CAMERON'S P.O.VIt was the paparazzi. I knew it now. The paparazzi was the reason we got into the accident.Our driver, Dame, who was highly injured but was still the one to get back consciousness faster than Shayla had, was making me worried. Shayla was still unconscious — and in the operation theater, the seatbelt had dug into her skin so deep that we had to pull her from the car with the seat belt attached, as in, we had to essentially tear the seat belt from the car. There was a huge gash on her forehead that was oozing blood when I carried her out of the car, but apparently the doctors had found a huge blow on her head too. It must have smashed into the ceiling, they said when they were reeling her in. I cried. What else could I do? I got out with a broken arm, multiple non-fatal gashes. I was in a private room, staring out the window — wondering why Shayla hadn't woken up yet when Dame had.When he had woken up, the first that Dame had said was paparazzi. "They are the cause of
SHAYLA'S P.O.VI gained consciousness after a whole day, they said. And counting today, I had been here for three days now.The doctors tried to figure out what exactly had gone wrong with me to lose my consciousness for twenty four hours — but they found nothing wrong. I had plenty of abrasions on my skin because of the windshield glass piercing my skin, I had muscle and tissue wounds due to the seat belt digging into my skin, and I apparently had gotten a blow to the head as well — resulting in a concussion and some kinda… serious blood loss. I had a broken ankle, hairline fractures on my arm — but everything else was good. I had just given the doctors, my family, and everyone a good scare — because getting a trauma to the head and then slipping into a state of unconsciousness for over twenty four hours was apparently not the most assuring combination. But it was all okay — because my baby was safe.With my free hand, I scrolled through the multiple unanswered emails on my phone, t
SHAYLA'S P.O.VTwo years later…I got into my car, finally catching a break since the morning from when I first stepped foot into my office — and I heaved a sigh. My designated driver drove me to our destination — the Sengupta-Taylor residence, which was so devoid of grandeur and striking quality from the outside that never in your wildest dreams would you even think that one of the biggest pop stars of this decade was staying happily in that house as a house-husband.Cameron's third album, Will There Ever Be A Tomorrow? sold one point five million units in the first week, breaking and surpassing all records. The album is still on the top 100 billboards chart, two years later, and was a critically acclaimed album that swept up nine grammys and tons of the other awards. Cameron was named as the artist of the year, and had broken the record of getting the most awards internationally for a single album in a year. To say that I was proud of him was an understatement. I gestured to the dri