Hope ➻ Gerio [2]

09

 ❝ I'm tired of staying up all night with you on my mind ❞ notd ft bea miller

"I tried to get him out of my mind, I really just - Jesus," Gerard mumbled as he tried to choose the correct words. He sat on Shakira's new burgundy couch. He leaned back and groaned.

Maluma who sat on his right, pat his shoulder. "You'll get there soon, brother. It's not easy."

Shakira opened her mouth to speak, but tears began rolling down Gerard's cheeks. She walked up to him and gave him a hug. "Gerard, don't cry. I'm sure that you did it for the best. After all, the press was getting to both of you."

Gerard wiped his tears and sniffled. "Jesus, I - I can't take this anymore."

"Yes, you can. Just take deep breaths, man," Maluma said handing Gerard tissue, "you're going to be okay."

"No, no. I'm fine." Gerard muttered hopelessly. His head was buried in his hands. His eyes were dry before he began to weep. He could not sleep last night, in fact, he stayed up all night. "Jesus, I just don't understand why I am so attached to him." He leaned back and sighed as he stared at the white ceiling.

Shakira thought he looked terrible, it hurt her to see her friend hurting like this. Sergio's hair was ruffled, it seemed like he did not shower last night. His eyelids were swelling. His eyes were red. It was just horrible.

Gerard's heart was shattered into little pieces. It did not even seem like someone stabbed it or stung needles into it. It was far worse. Thousands of needles and knives punctured holes into his heart. Ghosts stabbed him and twisted the knives. Blood rushed out of it.

Maluma could tell that his wife was pitying her best friend. She hated to see Gerard like this. Maluma hated to see Shakira and Gerard in such low moods. Maluma bit his lip, he tried to think of something to say, but words could not come out of this mouth. His brain was fried, he hadn't gone through a situation like this in a long time. The only thing he thought of was that Gerard should go to a therapist. But would it really help though? Maluma punched himself on this inside. He definitely needed a drink. As he walked to get a drink, he turned around to ask Shakira and Gerard if they wanted anything. "You guys need a drink?"

Shakira shook her head, while Gerard walked up to Maluma. "Yeah, I need some vodka, Jesus. I fucking hate this. I shouldn't have started talking to Sergio, it was my fault."

"Stop it mate, it's not your fault. Things like this come and go. You just need some time to relax. Go to the Bahamas for a week to calm down. The paparazzi's gonna say something. But forget about it. Forget about football, everything! You need a break, go hook up with some guys, girls, whatever. We can go with Shakira and the kids, I mean Shakira and I need to shoot a music video anyway."

"I don't want to bother you too."

"It's fine, brother. You can help us play around with the kids on the beach - if you'd like."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! When are you getting a holiday?"

"Three weeks later, after the game against Valencia."

"Great, Shakira and I will book the flight. We'll do everything."

"Do you want me to help?"

"No, you need some rest brother."

"Jesus, are you sure?"

Maluma poured some scotch into a cup and then chugged it. "Yes, mate. Shakira and I will talk about it. We'll do everything. Don't worry, brother." He handed Gerard a bottle of vodka.

"Thanks," Gerard mumbled.