"Yeah but... Can you help me take the belt off?"

Gerard's POV

*the walk back to the hotel*

The kid's name, the one with the glasses who was climbing before me, is Rodrick. He is taller than me, and is kind of like a walking skeleton, maybe a recovering anorexic, who knows. He probably just entered puberty, because his face is covered in red spots, which are rather distracting from his overall features. Although he might become handsome one day, things like that happen, but we are talking about the present and the cruel reality. The pimples would be less noticeable if he didn't scratch at them every second, but it seems like his hand is glued to his forehead.

Great, he just ripped one open, and a bid of blood is starting to collect there. If he wipes his forehead again, he'll smear it everywhere. Not like I'm going to warn him but still, it's worth noting.

Two years ago I watched the Diary of the Wimpy Kid with my brother, Mikey, and since that movie I kind of assumed that everyone named Rodrick is a tall, hot guy who wears eyeliner and plays in a rock band. The guy was even my crush for a while, but now that I look at the Rodrick next to me, my wonder-world of magic and childhood assumptions is slowly crushing under his weight.

I need to say that he does seem pretty fun though- the type of person you can spend time with when your best friend isn't at school. That means pretty lame, but not too lame.

Diego is walking silently by my other side, not really saying anything, which is pretty strange, considering how fucking loud he is. I'm the type of person who would go to bed at 3 AM on a schoolday, but he still annoyed me to no ends last night. It's like he doesn't even need sleep.

I shouldn't bother him though, because sometimes it's better to just leave someone alone with their thoughts.

"Dude, Frank doesn't even know how to strap climbing belts," I say to Rodrick when we reach the middle of the field. I can already see the roof of the hotel behind the trees, but it's still pretty far away.

"What do you mean?" He raises his eyebrows, eyeing me. I feel fucking tiny when he looks down at me like that.

"He tied the straps on mine so tight I thought my legs would fall off," I say. Am I the only one who noticed?

Suddenly Diego bursts out in a loud, hysterical laugh, startling me and I flinch away.

"Shit, right dude, that was *gasp for breath as he bends over, hands clasped to his stomach* dude, your ass was like, huge in that thing," he continues laughing as I glare at him. "I wish I took a picture, it was priceless"

"I'm telling you, Frank tied it too much,"

"Not for me though, I thought mine was right," Rodrick kicks in, a small smile playing on his lips. His hand shoots up on his face, and he wipes the growing bid of blood across his whole sweaty forehead. He doesn't stop there, though, as he scratches the crust off another pimple, right above his eyebrow. Gross.

"Really?" I ask, trying to not sound or look disturbed, even though I'm about to puke.

"Yeah, I actually thought mine was kind of loose," wow, alright then, the fuck do you mean-too loose?

"You weren't with Frank, right?" I ask Diego, who is still trying to keep in a maniac laugh, muffling it into his palm.

"No, I was at Ballash's station,"

***
Time Lapse- lunch

Gerard's POV

Everyone is sitting at their tables, just chatting and waiting to hear the plan for the second part of the day. To be honest, now that we have our phones, I'd much rather just go back to the room and chill there till dinner, but that's obviously not an option, because that way we "aren't being social and aren't getting out of our comfort zones".

The plates of noodle soup, which tastes like water with a hint of something spicy and chickenish, are all left almost untouched. I feel kind of quilty for not even finishing half of my bowl, because the cook still spent her time on it no matter how disgusting it is, but I just can't get myself to eat another spoon. It leaves a weird dry aftertaste that even three glasses of water weren't able to wash down.

I'm trying to ignore the maniac laughs from Drake, Adham and a couple other people as Diego tells them the story of how funny I looked in the climbing belt and how big it made my ass and dick look. I honestly wish for him to just shut the fuck up, but I feel like simple words aren't enough. He isn't going to give up until the fabulous story gets a proper audience, which probably means that soon the whole camp is gonna know.

I absentmindedly brush my fingers through my hair, untangling it and mentally cursing everyone and everything that could possibly have anything to do with me going to the camp. Mom, first of all, then the pilot of that goddamn plane...

"Hello again!" Ballash suddenly shouts from the front of the dining and I flinch back, snapped out of my thoughts. His words are accompanied by a shriek of fear from the tables behind ours and someone chokes on their broth, violently coughing in agony.

"You done with the food? Good," Ballash continues after a short hesitant pause, lowering his voice a bit and completely ignoring the ongoing coughs. "You ready for the next activity?"

Yeah, of course we are ready, what do you think, we all run ten miles every day back home, of course we are fucking ready, what kind of torture is this?

Some tired cheering follows his words and he smiles, no empathy to it whatsoever. Well, he wasn't forced to climb a wall with overly-tight straps slicing his legs off, why wouldn't he be happy?

"Well, that's great, because Worm is gonna read out the plan to ya!"

Worm steps to the front of the room, grinning brightly at us as she pulls out the same crumbled paper from the front pocket of her jeans.

"Oh no, not again," Diego quickly leans in towards me from behind, whispering into my ear as he digs his fingers into my forearm. I try to pull my arm away from him, but his grip is too strong.

Work coughs into her fist before starting.
"So, elementary, you have mountain biking, medium, you have swimming in the pool *annoyed groans from the medium group, some of them banging their heads against the tables*, and the upper has low ropes,"

Really, low ropes? The last time I did low ropes I was nine, and now I'm 17. Are they seriously going to make us do fucking low ropes?

"Oh and, each group will have the same counselors accompany them till the end of the camp," Frank calls out from the counselor table and Worm nods in agreement. "Yeah, Charlotte has elementary, I have medium and Frankie and Ballash have upper,"

I turn to look at "Frankie", when suddenly his eyes dart towards me, and his lips part in a smile, uncovering his white teeth. I quickly glance away, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Oh hell no.

***
Time Lapse- low ropes station

Gerard's POV

Alright, Rodrick is going before me again, and I'm supposed to get on the low ropes in about 30 seconds. That is, if he doesn't slip on those logs.

When I look at the low ropes, they seem pretty easy. Some logs to step on, some ropes to swing on. Whatever, the climbing part isn't really the problem, the problem is Frank and Ballash, who are holding up people who are falling over. Not even falling over, just tilting forwards or backwards, nothing serious. And while Ballash just pushes people's backs, helping them regain balance, Frank goes for gripping their waist and forearm, guiding them for several more meters before finally letting go. Hopefully he won't touch me, but he is all over the place, so I'm pretty sure that at some point he's going to end up somewhere close to me. If he touches me like that, I might as well faint, and that wouldn't be good. I could always blame it on the sun though- it's only about four in the afternoon, and I feel like I'm burning in the depths of hell.

"Gerard, go!" Ballash shouts from the distance and I look up, seeing that Rodrick, against all my expectations, has already passed the swinging logs. I hurriedly climb onto the first one, not wanting to be rushed, and it dangerously wobbles under me. I automatically grip the rope above my head. It's soaked with sweat, but by this point I don't really give a fuck.

I move my left foot forward, then my right, not disconnecting them from the wood. It's wet an slippery, and I'm pretty sure it might be on purpose- it didn't rain yesterday or at night.I hesitate for a second, not sure what to do next. It feels like if I move, I will fall and crack my skull.
Finally I gain the courage to make a real step, and almost let out a shriek as the log starts madly swinging back and forth, almost throwing me off.

"Fuck," I breathe out as my heart races in my chest and I wait for the log to stop moving around. The distance between my feet and the ground is less than half a meter, but this shit is scarier than the climbing wall. How the hell did I do this when I was nine?!

Somehow I-half walking, half sliding- manage to get to the end of the first log. Three more ahead and I'm done. After that it's not difficult- the spiderweb, then the balancing log (which, luckily, isn't meant to fucking swing like there's no tomorrow), then some ropes to climb onto- but that doesn't matter, it's all easy, I'll pass them quickly. All what matters right now is that I have to make a step- more like a jump-to get to the next log, and I'm really not sure about it. It will be really embarrassing if I don't make it- so far no one has fallen off at this point, and I might as well be the first and only one.

Just as I hover my right foot above the gap, holding my breath in an uneasy excitement ready to jump, an arm suddenly snakes around my waist, holding me tightly and I freeze. I glance down, seeing tattooed fingers pressed firmly into my side, the familiar O W E E N inked into them.

Oh fuck.

"Having a little problem here, Gerard?" Frank says with a laugh in his voice right above my ear.

No shit Sherlock, I'm just practicing an acrobatic trick I learned last week, this is just a part of the show.

I immediately feel my face heat up. If I say anything, I'll probably sound really weak and miserable. I don't reply, just slightly nod, and he presses me closer into his side. His body is heated up, and the bloody-red T-shirt is slightly wet with sweat.

I tense up, swallowing a nervous gulp that has been building up since I stepped onto the damned log. This is so fucking embarrassing. I kind of want him to let go of my waist and just let me be, even if it means me falling off, but at the same time it feels good to have his muscular arm around me like this. I don't dare to look back at him, and I decide to just stare right in front of me.

"Relax, I'll hold you if you fall,"

"Uh, I can do this by myself, you don't need to-"

"If I'm already here, why can't I help? I am a counselor, after all,"

True, this is what he's supposed to do- help us. He gets money for doing this, so why not just enjoy the moment?

"Just step over, it's really not as scary as it looks," he breathes into my ear and I shiver, my whole body shaking up. I just hope he doesn't notice how nervous I am, because I feel like I'm going to black out any second.

Frank leads me until the end of the log station, his arm wrapped firmly around me.

***
Time Lapse- after dinner, in-room time.

Narrator's POV

The residents of the hotel room number 407 wholeheartedly agreed that Diego's bed was the messiest, and it was picked to be the "chatting bed", where the rules like "no chips" or "no feet on the pillow" just didn't work. While Adham, Drake and the owner of the bed himself all laid on it, finishing the jellybeans from yesterday, Gerard decided to quickly take a shower before everyone else. Supposedly the hot water was turned off at 10 PM and now it was 9:43, and he wasn't really looking for the experience of freezing to death. He felt gross from all the activities of the day, so there was no way he would ever skip a shower.

He grabbed a fresh pair of boxers, a towel and a small dark green handbag from his suitcase- a wisp, soap, shampoo, a toothbrush, a razor blade and, for some reason, two elastic hair ties in it- and rushed to the bathroom. He quickly locked the door behind him, pulled all his clothes off, throwing them into a big pile in the corner, and stepped under the stream. He almost screamed as the ice-cold water hit his back, and he blindly fixed the temperature until it felt like he was being boiled alive. By that point he just gave up, and decided that hot was better than cold anyways.

The bathroom was really small, just about enough for one person, maybe two, but then it would be really packed. The tile covering the floor was darker beige, the color of slightly tanned skin, and the walls were painted white. One of the walls had a yellowish sink built into it, a narrow shelf with a mirror fixed above it. The not-so-new looking towels were piled right on the floor under it, one on top of another, and Gerard mentally thanked his mom for packing him one of his own. Next to the door there was a small space occupied by a toilet.

Gerard hurriedly poured a generous amount of shampoo into his hand and started rubbing it into his hair, bubbling it up. After about two or three minutes, when he decided he did a good job, he stuck his head under the water, washing the shampoo out. He hated being rushed like this, but he had no choice but to move quickly. Usually showers took him about half an hour- ten minutes for actually washing himself and the other 20 just to think about the day and just to do some general "shower business"- occasional jacking off, for example.

The thought got him excited, and he wished he could touch himself right then. And he almost did, pumping himself exactly two times before he felt the first drops of cold water hit his neck. Somehow the name "Frank" popped up in his mind, the smiling face of the counselor next to it.

Somewhat disappointed, gritting his teeth in annoyance, Gerard stepped out of the booth and reached for the towel. Suddenly his own reflection in the mirror caught his eye, and he quickly turned away, blocking it out of his vision.

He hated his body, but it wasn't the usual problem that causes people to be self conscious- he didn't think he was fat, not even slightly obese, but there was still enough to be embarrassed about. And those were stretch marks.

He used to be a big kid, and after he lost weight, they instantly found home on his body. His mom always told him they weren't very noticeable, but they were the first thing he saw when he stood in front of the mirror. They were mostly on his sides, under his arms, some on his stomach, and when he bent over, they formed a flop. Ignoring them was pointless- they'd be there forever. He thought about getting an operation to get rid of them once he was 18, but that would mean needles being stuck in his body, which he hated, and, by the looks of it, many stitches.

It didn't really matter when he had a T-shirt on, though- clothed, he looked rather skinny and slim, and his arms were just muscular enough to look good.

Gerard quickly dried himself and pulled his pajama pants on. He picked all his belongings from the dusty floor and rushed out of the door, banging it shut behind him. Bathrooms most definitely weren't the pride of this hotel.

He paused, fixing the falling jeans back in place in his arms and flipping his wet hair away from his eyes. Suddenly some noise outside the door caught his attention. Two voices sounded like they were having an argument, and it was getting pretty heated. The boy immediately recognized the voices as Frank's and Ballash's. Curious, he quickly dropped his clothes on his bed and, followed by confused looks of his roommates, returned to the door to listen. He pressed himself against the cold wooden door and froze, trying to catch every word.

***
MEANWHILE

Ballash stood outside of Frank's door for what seemed like an eternity now, knocking. It's been two days, and he was already tired of the new counselor's shit.

Finally the door flung open, revealing the younger man standing behind it. His hair was ruffled, and he was fully ready for the night- dressed in an oversized black T-shirt and long checkered pants, his hair wet and spiky from the shower. He looked amused to see Ballash glaring at him- he lived on the first floor while Frank lived on the third (the top floor of the hotel) and Ballash wasn't very fond of stairs, so unless it was something serious, he'd never come. The thought sent a chill down Frank's spine, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he spread his lips in a welcoming smile.

"So, Iero, all ready for the night?" Ballash asked, his arms crossed on his chest. The tone of his voice didn't sound right, and Frank was mentally preparing to get his ass kicked.

"Yeah, you know, I was just about to brush my teeth, then maybe watch a movie... Felt like some Harry Potter, you know those days, right?"

"Don't play with me, Frank, I bet you know why I'm here,"

"What? Dude, you show up at my door at 10:30 in the evening and expect me to know what's going on?"

"Come out. We need to talk,"

"You know, I like your company, but I'd really much rather just stay in my room right now,"

"I said come out right this second,"

Frank saw that there was no way out of this, so he obediently stepped out, slowly shutting the door behind him. He left his hand resting on the handle in case he needed to retreat, which he thought could be a very likely senario.

Ballash leaned against the wall.

"Is there anything you wanna tell me about, Frankie? How is it going with the teens?"

"Um, the teens, you know, they are nice, they follow orders and everything... You were there with me, you saw,"

"Yes, I saw, and that's why I'm here. What do you think you are doing with that kid? Thought I wouldn't notice?"

Frank gulped nervously and looked down at his interlocked fingers.

"I honestly have no idea who or what you're talking about, Ballash,"

"Hell, of course you don't. I was watching you the whole day long Frank, everything you did, I saw. Before I begin, you should know I really don't care if you are gay, that's not important right now, what's important is that you are trying to seduce a camper!"

Frank kept quiet, and Ballash continued.

"First you tie the straps on his climbing belt so tight he couldn't walk straight for the rest of the day, but that doesn't matter, all what matters is that that way you got a nice view of his ass, right Frank? I saw you staring, you were disgusting,"

Once again, no reply.

"And you "accidentally" caressing him on the low ropes? What the actual fuck was that?"

"Can I say something in my defense?"

"No! Let me finish first, because this is not all. I see how you look at him- you are like a wolf watching over it's prey, do you think it's normal? He's just a teen, Frank, think about it for God's sake!"

"Shit, okay, let's not start a fight about this, it's not what you think it is, really,"

"Yeah? Well, explain yourself then!"

"If you keep interrupting me like this, I'll never finish. Okay, look at me- I am 19 years old. You know, young and crazy, looking for new experiences, getting into troubles. I signed up to be a counselor meaning to just chill by the pool and teach kids how to smoke, and now that I'm actually working, I can't even have a little bit of fun?"

"Frank, the guy's underage, this is simply illegal,"

"I spent half an hour of my personal time looking through his data yesterday. He's 17 and turning 18 in spring. I've done my research, and it's perfectly okay for a 17 year old to be in a physical relationship with an 19 year old. I am not a pedophile, Ballash, if that's what you're thinking,"

"I can't just let you fuck one of the kids, please, promise me you'll leave him alone,"

"Why though? I already told you, this is completely legal,"

"But do you care about his feelings? Did you ask him? You know that at this age they are all extremely emotional, and you can scare him so much that he might become sexually untouchable later on?"

"Today on low ropes he got hard when I helped him, and all I did was grab his waist,"

"This is not a reason to drag him into bed! Aren't you disgusted by yourself and what you're doing? If I find out that you came in contact with him, I'll move you to the elementary group or send you back home, I swear,"

Notes

For those who still don't know:
I had a dream where I stayed in an abandoned hotel with Mikey, and we were completely alone there. The hotel was huge and we were wondering why no one else stayed there, and then we accidentally found out that it's been watched by a group of cannibals for more than 10 years, and now that we were there, they wanted to eat us. They had all that hi-tech stuff placed around the hotel, and they always pressed different buttons so that doors would lock etc, but Mikey and I somehow got away. However after several days the cannibals finally managed to corner us, and then their leader came up to us. He looked like this Russian guy Jigurda (I really suggest you look at his picture, it will make this 100 times funnier, he is basically Russia's inside joke - search Джигурда up in Google images). Then he dashed towards Mikey really fast and ripped his throat out with his teeth. I screamed and woke up and I was sure that the dream was 100% legit. It was just 4 AM and I decided I'd sleep some more, and then I had a dream that I woke up, went to the beach and told a seagull about the Jigurda dream.
I just thought this was worth sharing))

soo, a bit more frerard in this chapter I guess, haha
i honestly have no idea why do you guys like this fanfic so much, I literally got 10 subscribers since the last update
but im kinda happy that this is working out so well

Do you guys think Diego is interested in Gerard?

IMPORTANT NOTE:
if you know any good horror movies, PLEASE put them in the comments, because it seems to me like Ive watched every existent horror movie and literally nothing scares me
and I don't care if you read this authors note 10 years after it's posted, this is always relevant