Not Another Player

31.Showdown

Adore You // Harry Styles

The entire team is assembled in the courtroom behind Char and her attorney. Clinton, Zack, Brianna and the entire Citizen One band plus their road crew fill the seats. Each one of them is listed as a potential witness as of 8 AM this morning. Apparently, the judge on this trial is not a Curt fan after his showboating yesterday and approved the list immediately.

Behind us, the courtroom doors swing open as someone with heavy footsteps enters drawing our attention. Our heads twist to look as if choreographed, one smooth motion. I don't know what anyone else is thinking, but as soon as I see it register on Curt's face just who it is waiting for him in this courtroom, I realize Ryan knew what he was talking about. The color drains from Curt's face as he must know what we're all doing here. Ready to take him down. Ready to watch him burn.

All eyes remain trained on Curt as he visibly hitches in his steps. It's only a split second before he recovers, the smug demeanor he walked in with falling into place once again. But I know what I saw.

He may have just shit his pants. I hope he did.

Curt takes his place at the plaintiff's table shoulder to shoulder with his attorney, some blond bombshell that's supposed to prove he sees women as equals but it's really a smoke screen to cover his misogyny. The woman leans closer to him, whispering whatever lame strategy she's come up with at the last minute. I don't envy the ass kicking she's about to take but I can't truly find any empathy. This professional woman took him as a client. That doesn't say much about her skills in discernment. Someone with such a terrible judge of character is either an ambulance chaser or she graduated law school last in her class.

I take a deep breath and send all my positive thoughts toward Char, knowing that sitting in the same room with Curt can't be easy. I saw the evidence of how hard this actually is on her last night. Char clung to me. She needed my physical comfort in a way I've never seen before. I was happy to give it. I was glad I'd jumped on a plane to get to her and leave my superficial life for something much more significant. Char's my world now. She's all that matters.

My eyes are locked on her, watching as she sits perfectly still, not even the slightest sign of nerves even though she's got to be feeling them. Her red hair, back in the natural curls I fell for on day one, spills down her back. She's wearing a long flowing white lace dress paired with a brown corduroy jacket. It meshes her love of comfort with the look of a polished and professional music executive, a look I'm quickly growing fond of.

Although I wasn't here yesterday to hear whatever lies he spewed, I was present to see the carnage left in Curt's wake after he took the stand. Char gave me a cursory overview, not wanting to talk in verbatims with me after being emotionally beat up. I just held her, loved her, and silently plotted my revenge.

I didn't hold back in my text thread late last night to Clinton and the guys after abandoning her to that asshole, forcing her to face him on her own. I shake my head as I look back at the texts we sent back and forth late into the night. My thumb scrolls back to my first statement to the group, proud of myself for letting them have it.

Me: If you ever make her go into the fire alone like that again I will contact every single media outlet on Earth and tell them all the dirty secrets I have on all of you. FOR FREE. I've played enough of your TMZ style crazy 8's to have a shit ton of intel to do it. Fuck you for leaving her all alone in this and keeping me in the dark.

Ryan: Bro, you know we had to. Curt's ego showed up and ate him for breakfast. And that's a low blow to use our crazy 8's against us.

Sean: That's the only way to prove what an ass Curt is, give him enough rope to hang himself. Which he DID. AND The first rule of crazy 8's is what happens there, stays there.