3rd person pov

Ben felt the nervous churn in his stomach as they approached the Isle of the Lost. He had hoped that bringing Evie, Jay, and Carlos would somehow ease the weight of what he was about to do, but the dread still clung to him like the thick fog that settled over the darkened Isle. The streets were grimy, littered with debris, and the air was thick with an unsettling tension. He forced himself to focus, knowing that he had to find Mal and bring her back, no matter how lost she felt.

They walked briskly, passing the people of the isle Ben kept his gaze forward, determined to find Mal. But before they could get far, he had accidentally bumped into someone

"Hey, I know you!" A figure stepped into view—blond hair, a wide grin, and eyes that sparkled with excitement.

"Gil." Carlos has whispered for only ben to hear

Ben furrowed his brow. "Uh, no. Don't know you, either, man," he replied, trying to sidestep the encounter. They didn’t have time for distractions.

But Gil wasn’t having it. "Uh, yeah, you do," he insisted, bouncing on his feet like an eager puppy. "Dude, I'll give you a hint. My dad is quick, slick, and his neck... Huh? Is incredibly thick. Come on, man. I kn—Huh? Huh. Huh? Huh." Gil’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "Oh! You're King Ben!"

Ben sighed. The last thing he needed was to draw more attention. "Okay, let's go," Jay said quickly, pulling Ben forward, trying to move them along.

But Gil was relentless. "Yeah, yeah, you totally are King Ben! And you're J-Jay, Carlos, Evie. Hey, guys. Oh, Uma and Reina gonna love this!" He giggled like a kid who’d just uncovered the greatest secret of all.

Ben shook his head, offering a brief, strained smile. "Wish me luck," he muttered to Jay once they reached the hideout

The climb up the narrow staircase felt endless, each step heavier than the last. Ben’s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of what he might find on the other side of that door. When he finally reached the top, he took a deep breath and pushed it open.

Inside, Mal stood with her back to him, her hand moving rhythmically as she spray-painted the walls of her hideout. The vibrant colors she used contrasted starkly with the gloom of the Isle, but Ben couldn’t help but notice the melancholy in every stroke.

He swallowed hard, trying to break the tension with a joke. "At least I don't see a picture of me with horns and a pitchfork," he said, stepping closer.

Mal turned around, her face unreadable. “Ben," she said flatly, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"I'm so sorry about our fight," he began, his voice shaky. "It was all my fault. Please come home." He could hear the desperation in his own words, but he didn't care. He just needed her to understand.

Mal scoffed, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Ben," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I am home."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d prepared for many possible reactions, but this wasn’t one of them. He tried to push forward, to lighten the mood, hoping it would make a difference. "I brought the limo," he said with a weak chuckle. "It's a sweet ride."

Mal sniffled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t fit in, Ben. I really gave it my best shot. And if you think I can change, I think you’re wrong.”

Ben’s heart ached at the sight of her. She was the strongest person he knew, yet here she was, breaking right in front of him. "Then I'll change," he said quickly, his voice filled with determination. "I'll skip school, have more fun. You know, I'll blow off some of my responsibilities."

"No, no!" Mal’s voice broke, her emotions finally spilling over. "See? I'm such a terrible influence. It's only a matter of time before I do something so messed up that not only does the kingdom turn on me, but they turn on you."

Ben shook his head, stepping closer. "Don't quit us, Mal," he pleaded, his voice soft but firm. He reached out, his fingers brushing her arm. "The people love you. I love you. Don't you love me?"

Mal looked away, her face crumpling with pain. "I have to take myself out of the picture because it's what's best for you, and it's what's best for Auradon."

Ben’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t lose her—not like this. "Mal, no, please," he whispered.

She turned back to him, her gaze steady despite the tears that now streamed down her face. "Ben... I can't do this," she said, her voice filled with finality. "You should go, Ben. Please leave."

He wanted to fight her on this, to make her see that she was wrong. But the look in her eyes told him that she had already made up her mind. He stood there, frozen, as she turned away from him, her back once again to the world.

For a moment, Ben’s heart wavered, unsure if he could walk away from the girl he loved more than anything in the world. But he knew he had no choice. He gave her one last look, hoping she would change her mind, but she remained silent.

With a heavy heart, Ben turned and left the hideout. He descended the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. When he reached the bottom, Evie was waiting for him, her eyes wide with hope.

"So?" she asked, her voice filled with quiet urgency. "Where's Mal?"

Ben shook his head, the words choking him. "She’s not coming."

The weight of those words hung in the air, a crushing realization that he had just lost the most important person in his life.