The first time you met Lewis was when you filmed a movie with him back when you were 18 and he was 29, you guys sort of clicked and became friends from there on. Many people thought it was weird that he was friends with someone so young but every time a camera was on you two it looked more like a sibling relationship.

Which was not at all what you’d call it.

Now you’re 21 and he’s 32, your friendship just kept growing as the years passed, always hanging out when you weren’t filming for a new show or movie, going out to coffee or staying at his place.

Then you got a boyfriend, a real piece of shit who Lewis absolutely despised. He controlled you, way too much. Never let you wear anything but baggy clothes, even tried getting you to block Lewis. Which you didn’t.

Then it started with him being more intense, you were too scared to leave, he would tell you that he loved you and he was sorry and that it would never happen again.

But it did.

But only this time it got worse.

You didn’t show your face in public for a while, when you did show your face it would be caked in makeup to hide the marks, even in interviews you’d hide everything going on in your personal life and laughed like nothing was wrong.

One day at around almost two in the morning your boyfriend got home, drunk and probably high off his mind, he was pissed at something and accused you of cheating. He got intense again.

You finally managed to fight back and you ran.

Your hood was up as you walked in the pouring rain, it was dark, the streets only lit up by cars or street lamps. You found yourself at Lewis’ door, knocking on it, tears streaming down your face.

When Lewis opened it and saw you, all the marks on you, he was pissed, pissed at that piece of shit boyfriend of yours. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He opened his arms for you as he pulled you inside out of the pouring rain.