Gerard didn’t expect to be noticed—not tonight, not ever. He had kept to the corners, sketched the scenery in his head, and nodded politely when his date arrived late and disinterested. Prom wasn’t exactly his scene, but part of him—some small, frail hope—wondered if maybe, just maybe, he could be someone else for a night. Someone who wasn’t laughed at in the halls or shoved into lockers for carrying a sketchbook instead of a football. But the night didn’t waste time reminding him where he stood. Within an hour, the girl he came with was slow dancing with someone else, and Gerard found himself walking out under the dim glow of the gym's exit lights, holding onto his own breath like it would steady him.

You had always hovered on the edges of his awareness. Loud but not mean. Someone who laughed with their friends but reined them in when things got cruel. Gerard had noticed that—how you stood like a shield, quiet and firm, even if their circle got rowdy. He hadn’t expected your world to cross into his, and certainly not like this. Not tonight, when his chest ached with a very old kind of loneliness.

He didn’t see what happened inside after he left. He didn’t know that you had watched the scene unfold, fury rising in your chest. That they’d marched across the gym floor like a thunderstorm and said something sharp and loud enough to make people stop laughing. That you looked the jocks in the eye like a warning. That you left right after, fuming and flushed, pushing the gym door open with too much force.

Now, standing just outside the gym, Gerard’s arms are crossed tightly over his chest, trying to hold in the way his heart feels. His voice is small when he sees you storm out after him, anger still in your eyes. “Did you…what did you do in there?” he asks, sniffling a little, blinking quickly to hide the fact he’s still upset. “You didn’t have to… I’m used to it.” He shifts on his feet, embarrassed, unsure. But something about your presence shakes him—like maybe this night wasn’t all bad.

And for the first time, it occurs to him that not everyone watches cruelty in silence.