Chapter Text
When he’s awoken by Pete’s phone alarm going off, the first sensation rising to Gabe’s consciousness is the ache of mediocre sex. “Turn that thing off,” he grunts, tugging at the blanket. “I wanna sleep in.”
“Sorry, I wanna catch breakfast this morning.” Pete rolls over and reaches over Gabe to grab his phone, turning off the alarm. He sits up and stretches his arms over his head, then presses a kiss to Gabe’s head. “Last night was amazing, baby.”
“Hm,” Gabe groans, burying his head into the pillow.
Pete leans toward his ear to whisper, “You should have breakfast–”
“Ew!” Gabe sits up, pushing him away. “You spat in my ear, Pete. Ugh.”
“Sorry. But goal accomplished, right? You’re awake, so let’s get breakfast. I am starving.”
Gabe sighs and unplugs his phone from the charger. “Fine.” He scrolls through his notifications, immediately noticing two missed calls from last night– one from Ryan, one from William. While Ryan tried to call him around midnight, William’s is from the odd time of 4 A.M.. Thoughts racing, Gabe immediately taps to call back, phone flying up to his ear.
Ring, ring, ring. Gabe releases the breath from his lungs when William picks up and exhaustedly drones, “Oh, hey. What’s up? It’s so early.”
“You tried to call me at four in the morning, are you okay?”
Overhearing this, Pete looks over curiously from the kitchenette where he’s putting a filter into the coffee machine. Gabe holds up a finger and glares to tell him, Don’t f*cking say anything until I’ve hung up, or you’ll regret it.
William yawns. “Oh, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. It’s just last night I wasn’t feeling too great, and I didn’t wanna wake up Sisky or Carden since they were so tired from the hike, so I figured since you didn’t go that I should call you. But then you didn’t answer and then my vomiting woke up Sisky anyway.”
“Bill, are you okay?”
“Fine now.”
“But what the hell was going on?”
“Okay.” William pauses for a moment, trying to gather a sentence from the jumble of tired thoughts. “So last night I was ravenous and tried eating more than I could handle– I don’t even think it was that much, it was just chicken in some kind of cream sauce with a side of grilled veggies. But I think that made my body freak out and I accidentally gave myself refeeding syndrome or something.”
“Bill!” Gabe hisses. “Are you sure you’re okay? You should really be seen by a doctor or something. Please tell me you went to a hospital.”
“I didn’t, but I’m fine now. Trust me, the guys really wanted to take me to one, so I was going to be okay either way. The symptoms weren’t really that bad, honestly. I just vomited, and I was shivering a little bit, and I had a hard time falling asleep because my heart was a little weird but that already happens to me so much anyway–”
“What do you mean by your heart being weird? Heart palpitations aren’t f*cking normal, dude.”
“I don’t know. They felt like normal heart palpitations to me.”
“Again, that. is not. Normal.”
“Maybe, I guess.” William yawns. “But I feel fine now, except for not getting that much sleep. I’ve been rehydrating, and if I wasn’t able to keep down a little water, Sisky and Carden would’ve dragged my ass out of this hotel and to a hospital. If it happens again this week I promise I’ll get checked out, okay?”
“I still don’t feel good after hearing all that, Bill.”
“It’s okay. I’m doing okay, really. You can trust me. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”
Gabe bites the inside of his cheek. Although he feels unnerved, he nods. “Okay. But please tell me if it gets worse. Even if you don’t feel worse but want to go to a doctor anyway, I’d go with you. I love you, man.”
“Thanks. I love you too.”
Gabe waits for him to say “dude” or “man,” to assert that this should really stay strictly platonic without room for reinterpretation, but it doesn’t come– instead, there’s several seconds of loaded silence that makes Gabe’s heart swell and his blood hot. Finally, he breaks it by saying, “I’ll see you later. And really, I mean it, tell me if you need anything.”
“I will, I will. Thanks.” William pauses. “Is he in the room?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s too bad. See you later… babe.”
William immediately hangs up, leaving Gabe’s stomach flooded by butterflies, his cheeks burning. What the hell is he thinking? The coffee machine is humming in pleased agreement. Pete looks up and asks too casually, “So, what was up?”
“Bill threw up last night.”
“Doesn’t he always do that?”
“Involuntarily.” Gabe adds, pushing away the bed sheets. He slides out of bed, rushing to his suitcase. “I think I’m going to get dressed and check on him.”
“You don’t really need to,” Pete states authoritatively. “I understand why you’re worried, but he has Carden and Sisky with him. You really need to eat breakfast before you go and do anything.”
Gabe frowns as the butterflies dissipate, confronted by the repellant of reality. “It wouldn’t take that long.”
“You didn’t eat dinner yesterday. You really should eat something this morning.”
Figuring it wouldn’t be smart to start yet another fight before he’s properly caffeinated, Gabe intones, “Fine,” and starts going though his suitcase for fresh clothes.
When the hum of the coffee machine switches off, Pete starts pouring coffee into a styrofoam cup. “Can I ask you something?”
Gabe is in the bathroom, dressed in a robe and reaching to turn the shower on. “What?”
“If you see Ryan, ask him what last night was all about. It was so weird, right? I mean, we gotta know what was going on. Like, wow.”
Gabe is glad to be in the bathroom, where Pete can’t see him roll his eyes. Of course there’s enough time to ask Ryan why he and Jon had a threesome with Mikey Way, but not to quickly check on deathly-anorexic William– it never was about breakfast, of course it wasn’t. Gabe could already tell, but at least Pete could have the decency to try being a little less obvious and a little more tactful. “Okay,” Gabe calls out, then switches on the water so the shower’s gurgles will cover anything else Pete has to say– it’s a favor the man doesn’t deserve, really.
Gabe makes it to the coffee bar before Pete; Gabe didn’t acquiesce to his fiance’s wishes to save water this morning, so Pete’s still in the shower. Ryan is already hunched over a cup of coffee, rubbing his eyes.
“Dude!” Gabe hisses, sitting down beside him.
“A ‘good morning’ would be nice,” Ryan replies.
“We need to talk about last night. What the hell happened?” Gabe demands. Then he turns to the barista attending the coffee bar. “Can I have a latte please? Thanks.”
While the barista busies himself with the espresso machine, Ryan takes a long sip of his coffee. Then he reaches into his pocket. “Okay, first of all, you’re welcome.” He slides out Gabe’s credit card and hands it back. “Second, Jon and I didn’t really expect it to go that way, but look, you said you love us, and I quote, ‘no matter what methods you choose.’”
Gabe shoves his credit card into his pocket and leans toward Ryan to whisper, “Look, I do appreciate you, of course, but I wasn’t telling you to have a threesome! I was not implying that– oh my gosh, did you think I was implying that?”
“No, no, of course not,” Ryan says, rather unconvincingly in Gabe’s opinion. “Let me explain: we took Mikey out and wined and dined him, exactly like we said we would. After a couple of drinks, nobody is sober, our judgment is impaired, y’know. Mikey’s being a little too nice, saying me and Jon are such a cute couple and a dynamic duo and what have you, and then he starts leaning into the flirting. Stuff like, saying ‘you’re the sexiest celebrity couple out there,’ and ‘monogamy is a societal construct, dude.’ Me and Jon are trying to pretend not to notice, and then Mikey’s getting a little close and we can smell the alcohol on his breath and suddenly his hand is on my knee and he’s saying that he wants us to rail him. So me and Jon step aside to talk, and we both decide it’s for the greater good, plus our younger selves would kill us for not having sex with Mikey Way. So we go back to the hotel, I think we’re making good time and text you that the coast is clear and we take a little longer in the elevator than necessary, because you said you probably wouldn’t be back for another hour. And then that whole elevator incident happened.”
Gabe blinks. “Okay, so you and Jon just casually discussed having a threesome with Mikey Way? And you both agreed to it?”
“Well, we have healthy communication skills. No offense. Also, we were all drunk.”
“What the hell?” Gabe mutters under his breath. “But you didn’t actually have a threesome, right? Like, I’m sure when the elevator doors and Pete and I saw you guys kissing, that totally killed the mood– right?”
“Will it make you feel better if I say no?”
“Oh my God,” Gabe says, and then repeats louder, “Oh my God.”
“I doubt you want the details, but he did come back to our room, and Mikey did get what he originally asked for. And Jon and I enjoyed it, no regrets.”
Gabe stares at him. “You railed Mikey Way?”
Ryan shakes his head. “Jon did, but let’s not get bogged down in the details. Enough about that. How’s things with you and Pete?”
Gabe’s stare remains fixed and silent. His expression wrenches up. Then, he bursts into tears. “I don’t know!”
“Holy sh*t, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t think–”
Gabe sniffles and sucks in a breath, trying to steel himself. “It’s not your fault.” He takes Ryan’s napkin and blows his nose. “It’s Pete’s own f*cking fault for getting turned on by it. I…” Trailing off, he leans closer to whisper, “I don’t think I want to marry him. This entire trip has been the worst ever start to a marriage. When I told him I wanted to check on Bill this morning, because last night he f*cking threw up after eating too much, Pete told me I should just go talk to you instead and ask about the threesome! Who the hell does that? And I think I’m falling in love with William again too– we’re both emotionally cheating on each other. All Pete and I do is fight and accuse each other of being unfaithful. I can’t live the rest of my life like this.”
Ryan nods sympathetically and places a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Look at me, dude. You don’t have to marry him.”
Gabe’s bottom lips trembles. “But it’s not as simple as that. We’ve spent nearly a million dollars on the wedding. We bought a house together. We’ve been together for years and we’re looking at surrogates and… it’s been so long, I can’t imagine life without him. He used to be an incredible partner, and that’s what I’m hanging onto.”
“But is it all worth it if you’re going to be miserable for the rest of your life?” Ryan asks. “Sure, a million dollar wedding isn’t exactly a drop in the hat for you, but imagine push comes to shove and you get divorced. Then what? It’ll be much more paperwork and money and frustration than if you called it off in the first place.”
“You’re right about that, but…” Gabe trails off. “It’s hard.”
“Divorce would be a lot harder. I don’t want to force you to make such a big decision, but… with everything you’ve told me, I think you already know the answer.”
Gabe nods. He knows very well that Ryan is absolutely right, but is it worth putting his relationship with Pete on the line? What if they went to couple’s therapy, and it all worked out, even if the roots of their problems stretched deeper than the surface? Maybe once they return home, it’ll be okay– but Patrick would still be around to get on Gabe’s nerves and attempt to drive them apart. Could Gabe even trust Pete on tour, surrounded by adoring fans and confined in a bus for months with the man deliberately trying to sabotage them?
The latte is placed in front of him, and he quietly thanks the barista before taking a sip. The hot, sugary concoction burns his tongue and slides down his throat. He should have ordered a black coffee, because he feels fat already. Fat and bloated by tears.
“I should check on Bill,” Gabe mutters, and pushes his latte toward Ryan. “Want this?”
Ryan glances behind Gabe. “Well, he’s here, so that’s not necessary.” He waves. “Morning, Bill.”
“Morning.” William shuffles forward in a gray sweatshirt several sizes too large, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. He collapses into the seat beside Gabe. “Have you guys ordered food yet?”
“Not yet,” Gabe says. “Are you doing okay? Are you sure you can keep down something?”
William bobs his heavy head up and down. “Yeah. I didn’t force myself out of bed to drink black coffee and be a judgy bitch this morning.” He yawns and grabs a menu. “Maybe I’ll have some eggs. I think I could handle eggs. Scrambled eggs sound good right now.”
Keeping his eyes forward, Gabe croaks out, “Scrambled eggs do sound good.”
William looks up. “You okay?”
“I should be asking you that.”
“Well, you know the answer. What’s wrong?”
Gabe opens his mouth, but shakes his head when he sees Pete in the corner of his eye. He turns back to his latte for a long sip of caffeinated courage before he feels arms wrapping around his shoulders and a kiss on his head.
“Good morning sunshine.”
“Hi,” says Gabe softly.
Pete lingers for another unpleasant second before withdrawing. “Wanna grab a table instead? Then Sisky and Carden can have a seat with Bill.”
“But I’m already sitting here,” Gabe mumbles at the counter, unwilling to turn around and face his fiance with his swollen face.
“Come on,” Pete says, lightly tugging at Gabe’s shoulder. “Oh, hey, Ryan! I didn’t notice you there, you’re so quiet.”
Ryan smiles, lifting up his coffee. “Good morning.”
“I’m so sorry about last night,” Pete begins very disingenuously. “I hope there’s no hard feelings.”
“Oh no, not at all. I was the one who drank too much.”
“So since when did you–”
“Let’s get a table,” Gabe interrupts, standing with his latte in hand.
“Oh, okay.” Pete follows Gabe, a little disappointed he didn’t get to finish his question.
William has been chewing his first bite of scrambled eggs for approximately two minutes when Patrick sits in the free seat beside him. “Morning.” A menu is placed in front of Patrick. He picks it up and looks again at William, doing a double take. “Sheesh. Get any sleep? Or did you bring those laxatives too?”
William swallows the eggs to say, “Go get f*cked.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Patrick rolls his eyes.
“He’s right,” pipes up Sisky from beside William. “You need to get f*cked.” Carden nods wisely in agreement. Ryan completely ignores Patrick’s presence and sips his second coffee.
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do,” Patrick says, pointing his menu behind him to the table across the room, where Gabe and Pete sit. “You can’t even feel sorry about it anymore. Everyone knows they’re a walking disaster. It was only a matter of time.”
“It’s disgusting how open you are about being a sh*tty person,” William comments, mashing the scrambled eggs on his plate with his fork. He coated them in excessive sprinklings of salt and pepper, desperate for the indulgence of flavor.
“I’ve already been testing the waters by drinking the alcohol in my suitcase, and nobody’s seemed to notice my vodka breath. As you can plainly see, nobody cares.”
“Ew, you’ve been drunk this whole time?” Sisky asks. “No wonder. Let me smell.”
Patrick leans in front of William and exhales for Sisky. William shrinks back, disgusted. Sisky sniffs and says, “Oh yeah, that does not pass the Adam T. Siska breathalyzer test. He’s drunk. Nobody pay attention to him.”
“Also to be clear, I haven’t been drunk this entire time,” Patrick says. “I’m just getting ready for the bachelor party tonight. I need all the help I can get.”
Ryan finally snorts. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“What, you think I haven’t heard about the threesome?”
Ryan pales. “How the hell did you hear about it already? Did Pete tell you?”
“Everyone’s talking about it,” Patrick says. “Vicky told me in the elevator.”
“Who the hell told Vicky?”
“I dunno. But with the way you’re looking, I guess it’s trueee,” Patrick sing-songs. He looks over at the barista and calls out, “Yo! Do you guys serve alcohol this early?”
“We have mimosas, monsieur,” says the barista.
Patrick slams down his menu and says, “Count me in!”
“Don’t serve him alcohol,” Ryan says.
“No, he’s joking,” Patrick says, forcing a desperate chuckle. “He’s joking. Really.”
“I’ll give you…” Ryan takes out his wallet and counts the bills. “...five thousand francs if you refuse to serve him alcohol. Trust me, this guy won’t tip you sh*t.”
“Ryan, don’t be a dick, seriously–” But the barista is already taking the francs from Ryan and tucking them into his pocket. Now Patrick’s morning mimosa is nothing but a dream. “You know you can’t stop me from drinking all day.”
“No, but it’s fun to watch you squirm like that.”
Patrick growls. “Whatever. If you think you’re delaying me drinking, you’re not. There’s a bottle of chartreuse in my room with my name on it.”
“That poor bottle,” mutters William. Sisky snorts.
“Fine, don’t take me seriously.” Patrick picks up his menu again, stewing as he studies all the options– maybe he’ll throw up the strawberry crepes this fine morning. He glances over in envy at William’s plate of aggressively salted and peppered eggs, barely picked at. Patrick shakes his head. No, tonight is the night you finally confess your love to Pete, while everyone is drunk and gay and horny, and the last thing you need tonight is to burst a blood vessel in your eye. He’ll even do one better than William and order scrambled egg whites. Beat that. Although he still plans on drinking a bucketload of alcohol through the course of the day, which will certainly add up, it’s rarely added to his daily calorie count. He has to keep his sanity intact after some of the things Brendon said to him, after all. How else do you deal with the fact Brendon Urie called your body “gelatinous?” What does that even f*cking mean?
But at least the harsh criticism helped Patrick shed a few pounds– his confidence went up by just one notch after initially plummeting to the very bottom. This is going to finally be his comeback, and nobody will be able to blame him once he swindles a kiss or two out of Pete. His and Gabe’s engagement is on its knees. Ryan and Jon’s threesome with Mikey couldn’t have come at a better time– Pete won’t only be jealous, but desperate to savor the freedom of being an unchained bachelor. And that’s when Patrick will swoop in. The wedding was doomed to fail anyway.
“So?” Pete asks Gabe. “What did he say?”
Gabe feigns innocence. “Who?”
“Ryan.” Realizing his impatience is showing, Pete straightens his posture and digs his fork into eggs en cocette sprinkled with goat cheese, fresh out of the oven in a small cast iron skillet. “I mean, I’m just curious. That’s all.” He quickly shovels a bite of hot egg in his mouth and does a poor job of pretending it’s not burning his tongue. “Mm. Delish. Yum.”
“Why do you want to know so badly?” Gabe asks. “He didn’t tell me that much.”
Pete takes a gulp of water. “Well, did it happen?”
Gabe pokes at his uneaten beignet and wipes his sugar-dusted finger on his napkin. “Did what happen?”
“Babe.”
“I don’t think we should really be talking about this.”
“We could talk about the fact you’re not eating breakfast instead.”
“f*cking hell, Pete, that’s not a threat.” Gabe huffs. “Anyways, it did happen. If you want to know more, how about you go ask Ryan if you can watch next time.”
“He didn’t really say that, right?”
Gabe gives him an exasperated look. “Oh my God, Pete, what do you think? Of course not.”
“I’m joking.” Pete’s fork stabs into the eggs. “Take a chill pill.”
Just as Gabe lifts a hand to reach for his beignet yet again, his head snaps up hearing Sisky’s whistle echo through the room. Mikey Way is standing in the doorway, utterly confused as nearly everyone belonging to their wedding party bursts into claps and wolf whistles. Other tourists look on in confusion. Ryan and Jon, blushing red, mouth the word Sorry to Mikey. However, taking it like a pro, Mikey shrugs and walks across the room to the coffee bar without an ounce of shame. He even waves at Ryan and Jon, completely straight-faced.
“Did you notice the limp?” Pete whispers, enraptured.
Gabe’s finger impales the beignet. Jam spurts onto the plate. “You’re seeing things.”
Saltwater is the worst place to sulk. The sun beats down on Gabe’s greasy sunscreen-coated skin, the breeze ruffles his dry hair, and his friends are throwing around a half-deflated beach ball they found washed up on the shore. It would cheer Gabe up if he didn’t know any better, but his stubborn stomach is somehow hungry and nauseous at the same time remembering the uneaten, bleeding beignet he’d left behind.
The plastic beach ball smacks Gabe in the chest. “Gabe, throw it over here!” Ryland calls over. It’s clearly an attempt at trying to get him to join the fun and games, but instead, Gabe’s arms stay locked at his side while he watches the flimsy ball float with the tide past him.
Vicky sighs and paddles over to fetch the ball. “What are you so upset about? The fact that Ryan and Jon got some action? Look, we’re all jealous, but you’re the one who’s getting married and it’s a little weird…”
“I’m not jealous,” Gabe states. “I’m thinking. Also, how are you all acting so normal about this?”
“There’s nothing wrong with three consenting adults,” Nate cuts in. “Or four. Or five.”
“They were all drunk.”
“Oh, weren’t we all?”
Gabe looks at Ryland in disbelief. “Are you telling me you’ve had a threesome before?”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t pay enough attention on Warped, man. Nobody propositioned you because you’re too tall to logistically fit in a tiny bunk with several other people.”
“You’re as tall as me.”
“Dude, I’m pulling your leg. Mostly.”
“So… everyone was just– I…” Gabe shakes his head. “I’m pretending I never heard this. The sun’s too bright, I’m gonna go sit in the shade with Bill.”
“Do whatever you need to do. Is it really that much of a bombshell?”
“It would be if my life wasn’t falling to pieces right now.” Gabe starts to wade toward the sand and waves to William, who lounges in the shade on a beach towel spread across a rocky ledge. He had originally dragged himself out with everyone else to swim, but soon decided he’d rather read and stole Gabe’s collection of Kafka stories.
“Hey!” he hears Pete call out. Gabe turns to see him, splashing through the water away from where he’d been gravitating toward Mikey, working up the courage to ask the man relaxing in the tube float a few personal questions. Despite being so bold to let his intentions so blatantly show, his tone is laced with easily-triggered insecurity. “Where are you going?”
“I’m just going to sit with Bill for a little bit. The sun’s hurting my eyes, and he looks lonely.”
Although Pete bristles and glares up at the ledge where William sits, he holds back from a public outburst and instead stiffens coldly. “Whatever. You might as well marry him at this point.”
Maybe I should, Gabe wants to snap. Instead, he keeps his mouth clamped shut and turns around, stomping through the sand and up the slight incline of the ledge.
William looks up. “I do appreciate your company, but you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t think I can deal with anyone right now.” Gabe sighs and lowers himself to the beach towel. “Every single thing reminds me why this was such an awful idea in the first place.”
“Then what are you still doing here?”
Gabe tucks his knees against his chest. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
The waves roar against the shore, wind rustles through the tree’s hanging boughs. But they pause for just one moment, for William to ask, “Do you regret it?”
Silence, for a beat. Gabe turns toward him and admits, “Yes.”
The tide slams the shore again, spraying cool mist across their faces. An unseen moon’s gravity tugs at Gabe’s guts, telling him to lean in, but he digs his nails into his knees and looks back over the crowd in the water. A sophisticated Vogue exclusive would transform into a tabloid frenzy within mere hours.
“Do you ever regret it?” Gabe turns back to William, blinking dew off his long eyelashes. “Letting Pete make his move before you ever could?”
“I regret a lot of things.” William puts down the book. “So the simple answer is yes. But the not-so-simple answer is that I’m not sure I would have been any better. Even the two of us having casual sex was a disaster. You saw how horrible Z and I were. When we mixed, the reaction was combustion. I’ve had too much time to think about everything the last few days… you always deserved far better than me, and I thought Pete was better. Dating someone else with an eating disorder would never be healthy.” He drums his fingers against the rock. “But I don’t suppose it matters anymore. Pete’s never understood the way we do. I’m the villain now. He’s never really known how your brain works, but he knows I do, and he’s afraid of it.”
Gabe tilts his head back in thought. “Well, there’s a lot to it, but I can see what you mean.”
“You can’t marry him,” William croaks, eyes filling with tears. “Don’t. I know I’m horrible too, but… I would try. He doesn’t try, he never tries.” He grasps Gabe’s hand and presses it to his boney chest. “I would do anything to make you run away with me, Gabey. I love you.”
Seeing the desperation in his eyes, Gabe asks, “Anything?”
Biting his bottom lip, William bobs his head up and down. His shuddering heart thrums against Gabe’s hand. “Anything you want. I’ll do anything. I can’t let you marry him.”
“Okay.” Gabe inhales a sharp breath. Is it really going to be this easy, to leave it all behind? “You come back to the U.S. with me, and the moment we get there, you check yourself into the first inpatient program that will take you. No excuses. You’re going to recover and I’ll do anything that you ask. If you want me to go to therapy, I’ll do it. If you want a kiss, I’ll give you a thousand. And if you want to get married, we won’t throw away a bunch of money flying across the Pacific to do it. You have to swear to me you’ll go inpatient, okay?”
“Alright.” William’s grip tightens around Gabe’s fingers. It is that easy. “I’ll go inpatient. God, I’ll even let them insert a feeding tube if it means you’d kiss me again. Whatever you want. Whatever gives us a future together.”
Gabe beams, choking back a cathartic sob. A giggles rises out of his throat instead. “Okay. Okay. I’m gonna find my phone and get us a cab back to the hotel. I think my shoulders are getting sunburnt, and you’re not feeling so well.”
William glances at his reddened shoulders and chuckles. “Maybe that’s a little too believable.”
“Oh, please.” Still grinning ear-to-ear, Gabe reluctantly pulls his hand away from William’s chest and takes a breath in an attempt to shadow his giddiness. “Hang tight. I can’t believe we’re doing this, holy sh*t.”
This is it. This is it. It’s happening, and Gabe can hardly believe it.
Gabe walks down the rock and toward where the beach towels are spread, digging in a tote bag for his phone. The beating sun is too bright to really see the screen, but after some squinting he sees the cell reception is nearly nonexistent at this spot, despite not being far from Noumea. Fortunately, there’s a cafe across the road, and Gabe supposes he could ask to use their phone.
While kneeling in the sand and rolling up his beach towel, the water carries soundwaves to shore. “...you are such a total dick, and I’m being serious, knock it off!”
Gabe glances up to see Ryan, marching through knee-level water to scold Pete, who backs away from Mikey. He’s now standing, holding the inflatable tube under his arm and glaring at Pete.
“What, are you jealous?” Pete asks, somewhat irritated.
“Don’t play f*cking dumb with me. You told Mikey you want to smack his ass, while you’re at the beach with your fiance?”
“Oh my gosh, it’s a joke. Mikey, you know it was a joke.”
Mikey mutters something doubtful. Gabe drops the beach towel and marches into the water, feet splashing through. “What the f*ck is going on?”
Pete shoots a rueful look at Ryan, as his very words summoned Gabe out of thin air. “It’s really not how it sounds…”
“I think it’s exactly how it sounds,” Gabe states, blood boiling. “You’ve been bringing Mikey up every f*cking second. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? Do you know how humiliating that is for me, and probably for him too?”
“It’s really weird,” Mikey agrees. “Can everyone just stop talking about the f*cking threesome?”
“You know what’s humiliating for me?” Pete demands. “The fact you kissed Bill while drunk like a total slu*t! If you can’t be expected to control yourself, I don’t have to either!”
A few feet away, Patrick’s head emerges from the water. “He’s got a point.”
“This isn’t your business,” Ryan snaps at him. “And get out of the f*cking water! You’re drunk!”
“I–”
Mikey points at Patrick. “At the airport, this sh*thead was betting on how long the marriage would last. He gave it less than a year.”
“dickhe*d.”
“Well, he’s right,” Pete says.
Gabe’s jaw drops. He stares at Pete with incredulity. “There’s no way you just said that.”
Immediately, regret washes over Pete’s face. “I didn’t– I didn’t think before I spoke. I meant…”
“I know exactly what you meant,” Gabe says quietly. “I’m calling a cab. I can’t be here any longer.”
“I’m coming with,” Ryan says. He turns and calls into the water, “Jon, we’re going back to the hotel.”
“Might as well go too,” Mikey says. He throws his tube at Pete, the inflatable ricocheting off his stomach and smacking the surface of the water.
“Fine.” Pete crosses his arms, casting a wounded look out to the ocean. He doesn’t watch as Gabe and Ryan wade to shore. He keeps his chin up, undeterred. But as soon as he senses the distance, his heart turns leaden and sinks to his stomach. His gut tells him: you are the one who f*cked up.
Patrick stands, water dripping off his hair. “Hey man, you okay?"
Pete opens his mouth, ready to shake his head and say, NO. NO. NO. Instead, he spits, “I’ll apologize before the bachelor party.”
