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mainadjacent · 6 years ago

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Sticking to the Script (p.5)

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader, one-sided Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: You are the star of the hit TV show, “Winthrope Manor” and you’ve just got a new costar, Gwilym Lee who happens to bring around his friend, Ben Hardy, to set. You develop feelings for Ben, but they’re not well received. Lucky for you, your costar is there to help make things better.

Author’s Note: I am so sorry about how delayed this has been! I started a new job and the hours are long! Plus, I spend all day typing and looking at a computer so when I get back that not necessarily what I want to be doing. But! This is the longest chapter to date @ 3.6k!! I really did enjoy writing this too!

Warnings: Light swearing and some (fake) injury description.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

PART 5

“So, Lucy’s birthday is coming up,” Gwil says nonchalantly as he digs into a cardboard container of lo mein, his legs selfishly stretched out on your too-small couch.

“Yeah?” You ask, placing a bottle of wine and more takeout boxes down on the coffee table and unceremoniously push Gwil’s long legs off your couch to plop down next to him. It’s the ninth time this month that the two of you have ended up at your apartment after filming—the first being after your weird ice cream-fueled apology session.

“She’s having a party next Saturday,” Gwil throws his legs over yours and instead of protesting you prop your takeout box onto his knee, “and she asked me to invite you.” This last bit he says as he swipes the eggroll that your holding.

You send him an annoyed look, “Yeah, that sounds fun. We should probably go shopping for a present this weekend then.”

“We can make a day of it then,” Gwil says, his eyes trained on the reruns of “The Office” that you have up on your tv, “go get brunch?”

“Yeah! We can go to that place with the bottomless mimosas,” you respond excitedly.

Gwil chuckles at your enthusiasm, “You Americans love getting shitfaced in the middle of the day, don’t you?”

You stick your tongue out in response. “I didn’t hear you complaining last weekend at brunch.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he makes a point of rolling his eyes while he casually throws his arm around you and gently pulls you closer. You instinctually lean in and rest your temple on his shoulder. It’s become natural, to find yourself in this type of positions with Gwil lately.

Things have been like this for a while—the two of you would spend casual time together on set—almost like what it was like before your odd row—but now the two of you spending time together outside of work. You would often end up at your apartment after shorter shoots or out together on the weekends. It was nice, having someone to spend time with.

This, of course, everyone on set had been bugging the two of you about the status of your relationship and while this was annoying the easiest part about defining your relationship was that there really was no need to. When one of your cast members—usually the more obnoxious ones—would ask about you and Gwil you would just shrug, and not in an elusive way, you just had nothing to say. The two of you were definitely not dating and you didn’t think you were in love with him: Gwil didn’t make you nervous to be around; you didn’t spend hours agonizing about what to say to him; you weren’t ever embarrassed to speak your mind around Gwil. If sometimes you felt inclined to cuddle on the couch, you were not really inclined to think too hard about it.

You thought part of the reason you weren’t too inclined about looking into your relationship with Gwil was that you kind of already had one: Edmund’s and Violet’s courtship was going strong. There was never really a need to look into exploring the tumultuous territory of an almost-relationship because the two of you already had a perfectly scripted and rehearsed one. You could just sit back and enjoy Netflix and takeout instead. Relationships were overrated anyway.

Gwil didn’t seem too bothered by it either. At first, you had thought spending time after his weird bar storm-out would have been…awkward. But, honestly after getting past that first uncomfortable evening, everything sort of fell into place.

“I got your favorite,” Gwil held up two pints of ice cream as you open the door of your apartment.

“Great, thanks,” you respond in a way that doesn’t quite sound genuine. The two of you stand awkwardly at the threshold to your apartment. You’re pretty sure letting him in is like making a commitment you might not be able to keep but staringrring at you expectantly, so you gesture for him to come inside.

“This is my place,” you motion around weakly to your unkempt apartment, “sorry I didn’t have time to clean, I wasn’t, um, expecting anyone.”

“Quite alright,” he walks further into your living room, “you should see my place.”

You smile tightly in response and try not to think too much about whether or not that’s an actual invitation.

You awkwardly showed Gwil to the couch and fetch some spoons before lowering yourself gently next to him, making sure to keep a wide berth between the two of you.

“Hi.”

Gwil silently handed you your pint of ice cream and your rolled it between your hands thoughtfully.

“So, listen,” you started off, slowly, “I know you said there was nothing else for you to say back there in the parking lot but, I honestly think I deserve a better explanation for what happened that night than what you gave me. I mean, not that I didn’t appreciate what you said back there because I did, like a lot! It’s just—”

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry,” Gwil said earnestly, and something about his tone made you want to look away. He takes a deep breath.

“Listen, I was drunk that night and I’m sorry about that, I truly am. I guess the problem was that I was insecure about your relationship with Ben. I thought you only wanted to spend time with me because of him. The thing is I like you and I didn’t want that to be the only reason we spent time together. But that night, we were having such a good time and I finally began believing that we were genuine friends… and then you mention Ben and that hurt my feelings a bit, but that’s not your problem! You’re not responsible for making me feel good about myself, I was embarrassed about how hurt I was about the whole thing, so I didn’t mention it before. I guess you can say I’ve mucked it all up, though. If you don’t want me to stay that’s fine,” Gwil rose abruptly, “You can keep the ice cream—”

“Gwil!” you found yourself exclaiming, “you don’t need to leave. It’s okay.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Gwil responded weakly.

“No really, lets watch some tv or something,” you patted the seat next to you.

“I appreciate you telling me the truth,” you said, when you still see Gwil wavering. “You don’t have to lie to me though, remember?”

He smiled weakly down at you. “Right. So, you’re not mad?”

“Nah,” you said, “as long as you promise: no more lies.”

“No more lies then.”

___________

The next Saturday, you find yourself in your apartment again, this time, alone while getting ready for Lucy’s party. You’re nervous, for some reason and you’ve spent twenty minutes staring at yourself in the mirror, tugging at your dress. It was new, and you had bought it the Saturday before while you and Gwil were hunting around for Lucy’s birthday presents. You had spotted the black number in one of the vintage boutiques you had visited that day, and completely fell in love. You ended up buying it even though the price tag was a bit steeper than you were used to. Probably because Gwil had insisted you would look great in it and you had quite a few mimosas at that point. You really like it, but it felt like a bit too much, a bit too daring.

You consider changing into one of your other dresses, something you’re more comfortable in, but before you can make up your mind, you phone chimes with a text from Gwil. He’s waiting for you outside your apartment.

You grab your coat and race downstairs, your nerves thrumming and you don’t know why. The second you slide into Gwil’s car, you can tell there’s something wrong by the way he’s tensely gripping the steering wheel.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have something to tell you and if you don’t want to go that’s fine, I completely understand. If you want to go to the movies or something, maybe we can—”

“Gwil, just tell me what’s going on,” you sigh exasperatedly.

“Ben is going to be at the party tonight.”

“Oh.”

Oh. Oh.

You hadn’t really considered this as a possibility even though it was very likely that Ben was going to be at the party tonight. After all, he was Lucy’s friend too. Your mind had just been too preoccupied with other things to even mull over that possibility.

“Like I said, I can call Lucy and tell her you fell ill or something.”

“No, Gwil, really, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you respond, and both you and Gwil are surprised at the honesty of your answer, “I’m not pumped to see him, but we should be there. You know, for Lucy and remember how long we spent finding that purse? Let’s just go and have a good time.”

Gwil seemed tentative about what to do, but thankfully, he didn’t push it and the two of you spent the rest of the ride over to Lucy’s talking lightly about work and other topics that aren’t Ben. You’re grateful Gwil doesn’t prod.

Despite of how nonplussed you originally felt about the reality of seeing Ben when Gwil first mentioned it, as you climb the stairs up to Lucy’s apartment, you feel your stomach jerk with a certain sense of dread that reaches its zenith as you’re standing in front of Lucy’s door. Gwil seems to sense your trepidation because he looks down at you with a concerned look on his face before reaching out and taking your hand. You’re a bit surprised by this but it seems to serve its intended purpose because you feel yourself washed over by calm. You smile weakly and squeeze his hand as if to let him know that it’s okay to knock.

Lucy and Rami answer almost immediately and they both exclaim a very enthusiastic greeting. You can tell they’re already drunk. You hand falls from Gwil’s, your private moment broken.

Lucy pulls you enthusiastically to the packed living room and while you spot some familiar faces—Joe waves at you encouragingly, almost as if he knows that something is going on and he pities you—but most people are strangers. No Ben.

Lucy shows you to the kitchen and insists on pouring you a drink while you drop of the present you and Gwil got her in a growing pile. Lucy hands you a drink and you gulp it down a little too eagerly it would seem because she asks, “Is everything okay?”

You nod briskly and ask for another drink instead of offering any further explanation.

Before Lucy can prod—and you can tell she wants to prod—there is another knock at the door and she disappears off to answer it. In her absence you pour yourself another drink. You finish that one and pour one more.

“Woah there poppet, the party’s just getting started,” Gwil says as he comes up behind you, “You’re already two drinks in and I know for a fact Rami makes them strong. You’re not looking to get pissed are you?”

“I was making this one for you,” you smile sweetly and hand him the drink. He grins back appreciatively even though you’re pretty sure he knows your lying.

“Are you okay? You know, it’s still not too late to fake an illness,” Gwil asked, concerned.

“No, I’m fine. Besides, we can’t leave! Lucy would be so disappointed!”

Just as Gwil is about to protest further, Joe pops into the kitchen and in the midst of getting a beer informs the two of you that Ben has arrived. You exchanged a harried look with Gwil.

You don’t have time to even consider faking an illness before you spot Ben being ushered into the kitchen by Lucy. Your hand finds Gwil’s once more, as if on its own accord and the action does not go unnoticed by all those packed into Lucy’s tiny kitchen.

Gwil greats Ben enthusiastically and while Ben actively responds, you can feel his eyes flicking back to you and to the hand you have entwined with Gwil. You suddenly drop Gwil’s hand hotly under Ben’s gaze.

“Hi,” you say, suddenly bold.

“Hi,” Ben responds, seemingly taken aback.

“How are you?”

“I’m doing well. How’s ‘Winthrope’?”

“Great! We’ve almost got Meryl Streep on board,” you respond lamely.

“That’s… great.”

Lucy seems to sense the tension because she quickly interjects and offers to show you some painting in the living room you were interested in seeing. You gratefully take this as a chance to leave.

The rest of the party you spend on edge, trying to avoid Ben but making small talk when necessary. After a couple more drinks, it gets substantially easier and you can feel yourself loosening up.

The next time you accidently end up positioned next to Ben you don’t even shy away from his gaze. You feel yourself growing bolder as you hold an actual conversation with him for the first time since he disappeared. The conversation is cut relatively short, though, as Rami pulls an elaborate flower-covered cake from the kitchen and leads the party through a sloppy rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. Lucy is blushing madly as she blows out the candles and distribute the cake while Joe, Gwil, and Rami freestyle a birthday rap for her. It’s painful to watch, no doubt, but you’re struck at how close you feel to the others in this moment. You are hit with a feeling of endearment as you see the boys making fools of themselves. Watching Gwil especially, makes your heart stir a bit unexpectedly and you are overwhelmed with the realization of just how fond you are of him. Gwil catches you staring and flashes a smile in response and your heart leaps and in that instant things get infinitely more complicated. In that moment, you realize, you like Gwil. Like really, properly, like him.

Oh.

Your head is swimming and you’re not sure if it’s because of all the alcohol or because of this sudden revelation. Either way, you are overwhelmed with the urge to get out of the cramped apartment. You rush to the door as stealthily as possible, trying not to pull any attention from the birthday girl. You maintain calm as you exit but as soon as you’re on the other side of Lucy’s door you break out into a sprint until you’re outside the building, sitting on the sidewalk. You take a moment to collect yourself as best as you can, but you can feel your head spinning.

You don’t know how long you’re sitting, there with your head in your hands, when suddenly you hear someone call your name. At first, you think you’re imaging it but then it’s called again, and you turn behind you. Ben is standing at the entrance of the apartment building a cigarette dangling from his lips staring at you with what could pass for concern in his eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asks once he realizes he has your attention.

“Yeah, just needed some fresh air.”

You think that that might have been the end of the conversation, but to your surprise, Ben plops down next to you and offers a cigarette. You politely decline.

“You know, I’m glad you and Gwil are together. I knew I did the right thing.”

What do you mean?” you question a seemingly drunk Ben.

“Well, I stopped talking to you, because I knew how much you and Gwil liked each other and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“What do you mean?” you demand, your head once again swimming, but this time for different reasons. How could Ben know about your feelings for Gwil when you’re just figuring them out yourself.

“Well, yeah, when I saw you two do that first scene together, I knew that Gwil had feelings for you and that you weren’t too far behind. Shame really, I liked you.”

“Ben,” your head snaps to look at him, “you ghosted me because you thought that Gwil and I were interested in each other? Even though you liked me?”

Ben nods severely like he’s admitting that what he did was incredibly noble.

You feel yourself being overwhelmed with anger, “Ben you don’t get to make that choice for me! I liked you right back and you just ghosted me—which was not cool by the way—instead of actually being straight with me. I wanted to be with you and you took that choice away from me. I like Gwil but I also liked you.”

And in a move that surprises even yourself, you storm off.

TAGS: @xbarrjallenx @alexfayer @chlobo6 @softbenhardy

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