Chapter Text
"We're going home, Maya." Paul has kept their luggage bags packed, piling them on the folded out cot. He even changed his outfit- a humiliating reminder of this time spent looking forward to the convention. It's a more toned down Aloha shirt, dark blue and patterned with festive sailboats. It's the most serious shirt he packed. He's starting to regret it.
"What are you talking about? We just got here." Maya's voice is heavy with disbelief, stepping tentatively into the room. The sun is radiant, washing the hotel room in warmth. Las Vegas sprawls out before the hotel's large windows, the city alive and pulsing with tourists just like them soaking up the sunshine.
"Maya, we had one rule on this trip. What was it?"
"Don't treat me like a child, I'm-"
"Maya." He rests an arm on the pile of luggage, resting his weight behind it. The pile of luggage crumbles under him easily, spilling out onto the floor. Paul instead spills over into the cot. The sudden force also knocks over the cot, and the two become intertwined as they hit the floor. A quiet, ashamed part of Paul is aware that if he saw a fat man like himself falling in such a clumsy fashion, he would have laughed. Maya gasps, springing into action to help hoist her father off the floor. He considers brushing her off. He's still angry- well, more afraid than angry. Maya doesn't know- this time she's safe and its still early enough that all of this can be prevented.
"Dad, are you okay?" she asks when he's finally steady on his feet.
"I'm fine, honey, I'm fine," Paul says, lying through his teeth. Maya begins gathering up the luggage and bags from the floor. He rolls the cot back up into its upright position. She lays the luggage on the bed this time, neat and orderly as though they were children waiting for their name to be called. Paul takes a moment to consider if he's going to go through with this. She barely even knows Lane at this point. He's only a nice valet to her so far. He doesn't even know if Maya even likes him now or if that happens just before the party.
Paul takes a deep breath.
"It... turns out you got accepted to UCLA! A full ride and everything! They just called me earlier and I wanted to surprise you- but we've got to get on this fast. Apparently the wait time to secure classes and your dorm sitch sorted out is really short. We've got to head back home immediately!" He watches as Maya's face changes from confusion to joy, and from joy to concern.
"Are you sure? We've got to go right now? What about the convention- you worked hard for this."
"Honey, the convention happens every year. If they don't invite me next year, we can take a vacation anyway! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you." He makes the biggest smile he can muster, and pulls his daughter into his arms. Maya is embracing him, squeezing as tightly as she can. Paul can feel her calming heartbeat. Though everything is going wrong in Paul Blart's now seemingly immortal life right now, this is what keeps him grounded.
"I'm... I'm so happy," she says, stifling the nervousness perched in her throat. "I thought you'd be upset about me leaving, since-"
"Oh sure, just a little. But knowing my little girl is going out there and chasing her dreams, well, that's enough for me." A Paul from before all of this would have been upset. A Paul from before all this would have done everything to keep her at home. Of course, a Paul from before all this would never know the horrors of the realities he couldn't protect her.
There's a knock at the door, and Lane lets himself in. He seems sheepish, a wadded paper ticket in his hands.
"I... you forgot this," Lane says, watching as the two Blarts break away from each other. Maya takes a step towards the door, but Paul for once is quicker. He takes two big strides until he's in front of Lane. Every part of him hates this teenage boy, who in every way has inexplicably kept dragging Maya into trouble. Not today, Lane. Not today.
"Thanks, kid. We won't be needing this though." Paul grabs the ticket and crumples it into a tighter ball, tossing it wildly in the general direction of the room's trashcan. On a second thought, his sense of honor grabs a hold of him. He reaches into his pocket and places a worn ten dollar bill into the valet's hands. Lane starts to say something to Maya, but Paul closes the door on him.
"Well, enough of that," Paul says hastily. "Maya, call the front desk, would you? We're gonna need some help getting this all downstairs."
---
Lane finds himself alone in a corner at the party, close to a hundred other teenagers are partying around him. It's the same as always when he's invited to these things. He checks his phone for the millionth time, and his Twitter feed has barely moved. He's itching for any excuse to get out of here for a moment- maybe if he can compose himself, he can work up the ability to have fun. Too bad the girl he met earlier had to leave so soon. She was lovely, charming- refreshing in ways Lane couldn't even begin to describe. He likes to think she wouldn't have left him stranded by himself at this party, unlike the other teenage valets at this hotel he called 'friends.'
He manages to slink away, just barely, from the men in suits. Lane tucks him into the storage room of the hall, scanning There's only one other number in his phone that isn't family. He quickly dials it, and when Divina picks up, he begins speaking as fast as he can. It's clipped and stuttered, and he keeps hearing Divina ask him to slow down. There is a knocking at the door, so he speaks faster.
Divina hears Lane shout at the same time a door slams open into the wall, and the line goes silent. She calls Eduardo, trying to put what little she could understand together.
---
A couple days later, when he's reading the newspaper in his favorite chair at home, a headline about Las Vegas startles Paul Blart enough to make his heart stop.
"What's wrong, dad?" is the last thing he hears before he wakes up again on the worst night of his life.