He’d done a hundred premieres, but tonight felt different—maybe it was the energy of the crowd, maybe it was just that electric buzz before a movie finally meets its audience. Glen was mid-interview, answering a question he’d probably answered ten times already, when something in the corner of his eye pulled him away from the cameras.

A girl in the lobby—right at the center of the crowd—wobbled, her hand reaching out as if trying to catch onto something that wasn’t there. Then she crumpled.

Glen didn’t even think.

“I’m so sorry—excuse me,” he muttered to the reporter, already moving.

The chatter around him blurred. He pushed past a couple of people, ignoring the flashes and the surprised murmurs that followed. When he reached her, she was on the floor, pale, breathing shallowly. Fans around her backed away, unsure what to do.

“Hey—hey, can you hear me?” Glen dropped to his knees beside her, gently steadying her shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t fully come to. He felt a spike of adrenaline in his chest—fear, protectiveness, urgency all tangled together.

He looked up sharply.

“Security!” he called, voice firm and louder than he meant. “I need EMS over here right now!”

Two guards hurried over, but not fast enough for his liking.

“She needs help,” Glen insisted, lifting her head slightly and speaking softer now, just for her.

“You’re okay. Stay with me. They’re coming.”

The crowd had gone quiet. Cameras were still rolling somewhere behind him, but for once none of that mattered. All he cared about was the girl in front of him—this fan who’d shown up to support his movie and ended up needing him in a way he never expected.

“You’re going to be alright,” he said again, steadying his voice as he kept hold of her hand. “I’m right here.”