Festive
mickilennial
Half Pint
Qia
Melissa
webboysurf
Supermaxx
Nemaisare
Aeolian
G I L E M O R Y G A L A H A D
Location: The Beach - Pacific Royal Campus
Welcome Home #1.040: First-Date Certified
Interaction(s): All //
Amma made Gil nervous, but not nervous enough not to dance dangerously close in flirting. He certainly recognised the short chuckle she proffered, as well as the lingering, deliberate sweep of her gaze up and down his body. He smirked, not un-used to this kind of attention, never getting tired of it regardless.
"Well, you certainly have plenty to spare, don't you. Gil."
"And yet there never seems to be enough of me to go around..." Gil replied, offering a subtle wink to go with his remark.
Further flirtation was summarily interrupted by Katja's signature greeting; she scooped both Gil and Harper up, one arm each still far more than necessary, and the three squeezed together in a blend of skin and smells on this sunny afternoon. Harper shifted in the embrace - was that her hand brushing against his? - and Gil sympathised, feeling like the well-loved puppy in a toddler's arms, well-meaning but uncomfortable. He decided to hold to his breath and appreciate the intention of the gesture, rather than its physical consequences.
“I missed seeing all of you.” Katja said, her strong voice amplified by its proximity to Gil's ear, before she set them both down and regarded the pair with warm eyes, an arm resting on each of their shoulders. “It’s been so long, we have so much to discuss. And so much to look forward to of course! Like the dance! Have the two of you found someone for the dance yet?”
"And you, Kat, though I can't say my spine can agree." He joked, giving her a playful shove that felt like pushing a brick wall, and hurt his wrist without Katja even budging a nanometer. Harper answered her before he could.
"To be honest, I haven't given much thought to the dance yet," she admitted, her voice soft but steady. "I've been so focused on other things that it kind of slipped my mind."
“I feel you on that one, sis. We’ve got a lot of things on our plates, so I totally understand forgetting about it. You shouldn’t worry though. A cute girl like you will find a date in no time! If you don’t then I’ll take you to the dance, and you don’t want that now do you?” Katja said with a playful wink.
“Thanks, Kat,” Harper replied with a short laugh. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but honestly, I'm not too worried about finding a date. There's more to life than dances, right?”
There was a gap, and Gil took the opportunity to insert himself.
"I'm the same; no partner yet. You've gotta keep your options open, y'know? Besides, I'd hate to disappoint any die-hard fans." He grinned, playing the question off like good-natured banter, but there was a knife's edge of truth; he would genuinely have to discuss the optics of a Capital-D 'Date' with Artie, ruminate on the implications of being 'off-the-market'. Gil was well-aware of what particular corners of Tumblr and the website formally known as Twitter could get like these days. He couldn't risk hurting his public image this close to graduation and his return to LA. He couldn't go back to Bristol to be stifled and smothered and moulded into some number-crunching suit.
In his peripheral vision, Harper shifted her weight from one side to the other. Gil didn't pay it much attention.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll make the right choice when the time comes, Gil," Harper said, offering a small smile. “As for me, I’ll probably just go with the flow. And… right now I think I could use a drink.”
Harper excused herself in the direction of Rory's cooler, and Gil suddenly felt very small beneath Katja's towering frame.
“Well, not everyone has the luxury of an adoring fanbase.” She said curtly, giving his shoulder a forceful pat that appeared friendly but felt admonishing. Her gaze had the subtlest hint of a reprimanding frown to it. “But I’m sure you’ll manage.”
And then Katja excused herself as well, and Gil turned to realise Amma had wandered away too, and he was alone.
As the day moved on and the sun began to wane in the sky, Blackjack drifted on and off the beach, eventually reconvening around a campfire built by Lorcán. One by one, the members of the team settled themselves in a ring around the roaring embers, Gil himself shuffling a little closer to push his hands towards the heat; as the sun set across the oceanic horizon, he regretted not returning to the dorms, as some of the others had, to fetch something a bit warmer. He'd buttoned up his shirt, the time for artful display of abs far gone, but still found the evening chill worming its way to his bones.
Lorcán, ever the social glue between much of the team, prompted the evening's discussion, opting for that most nerve-racking of topics: the future.
“Alright gentle-dudes and lady-brahs, where does everyone see themselves once they graduate?”
Calliope had sat down next to Gil, and then Banjo had inserted himself between them. Gil ignored them both - not the malicious, deliberate kind, just simple neutrality, their appearances here as unremarkable as anyone else's - though he did notice Banjo staring and grinning at him for an extended amount of time. Gil was used to Banjo mouthing off, or playing pranks, or finding more general, ostentatious ways to irritate the group; he wasn't used to Banjo just being plain weird. He cleared his throat and shuffled an inch or two closer to the fire, wondering if Calliope found Banjo's behaviour as odd as everyone else did. Probably not. She didn't strike Gil as having the patience for it if she did.
Banjo-brand peculiarity was quickly forgotten as the question circled the bonfire, each member of Blackjack offering their hopes and dreams into the flame. Gil noticed Aurora falling asleep on Lorcán's shoulder, and hoped his copy had offered some sage advice earlier that afternoon. He'd have to catch himself up separately with his friend later on. To his side, Rory and Haven also began cosying up, and between the pair of pairs and the twinkling sunset sparkling off the sea, Gil felt a sharp pang shoot through him, his hand reflexively reaching for his phone and his mind brought back to those damning messages from Elenora he'd gotten that morning. It was not an unfamiliar pang; but while less frequent than it had once been, it had lost none of its potency.
He found himself tuning back in as Amma thoroughly deflated the collective blue-sky optimism of his teammates with her 6-feet-under realism. There was a lull in the conversation, the mood thoroughly murdered. He cleared his throat.
"Well, as long as they still cast me when I get back to L.A., I think I can put up with the rest." He said, trying to flash a smile and bring levity back to the evening. "You're looking at the next official spokesperson for Cachou Lajaunie, packing a liquorice wallop for fresh beyond freshness. Providing I can get a weekend release, of course. And after graduation, Hollywood is my oyster."
Amma made Gil nervous, but not nervous enough not to dance dangerously close in flirting. He certainly recognised the short chuckle she proffered, as well as the lingering, deliberate sweep of her gaze up and down his body. He smirked, not un-used to this kind of attention, never getting tired of it regardless.
"Well, you certainly have plenty to spare, don't you. Gil."
"And yet there never seems to be enough of me to go around..." Gil replied, offering a subtle wink to go with his remark.
Further flirtation was summarily interrupted by Katja's signature greeting; she scooped both Gil and Harper up, one arm each still far more than necessary, and the three squeezed together in a blend of skin and smells on this sunny afternoon. Harper shifted in the embrace - was that her hand brushing against his? - and Gil sympathised, feeling like the well-loved puppy in a toddler's arms, well-meaning but uncomfortable. He decided to hold to his breath and appreciate the intention of the gesture, rather than its physical consequences.
“I missed seeing all of you.” Katja said, her strong voice amplified by its proximity to Gil's ear, before she set them both down and regarded the pair with warm eyes, an arm resting on each of their shoulders. “It’s been so long, we have so much to discuss. And so much to look forward to of course! Like the dance! Have the two of you found someone for the dance yet?”
"And you, Kat, though I can't say my spine can agree." He joked, giving her a playful shove that felt like pushing a brick wall, and hurt his wrist without Katja even budging a nanometer. Harper answered her before he could.
"To be honest, I haven't given much thought to the dance yet," she admitted, her voice soft but steady. "I've been so focused on other things that it kind of slipped my mind."
“I feel you on that one, sis. We’ve got a lot of things on our plates, so I totally understand forgetting about it. You shouldn’t worry though. A cute girl like you will find a date in no time! If you don’t then I’ll take you to the dance, and you don’t want that now do you?” Katja said with a playful wink.
“Thanks, Kat,” Harper replied with a short laugh. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, but honestly, I'm not too worried about finding a date. There's more to life than dances, right?”
There was a gap, and Gil took the opportunity to insert himself.
"I'm the same; no partner yet. You've gotta keep your options open, y'know? Besides, I'd hate to disappoint any die-hard fans." He grinned, playing the question off like good-natured banter, but there was a knife's edge of truth; he would genuinely have to discuss the optics of a Capital-D 'Date' with Artie, ruminate on the implications of being 'off-the-market'. Gil was well-aware of what particular corners of Tumblr and the website formally known as Twitter could get like these days. He couldn't risk hurting his public image this close to graduation and his return to LA. He couldn't go back to Bristol to be stifled and smothered and moulded into some number-crunching suit.
In his peripheral vision, Harper shifted her weight from one side to the other. Gil didn't pay it much attention.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll make the right choice when the time comes, Gil," Harper said, offering a small smile. “As for me, I’ll probably just go with the flow. And… right now I think I could use a drink.”
Harper excused herself in the direction of Rory's cooler, and Gil suddenly felt very small beneath Katja's towering frame.
“Well, not everyone has the luxury of an adoring fanbase.” She said curtly, giving his shoulder a forceful pat that appeared friendly but felt admonishing. Her gaze had the subtlest hint of a reprimanding frown to it. “But I’m sure you’ll manage.”
And then Katja excused herself as well, and Gil turned to realise Amma had wandered away too, and he was alone.
As the day moved on and the sun began to wane in the sky, Blackjack drifted on and off the beach, eventually reconvening around a campfire built by Lorcán. One by one, the members of the team settled themselves in a ring around the roaring embers, Gil himself shuffling a little closer to push his hands towards the heat; as the sun set across the oceanic horizon, he regretted not returning to the dorms, as some of the others had, to fetch something a bit warmer. He'd buttoned up his shirt, the time for artful display of abs far gone, but still found the evening chill worming its way to his bones.
Lorcán, ever the social glue between much of the team, prompted the evening's discussion, opting for that most nerve-racking of topics: the future.
“Alright gentle-dudes and lady-brahs, where does everyone see themselves once they graduate?”
Calliope had sat down next to Gil, and then Banjo had inserted himself between them. Gil ignored them both - not the malicious, deliberate kind, just simple neutrality, their appearances here as unremarkable as anyone else's - though he did notice Banjo staring and grinning at him for an extended amount of time. Gil was used to Banjo mouthing off, or playing pranks, or finding more general, ostentatious ways to irritate the group; he wasn't used to Banjo just being plain weird. He cleared his throat and shuffled an inch or two closer to the fire, wondering if Calliope found Banjo's behaviour as odd as everyone else did. Probably not. She didn't strike Gil as having the patience for it if she did.
Banjo-brand peculiarity was quickly forgotten as the question circled the bonfire, each member of Blackjack offering their hopes and dreams into the flame. Gil noticed Aurora falling asleep on Lorcán's shoulder, and hoped his copy had offered some sage advice earlier that afternoon. He'd have to catch himself up separately with his friend later on. To his side, Rory and Haven also began cosying up, and between the pair of pairs and the twinkling sunset sparkling off the sea, Gil felt a sharp pang shoot through him, his hand reflexively reaching for his phone and his mind brought back to those damning messages from Elenora he'd gotten that morning. It was not an unfamiliar pang; but while less frequent than it had once been, it had lost none of its potency.
He found himself tuning back in as Amma thoroughly deflated the collective blue-sky optimism of his teammates with her 6-feet-under realism. There was a lull in the conversation, the mood thoroughly murdered. He cleared his throat.
"Well, as long as they still cast me when I get back to L.A., I think I can put up with the rest." He said, trying to flash a smile and bring levity back to the evening. "You're looking at the next official spokesperson for Cachou Lajaunie, packing a liquorice wallop for fresh beyond freshness. Providing I can get a weekend release, of course. And after graduation, Hollywood is my oyster."
