CHAPTER 31

My foes and friends watch my reign end

I don't know how it could've ended this way

~ Taylor Swift, Castles Crumbling (feat. Hayley Williams)(Taylor's Version)

HPOV

IF I CAN'T HAVE LOVE I WANT POWER

Something about her was off. After watching the first string of shows, watching her immediately become a well-oiled machine of performing three-and-a-half hours five nights a week, it was easy to spot the change in her demeanor.

I had watched the same meeting seven times before. Watched her happily go set by set, outfit by outfit,, and finalize every piece of the ever-changing show that would go on tonight. This afternoon, though, she was tense. Easily distracted. Grumpy.

"We're expecting a good amount of rain to start around five," one of the crew offered up. "Conditions are favorable for things to ramp up. If there's any lightning we're going to have to postpone."

Bella simply nodded. Shutting her laptop with a snap and breezing out of the room with a grumbled, "Fucking lightning," as she walked by.

Edward followed her immediately. I stood, leaning against the far wall beside Aiden. Who didn't look nearly confused as I did. No one in the room looked as bewildered at her as I did.

"It's the anniversary," Aiden said quietly.

I frowned. Their wedding anniversary was New Year's Day.

Aiden sighed, nodding his head toward the door. I followed, quietly walking down the hall beside him until he started speaking.

"The anniversary of the day she was arrested."

I stumbled over my own two feet. Stupid connection for me not to make.

"It took me a long time to make the connection too," Aiden said kindly, walking along with his hands in his pockets as we wandered through the halls. "I knew Ma had been… incarcerated from a pretty young age. It's not something she's ever hidden from me. But it wasn't until I was probably thirteen that I realized the reason she always seemed off every year on this specific day was because it was the anniversary. Dad had to tell me."

"It's easy to forget," I admitted. "That she actually lived through some of that. That it wasn't just a news story. It was her life."

Aiden nodded. "Yeah."

As messed up as it was, it was true. Something Bella had talked to me about before, the way people didn't often see her as an actual person.

Images of footage I had been scoping through for the documentary flashed in my mind of her being led into a courtroom day after day, of paparazzi swarming her as she left the church on her way to bury her husband.

"Ever since Dad told me about it, I made it my life's mission to make her smile at least once on this day every year."

"That's sweet."

"My sophomore year of college I invited her down for lunch at my frat house for the afternoon. Told some of the guys we had to be on our best behavior for her, that she was having a bad day. Ever since then, they always try to do the same thing."

It was very obvious Bella was popular amongst the younger generation of her family. And their friends. A few of them were actually her employees. And the rest were as fiercely protective of her as her son.

It was an interesting dynamic. An endearing one, all of these young kids backing her not because of her status or talent, but because she was their friend's mom. Because she sent them care packages at school or offered them a couch to sleep on when they needed it.

"Which is why," he summarized, opening one of the side doors of the stadium "I had to call in reinforcements."

"Rain show!" Someone shouted as they walked through the door. Followed by a dozen others, all around Aiden's age, all likely his fraternity brothers and some of his and his wife's friends.

It was a few hours later that I was in a dressing room, a few dancers and a lot of friends gathered around and chatting. The show had, in fact, been postponed. It was about seven and while the opener should have been on at the moment, the stadium had been evacuated and about seventy thousand people were huddled in the interior of the place while we waited out the storm.

Bella Cullen did not cancel. She didn't reschedule if there was the possibility of safely performing. It would likely be a good three or four hours late, and she would face quite the fee from the city for going past the sound curfew, but she shrugged it off.

Her mood had started to slowly improve. She very obviously knew what her son did every year, always trying to make her smile. And I had seen her begrudgingly let a few slip as she talked with the group of friends who were excitedly ready to dance in the rain for three hours.

The lightning had cleared. It was nearly ten, but the show would be starting in about half an hour. Bella was in her dressing room getting ready and I had followed the party to one of the areas the dancers got ready. Delilah and a few of the other dancers were happy to entertain the group.

"What is it about a rain show?" I finally asked. They all seemed very invested in being here for this particular show.

I could see why it would be fun, in theory. Dancing in the rain with your friends at a concert could be a memorable moment, but also an excellent way to catch a cold.

Nobody had left, though. As far as I knew, the stadium had quickly filled back up as soon as the all clear was given and people were allowed to return to their seats.

"I don't know," Serena said wistfully. "Some shows just seem… epic. Like it's going to be a show you tell your grandkids you got to be at, you know?"

"Yeah," one of the guys agreed. "My mom was at the first reputation tour show in Chicago. She tells the story to absolutely anybody who will listen."

Olivia's eyes widened. "No fucking way. That would have been an insane show."

"It was," Edward's voice floated from the hall as he made his way in. He gave the group a kind smile and nod of appreciation, probably for making his wife smile on a day she didn't want to. Their commitment to her is also probably why he pulled his phone out of his pocket and slid it across the table everyone was gathered around.

I watched, my own mouth probably popping open along with everyone else's, as the video showed the opening of that show. The first show she did after spending a year on trial, after running away for years after to try and heal.

And there she was, in the middle of a sold out stadium with those giant stage screens parting for her.

I shook my head, eyes going from the phone to the people around me.

I knew this documentary was a big deal. A really fucking big deal. But I still had moments when it shocked me to my core. Bella Cullen was a woman who had lived hundreds of lives in one, she had more talent in her pinky finger than most people had in their whole body, and being the one chosen to help her finally, finally, tell her story was unreal.

Just as unreal as it was hours later, standing in the pouring rain as I watched her sit down at her piano and smile out at the crowd.

"You know I… I'm trying this new thing where I'm really, brutally honest with you guys," she said, fingers twinkling across the keys. "And today, historically, has always been a pretty shitty day for me. It's the, well, it's the day that I walked into a police precinct and didn't leave it again for… a long time. So I thought it might be cathartic to sing the first song I wrote after that whole ordeal with you guys if that's alright."

Once I had an empire in a golden age

I was held up so high, I used to be great

They used to cheer when they saw my face

Now, I fear I have fallen from grace

–Love|Power–

Bella sat across from me, a usual position for us these days. It was one of her rare days off, a day she was supposed to be using to rest and recuperate. She had to tell four different people to mind your own fucking business when they told her she should be relaxing and not sitting down with me.

I was one of the four.

Because the show she put on every night… was magical. She had every single person in the stadium in the palm of her hand for three and a half hours, night after night. She never let it show, just how draining it was to do what she did. Not to me or any of the crew, at least. If I knew anything about the woman after our time together, I could confidently say Edward was probably the only one who ever saw that vulnerable side of her.

This was a conversation she had been postponing since we started. One she kept telling me she needed to wrap her head around first. Arguably one of the most important conversations we would have.

Bella sighed, taking a sip of the tea that Kate left on the table for her and curling her legs up underneath her. She wore a simple enough outfit, leggings and a cardigan. Her hair was down, jagged but natural curls falling down her shoulders.

"During my trial, one of the biggest pieces of evidence against me they had was a list. Names, some underlined in red, which they decided meant it was my hit list, so to speak," she sighed. "Looking back, it's kind of offensive, really. That they thought I was stupid enough to write down a list of people I wanted dead. Especially when I've been keeping an extensive mental list of people who have fucked me over since I was seventeen."

The question popped out of my mouth before I could think it through. "Why?"

"Because it didn't take me long to realize I would need it one day."

My throat dried out. The documentary was about her; her life and career, but she had also been very honest that this was where it was headed. That this was why she was doing it.

"I should have known," she said quietly. "Should have expected Lawrence to turn on me eventually."

"Why?" I repeated.

Bella gave me a soft, sad smile. "Because he was the first name I ever added to the list."

My mouth opened and closed rather unprofessionally as I searched for another question without repeating Why? For the third time.

She took pity on me and kept going without any prompting. "It was when we were shooting the first Tainted movie. He kept telling everyone else to stand back while pulling me closer for a stunt. Something with fire. I got to run through a burning forest while the rest of the crew stood a safe distance away.

"I did it with a smile on my face, because that's what you're supposed to do. But I knew, even back then, that it was just the first sign of how dangerous of an industry I had stumbled into."

Bella took a deep breath, eyes floating to the window to our left. We were in their new penthouse, the one just a short drive away from the stadium.

"That wasn't…it wasn't the only time Lawrence showed me who he was. But I thought he was different. I should have known better."

"You were seventeen," I told her quietly.

She shrugged. "But I knew. Even in the early days of my career, I knew I was playing a dangerous game. And needed… I don't love the word evidence. For obvious reasons. But I needed proof. Confirmation. If I was ever going to make a change, I needed grounds for it."

"So you made your mental list."

Bella smiled at me. "I made my list. I never knew what I would do with it. If I would ever be able to do anything with it. Up until seven months ago, I still wasn't sure. Because Hollywood has a way of sucking you in. Making you think you need it more than it needs you. I've done little things, made little changes when I could, but it's not enough. As fucked up as it is, we can thank Lawrence for any good that comes of this.

"I guess…I needed that push. That one last realization that if I can't have love, I want power. If everyone is going to turn on me in the blink of an eye no matter what, the least I can do is drag the rest of those fuckers down with me."

Bella shot me a smirk. A wickedly devious smirk of a seventeen year old girl finally getting her revenge as she spent the remainder of the day detailing it all. Every underhanded deal she knew about, every disgusting thing a casting director or manager had ever said to her, decades worth of secrets and lies that would light the entirety of Hollywood on fire.

–Love|Power–

By now, the whole world knew the story. Had seen headlines for the past thirty years about the woman who sat on trial for murder, the one with more Academy Awards than she knew what to do with and more hate and love thrown at her on a daily basis than any single person had a right to.

Everyone in the world knew her. Flip flopped back and forth whether they loved or hated her. Had songs that, even if they said they didn't like her music, would know the lyrics immediately if it came on the radio.

But soon, hopefully, they would know her. Understand her on a deeper level. Maybe respect her a fraction of the amount they should have the last few decades.

It was my last day with the Cullen family. There were still two weeks left in her Chicago residency, but we were now on a strict time crunch to get the documentary edited and finalized.

Bella had very kindly asked all of the remaining crew in the city over for dinner with her family for the evening. One of her rare free evenings these days.

We were in her house outside of the city, her penthouse not big enough to fit everyone who showed up for dinner.

"There's one thing I've been dying to ask everyone," I admitted during a rare lull in the conversation.

"Jesus Christ what could you have possibly held back?" Bella asked, earning a chuckle from those around her.

I rolled my lips together. "I mostly just wanted to know what everyone's favorite song of yours was."

I had no idea the argument that simple question would cause. It was a touchy subject amongst the family, it seemed. Because everyone firmly believed their favorite was the best. But my eyes met Bella's across the table as her family discussed her life's work, and she sent me a wink I would never forget.

A/N: I think this is the last documentary chapter. And I think there are probably 4 chapters left of this. I don't quite know what I'll do with myself when we're done with these two, because I love them with my whole heart.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this one and I'll see ya next time!

Lyrics in the middle of the chapter are from Castles Crumbling by Taylor Swift.