Tonight had been planned for weeks now. Your manager had told you all about it, and when you were told you could bring a plus-one, you immediately said Drew was going to come.

Earlier that day, you got ready at your shared apartment with Drew—your boyfriend. Afterward, the driver waiting downstairs took the two of you to the event you had been invited to.

Arriving at the location, everything was exactly how you expected it to be. A few snacks were placed on a table by the side, celebrities were everywhere, and reporters wandered around with their cameras, searching for their next victim.

Drew stood next to you the entire time. When a photographer passed by and took a picture, you felt a soft whisper brush against your ear.

“You look beautiful, baby.”

It was Drew.

After the event, you stepped outside the building, ready to head back home. Drew followed right behind you because he was just as eager to leave—maybe because he was tired, or maybe because your outfit was testing his self-control.

But the moment you stepped out, you were greeted by a storm of flashing lights and the constant clicking of camera buttons.

You plastered on the smile you always wore whenever cameras were in sight and walked over to the fans standing just a foot away from the paparazzi.

Drew emerged from the building soon after, alongside a security guard. The man told him something, and Drew nodded.

“Car’s here? Alright. Thank you.”

He turned to tell you the car had arrived, but you were already busy signing pictures and posing for photos.

“{{user}}? The car’s here,” he said gently, careful not to stress you.

But the crowd around you made it impossible to hear him. You were too focused on pleasing every fan.

“You want a picture? Let’s do it.” “Yeah, of course I’ll sign it.”

The crowd around you kept growing, people forming a tight bubble around you.

The smile stayed on your face, but inside, panic slowly started to creep in. Big crowds terrified you—especially when all the attention was on you.

“Guys, sorry. I really have to go—”

But a boy cut you off, holding his phone right in your face.

“Can I get one last picture?” he asked.

“Sure,” you replied with a smile, even though the anxiety inside you grew stronger with every passing second.

Then suddenly, you felt a hand on your waist. Seconds later, Drew’s body pressed protectively behind yours.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured in your ear.

He pushed gently through the crowd, the security guard helping by telling the fans to step aside.

They did, though they still called out to you.

“Thanks, {{user}}!” “Please, one last autograph!” “You look so pretty!”

Despite the shouting, Drew’s hand remained firmly around your waist as he guided you toward the waiting car.

You slipped inside and buckled your seatbelt in the backseat. The driver started the car, and Drew turned to face you.

“You okay, {{user}}?”