Paul was a wreck driving up to the arena for Charlotte's last show on the American leg of the tour. His palms were sweaty, and he couldn't stop reciting his speech in the rearview mirror. He wasn't going to lose this girl, not when he had fallen so hard for her. He knew she felt the same; he knew she cared for him as much as he cared for her. He figured it was Kyle, or their shit management that kept them from being together. "I love you," he spoke softly, switching on his blinker and peeling into the lane. Cars were speeding down the highway, honking at each other and Paul, but he didn't care. He needed to get there before it was too late. Nina sat on the phone with him, her voice haunting coming from his phone speakers. "Paul!" she shouted, fully gaining back his attention. "You need to be prepared for the worst. Even if she is in love with you, if her management is forcing her and Kyle back together, the two of you are done," she explained. A rush of anger surged through Paul's veins, his palm coming into contact with the steering wheel.
"God dammit! The one time I'm happy, its ruined by someone else," he spat venomously. "I am not losing her to him, Nina. I'm going to fight this." Nina sighed softly, running her fingers over her face. She felt for Paul, she truly did. But he wasn't thinking rationally at all. "Paul, I'm so sorry," was all she could say as he turned into the parking garage for the arena. "I'm here. I'll call you later," he mumbled, pressing the decline button. He ran his hands over his face, feeling fresh and hot tears burn behind his eyes. He hadn't been much of a religious person, so it was a bit of a shock when he found himself calling onto God. "I know I haven't been Christian material, but I can't lose her," he whispered, his eyes screwed closed. "I love her more than anything I've ever loved. Her soul, her heart, I can't lose her. I can't lose the light of my life." His hands fell from his face and his eyes fluttered open. "Please, don't let her leave me."
He climbed out of his vehicle, sliding his phone in his back pocket. Not many people were there, mainly due to Paul being so early. Inside, the girls were eating and joking around on stage, all wearing their monogrammed robes over their stagewear. Charlie was chewing on an apple when she noticed Kyle moving toward her. Paul was advancing on the building, his chest tightening in a painful way. He was on the verge of a panic attack when he threw open the door, spotting the grey haired girl talking with Nat and Sam. He descended the stairs, feeling the tears release down his cheeks. "Paul," Payton gasped, her hazel eyes opened wide in shock. Charlie found him soon after, tears already blurring her vision. "I love you," he spoke confidently, despite the tears pelting down his face. "Charlotte Amelia Morris, I... I love you." Kyle stepped forward, his abnormally large hand held out in front of him. "She doesn't love you, mate," he stated in his slow, Cheshire drawl. Paul ignored him, standing at the bottom of the stage steps.
"When I first met you, it was like I had woken up from a nightmare. Life was so hard, having to deal with the tabloids and ex lovers. I had to hide away from the public because of self humiliation and fear of being pegged as a bad guy. But, when you came along, the nightmare was eclipsed with your heart. You're so... pure, Charlie," he paused, his green eyes red from his tears. They were locked with Charlie's, tears darting down her made up cheeks. Her bottom lip trembled as she held back a sob, wanting to grab him and hug him. "You brought this beautiful light to my life. You silenced all of my insecurities around you, and you brought me out of my funk. I would be nothing without you. And I love you. I love you so much that I can't eat, I can't sleep. You're like a– a drug and I'm infected with you." The girls were also crying, holding each other's hands. They hated seeing their best friends going through this. Kyle stepped forward, his emerald eyes narrowed in a harsh glare. "Get out," he growled. Finally, Paul looked to Kyle with a blank expression. "Guess you're going to have to make me because I'm not going anywhere until–"
Paul's words were cut off when Kyle's fist smashed into his jaw. He was caught off guard, another fist slamming against his nose. "Pawel! Kyle, stop!" Charlie sobbed, hopping down the stairs in a fast pace. She gripped Kyle's elbow, instantly regretting her actions. By complete accident, Kyle's reared hand made contact with Charlie's cheek, her fingers releasing his elbow and catching her own face. Paul's eyes fueled with rage as he switched their positions, his fists pounding into Kyle wherever he could get. "Don't touch her," he growled, his punches coming faster and faster until his fingers ripped open and began to bleed. "Pawel, please... Stop," she begged. Her broken, small voice calmed the angry actor, his eyes trailing over her tear streaked face. "I..." She shushed him, pulling him off of Kyle. "Please go..." He looked down at her, praying she wasn't saying what he heard.
"Get out of here," she told him, pushing him back. "Go! Before I call the police." The girls standing on the stage looked at Paul with sympathy, their lips curled into frowns. "Go!" Charlie screamed, pointing her finger at the door. She broke down, piece by piece, as she watched him leave the arena. She loved him... she really did.
