Toby yelled at me to run, but I was already on it. Some of the faster fans were right behind us, close enough to reach out and brush their fingertips against our jackets. I kept running, but before I knew what was happening I tripped on an uneven spot in the sidewalk and fell to the ground. The fans were to close, so by the time they realized what had happened they had already trampled and tripped over me.
I cried out in pain as I got a kick to the ribs, but shut up as a foot landed in my face. They all stopped and were dead silent. Toby ran up to me and knelt down. I could feel a warm and sticky liquid running down my face and I knew I would have bruises on my chest.
"What is wrong with you people?" Toby asked, looking at the fans.
They all looked down and started apologizing, but I interrupted them.
"Toby, it's fine," I wheezed, trying to sit up.
I got really dizzy, so I leaned over on my elbow. He picked me up and cut a path through the fans. They all apologized, and when we reached the edge he turned around.
"I know none of you did this on purpose, but I have to get home, so if you could please stop following us it would be great. No hard feelings, audience," he said, turning and walking back the way we came.
He carried me the whole entire way back, even when I protested and wanted to walk. He carried me to my apartment and laid me on my bed, grabbing the first aid kit from my bathroom. He sat down next to me and wiped my face. My nose was bleeding and possibly broken, so he taped some gauze over it. He cleaned the rest of the cuts and picked me up again.
"Toby, I'm pretty sure I know how to walk," I complained.
"I don't care, you're not taking a single step until you get checked out," he said, carrying me to his car.
I sighed and crossed my arms as he set me in the passenger seat and got in the driver's side. He drove me to the doctor's office and carried me in.
"Toby, I told you I can fucking walk," I retorted.
He ignored me and set me in the waiting room. I sighed and glared at the wall. After a few minutes a nurse walked in and ushered me into a room. I sat on the table in the middle of the room and waited for the doctor to come in. A short, round man walked in with a folder, Toby behind him. He walked up and started to probe my chest and check my nose, murmuring to himself.
He wrote down some stuff on a piece of paper and started asking me questions. I answered them as best as I could and waited for him to finish, glancing over at Toby. He was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands, looking very bored. He sat up when the doctor cleared his throat.
"Your nose isn't broken, just slightly fractured. Your ribs are okay, they're just bruised. Everything else is fine," he said.
I nodded and got down, leaning against Toby for support because every step I took caused a pain in my chest. We made our way out to the car and we started driving. I stared out the window and listened to the pitter-patter of rain on the windshield. Toby just looked at the road ahead, which he almost never did. I turned toward him and held his free hand.
"Toby, what's wrong?" I asked, rubbing my thumb across the back of his hand.
"I can't help but feel like this is my fault. If I wasn't so famous that never would've happened. You would be fine, and we would be sitting at home playing video games. It's my fault, Jacie," he said, squeezing my hand.
Where the hell did this come from? "No, it's not. It's their fault for being crazy people. Don't blame yourself. I love the fact that you're a famous YouTube Partner. Toby, no one blames you," I said gently, holding his hand with both of mine.
He parked the cra in the parking lot and led me inside and into my place. We sat on my bed, and we were silent for a while. "Jacie, I'm thinking of stopping with the videos," Toby said.
