After the Last Midtown Show

I watched as he fluttered effortlessly across that stage.

The more he danced, the more closely I watched. I studied his movements, and got drunk off the way he moved. The way those spectacularly skinny fit jeans of his clung to those long legs every time he woul pivot and grind into the air...

He was almost as skinny as a stick figure, but damn were his curves intoxicating.

The longer I watched, the harder it became to distinguish whether it's the Grey Goose martini that I'm drinking, or if it's simply him that's making my heart beat a little faster. The sweat starts to build on my forehead, and I can feel my own skinny fit jeans begin to feel just a little bit too tight.

I sighed, setting my glass down on the bar in front of me as the realization that this is becoming a constant occurance.... whenever I'm watching William, he always seems to have this effect on me.

Whether I'm watching as he's on stage, or I'm watching him as he's staring up at me while I'm on stage, or he's on the floor laughing at my ridiculous antics, or he's in bed next to me because he "had a bad dream and didn't want to sleep alone" - William Beckett has always had this effect on me.

And it pissed me off.

So pissed off that I tried whatever I could to shake the feeling off, or try to make him get out of my head, out of my thoughts... out of my bed.

Those are the only places William tends to be these days; plaguing my head, or my thoughts. And most nights, you can find him taking up about 75% of the space that is my bed, stealing my covers because he insists on keeping my amazingly lavish apartment absolutely freezing. I can almost bet that he does that just so I'll cuddle up next to him.

I did it happily though. For a stick figure, he did make an incredibly comfortable pillow.

Shaking my head at the things that William Beckett and I always play with each other, I tilted my head back and finished the remainder of my vodka martini. Seeing as this was my fourth one in the past hour, the warm and fuzzy feeling in my stomach was pretty adamant.

I'm pretty sure that it's a good combination of both the booze and the William that's making me feel all warm, and tingly, and downright annoyed.

I hate this feeling, I really do.

"Hey barkeep!"

I shouted loudly at the incredibly good looking woman across the V.I.P. bar, and smirked as I got her attention. According to her name tag, her name was Tammi. Not like it really mattered.

"Gimme another one, sweetheart," I told her, smacking my glass down on the counter right in front of her.

Amazingly, it made a pretty decent sounding tap, which was pretty impressive amongst the blaring music and obnoxiously loud chatter that was going on around me.

"Coming right up, Mr. Saporta."

I leaned back on my lounge chair, and couldn't help but glance back towards the direction of the stage.

William was all over the place, as usual. The way he glided across it with that microphone in one hand, and everyone else in his other, he really did own that fucking stage.

His angel voice had this way of wrapping itself around everyone's hearts and squeezed them until there was nothing left. His moves left you mesmerized. It really should be illegal to move the way that he does, so scandalous yet so innocently.

But that was William, that's just what he did. He was the biggest fucking tease on the planet.

"Here you go sir, would you like me to put this on your tab?"

"Why yes, Tammi, I would," I shot her a smile once I turned to face her, grabbing my drink from it's napkin sanctuary.

I took the stick full of olives out, and placed it in my mouth as I once again turned my attention to the intoxicating view that's made me want to scream and claw my eyes out night after night. Being on tour with The Academy Is... was always torture for me. I got along pretty well with the band as a whole, but... their lead singer had this way of getting up and under my skin. Watching William on stage was like watching one of those terribly good horror movies - you just couldn't look away.

"Oh, did I mention when I see you it stings like hell...?"

He met my gaze. He smirked.

"To the fact that we could have something... that'll never happen?

I sucked one of the olives into my mouth, and smirked back at him. Now that I think about it, William always seemed to seek me out when he sang certain parts of certain songs, but then again, that's just William.

That's just what he does.

And now, as I continue to watch him while sipping my dirty martini, my heart continues to beat just the slightest little bit faster. A bead of sweat actually drips off my forehead, and I am left with a serious problem in my pants from simply watching him.

I shut my eyes and forced myself to look away. I downed the rest of my liquid concoction of mixed emotions and top helf liquor and placed a $100 bill down on the table. Seeing as Tammi was busy flirting with a douche bag of a man at the opposite end of the bar, I didn't have time to wait for my change.

I just needed to get the hell out of there before The Academy Is... finishes their set.

Before William gets the chance to come find me and ask if it's 'okay' for him to crash at my place again.

Before I did something I regret.

Like, take Will home with me.

I flew out the double doors that led me out toward the parking lot, and automatically felt lost because I'd forgotten where I had parked. I reached in my jacket pocket for my keys, and froze in my tracks as I realized they weren't there.

I flashed back to my previous rendezvous at the bar, and could practically see them sitting there on the counter next to the extra large tip I had left for Tammi the bartender. Dammit. I had been in such a rush to escape, I'd forgotten the one thing that I actually needed in order to get home.

I couldn't help but laugh at how comical this whole situation was turning out to be.

As I turned back towards the club's entrance, I had to lean up against the wall to hold myself up. I had already started to feel the effects that those martinis were having on me, and my head was now spinning more than ever.

Focus, Gabe, I said to myself, pausing to take a deep breath. Go inside and get your fucking keys so you can get the hell out of here.

Trying to collect myself the best I could, I exhaled deeply, and sauntered my way back into the club. Midway back to the V.I.P lounge, I cringed.

I couldn't hear William singing anymore. This meant that their set was finished. The urgency to get out of here was growing by the second, and I was acting on borrowed time.

I practically flew over to the private bar, and saw Tammi grinning and laughing, probably chatting up another drunk bastard.

"Hey yo, Tammi," I slurred, as I finally reached the counter. "You haven't by any chance seen my..."

My voice trailed off as the person she was talking to finally turned around to face me, all smiles.

I'm pretty sure my heart actually stopped beating this time.

"Well hello Gabriel," he said in that sweet little voice of his, with a wide grin spread across that flawlessly perfect face of his. "Were you looking for these?"

There, dangling in William Beckett's bony fingers, were my keys.

I returned my attention to Tammi, and muttered, "Grey Goose Martini. Dirty."

This was going to be a long night.