The rest of the week went in a blur for Scott. He felt like a robot, sticking to a distinct schedule every day:

Go to work.

Deal with whatever slander the customers and kids had in store.

Ignore Vincent.

Talk to the little Down Syndrome girl.

Go home.

Fall on the couch and fall asleep.

Out of all these things, the hardest was ignoring Vincent. They still had some shifts together - his boss had explained, with a guilty-looking shrug, that he couldn't just have them not work together forever - and Vincent kept looking at him with that heart-melting grin.

'heart-melting grin?', I hear you ask. So, Scott's not fully over him yet?

That was the hardest bit.

He wasn't in love with him anymore, that was for sure. The flame that had been burning so steadily in his heart had been stamped out by the one man the fire burnt for in the first place. Ironic, isn't it?

But, when all is said and done, it's not that easy to simply 'stop' being attracted to someone.

Maybe he didn't want to be in a relationship with him any more. Maybe he no longer was kept awake by visions of them together. But when Vincent looked at him in those moments where they suddenly realised the room was empty apart from them, and a silent tension settled between them, a dark recess of Scott's stomach started fluttering.

Scott opened the front door of his house and walked in, groaning as he slammed the door behind him. " 'm so tired..."

He dragged his feet down the hallway, stifling a yawn and letting his bag fall off his shoulder onto the floor. Blinking his sleepy eyes, Scott made it to the living room and fell on the couch.

BANG BANG BANG!

Scott shot up, unbalancing and falling off the couch with a "Wooah!"

"Yo, Scott?" Mike called from his front door, "You mind if I come in?"

Scott rolled his eyes, mumbling, "Now he knocks," before calling out, "Yeah, Mike, what's up?"

Scott hopped up off of the floor, stretching. He glanced at the clock, noticing it was dark outside. If Mike hadn't have woken him, he probably would have slept right through to tomorrow.

Mike came into view, poking his head around the corner, "Just checking to make sure you haven't got some other guy in here with you."

"Ha. Ha," Scott fake-laughed dryly, folding his arms and cocking his head, "So what did you want me for?"

"It's Friday night," Mike replied. "Me, Jer and Smith were gonna hit the town. Thought you might like to come along."

"I don't know," Scott frowned, "I don't really feel like I should be drinking too much..."

"You don't have to drink," Mike said casually (though, who was he kidding?) "I just thought you've been through enough this week, you know. Thought it'd do you some good."

Scott shrugged non-committedly, "I really don't know, Mike. I don't really want to go to some sleazy strip-club... I think it'd just make it worse..."

Mike put a hand to his heart, as if offended, "Scott, you don't honestly think I'd rub it in like that, would you? No, no, that'd be taking this to a whole new level. Plus, I don't really think Jer and Fritzy wanna be ogling some guy getting undressed on stage."

Scott's eyes widened like golf balls, "Woah- wait, what? No, no, no, I didn't mean... I didn't mean..." Pink dusted his face as he thought of what Mike had been insinuating.  He gulped. Definitely did not need that image right now. "I meant g-girl strippers... not...."

Mike grinned and punched him lightly on the arm, "I'm messing with you, you perv. Look at you, getting all blushy and pink over the thought of a male stripper~"

Scott went a shade darker still, this time with embarrassment, "Oh, shut up. You're just as bad with ladies, and you know it. Remember that time you climbed up on stage because you swore you saw some chick wink at you? Pathetic."

Mike shrugged, "Well, anyway, I thought you might like to come along, but hey, seeing as you're so busy moping on the couch, I'll just tell Jer and Fritz to go home..."

"No, no," Scott sighed. "Wait. Let me go get a jacket and my wallet or something."

"There we go," Mike grinned at him, and then turned back down the hallway. "We'll be waiting outside."

Scott walked into his bedroom, grabbing his phone, his wallet and throwing a hoodie over his work clothes. It was nearing November, and the nights got cold quickly. Then he walked out the door to meet the others, locking it behind him.

"Alright," he said, jumping off the porch, "Where are we going?"

"I found this cool little place," Mike replied vaguely. "C'mon, hop in." He gestured to his car, a beat-up old Ford.

Scott hopped into the passenger seat, turning around to see Jeremy and Fritz sitting in the back. They waved to him.

"Hey," Scott said, and then turned back around to the front. "Aight, let's go to this place."

He didn't pay attention to the drive, just closed his eyes and sunk his head back into the seat. They were only 10 or 15 minutes away from the city centre, and soon the car came to a halt.

Scott opened his eyes and looked out of the window, "Where are we? I've never seen this place..."

Mike didn't answer, just hopped out of the car along with Jeremy and Fritz. Following their lead, Scott unclipped his seatbelt and jumped out. He had to run to catch up with them - they'd already started walking, "Wait, fellas, you gotta tell me where we're going."

"Hmm?" Mike turned to face him, walking backwards, "Oh, yeah, right. My bad. It's this little joint down south, the only place without strippers. Trust me, I looked."

"Oh, okay..." Scott relaxed, walking with the others. "Nice of you guys to do this for me."

"W-W-We t-thought it m-might be n-nice to go s-somewhere y-you'd enjoy," Jeremy replied. "I-I-I'm n-not a f-fan of s-strippers, a-anyway."

"I can kind of imagine that, J-" Scott stopped walking abruptly, his eyes wandering ahead of them. "Mike!"

"What?" Mike asked. He stopped walking and turned to look at him.

"Don't you what me! You didn't tell me this was a... a..."

"A gay bar?" Mike asked innocently.

Scott gaped, looking hopelessly from Jeremy to Fritz to Mike, "You're not serious. You can't be serious! I can't go in there!"

"Oh? And why not?" Mike asked, "Are you too straight for it, Scott, huh?"

Scott looked up at the building, feeling a lump form in his throat. Walking in there would be like admitting that he was homosexual, and he wasn't ready to accept it yet. "N-No, I just..."

"What? Worried you'll see someone you know? Let me tell ya something, Scott, no person who's in that building is going to have a problem with it," Mike said. "Come on, Scott. It'll do you some good to be around some good role models, amiright? You've got some idea that you're the only person who's dealing with this. It'll be good for you."

Scott looked back at Mike, "I... I don't know... I don't think I'm ready."

"Ready for what?" Mike asked. "Ready to walk in? Nobody said you have to stay there. You can just duck in, have a look around, and come back out. Hey, me, Jer and Fritz are coming in, right? And we're straight." He stopped talking and narrowed his eyes at Fritz and Jer, "That is, unless I'm gonna walk in on either of you guys pinned under some other dude."

"Mike!" Scott blushed, shoving his hands into his hoodie, "You said you weren't gonna tell anyone."

"I didn't, did I?" Mike replied. "I didn't go into detail. I could have told them what I heard~"

"Mike!" Scott hissed at him, "Shut up!" He started walking towards the building, not fully aware of when he'd decided to go inside. "Are you guys coming in or what?"

"That's better," Mike, Jeremy and Fritz followed after Scott, catching up with him as they reached the entrance.

Scott sighed, gave a short wry smile at his friends, then pushed the door open and walked inside.

((This was only going to be one chapter but... I think I'll make it two just to annoy you all.

Ever wondered what Scott looks like drunk? ))