The moment he left the building, the adrenaline drained out of him. He didn't feel as confident and bold anymore. Although he was still a winner, he felt as if he had lost something. 

However, he wasn't going to pay too much attention to his feelings and instead went on autopilot to his new apartment. He had a plan for how today was going to go, but Max had surprised him and he needed to recover from that. Also, after today, he was glad he hadn't brought any sheets from their apartment. 

When he got home and crashed on the couch, the first thing he did was write a mass message to his friends to let them know that it was officially over. Right after that, he wrote a separate message to Asher and Parker to reassure them that tomorrow's plans were on and that Max knew they were coming for the rest of his stuff. 

Now he just had to decide how to spend the rest of the day. 

His friends all offered words of support and those who were free offered their company, including Jeff and Charlie. Asher and Jess also offered alcohol.

But for some reason Simon didn't need any of that. Well, not the way they offered it. They all saw him at rock bottom, and he felt he should have completed this step on his own. He wasn't Max's Simon anymore, for the first time in a year, and now he officially had the chance to find out what that meant. 

At first he thought he would spend some time crying, but somehow the tears didn't come. He sat on the couch, numb, staring at the wall in front of him. 

He lasted exactly an hour before he told himself that enough was enough. "This is bullshit." 

The first thing he did was take a shower. An everything shower. His hair, his face and all his holes had never been so clean before. 

He couldn't remember the last time he'd put so much effort into making his hair look good. He'd used conditioner and then blow-dried it to make it look fluffier. He'd almost forgotten what it looked like when he really put some effort into it. 

Then it was time for his outfit. He was lucky that he was still at the same weight as before the relationship, so he still had plenty of clothes to wear to the club. 

In the end, he opted for a black, loose-fitting shirt with three-quarter sleeves and black, skinny jeans. After all, this was the funeral of his relationship. 

He looked good, although he didn't know if his efforts would pay off. It wasn't that he was afraid he'd completely lost his charm, but rather that he would end up sabotaging himself. He couldn't even kiss Charlie after all.

Bad thoughts aside. He'd had enough negativity for one day, and he had to keep telling himself that. Even if it didn't work out today, it wasn't a loss. 

He wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone right away. He just wanted to see if he could talk to someone and get them interested. 

That plan failed the moment he entered the club and was surrounded by coloured beams of light. 

The people around him were having fun, dancing, shouting, and he pushed his way past them to get to the bar. Although he wasn't a fan of alcohol, he found it almost poetic to drink some vodka, just like the night he'd discovered Max's betrayal. Besides, he desperately needed at least a little liquid courage. 

However, one quickly became two. The guy behind the bar looked busy, and as Simon was usually in his shoes, he knew it would be easier to order two shots from him now, rather than ordering more later. 

He leaned his back against the bar and tried to look approachable, twirling the empty glass on the bar with his hand. 

"I've never seen anyone so bored in a bar." Suddenly he was no longer alone, and just as he was leaning back, a stranger leaned next to him. 

Simon looked up at him and found him quite attractive. He was tall, very tall, his hair was cut short, and although he was in a bar where it was quite hot, he was wearing a jacket. 

"I'm used to working in a bar, not having fun," he replied truthfully. 

"A bartender? Not in this club, I'd remember seeing you." The stranger gave him a smile that clearly said he was flirting with him, and Simon decided to cooperate, even though he still wasn't one hundred percent sure of that decision.

"Really? You think I'm that memorable? I always thought bartenders were only interesting the first time you saw them. After that, the mystery goes away," he replied. "But you're right, I don't work here." 

"I don't know about your theory. I think I'd remember you." He gave him another beaming smile and turned sideways, leaning his elbow on the bar, moving closer to Simon. 

Simon chuckled. The stranger was trying the cheapest trick in the book on him, but he was nice and handsome, so it was working. 

"I'm sure you say that to every guy you talk to." He decided to show him he knew what he was doing. 

The stranger clutched his chest in hurt, though a smile still played on his lips. "Your words hurt me. I may not be original when it comes to flirting, but I swear I'm honest." 

Honest. Just what Simon needed right now. 

"Okay, Mr Honest." Simon also unconsciously turned more towards him. "What are your intentions then?" 

"To get to know you, buy you a drink and then we'll see," he answered promptly. So he probably wanted to get him into bed. Simon wasn't sure if he was up for that, but since the stranger hadn't told him directly, he decided that he would have to see about that, too.

"In that case, I'm Simon and I'd be happy to have a drink with you." He smiled and the stranger's reaction didn't take long. After all, he seemed more than satisfied with his cooperation.

"I'm Rodger," he introduced himself and then rolled his eyes. "I know, an old man's name." 

Simon chuckled. "Well, if you wait long enough, it will pay off one day. Sounds like a name for a sugar daddy too." 

"Damn." It looked like he wasn't expecting the answer, but judging by the smile on his face, it was a welcome surprise. "So I have to get through the broke student phase first." 

"Now I'm worried about that drink," Simon responded. 

Rodger laughed. "Don't worry, my pretty boy booze fund is still full." 

Pretty boy was definitely not something he liked to hear, it sounded perverted to him. It sounded like something an old man who had sex with young boys for money would say. And that certainly wasn't Simon. 

"Fund, huh?" he repeated. "That means you find yourself in this situation a lot." It looked like he had run into a player. Hopefully, unlike the previous one, he didn't have a secret relationship. 

"Are you calling me a player?" He pouted, and from his reaction alone, Simon knew he was right. 

"I don't care if you are, just don't lie about it," he replied honestly. This conversation was slowly but surely bringing him back to the very thoughts he had come here to forget. Apparently he was attracted to a certain type of man. 

"In that case, how about we go straight to my place?" Rodger leaned in even closer, suddenly standing more in front of him than beside him. 

The promised drink was quickly forgotten, and although Simon claimed to appreciate his honesty, in the end he probably would have preferred it if he'd lied to him and at least pretended to be interested in more than just his body in bed. 

"I'm going to have to disappoint you, Rodger. I appreciate the honesty, but that's not why I'm here today." He had no idea how he would react to the rejection, but he decided to hope for a better scenario, so he didn't pull away.

Rodger seemed surprised by the rejection and it was obvious that he hadn't expected it. A look of confusion crossed his face and his broad smile faded. But then, thankfully, it returned in a softer version. 

"Ouch." He clutched his chest. "Honesty has never been so painful. If you change your mind, you'll find me in this bar. I'm here quite often." 

He wasn't surprised that their conversation was over, since Rodger had obviously come here with a clear goal in mind, and Simon couldn't help him achieve it. 

"I might take you up on your offer one day, but I'm not promising anything," he replied again, sincerely.

"I look forward to that day," Rodger assured him with his typical flirtatious smile.  

"Hey, bartender!" Simon turned his head in the direction of Rodger's words. "Two vodkas." 

Simon's confusion turned to surprise and he glanced back at Roger. "I promised you a drink and I keep my promises." 

If Simon could convince himself to have sex with a stranger, Rodger would be the perfect choice. Unfortunately, looking at him, he had no desire to go home with him. 

"Cheers!" Their drinks clinked against each other and Simon's throat burned with the vodka all over again. 

"It was nice to meet you, Simon, but I gotta go." And suddenly he was alone again, standing awkwardly at the bar. 

Alone with his thoughts, the vodka affecting them in a not so positive way, Simon knew what he had to do next. 

"Hey, bartender!" And since he was still sticking to the rule of not ordering just one shot, he immediately ordered three more. It was starting to look like he was going to end up drunk tonight, and honestly, it wasn't such a bad prospect. 

He managed to drink one before he was interrupted again by someone who decided to join him. 

He put his empty glass down on the bar and turned around, but he certainly didn't expect to see the person standing behind him. 

Brown eyes glanced at Simon and then at the collection of glasses next to him on the bar. Fortunately, he decided not to comment and before he could say anything, Simon beat him to it. "What do you want?" 

"I heard what happened." Simon wasn't surprised, so he just nodded and then shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. 

"That still doesn't answer my question," he pointed out. Since the guy in front of him was obviously pondering his answer, Simon decided to shorten his wait by reaching for another glass. 

Brown eyes followed his movement, haunting the glass in his hands until it came to his lips and the liquid from it disappeared into Simon's mouth. 

"You shouldn't drink so much." Although his words sounded less like a reproach and more like concern, the very fact that he said them was enough to make Simon uneasy. 

"Fuck off, Chase." 

The brunet's eyebrows raised in surprise. Simon had never spoken to him in that tone, so it was obvious he wasn't expecting it now. He wasn't going to apologise, though, and instead pressed the point even harder. "Why aren't you with Max?" After all, he was his best friend since kindergarten. 

Chase shrugged. "I don't think he needs comforting." His answer could mean many things. Simon wanted to ask if it meant he'd told the truth, as he'd promised, but he bit his tongue. Instead of more words, he reached for another glass. 

"Don't you think you're being a bit hasty?" Simon almost thought Chase was talking about his decision to break up, but when he nodded his head towards the empty glass, he realised he was talking about the alcohol.

Maybe it was the booze, maybe he just wanted to see his reaction, but Simon's next answer surprised them both. "Fuck off or fuck me, Chase," he said in a careless tone. 

"What?" It almost sounded as if Chase wanted to make sure he'd heard him right. It gave Simon a golden opportunity to take back his words, and he almost would have, if he hadn't suddenly remembered that he still had the last step of the plan ahead of him - the ultimate payback. 

"You heard me," he told him. 

"You're drunk." Chase frowned. 

Simon chuckled. "Fuck off or fuck me. Is it really such a hard choice, Chase?” He tilted his head in a provocative gesture.

He'd expected the brunet to turn and walk away, to give up and go back to where he belonged - with his best friend - but as much as Simon had surprised him, he'd done an even better job. 

"Fine," he agreed, and Simon thought he'd chosen the first option. However, he was quickly corrected. "But first you have to be sober. I don't fuck drunk people who can't give consent." 

Simon narrowed his eyes. "How do I know you're not lying?" 

"Drink some water, come with me to my place, and I'll prove it to you," Chase assured him. 

Trusting him wasn't easy, though. After all, he was Max's best friend and even though Simon had broken up with him, the friend rule still applied. 

But that wasn't the only problem in this situation, and Simon's drunken brain realised that after a while. He still didn't know if he could sleep with someone when he couldn't even kiss Charlie, but in the end it was that very fact that gave him courage. 

If Chase lied to him and would let him sleep on his couch and nothing would happen, it wouldn't matter. He'd just have to find a new way to complete step five. 

"Fine," he finally agreed. "But I really hope you're not lying to me. I've had enough liars for one day." 

The look on Chase's face revealed that he immediately understood the meaning behind Simon's words, but instead of reacting, he summoned the bartender with his hand and ordered a glass of water. 

"Drink this." 

Obediently, Simon raised the glass to his lips and downed it. It was difficult with Chase's intense gaze on him, but fortunately he managed it without an accident. 

"Happy now?" he asked as he placed the empty glass next to all the small ones that had previously held vodka. 

"Very," Chase assured him, then held out his hand. "Come on, we've got a long walk ahead of us." 

Simon raised an eyebrow. Not that he remembered how far Chase's apartment was from this place, but he certainly hadn't expected to spend any extra time with him outside of this bar and bed. 

"The walk will help you sober up," Chase clarified his intentions when Simon still didn't take his outstretched hand. 

"Fine." He reluctantly took his hand, trying not to focus on their joined hands, as it was really weird. He'd only ever thought of Chase as Max's mate and it never occurred to him to think of him in any other way. Holding his hand was unnatural. 

If Chase felt the same way, he didn't show it as he automatically started to push through the crowd towards the door, pulling Simon behind him. 

He still had no idea if he had made the right decision, but after a few minutes of walking through the night city at Chase's side, still holding his hand, he started to get used to the strange feeling and it wasn't so bad. 

Hopefully, this courage would not leave him any time soon.