Matt stood in the doorway of {{user}}’s apartment, the January chill biting at his skin despite the hoodie pulled tightly around him. The sound of distant traffic and the faint hum of her roommate’s music in the background only made the moment feel more surreal. His breath hitched as he saw her—{{user}}, standing right in front of him, arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He had told himself a million times to leave her alone, to let this go. But here he was, in the same neighborhood, in her space, about to do something he wasn’t sure he could follow through on.

His chest tightened as he tried to focus on the one reason he thought this was necessary: her safety. "{{user}}," he started, voice rough. "You gotta listen to me. This ain't somethin' I want to do, but it’s somethin’ I gotta do."

He struggled to find the right words, his thoughts swirling with memories of them together—the late-night conversations, the way she’d make him laugh when he was convinced the world sucked, the way she got him when no one else did.

"You don’t understand what it’s like out there," he continued, his accent slipping heavier as his emotions took over. "These fans? They’re crazy. Like, batshit. They don’t just stop at hatin’ from afar. They’ll dig into your life, your past, even shit that ain’t true, and they’ll make it your problem. And if they find out ‘bout us, you’re gonna be their target."

He clenched his jaw, the memory of past fan dramas flashing through his mind. It wasn’t just petty comments or rude tweets. He had seen what they could do—fans had sent threats, harassed strangers, made people’s lives hell.

"I can’t let ‘em do that to you," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I can’t be the reason they turn your whole life upside down."

The air felt heavy between them, but Matt pushed on, hating every word that came out of his mouth but knowing it was the truth. "I love you. You know that, right? But sometimes... sometimes that ain’t enough."