In your face, Beeb!
Bradley knew watching a mainstream movie with your boyfriend in a big cinema in Cardiff on a Friday night was not exactly the best choice for a date, if you and said boyfriend had to hide the fact that you actually were boyfriends. Furthermore, for a date to count as a proper date there needed to be handholding. This was common knowledge. Which meant that Bradley had to be sneaky.
He waited until the lights went out, then he immediately moved his hand into Colin's and enjoyed feeling like a little bit of a rebel. Yes, they were the stars of a BBC show aimed primarily at families, but they still had private lives. So what, if he was holding hands with his TV-star boyfriend in public? No contract on earth could stop him doing that. He might even feel bold enough to keep holding on to Colin's hand once the film was over. In your face, Beeb!
Ninety minutes later the lights went up again, the music changed back to a disgustingly bland brand of pop, and Bradley tightened his grip on Colin's hand. Colin shot him a curious look. "You can't be serious," he whispered. "Why not?" Bradley answered, "if there were any fangirls around they'd have ambushed us before the film had even started."
They stepped out into the foyer still holding hands. Bradley could feel the adrenalin rising. There was still no sign of anybody recognising them and they'd already made it half way to the exit. Maybe they could even keep this up all the way back home?
The frequency at which the "Oh my god!" he heard next was exclaimed had ecstatic fangirl written all over itself. Bradley would recognise it anywhere. Colin apparently did too, because he dropped Bradley's hand in less than a second and whispered, "you know we can't. I'm sorry."
No matter what people said, if you asked Bradley, fame was vastly overrated.
~ end ~