to fear.

A ripple of whispers swept through the courtroom. Camera shutters clicked frantically.

She placed her hand on the Bible, swore to tell the truth (although she wasn't religious so she wondered how many people who also weren't felt like they were okay to lie, something Riven told her to keep to herself on), and settled into the chair that would hold her as she finally shed the secrets she'd been carrying.

"Please state your name for the record," the prosecutor, a stern blonde woman that had terrified her when they first met, requested.

Leia leaned toward the microphone. "Leia Hudson."

"Ms. Hudson, can you tell the court how you first became acquainted with the defendant, Dylan Redcrown?"

Leia's gaze drifted past Thena to where Georgie sat, her sister's eyes brimming with a fierce pride that gave Leia strength.

"I met him at an afterparty a few years ago. He approached me, claimed to be a big fan of my music." A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "He was charming. Said all the right things."

"And how did your relationship progress?"

Leia inhaled deeply. 

"Fast. Too fast, looking back. Within weeks, he'd isolated me from friends, especially Ta- especially Tate, my dog. He... he introduced me to cocaine. Said it would help with my performance anxiety."

Leia's fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the edge of the witness stand. The prosecutor nodded encouragingly, and Leia felt a surge of determination course through her veins.

"It started with just a little," she continued, her voice growing stronger. "Just enough for an afterparty. But soon it was... more. Always more. And then I was dependent on it - on him. My friends saved me."

"Which friends?"

Oh, Leia thought. That hadn't been discussed as a conversation topic. She looked to Thena and Riven who nodded.

"Industry friends, that I was close to at the time. Selena Gomez, Camila Cabello, Gigi Hadid, ehm... Cara Delevigne and Taylor Swift were the more hands-on ones."

If this wasn't already headline news by the time they broke up for jury deliberation, it certainly would be now with name droppings like that.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Dylan's smirk faltering. His attorney leaned over, whispering something in his ear, but Dylan brushed him off with a dismissive gesture.

"Ms. Hudson," the prosecutor said, approaching with a document in hand, "I'd like to present Exhibit 47A. Can you identify this?"

The court officer handed her what appeared to be a contract. Leia's stomach lurched at the familiar letterhead.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's a contract Dylan had me sign in March of this year."

"And what were the terms of this agreement?"

Leia swallowed hard. 

"It gave him control over my social media, my public appearances, pretended to date him. Who I could see, who I could talk to. It even dictated what I could wear." She paused, glancing toward Georgie, who gave her a subtle nod. "And the consequences if I failed to comply with what he wanted."

"And what were the consequences? What could have persuaded you, someone who had long escaped an emotional abusive relationship with the defendant, to willing enter into a fake relationship with him?"

The courtroom seemed to hold its collective breath as she steeled herself for what came next.

"Blackmail," she said, the word hanging in the air like a thunderclap. "He had photos. Intimate photos that were never meant to be seen by anyone."

The prosecutor approached closer. "Can you elaborate, Ms. Hudson?"

Leia closed her eyes briefly, summoning strength from some reservoir she didn't know she possessed. When she opened them again, she found Georgie's gaze once again - steady, unflinching, giving her permission to continue.

"Earlier this year, Dylan showed me photographs of my younger sister, Georgie." The words scraped against her throat like broken glass. "Nude photographs that were never meant to be seen by anyone. He'd gotten them after Niall—Niall Horan's iCloud account was hacked. He said... he was planning on posting them to the entire world if I didn't comply."

A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom. 

Dylan's attorney stood abruptly. 

"Objection, Your Honour. Speculation about how these alleged photos were obtained."

"Your Honor," the prosecutor countered, "we have digital forensic evidence that will be presented showing the exact path these images took from Mr. Horan's compromised account to the defendant's devices."

The judge nodded. "Overruled. Continue, Ms. Hudson."

"He knew exactly what he was doing," Leia continued, her words gaining momentum. "He showed me drafts of tweets with the photos attached. He had captions written, hashtags ready. He had already created anonymous accounts across multiple platforms. He said-"

The courtroom hung on her every syllable. Even the judge leaned forward slightly, his typically impassive face betraying a flicker of disgust.

"So I agreed," Leia said. "I signed his contract. I let him parade me around like a trophy. I cut off my friends, my support system. I smiled for cameras while he whispered threats in my ear. He said he would destroy Georgie's entire life if I slipped up."

Leia's gaze drifted to Dylan, who now sat rigid in his chair, his earlier smugness replaced by a tightly controlled anger she recognized all too well. The mask was slipping.

"And you believed him?" the prosecutor asked.

"Yes." Leia's response was immediate. "I'd seen what he was capable of. The night we broke up the first time, he threatened to ruin me. Three days later, blind items appeared in tabloids questioning my sobriety, my talent, my mental health. Small things at first, but they grew. And then... then he was the one that leaked the photographs that outed my sexuality to the press."

Another gasp from the benches.

"Quiet please," the judge reminded, the room falling silent again.

"Objection, Your Honor! This allegation about leaked photos has not been substantiated and is clearly an attempt to prejudice the jury."

"Your Honour," the prosecutor interjected, "messages relating to the distribution of the photos in question were recovered from a personal phone during Mr. Redcrown's arrest and are listed as Exhibit 23."

"Overruled," the judge stated firmly. "Continue, Ms. Hudson."

Leia continued to tell her story, answering both the questions from the prosecutor and the defence. The fear that had once paralysed her was transforming into something else... a righteous anger that fuelled her testimony.

And when she finished, she looked to the jury.

And she knew.

It was over.

____

____

Everyone was tip-toeing around her.

She'd noticed it when she first entered the building. 

The makeup artist's hands had trembled slightly as she applied Taylor's lipstick, her usual cheerful chatter reduced to murmured pleasantries. Even Marco, the photographer who had worked with Taylor for years and normally greeted her with exuberant hugs and animated stories about his children, seemed subdued. His instructions were professional but lacked their usual playful edge.

"Can we try one with your chin tilted down just a touch?" Marco called from behind his camera. "Beautiful, that's perfect."

Taylor followed his direction, the soft click of the camera filling the uncomfortable silence. She caught two assistants whispering in the corner, their eyes darting toward her before quickly averting when she looked their way. One of them was scrolling through her phone, showing something to the other with wide eyes before hastily tucking it away.

"Is everything okay?" Taylor asked during a break, as a stylist adjusted the collar of her vintage Chanel jacket.

"Of course!" The stylist's voice pitched higher than normal. "Everything's great. You look stunning."

Taylor's gaze found Tree across the room, her publicist engaged in what appeared to be an intense conversation on her phone, her back turned to the set. Tree's shoulders were tense, her free hand gesticulating in that particular way it did when she was putting out fires. When she ended the call and turned around, her practiced smile did little to mask the concern in her eyes.

"Water?" A production assistant materialised beside Taylor, offering a glass with ice and lemon.

"Thank you." Taylor accepted it with a smile. "I feel like I'm missing something today. Everyone seems... I don't know, off?"

"I'm sorry, your publicist said-" The assistant's eyes widened momentarily, almost as if her thoughts had caught up with what she was just about to say, before she recovered. "I think everyone's just focused on getting the perfect shots for the cover. You know how it is with deadlines."

The wardrobe stylist approached with her next look before she could ask anything else, a structured blazer dress in midnight blue. As Taylor slipped behind the changing screen, she caught snippets of hushed conversation from the other side.

"...believe she actually did that..."

"...honestly, I just feel bad for the sister, not so much Leia Hudson..."

Taylor froze, one arm through the sleeve of the blazer. Leia's name sent a jolt through her system. It had hurt more than Taylor cared to admit. She hadn't heard from Leia since that drunk phone call she'd made - the night Dylan had been arrested a few weeks prior. 

"We're ready for you, Taylor," called the stylist, her voice unnaturally bright.

Taylor emerged from behind the screen, smoothing down the blazer. "What were you all talking about just now?" she asked directly.

The stylist's smile faltered. 

"Oh, nothing important. Just some industry stuff."

Yup - now Taylor was certain that everyone was tiptoeing around her, and it had something to do with Leia.

She smiled tightly and returned to her position in front of the camera, but her mind was racing. The mention of Leia and Georgie could only mean one thing... something significant had happened, something everyone knew about except her.

Her gaze kept drifting to Tree, who was now furiously typing on her phone, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Even the usual background chatter of assistants and crew had diminished to hushed whispers. A makeup artist approached between shots to blot away a hint of shine from Taylor's forehead, her hands noticeably trembling.

"I heard the testimony was devastating," someone whispered behind a clothing rack, just loud enough for Taylor to catch. "She named everyone... Swift, Gomez, all of them."

Taylor's heart stuttered. Testimony? What testimony?

"You know," Taylor said conversationally as the woman blotted her lips, "in my experience, when people are working this hard not to tell me something, it's usually something I really need to know."

The makeup artist froze momentarily, her blotting paper suspended midair. "I'm sure I don't—"

"I'm not asking you," Taylor said gently, her eyes never leaving the makeup artist's face. "But I'd appreciate it if someone in this room would treat me like an adult."

The makeup artist's gaze darted frantically toward Tree, who was now watching the exchange with a tightened jaw. The studio fell into an uncomfortable silence, the background hum of equipment suddenly deafening in the absence of conversation.

Tree sighed, tucking a strand of ginger hair behind her ear as she walked over, her voice low and almost hushed. 

"Taylor, we'll talk about it in the car. I promise."

"No," Taylor countered, her voice quiet but firm. "We'll talk about it now. You've not put that phone down since we got here and I'm hearing Leia's name, testimony, my name - what's happening?"

"This isn't the place," Tree murmured, her eyes flicking meaningfully toward the curious onlookers pretending not to listen. "We'll discuss everything in the car, where we have privacy."

Taylor felt her frustration building, a familiar pressure behind her ribcage. She was tired of being handled, of having information filtered and curated before it reached her. The mention of Leia had stirred something protective in her, despite the lingering hurt of their pretty disastrous break-up.

"Tree," she began, her voice taking on that steely quality that Tree hated to hear.

"Not here," Tree interrupted again, her tone softening but still resolute. "Not with twenty pairs of ears hanging on every word. I promise you'll know everything, but not here, Taylor. Please."

The plea in Tree's voice gave Taylor pause. She recognized genuine concern when she heard it. Whatever had happened, it was significant enough that Tree - who typically handled crises with the cool detachment of a chess master - was visibly rattled.

That scared Taylor.

When Marco finally called the wrap, Taylor didn't linger for her usual thank-yous and goodbyes. She changed quickly, leaving the midnight blue blazer draped carefully over a chair, and followed Tree toward the exit.

"Ready?" Tree asked as Taylor approached, her tone deceptively casual.

"Been ready," Taylor replied, adjusting the sweatshirt as she tied her hair back, knowing Drew had the car waiting and ready for them.

The elevator ride down to the parking garage was excruciating. Taylor's fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of Joe's sweatshirt, pulling at a loose thread until it unraveled further than she intended. The soft grey cotton had been a comfort when she'd pulled it on that morning - now it felt too warm, almost suffocating. Tree stood beside her, still typing rapidly on her phone, the blue light illuminating the tight lines around her mouth.

Drew was waiting by the black SUV, his muscular frame straightening when he spotted them. His usual easy smile was missing, replaced by a professional nod as he opened the rear door.

Great, Taylor thought. Even he knows before me.

"Thanks, Drew," Taylor murmured, sliding into the cool leather interior. Tree settled in beside her, the door closing with a soft thud that sealed them in privacy. 

The engine hummed to life, vibrating gently beneath them as Drew navigated out of the parking structure. Sunlight streamed through the windows in rhythmic patterns, casting alternating shadows across Tree's troubled face.

"Okay," Taylor said, turning to face her publicist fully. "We're in the car. We have privacy. What the fuck is going on, and why haven't you given me my phone back?"

Tree's fingers stilled on her phone. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and met Taylor's gaze directly.

"Dylan Redcrown's trial concluded today," she began, her voice measured and controlled. "The jury deliberated for less than two hours before returning with a guilty verdict on all counts."

Taylor blinked, processing this information. She'd muted his name on her socials after seeing him with Leia had reopened wounds she thought had long since scarred over.

She knew he was on trial - and she wasn't sure why this was surprising news. 

"Okay," Taylor said slowly. "And?"

"Guilty on all counts," Tree confirmed. "The judge handed down the sentence immediately. Twenty-seven years minimum."

The tension that had been building in Taylor's shoulders eased slightly. She exhaled, watching her breath fog the cool glass of the window.

"Good," she said simply. "That's... good."

Tree shifted in her seat, a sign Taylor knew meant they were only at the beginning of this conversation.

"The final witness in the case testified when we were arriving at the studio this morning," Tree continued, her voice carefully measured. "It was Leia."

"Leia testified?" Taylor repeated, struggling to keep her voice even. "I thought she was still with him. The tabloids have been -"

"It was all fake," Tree interrupted, her eyes never leaving Taylor's face, watching for her reaction. "The relationship, the social media posts, the public appearances. All of it. She was being blackmailed."

Oh.

Oh.

Leia... Leia had told her that she didn't understand why she'd go back to Dylan. Georgie had told them that Leia knew what she was doing and was fine. The way Riven and her team hadn't been worried about her... because it wasn't like last time - not at all.

The car's interior suddenly felt too small, the air too thin.

"According to her testimony, he approached her in March with the blackmail threat. That's when the fake relationship began." 

March. 

The word echoed in Taylor's mind, setting off a cascade of connections. March - when Taylor and Leia had their final, devastating argument. March - when Leia had suddenly gone silent, all attempts at reconciliation abruptly abandoned. March - when Taylor had first seen those paparazzi photos of Leia and Dylan together, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, only moments after they'd called it off.

Tree nodded as she watched the realisation cross her face, the movement barely perceptible. 

"The contract he made her sign was comprehensive. It dictated who she could speak to, where she could go. It specifically named certain people she was to cut contact with."

"Me," Taylor said, not a question but a statement.

"You were at the top of the list," Tree confirmed gently. "Selena, Cara, Camila..."

"Blackmailing her?" Taylor repeated, her voice hardly above a whisper. "With what?" 

Tree's eyes met hers, filled with a sadness that made Taylor's heart constrict painfully in her chest. 

"Photos. Intimate photos of Georgie that he somehow obtained after Niall Horan's iCloud was hacked."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Taylor pressed her palm against the cool leather seat to steady herself, memories flooding back in a torrent she couldn't control. Leia's sudden withdrawal from not just her, but everyone - including Georgie. Georgie turning up on her doorstep in tears, no idea why her sister wouldn't even look at her.

She was protecting Georgie.

"She testified that he threatened to release the photos of Georgie if she didn't comply," Tree continued, her voice gentle but unflinching. "She cut off contact with everyone who might have helped her because he convinced her that he would destroy Georgie's life if she slipped up."

The memory of Leia's voice the time Leia had drunk called her rang before Taylor's ears - the hollow tone, the almost begging for forgiveness. How had she missed it? How had she interpreted fear as coldness, captivity as betrayal?

How had she thrown it all away, without even fighting for her?

____

Honestly, it had been Leia who had suggested they go out to celebrate. 

Riven had rolled his eyes, halfway through drafting some statements for the press, before realising that she was being completely serious. Georgie and Niall were sitting on the Hudson apartment loveseat, eyes both flickering up to look at her in surprise.

"Sorry?"

"I just think, you know, it would be nice to just like... celebrate," Leia admitted, a grin on her face as she played with Tate's ears, the dogs tail smacking against Azul's leg repeatedly. "Isn't that right, Tate? Wittle evil Dylan is off to jail!"

Her voice turned into her dog speak voice at the end, Tate almost getting more excited as if he understood what she was telling him. Riven wouldn't be surprised if Tate had somehow orchestrated everything to get Dylan out his life.

No one on the planet would ever seemingly hate Dylan the way Tate did.

"Leia, I'm not sure that's—" Riven started, but Leia was already on her feet, Tate bounding excitedly around her ankles as if he understood the significance of the moment.

"I'm serious," she insisted, her eyes brighter than Riven had seen them in months. The courtroom pallor that had haunted her face for weeks seemed to have lifted, replaced by a flush of color that reminded him of the Leia he'd known before Dylan had reentered her life. "Let's go somewhere. Anywhere. I don't care if it's just a dive bar or some hole-in-the-wall restaurant. I just need to be... out."

"Dive bar on the east side?"

Leia turned to look at Georgie with a slight scowl, the girl holding her hands up in defence. 

"Look, I think you should just call her before-"

"Nope, not right now," Leia shut down, not wanting to even think about the complicated call she'd be certainly having with Taylor at some point. It wasn't like everything wasn't out in the open now.

Riven set his laptop aside, studying her with the careful scrutiny that had become second nature in his role as her publicist and friend. 

"Why the sudden urge to celebrate? Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to see you excited about something, but—"

"Why?" Leia's laugh bubbled up, genuine and slightly incredulous. She spun around, arms outstretched in the sunlight streaming through the apartment windows. "Because I can, Riv! Because for the first time in six months, I can walk out that door without wondering if he's watching me, or if I'm breaking some ridiculous rule in his contract, or if today's the day he decides to destroy my sister's life."

Georgie shifted uncomfortably on the loveseat, but Niall squeezed her hand, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I just want one night," Leia continued, her voice softening as she knelt beside Tate, burying her fingers in his fur. "One night where I'm not Dylan Redcrown's victim or the music industry's cautionary tale. One night where I'm just... me."

Riven's expression softened. "Your phone's been blowing up non-stop since the verdict. TMZ, Rolling Stone, CNN—they're all clamoring for exclusive statements. The story's everywhere, Lei."

"I know," she sighed, pulling her phone from her pocket and tossing it onto the couch without even glancing at the screen. It continued to flash up with another caller - and Azul could faintly make out that this time it was Shawn Mendes. "I can't even look at it right now. Every time it buzzes, it's like... I don't know, like I'm still not free of him. Like he's still controlling my life from that jail cell."

Georgie picked it up.

"There are seventy-three missed calls," Georgie murmured, peering at the device. "And that's just since we left the courthouse."

"See?" Leia gestured wildly. "That's exactly why I need this. Just one night where I'm not dealing with the aftermath. One night where I can just breathe without his shadow hanging over me."

Riven's expression softened as he watched the determined light in Leia's eyes. He exchanged a meaningful glance with Azul, who had moved from the sofa and was now stood leaning against the side counter, arms crossed but with a faint smile playing at his lips.

"One night," Riven conceded with a dramatic sigh that couldn't quite hide his relief at seeing Leia so animated. "But we're keeping it low-key. No clubs, no places with paparazzi camping outside."

"Yes!" Leia pumped her fist in the air, Tate immediately mimicking her excitement with enthusiastic barks. "I know just the place. This little speakeasy in the Village that Selena told me about. It's super discreet, amazing cocktails, and they have a strict no-photos policy."

Georgie was already on her feet, phone in hand, scrolling through her contacts. 

"I'll text Camila. She's been blowing up my phone all day asking how you're doing."

"Tell her she can meet us there," Leia said, a giddy excitement bubbling through her voice. She turned to Azul, who was already shaking his head in anticipation of what she was about to say.

"Don't even think about it, Hudson," he warned, though his stern expression was betrayed by the warmth in his eyes. "I'm on duty tonight."

Leia approached him, hands clasped together in an exaggerated plea. 

"Come on, Azul. For one night, just be my friend, not my security. Please? You're off the clock. I'm officially declaring it."

"That's not how this works," he replied, though his resolve was clearly weakening. "I can't just decide -"

"Yes, you can," Leia insisted, tugging at his sleeve like an impatient child. The sunlight streaming through the windows caught the auburn highlights in her hair, making them glow like embers. "When was the last time you had a drink with us? Just had fun? Dylan's locked up. The verdict is in. For one night, can't we all just... exhale?"

Azul looked to Riven for support, but found none. Instead, Riven was already typing something into his phone, probably making arrangements for the evening.

"Fine," Azul finally relented, unable to resist her infectious enthusiasm. "But I'm having one drink, maximum. And if I see anything—and I mean anything—that seems off, we're leaving immediately."

Leia squealed with delight, throwing her arms around his neck in a quick, fierce hug. 

"Thank you! This is going to be the best night!"

The atmosphere in the apartment shifted instantly, like a window had been thrown open in a stuffy room. 

Georgie was already halfway to Leia's bedroom, calling over her shoulder, "I'm borrowing that sequinned top you never wear!"

Leia was hot on her heels, following her into her own bedroom as Tate bounded behind them, leaving the three men in the living room. Niall and Riven shared a look before they burst into laughter, more out of disbelief than anything else.

Azul shook his head, a reluctant smile playing at his lips as Niall clapped him on the shoulder.

"You never stood a chance, mate," Niall chuckled. "When either of the Hudson sisters gets that look in their eyes, resistance is futile."

"I think this might actually be good for her. She's been living in this pressure cooker for months." He lowered his voice, glancing toward the bedroom where animated chatter and the occasional burst of laughter could be heard. "I can't remember the last time I heard her laugh like that."

___

Four hours later, the small speakeasy was everything Leia had promised: intimate, discreet, with vintage furniture and amber lighting that cast everyone in a flattering glow. Hidden behind an unassuming door marked only by a small brass plaque, it felt worlds away from the courtroom where Leia had spent the morning.

Best of all - not a single camera or paparazzi in sight.

Leia leaned back against the plush velvet booth, surveying the small gathering around her with a contentment she hadn't felt in ages. Camila, Georgie and Leia were sat at one side of the booth, both of the Hudson sisters trying to fill the girl in on the absolutely madness that had been occurring. They were so much more carefree now. Even Niall had relaxed his protective stance over Georgie, his arm draped casually over the back of the booth as he chatted animatedly with Azul and Riven about the merits of Irish whiskey. 

Adrian had told them that there was no way in hell he'd be caught dead with them on a night out, but did tell them that his kids sent Leia their love after watching the live news.

"To Leia," Camila declared, raising her glass of something fruity and elaborate. "Who is officially the bravest person I know."

"To Leia," the others echoed, glasses clinking in the warm light.

Riven signalled to a waitress, ordering a second round of cocktails for everyone except Azul, who requested sparkling water despite Leia's protests.

"Someone has to stay alert," he reminded her with a smile that softened his words.

Leia took a sip of her second cocktail - something with bourbon that tasted like liquid autumn and faintly of the lips she used to caress - and felt the pleasant warmth spread through her chest. For the first time in months, her shoulders weren't knotted with tension, and she could breathe without that crushing weight pressing down on her sternum.

"God, I missed this," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "Just... being normal."

Camila tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her eyes soft with understanding as she watched Leia. 

"You know what's funny?" Camila said, tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertip. "I keep thinking about that time in Miami, when we all went swimming at four in the morning after the show."

Leia laughed, the sound bubbling up naturally. "With the security guards freaking out because they couldn't see us in the dark?"

"And Taylor kept singing so badly out of tune that Tree came down and told us to shut up," Camila continued, her eyes bright with the memory.

The mention of Taylor's name sent a familiar pang through Leia's chest, but it wasn't as sharp as it had been before. More like the ache of a healing wound rather than a fresh cut. Taylor would know now, that this had never been her choice.

Camila set her glass down, the delicate clink drawing Leia's attention. Something in her friend's expression had shifted, becoming more deliberate, more intentional.

"Have you thought about calling her?" Camila asked softly, her voice barely audible over the jazz music. "Taylor, I mean."

Beside her, Georgie let out a small snort, reaching for her drink. 

"Here we go again," she muttered, though there was no real heat in her words.

Leia shot her sister a warning glance.

"What?" Georgie said, raising her hands in mock surrender, the silver rings on her fingers catching the light. "I've already tried to have this conversation with her like fifty times since the court verdict earlier. She won't hear it."

"Because there's nothing to hear," Leia insisted, suddenly finding the swirling pattern of the wooden table intensely fascinating. "Taylor is with Joe, and this isn't going to suddenly make her change her mind. She chose him, instead of fighting for me."

"You don't know that," Camila said gently, leaning forward. "She thought you chose Dylan. We all did. And now that the truth is out-"

"The truth is that she walked away," Leia interrupted, her voice catching slightly. "I spoke to her that night, when Dylan was arrested. I tried to explain, and she hung up on me."

Georgie rolled her eyes dramatically. "Because she was drunk and in her eyes, you were making zero sense. You weren't exactly obvious with what you were trying to tell her."

"Doesn't matter," Leia muttered, running her finger along the condensation on her glass. "The point is, it's over. Has been for months. I'm just... I'm just trying to focus on today. On being free."

The table fell into a momentary silence, broken only by the soft jazz playing in the background and the distant clink of glasses from the bar. Riven and Niall had fallen into a quieter conversation, sensing the shift in mood at their end of the table.

"Speaking of being free," Camila said, her tone deliberately lighter as she reached for her phone, "have you seen what's trending? #LeiaHudsonDeservesBetter has been number one all day."

Leia groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Please, no social media tonight. I can't handle it."

"It's all positive," Camila insisted, scrolling through her feed. "People are being incredibly supportive. Your fans are organising a massive donation drive for abuse survivors in your name."

"That's... that's actually really nice," she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips.

As the evening progressed, Leia felt layers of tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying begin to dissolve. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter that grew more frequent and less guarded as the night went on. For precious hours, she wasn't thinking about court transcripts or media statements or the uncertain future of her career. 

"I'm going to pee," Leia murmured to Camila and Georgie who had been dancing next to their table. "Either of you need to come?"

When they both shook their heads, Leia smiled and excused herself.

She weaved her way through the crowd, the weight of celebration making her steps light. The bathroom was on the far side of the bar, past the small stage where a jazz quartet was setting up for their next set. The bass player caught her eye and smiled, a simple human connection that wouldn't have been possible weeks ago when every interaction had been filtered through Dylan's jealous gaze.

Freedom tasted sweeter than the bourbon lingering on her lips. She hummed along to the music, feeling the vibrations in her chest, letting her fingertips trail along the textured wallpaper as she walked. Every sensation felt heightened tonight - the soft brush of her blouse against her skin, the gentle pressure of her heels on the wooden floor, the mingled scents of perfume and whiskey and candle wax that filled the air.

God, it was intoxicating to simply exist without fear.

And you know what? Maybe after one more of those sweet bourbon cocktails, she would call Taylor. Joe had always been second best to her - Leia knew that Taylor still cared for her. Sure, she wasn't going to force her to fall back in love with her, but she wanted the other woman to know that if this was what she wanted, she could have her.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges - the press statements, the inevitable questions about her testimony, the careful rebuilding of bridges that Dylan had forced her to burn. But tonight? Tonight was hers alone, unburdened by the past or the future, so if she wanted to fucking phone Taylor, then she was going to do just that.

Leia reached for the bathroom door, her fingers grazing the antique brass handle. The door swung open easily, and she stepped inside, still lost in the pleasant haze of bourbon and freedom and the thought of Taylor running through the streets of New York - the thought of how sweet their reunion would be and -

And there, bent over the marble sink counter, were two women.

Leia froze in the doorway, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft thud. The sound made both women jerk upright, spinning around with wide, startled eyes. One had long dark hair cascading over bare shoulders, the other a bleached blonde pixie cut that caught the light like a halo. They couldn't have been much older than Leia, dressed in the kind of effortlessly cool outfits that screamed 'industry adjacent'. Maybe fashion models, or something.

Between them on the marble countertop lay two thin lines of white powder, meticulously staring her directly in the face.

The sight of it hit Leia like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. For a terrifying moment, she was back in that room with Dylan, watching as he cut perfect lines with his platinum credit card, his smooth voice promising that just one more wouldn't hurt, that it would help her relax, help her create, help her be who she needed to be.

The blonde recovered first, quickly assessing Leia with narrowed eyes. She didn't seem to recognise her, which was a small mercy.

"Hey," the blonde said, her voice carrying a slight rasp. "You're not going to narc on us, right?"

Leia couldn't tear her eyes away from those pristine white lines. They gleamed under the bathroom's vintage lighting like forbidden promises. Her mouth went dry, and she felt her heart hammering against her ribs - a caged animal suddenly alert to the possibility of escape.

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

Dylan wasn't here and pressuring her, so why was this happening?

"I don't think she's done it before," the dark-haired woman whispered to her friend, completely misreading the situation. Her eyes, rimmed with smudged kohl, assessed Leia with a mixture of amusement and something almost like pity. "Look at her face."

The blonde laughed, the sound crystalline and careless. 

"First time? Don't worry, honey. We've all been there." She reached into her clutch, pulling out a crisp fifty-dollar bill and rolling it with practiced precision. "It's not as scary as they make it sound in those after-school specials."

It is scary.

Leia wasn't sure what was scarier - the fact that she knew exactly what it felt like, or that she knew exactly what happened to her when she took it and yet was considering it.

Why hadn't she walked away?

"It feels amazing," the dark-haired woman offered, leaning against the sink with casual grace. "Like everything just... sharpens. Colors get brighter. Music sounds better. All those stupid worries just melt away."

God, Leia remembered that feeling. The crystalline clarity that would wash over her, the sensation that she was finally, truly awake. The way music would flow through her veins like liquid silver, lyrics pouring out effortlessly. The temporary immortality.

"Honestly, after the first hit, you'll wonder why you waited so long," the blonde continued, mistaking Leia's silence for hesitation rather than the desperate internal battle it truly was. She tapped the rolled bill against the marble. "It's just cocaine, not heroin. Everyone in our industry does it. It's practically a job requirement if you want to be on the runway."

Leia swallowed hard, feeling sweat prickle along her hairline. Her palms were clammy, and she could already taste that familiar metallic drip at the back of her throat - a phantom sensation from a past she'd fought so hard to escape.

The dark-haired woman shifted uncomfortably, her bracelets jingling as she moved to stand slightly in front of the evidence on the counter. Her eyes darted nervously to her friend, then back to Leia, taking in her designer outfit and the slightly dazed look in her eyes.

"I don't think..." Leia's words faltered as her gaze remained fixed on those white lines, so perfect and precise.

"You look like you could use a little pick-me-up tonight."

"I'm celebrating, actually," Leia heard herself say, but it felt like she was speaking underwater. 

"Even better! What are we celebrating?"

"I..." Leia swallowed hard. "I got out of a bad situation today."

Only to find herself in another one, right now.

"Girl, same!" The blonde exclaimed, raising her hand for a high-five that Leia didn't return. "I quit my job at this toxic-as-fuck PR firm this morning. My boss was the actual devil."

Leia was achingly aware of how close she was standing to the sink, to those two perfect lines. She could practically feel the ghost of the rolled bill between her fingers, the anticipation of that first burning inhale. How many times had she stood exactly like this in sleek bathroom stalls and private VIP rooms, Dylan's hand resting possessively on the small of her back?

"Here," the blonde said, offering the rolled bill with a conspirator's smile. "First one's on me. Consider it a celebration gift."

Leia's fingers twitched at her sides, her body remembering what her mind was fighting against.

Just one.

The thought slithered through her mind, poisonous and seductive. Just one line to celebrate her freedom. Just one to make the colors brighter, the music sweeter. Just one to feel that rush of invincibility again.

Her hand had actually begun to rise when the bathroom door swung open with such force that it banged against the wall.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Georgie's voice cut through the room like arctic wind, making both women flinch.

She stood in the doorway, her dark eyes taking in the scene with lightning-quick precision. Her gaze darted from the cocaine on the counter to the rolled bill in the blonde's hand to Leia's ashen face, and in an instant, her expression hardened into something fierce and terrible.

The blonde recovered first, adopting a casual stance as she lowered the bill. "Chill out, we're just having a little fun. Your friend here was -"

"My sister," Georgie corrected, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave, "is a recovering addict. And you're standing there trying to offer her cocaine like it's a fucking breath mint."

The dark-haired woman's eyes widened in recognition, her gaze flickering back to Leia's face with new understanding. "Oh my god, you're -"

"Get out," Georgie commanded, stepping fully into the bathroom and holding the door open. "Now."

"Look, we didn't know," the blonde started, her previous confidence evaporating under Georgie's glare. "We were just -"

"I don't care what you were 'just' doing," Georgie snapped, her small frame vibrating with barely contained fury. "You don't offer drugs to strangers in bathrooms. What is this, a bad '90s movie? Get the hell out before I call security and have them check your purses."

The threat of security was enough to galvanize them into action. The blonde hurriedly swept the powder off the counter with the edge of her hand, leaving faint white traces on the marble. Both women grabbed their clutches and scurried past them, leaving the two sisters alone in the bathroom.

Georgie turned to Leia, her fierce expression melting.

"It's okay," Georgie said softly, reaching out to touch Leia's trembling arm. Her fingers were gentle, a stark contrast to the fury she'd unleashed moments before. "You didn't do it. That's what matters."

Leia's legs suddenly felt too weak to support her. She leaned back against the tiled wall, letting her head fall against it with a soft thud. The cold ceramic pressed against her shoulder blades through the thin fabric of her blouse, grounding her in the moment.

"I was going to," Leia whispered, the confession hanging in the air between them like smoke. "If you hadn't walked in, I would have done it."

A tear slipped down her cheek, carving a path through her carefully applied makeup. She didn't bother to wipe it away. 

"God, Georgie, I was actually reaching for it. After everything – the trial, the testimony, getting free from him – I was still going to..."

Her voice broke on the last word, and Georgie stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her sister's shoulders. Leia could smell her familiar perfume – something with jasmine and vanilla that Leia had given her for Christmas – mixed with the faint scent of tequila from her earlier drinks.

"I shouldn't have even wanted it," Leia said, her voice catching. "After everything we've been through, after testifying about what he did to me with the drugs, I should be stronger than this."

"That's not how addiction works, and you know it," Georgie said, her voice gentle but firm.

"I didn't think... I didn't think I was an addict," Leia admitted. "And you know what? I was actually thinking about calling Taylor right before this happened. Can you imagine? Hi Taylor, I'm high as a kite again, please take me back."

Georgie's lips quirked into a small smile that didn't really reach her cheeks. "Well, that would've been one way to restart things."

A wet laugh escaped Leia's throat. 

"God, I'm a mess."

Leia moved to the sink, turning on the cold water and letting it run over her wrists. The shock of the cold against her pulse points sent a clarifying jolt through her system. She watched the water swirl down the drain, mesmerised by its simple, cleansing path.

"I was so focused on getting through the trial, on making sure he paid for what he did," Leia continued, her voice steadier now but hollow with realization. "I never stopped to think about what would happen after. What would happen when I had to face myself again."

She looked up, meeting her own gaze in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a stranger – beautiful still, but haunted. Her carefully applied makeup couldn't hide the shadows beneath her eyes or the slight hollowness in her cheeks.

She suddenly felt stone cold sober, and almost like she knew exactly what needed to be done.

"I need some air," she whispered, pushing away from the wall.

Georgie nodded, keeping one arm around Leia's waist as they left the bathroom. Leia kept her head down, letting Georgie guide her through the maze of tables and bodies.

"Everything okay?" Azul asked, immediately alert as they approached the table. His eyes scanned Leia's face, noting the smudged mascara and the slight tremble in her hands.

"We're leaving," Georgie announced, her tone brooking no argument. "Now."

Something in her voice must have communicated the urgency of the situation because no one questioned her. Riven immediately signaled for the check while Niall gathered their jackets. Camila slid out of the booth, her eyes wide with concern as she took in Leia's ashen face.

"What happened?" she whispered to Georgie.

"Later," Georgie mouthed, giving a slight shake of her head.

The cool night air hit Leia's face like a blessing as they stepped outside. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the crisp September air, letting it chase away the phantom taste of cocaine that lingered in the back of her throat. She might not have taken it there, but it was with her forever now.

"I'll get us a car," Riven said, already pulling out his phone.

"No," Leia said, her voice stronger than she expected. "I want to walk. Just for a bit."

Azul exchanged a glance with Georgie, who gave a slight nod.

"We'll walk with you," he said, positioning himself at her side.

The six of them moved through the West Village streets as they headed back towards the Hudson sisters' apartment, their pace unhurried despite the tension humming between them. They walked in a peaceful silence, everyone waiting on Leia to say something and break the tension that she'd created amongst them.

Riven placed a soft arm on her wrist as he walked alongside her, the girl moving closer and leaning her head on his shoulder before she slowed to a halt, her mind made up as she turned to look at them.

"I need help."

____

Taylor continued to pace back and forth, ignoring the way that Austin seemed to get more and more agitated every time she passed by him and nudged his foot slightly.

They'd planned to meet up for dinner at her apartment, and he'd been blissfully unaware that Tree was going to be joining them. He liked Tree, but it was always a bit random to walk into Taylor's house and find the red-head sitting at her table at this time of night. 

"Taylor," Austin tried for what felt like the hundredth time, "you're going to wear a trench in Mom's old rug if you keep this up."

She barely registered his words, her fingers tapping restlessly against her thigh as she moved. Each pass by the large windows overlooking the city revealed the same sprawling tapestry of lights – countless lives unfolding in countless apartments, none of them wrestling with the particular storm that raged inside her.

Her phone lay on the coffee table, screen dark and accusatory. She'd pick it up, scroll to Leia's contact, hover her thumb over the call button, then set it back down again.

"What if she doesn't want to hear from me?" Taylor murmured, not really addressing anyone in particular. Her voice seemed to float in the air of the apartment, mingling with the faint scent of the untouched dinner that had gone cold on the dining table. "What if I'm the last person she wants to talk to right now?"

Austin exchanged a look with Tree, who was seated at the dining table, her laptop open but largely ignored as she watched Taylor's restless movements. The publicist's normally impeccable posture had softened slightly, her shoulders rounded with concern for her friend and client.

"I mean, what would I even say? 'Hey, sorry I thought you abandoned me for your abusive ex-boyfriend when actually you were being blackmailed and couldn't tell me?'"

Tree sighed, setting down her glass of wine on a coaster. The rich burgundy liquid caught the warm light from the lamp beside her, casting ruby shadows across the polished wood.

"Taylor," Tree said, her voice gentler than usual, "you've been asking the same question for hours now. And I'll tell you the same thing I've been telling you: only you can decide if you're ready to have that conversation."

Austin looked between them, confusion evident in the furrow of his brow. 

"How long has this been happening?" he asked Tree, gesturing toward Taylor, who had resumed her relentless pacing. "The whole..." he made a circular motion with his finger, "this."

"All evening," Tree replied, checking her watch with a slight grimace. "Going on five hours now. She started the moment we got back from the shoot and hasn't stopped except to change clothes and use the bathroom."

"Five hours?" Austin's eyebrows shot up. "Tay, that's not normal. Even for you."

"Nothing about this situation is normal, Austin," Taylor snapped, her voice cracking slightly. 

The sharp edge in her voice caught Austin off guard. He leaned back in his chair, studying his sister with a mixture of concern and wariness. Taylor rarely directed her frustration at him - at least not with that raw, ragged tone that suggested she was dangerously close to breaking.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, running her fingers through her hair, further disheveling the blonde strands. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just... God, I don't know what to do."

Austin rose from his seat, crossing the room to intercept her pacing. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop and meet his gaze.

"Taylor, listen to me. You're overthinking this. Just call her."

"It's not that simple," she insisted, pulling away to resume her circuit around the living room. "You didn't see the transcript of her testimony. The things Dylan made her do... the threats he made... she must have been terrified for months, and I thought she'd just—" Her voice caught. "I thought she'd just decided I wasn't worth fighting for."

"And now you know that wasn't true," Tree interjected, closing her laptop with a soft click. "She was protecting her sister."

"The worst part is that she tried to tell me," Taylor whispered, ignoring Tree. "That night, when she called. She was trying to explain, and I was too hurt, too angry to listen."

Austin exchanged another glance with Tree, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Taylor," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "I love you, but you're being ridiculous. You didn't know. How could you have known? You're not psychic."

"I love Joe," Taylor announced, her voice firm as she suddenly changed the course of the conversation. "I love Joe, so why am I like this right now?"

Austin's expression softened as he watched his sister's inner turmoil play out across her face. The conviction in her voice didn't match the desperate uncertainty in her eyes.

"Do you?" he asked simply.

Taylor stopped pacing, her hands falling limply to her sides. "What kind of question is that?"

"An honest one," Austin replied, his voice gentle but unflinching. "You've been wearing a path in Mom's rug for five hours because of Leia. Not because of Joe."

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken truths. Taylor moved to the window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. Below, New York continued its relentless rhythm, oblivious to her inner chaos.

"I do love Joe," she said finally, her breath fogging the glass. "He's kind and stable and... safe."

"But?" Austin prompted.

"But with Leia, it was..." Taylor's voice trailed off as she searched for the right words. "It was like standing at the edge of something vast and terrifying and beautiful all at once. Like I could either step back into safety or leap into something that might destroy me or transform me completely."

She turned to face them, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

"And I was so scared of being destroyed again that I chose safety."

Taylor moved toward the coffee table, decision made. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat a countdown to a moment that could change everything. She reached for her phone, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the dark screen.

"I'm calling her," Taylor announced, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "Whatever happens, at least I'll know I tried."

Austin gave her an encouraging nod, his eyes warm with approval. Tree remained silent, her expression carefully neutral as she watched Taylor unlock her phone. The soft blue glow illuminated Taylor's face as she navigated to her contacts, scrolling past dozens of names until she reached Leia's.

Just as her thumb was about to press the call button, Tree's phone buzzed sharply against the wooden table. The sudden noise cut through the tense silence of the apartment like a thunderclap.

Tree glanced down, expecting to dismiss whatever notification had come through, but her expression changed instantly. The colour drained from her face, her professional composure cracking as she read whatever message had appeared on her screen.

"Taylor, wait," she said, her voice tight with urgency. "Don't call her. Not right now."

Taylor froze, her finger suspended above Leia's name. "What? Why?"

Tree didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stared at her phone screen, her expression shifting from shock to something heavier, more somber. She inhaled deeply, then ran a hand over her face, the gesture uncharacteristically weary for someone who prided herself on maintaining control in every situation.

"Tree?" Austin prompted, straightening in his chair. "What's going on?"

The publicist looked up, meeting Taylor's questioning gaze with reluctance.

"It's from Riven," Tree said finally, referring to Leia's publicist. "He just sent me a heads-up. Professional courtesy."

Taylor's hand fell to her side, the phone still clutched tightly in her grip. Something in Tree's tone sent a chill through her, like the first whisper of winter wind through autumn leaves.

"Tell me," Taylor demanded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

Tree set her phone down carefully, as if the device itself might shatter under the weight of the message it carried. She took another deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling beneath her crisp blouse.

"Leia checked herself into rehab tonight."

.

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A bit of a longer chapter, but wanted you to understand what's going on in Leia's head! Don't worry - we'll be picking up in a bit of a lighter spot over the next few chapters and as we kick off the third and final act of this story, there's a lot more cute and fun things coming now that we've kicked Dylan to the curb!