Gerard P.O.V

I poured some of the amber liquid into two small glasses, slightly sad that it wasn't colder. I held one out towards him, which he took gingerly. He probably thought that I had drugged him or something- I wanted to assure him that I hadn't. He swirled it around in the glass, eyes watching the circles that formed. There was a childlike innocence to him, that was masked by his love for alcohol.

"So," I began with, trying to beak the ice in a smooth way, "What do you do for a living?" I asked, straddling the chair that would usually be tucked neatly underneath the desk. His eyes widened as he swallowed some of the whiskey, clearing the back of his throats before beginning to talk.

"I, uh- you'll probably think that I'm lame, and you'll probably not want to hang around with me ever again- but, I'm a singer and a songwriter, at a bar downtown. I get paid enough so that I can live in this motel, and I occasionally get paid with alcohol." He rolled his eyes, I couldn't help but chuckle. There was something charming about him, and the future promised me that it was going to allow me the chance to hear his songs. He didn't understand his own charm, his long brown hair and his hazel eyes drew me in, holding me captive. My mind unable to think of anything but him. He laughed nervously, shaking his head, pressing the cup to his mouth.
"What do you do for a living?" He added at the end of his statement.

I forced myself to peel my gaze from his, looking around the motel room, eyes scanning every piece of my work. The unfinished stories, the sad poems, the briefcase that my Mom said was surgically attached to me. I laughed at that thought, "I work for an editing company, I sit in a room alone, attempting to edit. Instead I sit there and watch my door open about ten times a minute."

"How come that happens?" He asked curiously, leaning forwards.

"Because nobody can cope without my input. My boss calls me every hour to get an opinion on something. I never, ever get peace." I sighed, tipping the rest of the alcohol into my mouth, breathing in heavily as it stung the back of my throat.
He nodded, probably feeling sorry for me. His eyes seemed to say so. Again, I couldn't take my eyes away from his. It made the situation ten times awkward, but I couldn't help myself. They were so mesmerising, so full of sorrow- they were too pretty to be filled with so much sadness.

Making conversation for a few moments more, I noticed that he was experiencing the same feeling as me. He couldn't stop staring. I couldn't decide whether it was because I had hardly any clothes on, or because he liked me. I instantly shook the latter from my mind, knowing full well that that was a opinion feeling to have. Especially in this day and age. My recent realisations were beginning to become stronger parts of my personality, I knew this for sure when Mikey had pounced on me. My true self had begun to show itself through the cracks in my persona.

"Do you have any family?" He asked, as I handed him the almost empty whiskey bottle. I nodded, setting my glass down next to a large pile of screwed-up papers. All of them old poems.

"Yes, I have both of my parents, and uh- my brother. But he's not a fan of me anymore. I understand why, I'm not that likeable. That amongst other things too. But we used to be really close when we were little. How about you?" I said, tapping my fingers against the wall. The thought of Mikey made me angry- because he had been brainwashed by his peers, and upset- because he was my brother. He was meant to love me no matter what, now I was just about as valuable to him as a pile of dust.

"None of my family want to talk to me anymore. They told me this about a year or two ago. I had my mom and stepdad, two stepsisters. I was the youngest, and now I'm practically dead to them. I still see them about town, it's hard not to recognise them. They just ignore me no matter what." He shrugged, which was a little sad.

"Do you not miss them?" I asked with a frown, knowing that this question was risky. He could've gotten upset and stormed out of the room, or thrown his whiskey on me, but he didn't. He smiled, leaning forwards.

"Can you keep a secret?" He asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"Sure." I whispered back, leaning closer towards him, silently fighting the urge to lock lips with him.

"I'm gay." He said slowly, and all realisation hit me. Of course his family disowned him, I would have the same fate if my parents found out. They were understanding people, nothing in existence could upset them, but being in a situation like that would cause them to hate me more than they had ever imagined.
I said nothing, struggling to find the words to say. I didn't want to offend him, and I was reluctant to share the same feelings with him. He took this as a cue to leave, I ran after him.

"Please don't go." I said, trying not to sound as though I was begging.

"What do you mean?" He asked, turning around to face me. We were close, almost unbearably close.

"I-"
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Song Of The Chapter- Spelunking by Laura Veirs

A.N
Really into slow songs now, idk what's wrong with me ;) anyway, I FINALLY HAVE THE TIME TO UPDATE REGULARLY! WOO!

Lemme know what you think and don't forget to vote, it helps me out :3