This chapter was inspired by the song 'The Love Club' by Lorde.

The Love Club

Gilbert sat on top of his desk and nudged one of his 'friends' with the toe of his left boot. He twisted an unlit cigarette between two fingers before tucking it behind his ear. He laughed, and it was an unpleasant sound.

He was surrounded by a crowd of students jostling for his attention, like children reaching for their mothers, and it was pathetic. He kicked another person, a little harder, but no one spoke up.

He could get away with murder, if he wanted.

Gilbert turned his attention to the window. It was raining.

Someone ran their fingers over the hem of his dark jeans, worshipping him, and he took it as his due. He was popular. That was the whole point.

He had wanted attention in his junior year and a bit of fast talking and whoring had propelled him to the top of the social ladder. Now he was the centre of the fucking universe and he despised it.

He had everything he had ever wanted.

Well, almost everything.

Matthew walked past the classroom, clutching a text book to his chest. Gilbert met his eyes and swallowed the all-too-familiar guilt burning inside him.

They had been best friends, childhood sweethearts. Had been. Gilbert had dropped Matthew in his search for popularity; he had stepped on him just to get that little bit further. He had wrecked Matthew, chewed him up and spit him out, for something that did not even make him happy.

He was an idiot.

Matthew paused and stared at him. His eyes were deep, deeper than the sea, and sad. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve. That was one of the reasons Gilbert had to ditch him; he was too soft, too gentle. There was no way he could have made the arduous climb to popularity. He actually cared about other people.

That, and… Well, if anyone knew that he was bisexual, that he kissed boys, well, that would be it. Matthew was homosexual, and out. And people noticed.

He just would have dragged Gilbert down. He would have exposed him.

"Keep moving, fag!" One of the students cried, crumpling up a piece of paper and throwing it at Matthew. It bounced off his shoulder.

The rest of the crowd tittered and threw insults that hurt more than a simple piece of paper ever could; the slurs cut and bruised his soul and Matthew bled innocence.

"No one wants you here, dumbass!"

"Shouldn't you be bent over the teacher's desk, queer?"

"You're disgusting."

But Matthew did not blink; he did not even pay attention to the other students. He stared at Gilbert.

Twelve years. They had been best friends for twelve years. They had been lovers for three.

Matthew knew his darkest secrets and greatest fears. Matthew had held his hand when his mother left. He had cleaned his wounds the first time his father hit him, and every time after that.

He had not laughed when Gilbert wet the bed at age eight. He had not laughed when he did it again at age ten.

They had done everything together. Gilbert had taught Matthew how to ride a bicycle; Matthew had shown him how to bake cookies. Matthew learnt to carry bandages for his many bruises; Gilbert had learnt to carry tissues to wipe his tears. He had learnt how to read his silences, and the difference between companionable and awkward silences.

They had snuck out after bedtime. They had climbed up onto the roof.

They had done things they were not supposed to do.

And when they finally made love, it was beautiful and embarrassing, with too much tongue and not enough lubrication. It had been messy and hilarious; it had been wonderful and breathtaking.

Matthew had been the centre of his universe for years, just as he was now for strangers who did not really matter. Popularity was lonelier than he had thought.

Matthew just looked at him as the students continued to shout obscenities, as if he were the only person in the whole world.

Then he sighed and walked away.

Gilbert felt his heart wrench and throb. The crowd around him hissed and jeered, waving at the blonde and raising their middle fingers in salute.

"Good riddance!"

"Cocksucker."

"Sit on this!"

Gilbert watched him disappear, feeling empty. Popularity had not solved his problems; it had not magically given his life purpose. The drugs and alcohol had not erased his father's abuse. The easy girls had not somehow replaced his mother, and he did not want them anyway.

He wanted Matthew. He wanted to make love, not have sex.

Gilbert stood up on the desk; his decision made. He kicked one of the students in the head, the one who had thrown the piece of paper at Matthew.

"Dude," the student growled, clutching his head. "What was that for?"

"You're an asshole," Gilbert shrugged and took a step down unto the seat, "and I'm done with this."

"Fuck you. Done with what?"

"This," Gilbert gestured to the group, "All of this. You."

"So, what? You're just leaving?"

"Yes. And you're all idiots to stay. I've had enough of this."

The crowd sniggered and squirmed. Some of the students seemed confused, or ashamed. Others just seemed angry.

"Where are you going to go?"

Gilbert pointed in the direction Matthew had gone. He took another step down onto the floor.

"I'm going to go find Matthew and apologize. And then I'm going to screw his brains out."

The classroom was silent as he moved to the door, the rest of the crowd too shocked by his admission to say anything. Someone found their voice just as he reached the doorframe.

"So you're a fucking queer too?" He made a gagging sound. "I should've known. Fine then, take it up the ass and see if we care, but don't come back, pussy!"

Gilbert smiled wryly at them, wondering how he could ever have thought they were worth Matthew. They would never hold a candle to him. They were pathetic.

"Gladly," Gilbert promised, closing the door behind him and hurrying down the corridor. He hoped that he was not too late to catch Matthew.

He slammed into the front door and stumbled down the steps. The rain was cold. It pasted his pale hair to his forehead and dripped down the back of his neck.

He swept his gaze over the lawn and found Matthew standing next to the flagpole. His eyes were turned to the heavens and he was soaked from head to toe. He was still clutching the text book and the pages were warped and water damaged; it would never be the same.

Gilbert sucked in a breath and made his way over to Matthew. He shook off his leather jacket and settled it on his shoulders. Matthew kept his eyes trained on the sky.

"I'm a dick, and I'm sorry," he said. "Can you forgive me?"

Matthew glanced at him.

"That depends. What are you sorry for?"

"For abandoning you. For leaving you. For trying to forget you."

Matthew hummed.

"Will you miss it? Will you miss being popular?"

"Not as much as I missed you."

Matthew smiled at him then and kissed him on the cheek. As always, he was too kind and caring and forgiving. Gilbert swallowed the lump in his throat.

Someone whistled and howled at them. They ignored it.

"Welcome back, Gilbert."

"… Thank you."

"But you owe me, eh?"

"Anything."

Matthew laughed, soft and gentle. He threaded their fingers together, holding his right hand, and gave Gilbert his sodden text book.

"Well then, you can start by carrying my books. C'mon," Matthew tightened his grasp on his hand and Gilbert squeezed back, happily taking the text book in his other hand. "Let's go home."

Author's Notes:

Oh em gee. This is chapter fifty. (And that rhymed…) Not only that, but we've passed the five hundred mark for reviews. I want to thank everyone who has contributed to that number, and to everyone who has encouraged me on this journey. It means the world to me. I know I cannot always write back but I want you to know that I appreciate the reviews and the well wishes. I love you guys.

By the way, please feel to resubmit any requests you have for songs if I have not touched them yet. My cat ate my list. (I wish that was just an excuse…) Please include song title and artist. Except for you, Odisdera-kun! I know that you've asked twice and the song is on my playlist. I haven't forgotten, I swear!

This was a little sad, though not as sad as the last chapter, but it was meaningful. Important. I was lucky in high school in that half of my friends were gay or bisexual and the other half were straight. (I, myself, identify as pansexual, in case you were wondering.) We never had any problems. But even at that same high school, I knew people who could be this cruel. A sometimes friend of mine was teased mercilessly, usually by groups of young males with nothing better to do. They went out of their way to be cruel and it always surprised me.

Remember, you do not have to be liked by everybody as long as there is somebody who likes you just the way you are.

Also, Matthew is going to have Gilbert happily wrapped around his little finger for quite some time.