#moments: bertie5

[grxmpygerard]

The past few months had been a whirlwind in the world of Gerard Cole. For a boy that, quite frankly, tended to keep himself to himself and avoid social interaction as much as humanly possible – with the rare exceptions of Ruby, Niamh, Sherrie, and Seth – he'd found himself in the company of several friends of late, which hadn't exactly been on the agenda. He wasn't complaining, not really. Blossom had been... a surprising, but entertaining, addition to his life, and Katherine was certainly a welcome one, and everyone in between had only ever treated him with far more kindness than he thought was warranted. All the same, it wasn't his newfound overdose of friends that came as the biggest shock to his system, not by a long shot.

Gerard had known Bertie Chambert for a while now, that much was clear. They'd shared classes together, and had been thrust into the same drama club and forced the share a stage together multiple times. More often than not, however, Gerard was centre stage, while Bertie was in the background working his way to the front. Well, either that, or he'd roll into rehearsals late, his hair mussed, his lips chapped, and an awful waft of marijuana emitting from the boy. It had been the cause of one too many arguments between Bertie and Gerard, the two of them bickering so frequently that by the time it had been announced that they'd be starring in a show together, Gerard was at the end of his tether. His petty attitude towards the brunette wasn't always justified, but he often told himself that it was. He wanted to succeed, and he'd always seen Bertie as an obstacle. He ranted and raved on to Ruby – over text, over the phone, over direct message, facebook message, tweets, tumblr, snapchat, and to her face – about how his lack of drive, his disinterest in their production, and his complete disrespect, was the driving factor behind his frustrations with the boy.

It had taken a lot of time for Gerard to admit the real reason surrounding his consistently terrible mood as far as Bertie was concerned. The truth, in whole, was that Gerard liked him. At first, he'd been jealous – of his talent, his charisma, his charm. And, of course, of the fact that people liked Bertie – if not for his gorgeous brown eyes or curling locks, but for his wide grin and addictive personality. It drove Gerard insane. And then, one day, he'd realised that it wasn't just a jealousy, but a longing. He liked the boy – more than 'liked', in fact, and he had no idea how to process that information.

He knew fine well that his father wouldn't stand for it. If Gerard so much as looked at another boy, he'd be out on his ass. He'd be disinherited and disowned, and outcast from the family entirely. He father didn't stand for pansies. He'd no longer fund his classes – he'd always considered his permission for Gerard to study theatre a kindness, an act of charity – and he'd never so much as look at his son again. Coming out to his parents had been the most horrifying and painful thing that Gerard had ever done, and still he felt as though he were hiding from his own true self, and in his own home, at that. He had no idea what he would do if his father found out about his feelings for Bertie, or what would happen if he acted upon them, but he'd reached a breaking point. To say he didn't care would be an outright lie, but he was tired of living in fear of his father, and that's what had lead him to where he was today; that is, to say, standing awkwardly, dressed up, reeking of cologne that he couldn't even bear the whiff of, and awkwardly hovering at a party that he'd never usually have been caught dead at.

Footballers and cheerleaders surrounded him, and he tried to slip into the crowd as best he could, knowing fine well that he had no place here. He could see Delia in the distance, slipping off with JP somewhere – it only took him one guess to know what they were about to do. The fact that Bertie wasn't tucked up at her side presumably meant that he wasn't here yet, as Gerard had sights on both Izzy and Peter, and still no sign of his boy.

Figuring it probably for the best that he wait outside, so as to get eyes on Bertie the second he arrives, Gerard wandered outside by himself, tugging nervously at the hem of his t-shirt. The lawn was littered with footballers, cheerleaders, and students alike, some tipsy, some drunk, and some just straight up stoned. He ignored them all, feeling sweat trickle down his neck as he thought back to the days events. Admitting to Bertie that he liked him had no been on the agenda for the day, but as much as it scared him, he was glad that he had. Deep and lost in thought of the boy, his body took an involuntary jolt as he felt two hands wrap around his waist. On instinct, his head shot up, a wide smile on his face as he expected to see Bertie, only for his heart to drop in his chest as he came eye-to-eye with Zaylor.

Oh God.

He wriggled uncomfortably under the boy's touch, separating himself from him instantly, his head shooting around as though expecting to see Bertie materialise right before his very eyes. Not now, oh God, not now.

“Uhhhh... Hey– Uh, good to see you, Zaylor,” Gerard lied, through gritted teeth. He winced, before turning his gaze to the floor, his voice feeble as he spoke once more. “I'm, uh... I'm just sort of waiting for someone, so...”