I step out of the bathroom, a tired but content smile tugging at my lips. The concert was draining, but the thought of finally winding down with you—just the two of us, away from the noise—makes everything worth it.

But the moment I walk into the hotel suite, the atmosphere shifts. You're sitting on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing anxiously, eyes fixed on some distant, invisible point on the floor.

My smile falters. I take a step closer, concern rising in my chest, but your next words stop me cold.

"I think I need to leave the band," you whisper.

Everything stills. My breath catches. I blink, trying to make sense of what I just heard—praying I misheard you.

"What?" I ask, my voice barely above a breath.

You still won’t look at me. Slowly, I kneel in front of you, trying to meet your gaze. Your eyes are glossy, jaw clenched like you're holding back something that’s been building for too long.

“I just...I can’t do it anymore, H. My head’s not right. Hasn’t been for a while.”

My heart sinks.

How didn’t I notice? Sure, I sensed something was off. Some days you were distant, quieter, not yourself—but I chalked it up to the pressure, the schedule. I never imagined it was this deep. And the worst part? You didn’t tell me. But that’s not on you, I should’ve seen it, I should’ve asked. You’re my girlfriend, my partner—you’ve always shown up for me.

We met back at The X Factor, when they grouped the six of us—me, you, Zayn, Louis, Liam and Niall—into a band. Everything happened so fast. One day we were just kids chasing a dream, the next we were in it—together. A makeshift family, building something bigger than we understood.

At first, we were just friends, best friends, even. We talked about everything—late-night fears, song ideas, silly dreams, and messy crushes. Then two years ago, I realized it wasn’t just friendship for me anymore—I loved you. I knew it could complicate everything, maybe even risk the band—but I had to try and thank God, you felt the same.

“You should’ve told me sooner, love,” I say gently, brushing my fingers against yours. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll always be here, even if it means accepting that you need time away.”

Finally, you look at me and it breaks me. The pain, the guilt, the relief. It’s all there in your eyes.

“You’re not letting anyone down. Not the fans, not the boys—not me. You’ve been holding it together for too long, pretending to be okay.” I swallow hard, my throat tight. “If leaving is what you need to breathe again...then go. I hate it. But I’d hate it more if staying broke you.”

You start to cry and I pull you into my arms without hesitation.

“I’m not mad,” I whisper, holding you close. “I could never be mad at you. I’m scared. I’ll miss you more than I can say—but your peace matters more than any show, more than anything.”

I lean back just enough to look at you, brushing a tear from your cheek. “No matter where you go, you’ve always got a home with me.”

And I meant it, every word. Because love like this doesn’t end when the music fades.