Calum:
It was late at night on the New York streets. Calum and I had taken the day off to celebrate our anniversary.
"You ready to go back to the hotel?" he asked, glancing at his watch. It was around 10 at night.
I nodded tiredly, drained of energy after such a long day.
He grabbed my hand and led me out of the restaurant onto the crowded street.
"Luke said there's a bunch of fans waiting outside the hotel," he whispered.
"Great," I mumbled sarcastically.
We walked down a few blocks before spotting our hotel and the massive mob around it.
"How do we get through?" I asked.
"Just shove," he said.
It wasn't as simple as he made it sound. Leading me through the crowd of screaming girls, Calum kept his calm. And I do too, for the most part, until a girl grabbed me in an attempt to reach Calum and I tripped, falling backwards with a thud. A wave of pain rippled through me.
"(Y/N)!" Calum yelled. He was quick to get to me, pushing people out of the way to help me off the ground.
Within seconds his arms were tightly knitted around my waist and he was dragging me through the crowd and into the hotel.
Once inside he said nothing, quickly striving to get us up into our hotel room.
Once safely inside, he held me tightly.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I smiled weakly. "My head just hurts a little."
"Come on," he beamed, running his hands up my arms, "let's go take a shower and get you to bed."
Ashton:
He was sick, terribly sick.
And while he was a mess, with a fever and clogged head, he still joined me for lunch one day.
"Babe, are you sure you'll be alright?" I asked Ashton.
"I'm sure," he sniffled.
I rubbed his back softly as we entered the diner.
By the time we left, there was a large crowd outside.
Ashton was beginning to feel very light headed, and the less people that were surrounding him and screaming, the better.
I looped my arm around his, guiding him through the crowd as his breaths rapidly picked up pace.
"You're fine," I whispered, shoving through the girls. "You're fine."
His grip on me tightened and his eyes fluttered shut, just allowing me to drag him through.
People parted enough for us to get through but didn't go very far once we stood at the edge of the sidewalk, still yelling for him and crowding around us.
"He's not feeling well," I told a small group of the girls.
The word quickly spread on as I hailed a taxi.
We quickly got in and were taken back to our apartment where I forced Ashton to rest and didn't let him out of bed until he felt better.
Luke:
"Are you gonna be okay?" Luke whispered.
I shook my head as my throat dried up.
"Shit," he muttered, running his hand through his hair.
"Alright, (Y/N), you're gonna have to do this. I know you don't want to, but I'll be right there. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."
After a very traumatic experience as a child, I was plagued with panic attacks and anxiety, making me a very introverted person in contrast to my outgoing boyfriend. And right now, I was having an attack, conveniently at the same time we were supposed to be exiting an airport where a large group of fans was waiting, ready to greet the boys.
Luke and I were in a family bathroom as I broke down. The boys waited patiently outside with our security guard.
"Come on," he whispered, grabbing my hand. "As long as you're with me you'll be safe."
I shakily grabbed his hand and let him guide me out of the room.
"Everything okay?" Ashton asked, placing a hand on my back.
Luke shook his head, "No, but we can't wait forever."
We walked up the stairs from the terminal into the visitor gate, where a couple hundred girls were waiting.
The screaming quickly started and our security guard forced them to clear a path for us to walk through. The other boys stopped to take pictures with a couple fans but Luke kept his word and just pushed through behind the security guard, keeping a tight grip on me. A few fans tried to pull him away but he never let go.
Michael:
Michael had anxiety. Very bad. He hated crowds and hated the screaming. He loved greeting his fans, but just hated when they mobbed him.
"Hey, you're gonna be alright," I whispered.
"No I'm not," he choked. "I can't do it."
"Michael, look at me. Yes you can. It's just your head. It's your mind playing tricks on you, alright? You can do this."
He nodded, not really agreeing but not arguing. He had just accepted that there was no avoiding this.
His hand gripped my hand tightly as his breaths grew rapidly in pace.
"You're fine, you're safe, you're with me," I whispered. The door from the hotel opened and we were flooded with screams and flashing lights to contrast the dark sky.
Michael tense but I continued to hold him close to, letting my body shield his fragile well-being.
I led him through the crowd, never letting my grip loosen.
