How Do You Love Someone Without Getting Hurt?

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Tyler's P.O.V:

The days were beginning to run together as I fell into a strict routine. The past two weeks were almost a blur, the days filled with little variety. I was always the first one awake, the guys always passed out until early afternoon due to their drunken festivities the previous night. After a quick shower I would get dressed, eat a small breakfast, and make my way into the venue to start the day. Maddie and I would spend hours getting the merch stands set up, the t-shirts, sweatshirts, CDs, posters, lanyards, etc. sorted, counted, and organized. They guys would mosey out of the bus eventually, usually doing press and interviews all afternoon before soundcheck.

Once the venue would open I would be busy working until Austin and the guys went on, when I would make my way to the stage to watch, returning to the merch table after the show to make any last-minute sales before the venue emptied. Maddie and I would work together efficiently to get things packed and inventoried before loading them back into the trailer, all to do it again the next day. I was loving my job; getting to meet all the fans was pretty awesome, and Maddie and I had become fast friends.

I seemed to spend less and less time with Austin as the days went on. I didn't take it too personally; I understood that he would be busy when I agreed to come on this thing with him. And he was busy: between interviews, photoshoots, signings, meet and greets, and shows his free time was limited. That wasn't what bothered me. What bothered me was the fact that when he had free time he preferred to spend it with practically everyone else besides me. Lately the only time we spent together was with other people, and the only time we were alone was when we went to bed at night.

It wasn't easy trying to carry on our relationship like this, but it was better than the alternative, better than not being able to see each other at all.

Today wasn't any different than the rest; I had woken up first, and after getting ready Maddie and I went straight to work. The set was a little earlier today than normal, and the kids were already filing into the venue. The line in front of the merch table seemed to be a mile long, and I worked hard to get the people helped quickly so they could take their places in front of the stage.

As Abandon All Ships began to play the line became almost non-existant. I took a seat behind the table and sipped generously at a bottle of water as I scanned the room, taking it all in like I did every night. A couple of teenage girls standing off to the side caught my attention. A girl, maybe 16 or 17, with bright purple hair kept looking over at me and whispering to the girl next to her. I tried to shake it off, figuring it didn't concern me what they were talking about. She kept shooting me disgusted glares, and eventually I rolled my eyes and directed my attention elsewhere.

Ever since Austin publically announced me as his girlfriend I had been getting some flack from his fans; angry tweets, rude comments on Instagram pictures, dirty looks. Not a day would go by that I wouldn't get some type of hateful comment directed at me. I tried not to let it bother me; I think it bothered Austin more than me.

The two girls walked in front of the table slowly, the purple-haired one eyeing me the entire time, scoffing under her breath. "She's not even pretty. What was he thinking? She doesn't deserve him. Gielle was at least pretty," she said loud enough for me to hear as they passed by, making their way towards the stage. Normally I would just let it roll off of my back, but something about that comment didn't sit well with me, and it wasn't that she said I don't deserve him.

"Hey Maddie," I hollered over the increasing noise in her direction. She turned and smiled at me as I caught her attention. "Who's Gielle?" I hadn't heard the name before. The only ex-girlfriend of Austin's I was aware of was that porn star - Crissy, I think. I hadn't heard of Gielle, and I suppose curiosity killed the cat with that one.

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