A Good Night Full Of Mistakes

Ch. 7

It's 11:14am.

A weekend in Vegas sounds good.

Scott isn't entirely sure how this all came about. He knows Esther planned it, he knows he agreed to it at some point in the last few days, and he's even pretty sure that this is just an effort to get him out and drinking somewhere other than alone at home.

That's kind of how his week's gone.

He's joked before that when Mitch is out of town he just lies on the floor and waits for him to come home. It's not entirely accurate, but, then again, it isn't too far from the truth.

Especially now.

It made sense to get hammered on Fat Tuesday. That's what you do, right? Laissez les bon temps rouler and all that. The bon temps had rouler'ed for quite a few hours until drunk!Scott gave way to sad!Scott.

Frankly, sad!Scott isn't the best Scott to be around so he's done his best to avoid inflicting that on anyone for... two days now? Three?

The copious amounts of alcohol that kept him a semi-dazed sad!Scott are kind of blurring the timeline but he's pretty sure it's been three days that he's wallowed in self-pity and angst and wine.

Yes, a weekend in Vegas sounds good. It'll take his mind off things.

Things with Mitch, namely, and how everything is fucking falling apart.

Scott isn't sure if it's easier to think about all this sober, like he is now, or if he prefers the wallowing aspect of the program. He's got a little over an hour before he needs to leave for the airport so the drinking is on hold until he's safely in Sin City with a group of people who are probably a bit concerned for him and the fact that he hasn't exactly been himself lately.

It hit him as he was driving home from dropping Mitch at the airport for his flight to Paris. It actually hit him so hard that he'd had to pull off the 105 and into a McDonald's parking lot until he got his shit together.

He's jealous.

He's jealous and that is not a good thing.

The snarky comment during that near-disastrous Superfruit episode - he said it because he was jealous of the boys Mitch was with. He'd been keeping to himself because he was jealous when Mitch would swipe right on Tinder, or talk about going out with whatever loser whose name he didn't care to learn because it never mattered, or that particularly vomit-worthy evening when he'd come home to Mitch and some rando chatting away in the kitchen like it was no big deal.

And, okay, that last one wasn't a big deal. But it felt like one and that's the problem because Mitch was talking to some other guy and that's a totally normal thing to do but it didn't feel like it.

And that's when Scott knew he was fucked.

So, yes. A trip to Vegas is a good fucking idea because there will be drinks and boys and friends and hopefully some combination of the three will be enough to get his head out of his ass.

There's an urgent need for the recto-cranial inversion because Scott fucked his best friend and caught feelings.

It's 12:30pm and Scott climbs into the Uber to LAX so he can go to Vegas and make this all go away.