Half a heart

Chapter 47

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, Mental Health, Emotional Distress

Charlie's POV

The buzz around the stadium was different tonight. There was an electricity in the air that felt sharper, more intense than before. I could feel it the moment we stepped out of the van, the way the fans' screams pierced the air just a little louder, their eyes wide with curiosity and something else—something that made my skin crawl.

Paul and Jacob flanked me on either side as we made our way inside, their presence a solid wall of security that I desperately needed. I tried to focus on the ground, on the rhythm of my footsteps, anything to block out the noise, but it was impossible to ignore the whispers, the way the fans' eyes lingered on me just a bit too long.

I had been trying to ignore it all day—the growing storm on social media, the comments, the pictures. But the truth was, I couldn't escape it. Somehow, the fans had found out about me living with the boys, about how they had taken me in as their own. And now, it felt like the whole world was watching, dissecting every little detail of my life.

The boys had tried to shield me from it as much as they could, but there was only so much they could do. And now, as we reached the stage and the reality of what was happening began to sink in, I could feel the anxiety clawing at my chest, threatening to overwhelm me.

We reached the side of the stage, where I was supposed to watch the performance like usual, but tonight, it felt different. The usual excitement I felt watching the boys perform was tainted by the knowledge that every eye in the stadium wasn't just on them—they were on me, too.

The boys were already on stage, the opening notes of their first song ringing out through the speakers. The crowd erupted into cheers, but instead of the usual thrill that came with it, all I felt was dread.

Paul must have noticed the change in my demeanor because he leaned down and whispered, "You okay, Charlie? We can move back if it's too much."

I shook my head, though I wasn't sure if I was convincing him or myself. "I'm fine," I lied, my voice barely audible above the noise. "I'll be fine."

But I wasn't fine. The music, the lights, the noise—it all felt like it was closing in on me, like the walls of the stadium were pressing in tighter and tighter. I could feel the stares of the fans, their curiosity burning into me like a spotlight, and suddenly, it was too much.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I stumbled back, reaching out blindly for something to hold onto. The world around me started to blur, the music distorting in my ears as the panic took hold.

"Charlie!" I heard Paul's voice, but it sounded distant, like he was calling out to me from the other side of a tunnel. I felt his strong arms wrap around me, steadying me, but it did nothing to stop the spiraling thoughts in my head.

"It's okay, I've got you," Paul murmured, his voice firm but soothing. "Just breathe, Charlie. Focus on my voice."

But I couldn't. The panic was too strong, the pressure in my chest too overwhelming. The world tilted on its axis, and before I knew it, I was on the ground, my knees giving out as the weight of everything crashed down on me.

Jacob was there in an instant, his large frame blocking out the flashing lights and the curious eyes of the fans. "Charlie, listen to me," he said, his voice calm and commanding. "You're safe. We're right here with you."

I tried to focus on his words, on the warmth of Paul's hand on my shoulder, but it was like trying to hold onto water. The anxiety was too powerful, the noise too loud, and all I could do was curl into myself, trying to block it all out.

The music continued to blare, the boys oblivious to what was happening just offstage, and I hated that I was ruining this for them. I hated that I couldn't be stronger, that I couldn't just push through like they always did.

Tears burned in my eyes, and I squeezed them shut, wishing I could disappear, wishing I could be anywhere but here. The pressure in my chest grew tighter and tighter until it felt like I couldn't breathe, like the air was being sucked out of my lungs.

"It's okay, Charlie, you're going to be okay," Paul's voice broke through the fog, and I latched onto it like a lifeline. "Just focus on breathing. In and out, nice and slow."

Jacob was there too, his voice joining Paul's, both of them grounding me, pulling me back from the edge. "You're not alone, Charlie. We're right here. Just keep breathing."

I tried to follow their instructions, forcing myself to take slow, deliberate breaths, but it was like trying to climb out of quicksand. The more I tried to calm down, the more I felt myself sinking.

Minutes felt like hours as I sat there, my body trembling, my heart racing, until finally, the noise began to recede, the world slowly coming back into focus. I felt Paul's hand on my back, his touch steady and reassuring, and I realized that I wasn't alone. They were here with me, and they weren't going to let me fall.

"You did good, Charlie," Jacob said softly, his voice filled with a quiet pride that I didn't feel I deserved. "You're okay now. Just keep breathing."

I nodded, though I still felt shaky, my nerves frayed and raw. The panic had passed, but the exhaustion it left behind was overwhelming, and all I wanted to do was curl up somewhere safe and forget this night had ever happened.

The boys were still performing, their voices rising above the chaos, and I felt a pang of guilt for distracting Paul and Jacob from their duties. But as I looked up at them, I saw nothing but concern and understanding in their eyes.

"Let's get you out of here, okay?" Paul said gently, helping me to my feet. "We'll take you somewhere quiet until the show is over."

I nodded again, unable to find the words to thank them. They guided me backstage, away from the noise and the lights, and I felt a small wave of relief wash over me as the crowd disappeared from view.

Once we were in a quiet room, Paul and Jacob stayed with me, their presence a comforting reminder that I wasn't alone. They didn't say much, just sat with me, letting the silence do its work. And as the minutes passed, I felt the tension slowly drain from my body, replaced by a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.

"I'm sorry," I finally whispered, my voice hoarse from the tears. "I didn't mean to—"

"You have nothing to apologize for," Paul interrupted, his tone firm but kind. "You're going through a lot, Charlie. It's okay to need help sometimes."

Jacob nodded in agreement, his eyes soft with understanding. "We're here for you, no matter what. You don't have to go through this alone."

Their words brought a fresh wave of emotion, but this time, it wasn't fear or anxiety—it was gratitude. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I had to carry this burden by myself. I had people who cared about me, who were willing to help me shoulder the weight, and that made all the difference.

As I sat there, surrounded by the quiet strength of Paul and Jacob, I realized that I didn't have to face this alone. And for the first time, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could get through this.

---

**End of Chapter**