I tilt my head back and his lips are on mine. He tastes as intoxicating as ever. The rest of the world disappears for a moment. He pulls away and looks at me with almost predatory eyes. “How are you, sexy?” he asks.

“Thirsty,” I reply. I’m not drunk enough to be unable to hold a basic conversation, I just don’t feel like having that conversation again. Clark would probably be the least judgemental person about not having a career prospect, but I probably wouldn’t find it super reassuring.

He chuckles at my answer. “I’m sure we can do something about that.”

I nod but I don’t walk away. I turn around to take another kiss from him.

"Are you here with someone, Drew?"

"Yes," I reply, my mind vaguely remembering that I am supposed to meet Marc at some point.

"Anyone important? Because I've just seen you and it made all the other boys disappear… Even the one I came here with. What do you say, Drew? We ditch them all and you spend the night with me?"

I kiss him again. It's deeper and more passionate this time. Because although my mind knows that Clark is bad for me, my body never seems to get the information.

My mouth is still dry so I pull back. "Go ditch your date," I tell him. “I'll get something to drink and I'll join you." There is something incredibly pleased in his eyes. Everyone likes getting their toy back, I guess.

I swallow the glass in one go. I ask for a second one. This is not nearly enough water to prevent tomorrow's hangover, but it solves my current thirst problem.

"What happened to your t-shirt, Andrew Scott?" someone asks behind me. I don't need to turn around to know that it's Scott.

"I'm not sure," I truthfully reply as he sits next to me.

"So. Having fun?"

"Not as much as you, apparently." I don't know why I said that. It's a low blow and it's none of my business.

"Stan isn't an ex that might impact my no-dating rule."

And just like that, I'm annoyed. "How disappointing of you, Scott not Andrews. You were the only person who never tried to tell me what to do."

"I'm not. Go have fun, go date, go be celibate, pick one guy, pick ten guys… It's your life. But he isn't good enough for you. Not even for one night."

"Really?" I ask, still annoyed that he would try to tell me how to behave after fucking Stan in one of the private lounges. "Who would be good enough, then? You?"

Something passes in his eyes but I don't know him well enough to read it. I lean forward, aiming for his lips. I don't really know if I want him to jerk back or kiss me, but he does neither. His body doesn't move an inch but he turns his face enough that I would miss his lips.

"Right," I say. "You've already been satisfied tonight."

"Why are you upset?" he asks.

I don't have an answer for him and that annoys me further. I can’t tell him that I am not upset. I am upset. And I don’t understand why. Because I don’t understand what I’m doing here? Because I know I’ll end the night with Clark and that I will hate myself for it in the morning? Because Scott had sex with someone else? Because I’m a mess and he isn’t?

I think I am on the verge of saying something important. But before the words even start to form themselves in my head, Stan joins us. “Hey. Andrew, right?”

“Yeah. Hey.”

“Scott, I’m going now. Do you want to share a cab?”

Scott politely smiles and replies: “You know I don’t spend the night.”

“I know. But we can still go for round two…”

I really don’t want to hear that. I stand up and get back to the dancefloor. I don’t even look around. As expected, Clark’s arms find me almost immediately and I let him set the rhythm of the dance, happy to get lost in something familiar, if not entirely comfortable. I wanted to forget tonight, and Clark will help me achieve just that.

“Can I show you something?” he whispers in my ear. He takes me by the hand before I reply and I follow him. I don’t even think twice about it. He takes me to one of the lounges and it feels like déjà-vu.

He takes something out of his pocket and shows it to me. It’s small and it’s… edible.

“What is that?”

“Something to make you feel in love.”

The pitch sounds promising, the idea of doing drugs much less so. I shouldn’t do it. I don’t want to do it. And yet, when he comes closer, I open my mouth and let him put the pill on my tongue. Then he kisses me and pulls me closer. I can feel his erection against mine and… suddenly, this is all too much. I don’t want to do this. I can’t.

“I just need to get some air for a minute,” I tell him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just need a minute. I’ll be right back.”

“How about you take a time out until the magic happens and I find someone else to join us?”

I vaguely reply something, and I don’t even know what. We both know I’m stupid enough to let him pull me in a threesome with a random guy in a nightclub. But first I need to breathe a minute.

I make it to the lobby of the club. The air is fresher here and it only vaguely smells of sweat. Yeah. That’s good. Surely, I can clear my head for a minute, and then everything will be fine.

But there, sitting on the bench by the cloakroom, is Scott.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him. It’s a weird place to be hanging out. I mean… I know it might seem hypocritical given that it was my plan, but he doesn’t look like an absolute mess. Why would anyone sit there unless they absolutely have to?

“You seemed a bit overwhelmed, Andrew Scott, and I’m not sure Clark would be the kind of guy to ensure you make it home okay.”

“You… were waiting for me?”

He sighs and stands up. “I don’t know what’s happening in your head at the moment, and I am not telling you what to do, but… I don’t think you should go back down there.”

“I don’t think I want to,” I admit.

“Then let’s get you home.”

“I don’t want the girls to see me like that.”

“Have they never seen you drunk before?”

“I’ve just taken something. I’m not sure what.”

I have a hard time looking at him. I’m afraid he would be disappointed, and I would take a thousand judgmental looks from Grace over one disappointed one from Scott. But when I finally meet his gaze, he seems a bit concerned, but not at all disappointed.

“Alright, Andrew Scott. I’ll take you home.”

“No, I told you, I—"

“I know. I heard you. I’m taking you to my place.”