Paparazzi Boy

13. Hold On

They say that the loneliest place on earth is when you're in a large room, surrounded by people you don't know. However, I tend to disagree with that statement, only because I've felt more alone in the arms of someone I thought I loved, than I ever did in a room filled with gossip and awkward stares. Alone.

Alone, she kept thinking.

Why didn't she feel so alone, in such darkness, in a place where she couldn't reach out to anyone, where she could voice what she was feeling - thinking?

She was becoming increasingly cold. She could hear a soothing voice shout her name repeatedly. Somewhere in the room with her. Were they next to her or across the room?

"Belle, keep holding on," she kept hearing, along with heavy breathing that followed. She recognized the voice, but she couldn't match the voice to a face, not even a name.

"Belle, please hold on. Stay here with me."

They were holding her hand. Warmth. She could feel him now.

"Belle, Belle, Belle... please, fuck, wake up. Wake up, Belle. Please..."

Who was it? Why was she yearning to hear it closer? She wanted so desperately to respond to that helpless voice, but she knew she needed to sleep first. She could feel his arms wrap around her - her shoulders felt heavy.

She wanted to sleep.

And it seemed to want her too as it pulled her in, pitch dark coldness surrounding her as consciousness starting running off her mind and left her limp in the arms of someone she wasn't sure she completely knew. She was resisting it as much as she could. She wanted full awareness.

"I'm not fucking leaving her. I'm staying right here, right here, until she wakes up!"

"Okay," she heard another voice, faint, but there. Sadness. She heard sadness.

"Belle," she heard him whisper, closer, almost as if he were breathing on her cheek, "I'm going to be here when you wake up, don't worry. I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I'm not leaving."

In that moment, she didn't feel alone.

Unlike with Jacob,

she didn't feel alone at all.

She heard the door close and a few minutes later, she felt the warmth leave. He wasn't holding her hand anymore. He wasn't hovering over her. She wanted his warmth. She wanted to feel something other than darkness.

"Belle... Fuck, I don't want to do this." She could hear him across the room. "This is so fucked up, Belle. I wish you could know."

Max. His name came to mind and his face played through her head and instantly she wanted him to come closer again.

"I'm so sorry, Belle. I can't lose this. I've worked so hard for this life I live. I worked so hard for everything I have and I can't let him take it away. You would understand, you live the life I try so hard to avoid."

What was he referring to?

"Belle, I adore you more than anything. And when this gets out, I hope you find the will to forgive me."

She felt heavy. She wanted to sleep. She couldn't resist it much longer. Before she lost consciousness, she heard a flash.