The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

28.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Matt was already mid-yelling. He paced through his office, and I just sat there looking at him. "You realize that everyone is writing about you? TikTok, Twitter, even Facebook — and that platform's basically a retirement home!"

I clenched my teeth, forcing an awkward grin, "Well, the idea was to get me known and make people talk about me. Mission accomplished?"

"Don't," he jabbed a finger at me, "Don't do that thing where you act like nothing's a big deal. Don't you understand how much trouble you could've gotten into?"

"Wasn't that clear from the twenty-minute rant? Please, go on. Don't let me stop you," I rolled my eyes.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering curse words.

"Louis," he said, voice straining to sound calm, "You're not just some guy anymore. People recognize you. And when they do, they film you. And when they film you, it goes viral. You can't just pop into random bars like — like a normal person!"

I raised my eyebrows, smirking, "I understand. It wasn't really well-thought-out. But what's the plan, Matt? Put me in a glass box so the peasants can look but not touch?"

Matt slammed his hands down on his desk, and I swear the poor thing rattled, "No, Louis. The plan is to get you a bodyguard."

The words hit me like a slap. I uncrossed my legs, no longer smiling. "A bodyguard? You're joking."

"Dead serious," Matt shot back. "You think last night was bad? Imagine that times ten. You're lucky it wasn't worse. You could've been hurt, or even worse — you could've hurt your career."

"Wow. Love the priorities there," I said, clapping slowly.

"Louis," His voice dropped, low and sharp, "This isn't just about you. You're under contract. With me. With this label. If you get yourself caught up in a scandal, it's not just your name on the line — it's mine too."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, "And slapping a bodyguard on me fixes all that... How?"

"He's going to keep you safe. Keep you focused. Keep you out of trouble," Matt snapped, ticking the points off on his fingers.

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Yes, you do," Matt shot back, leaning forward to match my posture but with about ten times the intensity, "Because clearly, you can't handle the fact that your life isn't your own anymore. You don't get to wander into bars and play hide-and-seek with fans. Not without consequences."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. "Your concerts are coming up. No scandals. No drama is acceptable," he said, looking me straight in the eyes. I held his gaze for a second but felt my stomach twist.

He had no idea about that little drama between me and Skylar. He didn't know. Not yet. And when he did? That was going to be a whole new storm.

Matt kept going, oblivious to my panic, "People are watching you, scrutinizing you. The thing with Harry is good, being seen with him keeps you in the public eye, in a good way. But you? Running around in bars, pulling stunts? That's reckless. If you want to keep associating with him, fine — but do it strategically. And do it with a bodyguard."

Him mentioning Harry made my heart do a little jump.

I stood up, frowning. "You're unbelievable."

"And you're impossible to deal with. But this is non-negotiable," he said firmly.

I walked out, my fists clenched. A bodyguard. Fantastic. So what, now privacy is non-existent? No way.

On my way back, I typed the number of the one person I knew would listen to my rant without complaining.