DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gale or Randy. I think we all know that. This is for entertainment purposes only. I do not claim to know whether any facts mentioned in this story are actually true. As far as I know, Simon and Randy are a happy, healthy, loving couple. Any references to anything different are purely fictional. 

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Gale's POV - June, 2002

I shouldn’t be staring. People might really start wondering what’s going on between us. Not that they don’t already, but Randy and I have done a fairly decent job hiding our relationship from anyone else who might be interested. Well, when there was something to hide. 

He can feel my eyes burning into him and he keeps shifting in his seat, throwing sideways glances my way, trying to figure out exactly what I’m doing. It’s too bad I have no fucking idea. All I know is that seeing him there, flirting and smiling and giving that fucking Simon something to be smug about is raking my nerves. He’s been hanging around for a couple of months, coming up on weekends and I wonder how serious things really are. The petty, jealous part of me can’t help wondering if they’ve fucked. It’s not exactly like I can ask Randy.

Simon knew Randy was the big catch around here. He knew it when he interviewed him, the way all the guys seem to flock around, trying to grab Randy’s attention… even if only for a night. Simon wasn’t any different, and I can’t say I blame him. What these guys don’t realize, though, and I guess what Simon is figuring out, is that Randy isn’t like that. He’s not one for casual fucks or even semi-casual relationships. When he falls, it’s all the way. I should know. That’s why I ended things before they went too far. Well, before they could go any further.

Worst fucking mistake of my life.

I had him. In all ways possible and some that were maybe close to impossible. But that’s another subject entirely. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I was determined not to let it happen, but before I knew it, we were hanging out, spending most of our free time together. Which led to unexpected make-out sessions during our normal ‘movie nights’ at his place or mine, that soon became just an excuse for more things to happen. Once we began fucking, I knew I was in trouble. 

I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted him all the fucking time. I needed to be near him, within touching distance… it was a craving I’d never felt before. It scared the fuck out of me. Hiding things on set was starting to become more and more difficult and I was positive that everyone could see right through us. Right through me. It may have been all right, maybe even easier to hide if it had just been physical. Easier to turn on and off when we weren’t alone somewhere… just the two of us behind closed doors where we could be ourselves. But we both knew that wasn’t what was happening between us. There was more… much more. There were real feelings, real emotions. And that was impossible given our situation. 

Two months ago, I broke his heart, while shredding my own into a million pieces along with our relationship. I used every lame excuse I could think of… our working together, the constant worry that someone would find out, the no-fucking clause in our contracts, which we’d managed to conveniently ignore. The clause put together to keep things like this from happening in the first place. Break-ups can be awkward anyway, but awkward doesn’t come close to describing what happens when you have to work together, when you have to pretend… And I think they knew that. When they signed us, I guess they thought there was a real possibility of the actors getting too close. Fuck, with what we’re doing, how’s it possible not to? 

But the biggest blow came when I told him I wasn’t interested in being with him and only him. Straight out of the Brian Kinney handbook, I confessed to needing more. I didn’t want to be tied down in a claustrophobic relationship, not able to sample whatever else comes my way. That’s exactly what I told him. And that’s when I knew I ‘d gone too far. 

That’s when I realized how untrue that statement really was. If I could have admitted it to myself, the real problem was that I was terrified of what I was feeling. I needed him, depended on him. Fuck it. I was… am in love with him. And I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t usually let myself get too attached to other people. It’s not in my nature. But he snuck in and I knew immediately I was lost. 

So now things are strained. I know I hold back and I’m well aware that Randy does too. Unfortunately, my cowardess… my fuck-up has left us distant and unsure, carrying over to our characters. We’ve ruined the chemistry… the easiness of Brian and Justin. People notice, but no one has had the balls to actually say it out loud. I wouldn’t know what to say if they asked.

We’ve only just begun talking again, somewhat uncomfortably… yet talking just the same. I’m waiting, letting things settle before approaching him with what could be either the final straw in our relationship, or a life altering decision. I guess it all depends on what he wants. I know what I want. I’m hoping it isn’t too late to fix this… to convince him I’m really willing to ignore everything and everyone. I just want to love him. That’s it. That’s all I want. I want him back.

He’s never stayed with anyone for too long. A few weeks, months maybe… but then they’re gone and I’m always here. This Simon guy won’t be any different. He seems too pompous and serious for Randy anyway. Not his type at all. I give it three months… tops. When Simon is gone, I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him I made a mistake and that we’ve wasted too much time. I’ll tell him I love him. I’ll wait, because he’s worth it. He’s worth everything.