January 2020

Leia had thought the hard part would be telling them.

Standing in her childhood home last August, her hands shaking as she looked at her mother, her sister, her father, and finally saying the words: I need help. I'm going to rehab.

But the truth was, saying it had been the easy part.

It was what came after that had nearly broken her.

The first few weeks in treatment had been a fog. A brutal, unrelenting haze of withdrawal, exhaustion, and therapy sessions where she had to sit across from a stranger and say things out loud she had only ever admitted to herself in the quietest, loneliest moments.

She hadn't really thought of herself as an addict until Georgie had said it so easily in the bathroom that night. Hadn't really thought that she could be an addict when she'd only had a few trips of taking cocaine here and there. 

She had spent her Mom's birthday in rehab, eating a dry piece of chocolate cake while the other patients sang halfheartedly, their voices dulled by their own exhaustion. She had spent Thanksgiving in the same chair she sat in every morning at group, listening to someone new tell their story, knowing they were all just trying to hold on. She'd spent months of her life in Upstate New York, at a stunning private facility that Adrian had recommended.

And not a single soul outside of her inner circle - and those that needed to know - had known a thing about it.

By Christmas, she had been clean for nearly two months. That had been her goal - to get home in time for the holidays, to be able to sit at the dinner table with Georgie and her parents and feel there, actually there, not the drifting, distant version of herself she had been for so long since Dylan had started taking over her entire life.

And she had done it.

She had made it through Christmas morning without sneaking a drink or slipping off to be alone. She had rung in the new year with nothing stronger than a sip of champagne, watching fireworks burst over the frozen lake outside the rented beach house that her parents had been staying in down in North Carolina, breathing in the cold air and letting it sting her lungs, reminding her that she was alive.

And now, somehow, it was January 31.

The fans had been worried. They'd heard nothing from her - and the paparazzi in New York had almost given up on seeing her leave the apartment now. They must have figured out that she simply was no longer there, especially since Georgie and Tate only ever seemed to be the ones entering and leaving. 

She was sure that the singular paparazzi that had decided to visit her apartment at the exact moment she returned with Georgie, Tate, Azul and Riven was about to have a field day of offers for those photos. 

The headlines would be splashed across every tabloid by morning: LEIA HUDSON SPOTTED FOR FIRST TIME IN FIVE MONTHS. She could already picture the speculation, the theories, the way they'd analyse her appearance for any sign of what she'd been through. That's why Riven had insisted on the oversized sunglasses, the casual but deliberately chosen outfit - a soft cream sweater that made her look healthy. An outfit that didn't scream 'hey, I've been in rehab for months because I got addicted to cocaine ridiculously easily'.

Tonight, she was sitting in her living room, which felt both achingly familiar and strangely new, like returning to a childhood home after years away. The furniture was the same – the plush sectional that wrapped around the corner of the room, the coffee table where she'd once spilled red wine during a particularly competitive game night, leaving a faint stain that no amount of cleaning could fully remove. But the air felt different somehow. Cleaner.

"You okay?" Georgie asked, settling beside her on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on her lap. 

"I'm fine," Leia said automatically, then caught herself. One of the things she'd learned in rehab was to stop saying she was fine when she wasn't. "Actually, I'm nervous. But I'm here. That counts for something, right?"

Georgie squeezed her hand. 

"It counts for everything."

Leia was sure about that. They'd all been through a lot and sometimes she wondered if she was too much for them all.

Yet, they'd still dropped everything to come to her apartment when she said she wanted to watch the Miss Americana documentary as soon as it dropped on Netflix.

She hadn't spoken to Taylor since rehab. Hadn't reached out, hadn't dared to, because what would she even say? Sorry I disappeared? Sorry I couldn't be the person you needed? Sorry I was being blackmailed into breaking up with you, but you also didn't even try to stop me from doing that and I kind of hate you for it, even though I don't think I ever could hate you?

And maybe more than that - maybe she was afraid that Taylor simply wouldn't have cared.

Taylor had been a part of her life for years. She had loved her - God, she still loved her, no matter how much she wished she didn't. No matter how painful it was, she still wanted to see the documentary. Even if she was sure there was going to be lots of Taylor and Joe mentions, since they were still together.

And besides, Leia was in it.

Only for a few seconds, probably. A flash of old tour footage, a clip of them standing backstage, maybe. But she had been one of the opening acts for the Reputation Stadium Tour. She had been there, in the orbit of Taylor's world, back when everything still made sense. She'd been there when they'd filmed parts of that, when Jana had asked her to do a short interview about the tour incase it made it into future footage.

Leia sat curled up on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap, her socked feet tucked beneath her. The lights in the living room were dimmed, the soft glow of the television the only illumination.

Georgie, was stretched out beside her, scrolling mindlessly through her phone between bites of ice cream. Across the room, Riven was perched on the arm of a chair, fingers wrapped around a glass of wine, while Azul sat on the floor, his back against the couch, one hand lazily tracing circles on Riven's knee. Tate had disappeared into the apartment, probably sulking that he was back in New York and no longer exploring the beaches in NC.

Taylor's voice filled the room, familiar and measured, as Miss Americana unfolded on the screen. Leia hadn't been sure she even wanted to watch it - too many memories lived inside Taylor's voice, too many ghosts lurking beneath every song, every interview, every soft, thoughtful pause.

Georgie had pressed play before she could make another excuse, and now here they were, an hour into it, all drawn in. Most of it was familiar to Leia - the recap of Taylor's life, the snippets and beats of things that she'd done in her career. The Kimye drama, the reputation tour - it was all so fucking familiar.

Until it shifted.

Taylor sat curled into the corner of her couch, a loose knit blanket draped over her legs. The late afternoon light softened the room, casting long shadows against the cream-colored walls of her Nashville apartment. A cup of tea sat on the armrest beside her, half-forgotten, the steam curling into the air. She looked at it for a moment, then out the window, then finally back at the camera.

"I think..." she started, then hesitated. Her fingers twisted in the hem of her oversized sweater, a nervous tic she wasn't even aware of. "I think for so long, I was living my life in a way that made other people comfortable. And I didn't even realise I was doing it, because... well, that was just how it worked."

She gave a small, almost self-conscious smile, but there was no amusement in it. She exhaled softly and continued. Archival footage flickered across the TV underneath her voice, clips of young Taylor in early interviews, smiling politely, answering questions about 'dream boys' and 'ideal dates'. The camera lingered on her face, young and wide-eyed, giving an automatic, rehearsed laugh at a joke before it cut back to her at the time of filming.

"I grew up being told - maybe not directly, but through everything around me - that I had to fit in a certain box. And I tried. I really did."

Her gaze flickered toward the window again, as if searching for something out there, something just beyond reach. When she turned back, her eyes were clear, but there was something raw behind them, something fragile.

Leia had a gut feeling she knew what was coming.

"The truth is..." she said, voice quieter now, "that's not all of who I am."

Taylor took a deep breath.

"I'm bisexual."

A pause. No dramatic moment of revelation. Just the truth, sitting there, unshaken.

A slow, careful smile tugged at the corner of Taylor's lips, like she was testing how it felt to say it aloud, to finally claim it. Her hands were still folded in her lap, the sleeves of her sweater pulled over her knuckles, the way they always were when she was trying to ground herself.

Georgie's head snapped up from her phone. Azul let out a soft "huh." Riven, who had been swirling the last sip of wine in his glass, suddenly went completely still.

The room felt thick with something unspoken.

Leia exhaled slowly, barely hearing the rest of Taylor's words as they played out in real time.

"And I think I've known that for a long time," Taylor on the screen admitted, her voice steady, even as her fingers curled slightly into the fabric. "But it's scary, you know? Because once you say it, you can't unsay it. And I've built my whole life on being seen a certain way. On being... safe. Relatable. Marketable. For years, I thought if I ever said this out loud, it would ruin everything. My career, my image, everything I'd worked for. I thought people wouldn't understand." 

She gave a small, humourless laugh. 

"And maybe some won't. But I also know I can't keep hiding just because I'm scared."

She shifted slightly, pulling her knees up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. It was a vulnerable posture, but there was a quiet strength in it too.

"I've loved women," she continued, her voice softer now, but resolute. "And I've been afraid to love them in the light. Afraid of what it would mean. What it would cost me."

It was surreal - watching Taylor say it, own it. There had been so many nights when Leia had whispered, It's okay, baby, we don't have to tell anyone yet, into the crook of Taylor's neck. So many mornings where Taylor had pressed a silent kiss to her lips before slipping out the door like a secret.

She'd waited. God, she had waited. Three years in the dark, waiting for Taylor to be ready, waiting for her to be brave enough to love her out loud.

And now she was.

Now, she was saying the words Leia had once ached to hear. And yet.

It wasn't for Leia.

It had never been about Leia.

"But I'm tired of hiding. I'm tired of feeling like I owe anyone an explanation for who I am when I've spent my whole life explaining everything else."

She reached for her tea then, letting her hands warm around the ceramic mug as she took a breath. A few clips of Taylor laughing on tour and in her general life took up the screen, as her voiceover continued.

"And before anyone decides to twist this into something it's not," she added, voice firm now, "I love my boyfriend. I love my relationship. This doesn't change that. I know people are going to have a lot to say about this. They'll pick it apart, spin it into something else. But I don't care anymore. This is just... who I am."

Leia's stomach twisted, nausea creeping in at the edges. She heard Georgie suck in a breath beside her. Azul shifted uncomfortably.

Riven didn't move.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of the television and Taylor's voice echoing through their apartment.

"If there's someone out there who hears this and feels less alone because of it," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else, "then I think that's worth it."

Taylor let out a breath, settling back against the couch. 

"So yeah," she said finally, her voice quieter but filled with certainty. "I'm bisexual. And that's not something I'm ashamed of. It's something I'm proud of."

Leia forced herself to breathe, to keep her face neutral, to swallow down the sharp, unexpected sting in her chest. She was proud of Taylor. She was. She knew how hard this must have been, how much pressure she had been under for years, how terrifying it was to step into the light. Leia had been forced out; Taylor had chosen it. That mattered.

But still - she couldn't stop the way her throat felt tight. Couldn't stop the way her mind whispered, It wasn't your bisexuality you were afraid of. It was me.

She hated herself for thinking it.

Georgie shifted beside her, casting a wary glance in her direction. "Are you -"

"I'm fine," Leia said quickly, a little too sharp.

Riven finally moved then, setting his empty glass down on the table with a soft clink. He reached for his phone, but Leia saw it before he did - the notification glowing faintly on the lock screen. A fucking text from Tree Paine, three hours prior, that he'd clearly not opened.

Leia's stomach dropped.

Riven frowned at the screen, then swiped it open. His brows furrowed as he read, his gaze flicking up to Leia after only a few seconds.

"Shit," he murmured, running a hand through his dark curls. "I should've checked this sooner."

Leia shook her head. "Wouldn't have changed anything."

Silence stretched between them again. Azul shifted to sit up properly, glancing between Riven and Leia like he was waiting for someone to say something that would break the tension.

Finally, Riven exhaled. "You wanna talk about it?"

Leia let out a humorless laugh. "No."

Georgie squeezed her hand gently. "Lee..."

Leia forced a tight-lipped smile and shook her head. "It's fine," she said again, but this time, even she didn't believe it.

Riven didn't push, just leaned back in his seat, regarding her carefully. "You know," he said after a long pause, "she didn't just say it for no reason."

Leia glanced at him.

"I mean, why now?" Riven continued. "What changed? What made her ready?"

Leia swallowed, looking back at the screen. The documentary was still playing, but the moment had passed. The camera had moved on.

She shook her head. "Not me," she said softly. "I wasn't enough."

Georgie pressed her lips together but didn't argue. Azul sighed and leaned his head against Riven's knee.

Leia reached for the remote and turned off the TV. The room sank into silence.

Outside, the night stretched on, quiet and endless. And Leia sat there, staring at the dark screen, pretending her heart didn't ache.

Pretending she wasn't waiting for a text that would never come.

______

August 2020

Leia had relapsed twice.

The first had been somewhat intentional.  

Three weeks after watching the documentary, she'd found herself in a club bathroom, staring at the small bag of white powder a stranger had offered her. She'd taken it without thinking, without hesitating, the need for numbness overwhelming any progress she'd made.

She'd woken up the next morning with Georgie hovering over her, eyes rimmed red, voice hoarse from screaming at her all night. Riven had been there too, silent and stoic, his disappointment more crushing than any words could have been.

The second time had been worse, because she hadn't even meant to do it. She'd been doing so well – two months clean after her first slip, attending meetings, staying away from triggers. Then she'd gone to a brand dinner with Azul - just a small trip out as the pandemic restrictions had loosened a little, thinking she was strong enough to handle it. One glass of champagne had turned into three, then someone had offered her a line in the bathroom, and suddenly she was back where she started, the familiar rush of euphoria washing over her like an old friend.

That time, she'd called Adrian herself, sobbing into the phone at 3 AM as he called the rehabilitation centre back up on the spot.

Now it was August, and she was three months clean. Again. The summer had melted into a haze of therapy sessions, meetings, and long walks along the wilderness of Upstate New York with Georgie and Tate, who had both barely left her side since January.

She'd been working - at their new wilderness cabin home a few hours out of NYC, visiting some other studios and writing with Georgie. Georgie was an awful songwriter and an even worse singer, but it had brought Leia great amounts of joy to have her around during the process.

So in August, things were moving on - and that included being honest with not just herself, but the world around her. 

And it just so happened to be perfectly timed - as it was now a year since Dylan's trial outcome. A year since she'd basically abandoned all communication with everyone outside of her inner circle, and occasionally Camila.

The room smelled like pine disinfectant and rain. Outside, the trees were slick with August humidity, something she had grown to love. It was one of those grey afternoons where time itself seemed to sag - as if the sky might buckle under the weight of everything unsaid. 

She was back at the rehab facility, but not as a patient this time.

Leia sat opposite the interviewer, legs folded under her like a teenager, though the sharpness of her cheekbones and the dark crescents beneath her eyes spoke of a harder, older life than her  years should have allowed. She wore a soft grey hoodie - one of Azul's actually - the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, revealing the faint shimmer of soft skin underneath.

"Do you mind if I record this?" the interviewer asked gently, holding up a small black recorder.

Leia glanced at it and shrugged. "Yeah, go ahead. Not like I haven't had worse things recorded."

She smiled, but there was no real humour in it. If Shawna Richmond, the interviewer, noticed then she didn't say anything. She seemed like a nice woman - mid-thirties, someone that Adrian had known and met a few times before. Leia had read some of her other work and agreed that she'd do her story justice.

"So," the woman began, leaning forward just slightly, "you've been in and out of treatment for a while now. I think a lot of people - fans especially - don't realise just how long this has been part of your life."

Leia's eyes drifted to the window, following the rain as it streaked down the glass. 

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I guess... I guess people only see the highlight reel, right? The stadium shows, the music videos, all that exciting stuff. But it's been messy behind the scenes for a long time."

She ran a hand through her short, platinum-blonde hair, dark roots just starting to show. She'd dyed it a few weeks before. She was planning on dying it back to normal that evening.

"I first checked in here - well, not here exactly, but a place like this - in August 2019. Right after the trial. I was... I was done. I didn't think I was gonna make it to Christmas."

The interviewer's voice softened. "But you did make it to Christmas."

Leia gave a small nod, her gaze still far away. "Yeah. Barely."

She let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sigh. 

"Then I got out, and for a little while, I really thought I had it under control. But February came, and everything just... fell apart again. I relapsed hard. Like, scary hard."

The interviewer didn't speak, letting the weight of her words hang there.

Leia rubbed at the inside of her wrist absently, a nervous gesture she didn't seem aware of. "I went back for a short stint in February. Thought I could fix it fast, you know? Like, patch it up and get back to life. And then...then the world shut down."

She finally looked at the interviewer, her eyes sharp and sad all at once. 

"When COVID hit, I was stuck in our place like everyone. No touring, no studio, no distractions. And I was isolated with my own head, which is a dangerous place for someone like me. I was clean for a bit - scared enough to stay that way - but by summer, I was back at it."

The interviewer's voice was gentle. "And that's when you came back here?"

Leia nodded, pulling her sleeve over her hand for a moment before letting it fall again. "Yeah. Two weeks in June. It wasn't long, but... it was enough to get me back on my feet. And this time, I'm trying to do it different. Like, really do it."

She leaned forward now, elbows on her knees, voice gaining a little more strength. 

"I think what people don't realise is that during the pandemic, addiction got worse for so many people. You're isolated, scared, and everything you usually do to keep yourself okay - friends, work, just being busy  - it's gone. I know I wasn't the only one struggling. And I think it's important to say that. Like, to say, it's okay to need help, even if you've already asked for it before."

Her gaze met the interviewer's, steady despite the flicker of emotion behind it. 

"If I'd waited to be 'bad enough' to ask again, I don't think I'd be sitting here."

The interviewer hesitated, as if weighing whether to bring up the next topic, but Leia only raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"Can I ask," Shawna said carefully, "what it was like, having everything about Dylan Redcrown come out so publicly — and so explosively — during the trial? Which I believe finished exactly a year ago today, which in itself is obviously very symbolic."

Leia let out a long breath, her fingers tangling in the hem of her sleeve. For a moment, she stared down at her hands, the tattoos on her fingers pale against her skin.

"It was... surreal," she said finally, her voice quieter now. "I think I spent so long pretending it wasn't as bad as it was. Like, if I didn't name it, it wouldn't be real. But sitting in that courtroom, hearing them say it out loud, it was like someone ripped the lid off my life."

She swallowed, throat working.

"I checked into rehab the day after they read the verdict," she added, her eyes distant. "Twenty-something years for him... and I guess, in a way, that was when I realized I didn't have to keep carrying it."

The interviewer was silent, giving her space, but Leia kept going, her voice gaining a tremble she didn't bother to hide.

"I mean, people know now that he had those photos of my sister, that he was threatening me to keep up that fake relationship. But what they don't know is how early it started - Dylan was the first person to ever put drugs in my hand. Back in 2016, when I thought I was in love with him. And then again in 2019... You know, once this is out there, a lot of people will ask how ti happened and how I got addicted but honestly, it wasn't a party thing, it wasn't a coping thing - it was survival. It was him."

She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus, to stay composed.

"I cut off everyone," she admitted, softer now. "Even the people I loved most. I said horrible things to them, pushed them away, because I thought if I kept them close, Dylan would find a way to hurt them too. And now... now I'm trying to fix that. Trying to reach out to the people I lost. Even if I was being blackmailed, I still caused pain. And I want to own that."

The interviewer nodded, her eyes kind, though Leia couldn't bring herself to meet them.

"And now?" the interviewer asked gently. "During the pandemic and having this time to just be yourself, what have you been doing outside of rehab? How are you spending your time?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Leia's lips, the first real one of the afternoon. "Honestly? Just... breathing. Re-learning how to be a person in the world again, without all the noise. For the first time in years, I've been able to slow down and actually hear myself think."

She looked up, the smile growing a little. "And music. I've been working on music again. Not the stuff I was told to make, but things I want to make. I set up a little studio at home. And recently, I got to go out to Long Pond and work with Aaron Dessner."

The interviewer perked up at that. "Long Pond Studios? That's amazing. So you've been collaborating?"

Leia nodded, her eyes lighting up in a way they hadn't before. "Yeah. Aaron is... incredible. Like, one of those people who just gets it. He's been helping me figure out what my sound even is now - because, let's be honest, I'm not the same girl I was two years ago. I don't want to be."

There was a pause. Then, with a small tilt of her head, the interviewer ventured, "Speaking of Long Pond... I have to ask — Taylor Swift recorded folklore there. You and Taylor used to be... very close."

Leia's smile faltered, but she didn't look away.

"Yeah," she said softly, her fingers tracing an invisible line on her knee. "We were."

The room felt still, as if even the rain outside had quieted to hear her answer.

"So folklore?" She gave a wistful smile. "It's beautiful. Really. I listened to it alone in my room the night it came out, and I just -" her voice caught for a moment, but she recovered, "I cried. Not just because of her music, but because I could hear so much of what I wish I could say to her in those songs. It's an incredible piece of work. Honest, raw, vulnerable - everything I've always loved about her."

Silence stretched between them again, but this time it felt softer, less sharp.

The interviewer cleared her throat gently. 

"I know this might be a little sensitive, but since we mentioned folklore... Taylor's been really open this year, especially with her documentary, Miss Americana. She talked about being bisexual, about her own struggles. I know you've always been a huge figure for the LGBT community. Do you ever think about how much has changed since you were first outed? Since those pictures leaked in 2016?"

Leia let out a quiet laugh. It wasn't bitter, but tinged with something complicated. She leaned back against the couch, exhaling slowly.

"Oh, God. Yeah," she said, running a hand over her face. "It's wild to think about now. I mean, people think they know that story but what they don't know is that Dylan was behind that, too. He leaked them. I didn't even get to come out on my own terms. That moment, something that should have been mine, was ripped away from me and turned into a headline."

She paused, eyes flicking to the window again before turning back to the woman, her voice softening.

"So when I saw Taylor come out on her own terms in Miss Americana... I was just so proud of her. Like, truly. Because I know what it's like when someone takes that power from you. I'm glad she got to own her story. No one should have that choice stolen."

Shawna nodded, visibly moved, and let the silence sit for a beat before asking, "With everything you've been through, do you ever regret stepping into this industry? Into the spotlight?"

Leia tilted her head, thinking for a moment, her fingers absently toying with the silver star charm around her neck.

"Sometimes," she admitted, her voice quiet but honest. "I mean... it's only human, right? To wonder what life would've been like if I hadn't signed that first deal, if I'd stayed home and lived a quiet life. I'd probably be healthier, sure. Maybe happier, I don't know."

She smiled, but this one had a trace of real warmth behind it.

"But then I think about what this life has given me. I've been able to put my sister through college. I've been able to inspire kids who didn't think they'd ever see someone like them on a stage. I've met people who told me that my music kept them alive when nothing else could. And honestly? That's all I ever wanted. To make something that mattered to someone. So no, I wouldn't give it up. Even with all the pain. I wouldn't trade this for anything."

The interviewer smiled softly. "That's beautiful, Leia. I think a lot of people will be really moved to hear that."

Leia gave a small, bashful shrug, as if she didn't quite know how to take the compliment.

"So," the interviewer said gently, "what's next for you? I think this interview is going to surprise a lot of people. No one really even knew you'd been in rehab - or that you were working on music again."

Leia grinned at that, a spark of mischief lighting her features for the first time. "Yeah, well... I've got a really good team. They've worked their asses off to keep my privacy intact this time, and I'm really grateful for that. I needed space to fall apart without the cameras in my face."

She leaned forward a little, elbows resting on her knees, her smile softening.

"But what's next?" she echoed thoughtfully. "Honestly? Healing. Continuing to fix the relationships I broke. Being a sister, a friend. And music - always music. I've got some songs I'm really proud of. Songs that tell the truth. And I think... I think when people hear them, they'll understand the last few years a lot better."

She glanced up, her eyes clearer now, her voice steadier.

"I'm not interested in playing a part anymore. I want to be real, even if it's messy. Especially if it's messy."

The interviewer smiled, watching her for a moment, and then clicked off the recorder.

"Well," she said softly, "thank you for being real with me today. I think a lot of people are going to see a side of you they've never seen before."

Leia laughed gently, standing up and stretching her arms above her head as if shaking off the weight of everything she'd just said.

"Good," she said. "It's about time."

_____

LEIA HUDSON TELLS ALL: POP STAR OPENS UP ABOUT ADDICTION, BLACKMAIL, AND HER SECRET REHAB STAY

"If I'd waited to be 'bad enough' to ask for help, I don't think I'd be here."

By Shawna Richmond for TIME | August 24 2020

For months, Leia Hudson has been MIA. The once-unstoppable pop sensation all but vanished from the public eye last year after an explosive court case that left the world and music industry reeling. Rumours have swirled since then - has she been working on new music? Was she secretly pregnant? Taking a lengthy mental health break?

Now the singer is finally breaking her silence and reclaiming her own voice.

Speaking from a private wellness retreat in upstate New York, Hudson revealed that she has spent much of the past year in and out of rehab for cocaine addiction, a struggle that first took hold during her relationship with Dylan Redcrown, the former musician who was convicted last year on multiple criminal charges.

"I was done," Hudson admitted. "I didn't think I was going to make it to Christmas."

Hudson's relationship with Redcrown, once perceived by the media as an edgy rockstar romance, was far from what it seemed.

Back in court last year, Hudson confirmed long-standing speculation that her relationship with Redcrown was not entirely voluntary. She revealed that he blackmailed her into staying with him for publicity, threatening to release private images of her younger sister if she ever tried to leave.

In addition to this coercion, Hudson also shared that Redcrown was the person who introduced her to drugs - first in 2016, and then again in 2019, which ultimately led to her addiction.

"People assume addiction always looks the same. But for me, it wasn't about partying or self-destruction - it was about survival," she explained.

Hudson entered a private rehabilitation center the day after Redcrown's sentencing in August 2019. While she successfully completed treatment and returned home for the holidays, she relapsed shortly after the new year and checked back in for a second stay in early February 2020.

"I thought I could fix it quickly," she said. "I thought if I just got myself together for a few weeks, I'd be fine. But addiction doesn't work that way."

Then, as the COVID-19 pandemic took hold and forced the world into isolation, Hudson found herself struggling again. By June, she had relapsed a second time and voluntarily returned to rehab.

"When COVID hit, I was suddenly alone with my thoughts, with no distractions. No touring, no traveling, nothing to keep me from spiraling. And I realised then that I still wasn't okay."

Now, three months sober, Hudson says she is more committed than ever to her recovery and to speaking openly about addiction, particularly in light of the pandemic's effect on mental health and substance abuse.

"So many people have been struggling this past year. It's important to say that you don't have to wait until things get 'bad enough' to ask for help. If I had waited any longer, I don't think I'd be here."

In her time away from the industry, Hudson has been quietly working on music. Not for the charts, not for a label deadline, but because she wants to.

She has spent the last few months writing at Long Pond Studios, collaborating with Aaron Dessner, known for his work on Taylor Swift's folklore. The process, she says, has been transformative.

Dessner, known for his deeply introspective production style, has helped Hudson rediscover what she loves about music - something that had felt distant for years. What she's creating now, she says, is different from anything she has done before. It is raw, honest, and, for the first time in a long time, entirely hers.

Her return to Long Pond, however, also brings another name into focus: Taylor Swift.

Though the two haven't spoken since Hudson's departure from the spotlight, she acknowledged that Swift's 2020 documentary, Miss Americana, had a profound impact on her.

"I watched it the night it came out. And I cried. Not just because of the music, but because I could hear so much of what I wish I could say to her in those songs."

In the documentary, Swift publicly came out as bisexual, a moment that resonated deeply with Hudson, who was forcibly outed in 2016 after private photos of her kissing former Fifth Harmony singer Lauren Jauregui were leaked to the press.

"What happened to me was never my choice. Dylan leaked those photos. I didn't get to decide when or how I came out. Taylor did. And I'm proud of her for that. I know what it's like when someone takes that power away from you, so I'm glad she got to own her story."

Asked whether she thinks she and Swift will ever reconnect, Hudson hesitated.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I want to. But I also want to be the person she deserves to hear from. Someone healthy. Someone who's not still bleeding all over everyone she loves."

Hudson understands that coming forward with her story will open her up to scrutiny. She also knows the industry is not always kind to women who break their silence.

But for the first time, she isn't concerned with what people think.

"I know people will dissect every word of this interview. They'll analyze my face, my body, try to read between the lines. But I don't care anymore. I'm not interested in playing a part. I just want to be real. Even if it's messy. Especially if it's messy."

She also addressed the idea of whether she regrets entering the music industry, given the toll it has taken on her life.

"Of course, I wonder sometimes," she said. "It's human to think about what life could have been like if I'd stayed home, gone to college, lived a quieter life. Maybe I would have been healthier, sure. Maybe I would have been happier. I don't know."

"But then I think about everything I've gained. I've been able to put my sister through school. I've met people who told me that my music kept them going when nothing else could. And that's all I ever wanted. To make something that mattered to someone. And for that, I wouldn't trade this life for anything."

The question now is what comes next.

Will the industry welcome her back? Or has too much time passed?

Hudson doesn't know the answer. But for the first time in a long time, she's excited to find out.

________

December 2020

Leia stood at the edge of the frozen lake, her breath curling in the cold air. The wind bit at her exposed skin, but she barely felt it. Snow had settled across the shoreline, untouched except for the footprints she had left behind, leading back to the rented cabin.

Christmas lights flickered warmly through the windows behind her, casting a golden glow against the snow. Inside, Georgie and her parents were setting up for another movie night, debating the merits of watching Home Alone for the hundredth time. Niall was there too - having stepped out to grab some firewood. 

Leia had needed a moment alone.

She closed her eyes, letting the silence wrap around her. A year ago, she had been in this exact state - standing at the edge of a new year, wondering if she would make it to the next one.

And somehow, she had.

It had been a year of destruction and rebuilding. Of losing herself, of clawing her way back. A year of stepping into the wreckage Dylan had left behind, sweeping out the broken pieces, and figuring out who she was beyond the chaos. Almost a year ago, she had watched Miss Americana.

And now, she was standing here, looking out at the same frozen landscape, feeling... different. Not healed, not whole, but lighter.

Behind her, the cabin door opened with a creak.

"I knew I'd find you out here."

Leia turned. Georgie stood in the doorway, bundled up in a coat far too big for her, her hair stuffed messily under a beanie. 

"You gonna come inside, or are you planning to freeze to death for dramatic effect?"

Leia let out a soft laugh, turning back to the lake. "Wouldn't be a bad way to go. Very poetic."

Georgie snorted. "Yeah, well, I'd still drag your ass inside and make you watch Home Alone with us. Niall's been looking forward to his first Hudson Christmas." She hesitated, then took a step forward, her boots crunching in the snow. "You okay?"

Leia nodded. Then shook her head. "I don't know. I think so."

Georgie was quiet for a moment. "It's been a hell of a year."

Leia exhaled. "Yeah."

She thought of everything that had happened since August 2019. The courtroom. The rehab stays. The nights she didn't think she would survive. The relapses. The slow, painful rebuilding of trust.

And then, Taylor.

Her voice, her face on the screen, saying the words Leia had waited years to hear.

Leia had spent months trying to figure out why it still hurt. Why she couldn't just be happy for her. Why every time she thought about it, there was still this ache lodged deep in her ribs. It wasn't about who Taylor was with now - Taylor was happy with Joe, still. Leia didn't begrudge her for moving on. Hell, Leia had barely been a person when she left her.

It wasn't about the announcement itself, either.

It was that Leia had spent three years waiting for Taylor to love her out loud.

And it just seemed like Taylor had never been afraid of who she was. She had only been afraid of Leia.

Leia wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shake off the thought.

"Leia," Georgie said carefully, watching her with the kind of concern that made Leia feel fragile. "Have you heard from her?"

She knew who she meant.

Leia shook her head. "No."

The last time they had spoken was the night Dylan had gotten arrested. The night Taylor had been drunk and called her up, pouring her heart out down the phone.

Leia had waited for her to reach out since - hoping the news that Leia was out of rehab would convince her to mend the bridges that they'd both burned.

But Taylor never had.

"She did the interview with Zane Lowe the other day," Georgie said after a long pause. "Mentioned folklore and evermore. Said a lot of it was about things she never got closure on."

Leia inhaled sharply. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Leia looked down at the snow-covered ground. "Do you think she meant me?"

Georgie was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. "I don't know, Lee."

Leia bit her lip. It was stupid, wasn't it? To still wonder, to still hope? 

Yet, she'd spent nights dissecting the folklore album, and now evermore too. Looking for little traces in the songs that reminded her that they had been real, that Joe wasn't the only love of Taylor's life. She pictured the songs that were maybe about her, flinched about the lines that had been so cold and cutting that she knew they had to be about her, and cried over the ones that she knew were too.

And even through that all - Taylor had made it clear that she'd moved on, and that she was with Joe now.

Leia was still standing here, in the cold, trying to figure out how to let go. Still stuck in the same place.

Georgie nudged her shoulder. 

"You wanna go inside? It's freezing."

Leia exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. Okay."

They turned, trudging back toward the cabin, the sound of their boots crunching in the snow the only thing breaking the silence.

Before they reached the steps, Leia's phone buzzed in her pocket.

She hesitated. Pulled it out.

Hey. Hope you're doing well. 

Leia stopped breathing.

Can we talk?

Georgie paused beside her. "Lee?"

Leia's heart pounded. 

She didn't need more to know exactly who it was from. Didn't need to see the contact ID.

The wind howled through the trees, sending a shiver down her spine.

Taylor.