For the same reason as everyone else, he was injured. I didn't even remember this guy until his file appeared on my desk. I was much too busy trying to save lives rather than to be pushed around and bought by the guy's manager. I remember him pleading in my office while I was trying to get past him and downstairs to the clinic where one of my patient's were due for surgery soon. The guy just wouldn't stop. What was his name? Pete? Patrick? No no, something else, something short and weird like the way he stood with all his muscle. Off subject, wait.... Paul. His name was Paul. Anyway. Apparently the guy is in a band, and his manager and huge body guard wanted to make sure he would be okay in time for some tour they were about to start in a few weeks. I think it was around then, when he said his name, that I froze. I knew the son of a bitch very well. The boy who had stolen my heart and innocence then threw them away as soon as he got what he wanted, was back in my life and his manager is begging me to save his life. How cliche that I hold Harry' Styles's life in my hand, hm.
