it felt like i was constantly battling with this side of my life. being famous. being known. it's all the shit you don't ask for but end up stuck with. and tonight? tonight was one of those times. i had hoped it would be a quiet dinner, just me and imogen, but as soon as we stepped outside the restaurant, the flashes started.

at first, imogen tensed up beside me. i knew she wasn't used to this, and i could feel her grip on my hand tighten. it wasn't like the rest of the world didn't know me, but i didn't want her to feel like she was just some part of the show. she was my life, my moments. not some random story.

then, the questions started. damn it. they always do.

"louis, who's the girl? your new girlfriend?" one of the paparazzi shouted, and i could hear the hungry tone in their voice. they just wanted an answer to make a headline. and honestly? i didn't know what the fuck to say to that.

"who is she, louis? is she your new girl?" another photographer shouted.

i ignored them, keeping my eyes on imogen, trying to keep her grounded, trying to shield her from it all. but when the flashes got too intense, i tightened my grip on her hand, pulling her closer. it was the only way to show her she was safe, that she wasn't going to be overwhelmed by this circus.

"you know she's not used to this, right?" i muttered, mostly to myself, though i knew she heard me.

she squeezed my hand back, and her voice was soft but firm. "it's fine. i'll be okay."

but i could see the anxiety in her eyes, and i hated it. i hated the way they made her feel. so i didn't even care anymore. i let out a frustrated sigh, the annoyance building up inside me.

"seriously? you guys don't get enough of my face every damn day, do you?" i shot back, trying to deflect. but the camera flashes kept going, relentless.

one of the photographers shouted again, trying to get my attention. "is she your girlfriend, louis? when did you two start dating?"

i could feel imogen's shoulders tense beside me, and i knew this was all too much for her. i had to do something, anything to make it stop. i wasn't going to let her go through this alone.

i leaned into her, close enough so that only she could hear me. "just look at me, okay? forget about them. they're not worth your energy."

i rubbed my thumb in small, comforting circles on the back of her hand, and i could see her relax just a little, the tension slowly slipping away as i spoke.

"louis, answer us! is it serious?"

"fuck off," i muttered, loud enough that they could hear me, but i didn't care. they were crossing lines, and i wasn't having it.

i was just about to get into the car, pull imogen away from all the damn questions when one last photographer decided to get bold.

"come on, louis, is she the one?" the guy asked, his voice almost mocking.

i looked at imogen, the girl who had become so much more than just a person to me. the girl who had, in the span of just a few weeks, completely taken over my thoughts. the girl i didn't want to protect just for the sake of it, but because i genuinely cared about her.

"yeah, she's the one," i said quietly, enough for her to hear, but not for anyone else.

i felt her hand squeeze mine tighter, and that's when i realized: i was already in too deep. and fuck, i didn't care.

the moment passed, but the paparazzi didn't give up. as imogen and i got into the car, i looked out the window and saw them still clicking away, still shouting questions we both didn't have the answers to.

as the car pulled away from the scene, i leaned back in my seat, my hand still on imogen's, rubbing slow circles on her palm, trying to calm her down.

"you okay?" i asked, my voice soft. i wanted her to feel like it was okay, like we were okay. that nothing they said mattered.

imogen looked up at me, her eyes still a little wide, but her lips tugging into a smile. "yeah, i'm good. just wasn't expecting all of that."

"welcome to my fucking life," i said with a half-laugh, rubbing my thumb over her hand again, just to reassure her. "they never stop. i swear, they just want a piece of everything."

"well," she started, her voice soft and sweet, "i don't think i'll ever get used to it."

i chuckled, leaning over and brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "you'll get the hang of it. don't let those assholes get to you."

we drove in silence for a few moments, and for a second, i thought maybe things were settling down. but even as the flashes died down, i couldn't shake the feeling that i was in deep.

when it was just the two of us, away from the paparazzi, i wanted her to feel like we could have something real. something that wasn't tainted by the flashing lights and invasive questions. something just for us.

"you know, i wasn't expecting to be a part of your world like that," she said, her voice light, though i could hear a trace of uncertainty in it. "but i guess i'm getting used to it."

"good," i said with a grin, "because i'm not going anywhere."

she smiled, her hand tightening around mine, and for once, the world outside didn't seem so loud.