Simon's head hit the table with a bang, but he couldn't care less. He knew he was going to get up in the morning with a headache anyway, and at the moment, that was the least of his problems. 

His only concern now was how to get more alcohol into his system. Luckily he'd thought of that and ordered more shots beforehand, not caring how it would look when he had three empty glasses and five full ones in front of him. 

"Wow, someone should slow down." Despite the music playing in the bar, an unfamiliar voice managed to reach his ears and Simon raised his head in confusion. Even that didn't help, though, as he didn't recognise the brown-haired young guy in front of him. And it wasn't because his vision was blurred for a few seconds before he managed to focus.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, the alcohol in his blood making his voice sound less than clear, but Simon didn't care. He hadn't started this conversation and he didn't want to continue it. He just wanted the alcohol. Lots of alcohol. 

Who said booze couldn't solve anything?

"Think of me as your fairy godmother," the stranger declared, sitting down across from him and stealing one of his full glasses. Simon reached out to stop him, but in his current state it was more than difficult.

"Hey!" His protests fell on deaf ears. 

"That's nasty." The guy frowned at the now empty glass, and Simon rolled his eyes. If he wanted to find out, all he had to do was ask. Although Simon had to admit that after the third shot he no longer cared what it tasted like.

"Then you shouldn't have drunk it," he replied in annoyance and also reached for one of the full glasses. But before he could raise it to his lips, it disappeared right under his nose. He didn't need long before he realised where it'd gone.

Apparently, the stranger was trying to make him angry.

"You want to fight me?" Simon asked, squinting his eyes to better focus on the guy across from him. He looked as old as he was and had no visible muscles, so with a bit of courage Simon might be able to take him down.

To his surprise, the stranger laughed. 

Simon's threatening look (or at least what he thought was a threatening look) fell from his face for a moment and was replaced by a confused grimace. Maybe he was too drunk, but this whole encounter made no sense to him.

"What do you want from me?" he asked before realising he had said it out loud. 

The smile on the guy's face changed. It was no longer amused, but rather sympathetic. "You look like you've had a rough night and could use some help." 

Simon snorted. Although they weren't in a gay bar, he knew exactly what kind of help unknown men offered, especially to someone who was drunk and an easy target. But Simon was not so easily swayed.

"Not interested," he replied monotonously, deciding not to pay any further attention to him. Instead, he reached for another full glass. Only it disappeared from his grasp before he could put it to his mouth. Again. 

"What's your problem?" Simon didn't even realise he'd raised his voice. Fortunately, over the noise of the bar, no one was paying attention to him. No one, that is, except for the stranger who spilled the contents of his glass on the floor without a second thought.

"I don't have a problem. You do," the unknown guy replied calmly, placing the now empty glass in front of him. "Whatever's bothering you is no reason to drown yourself in alcohol."

Simon snorted again. Despite what the stranger said, Simon was well aware of the situation he was in. And he knew very well that there was no way out, because he would always end up heartbroken and homeless.

"I mean it," the stranger insisted. Until now, Simon had thought he was the lost cause, but apparently it was this naive guy.

"Leave me alone," Simon muttered, deciding to ignore him if the stranger didn't let him drink. If his problems didn't go away if he ignored them, at least it might work with this guy. 

This time he folded his arms on the table and then rested his cheek on them. At least he had learned one thing.

"I'm Charlie." The stranger - no, Charlie - introduced himself. Simon hummed to let him know he had heard him, his promise to ignore him long forgotten. 

"What's your name?" Charlie was clearly insistent. 

"Why do you want to know?" Simon murmured into his hands, not caring if Charlie could hear him.

"I have no idea what you just said," he assured him. Simon lifted his head and glared at him. 

"I just want to make friends." Charlie raised his hands in a sign of peace. 

"I don't need friends," Simon assured him, but his whiny tone said otherwise. He didn't mean to sound like that, but the alcohol was controlling him more than he cared to admit. Simon was not used to drinking, even though he was a college student, and it had probably been at least two months since his last drink.

"Okay." Charlie put his hands back on the table. "In that case, I need a new friend."

"You're obnoxious," Simon declared, making Charlie laugh. 

"Look," Charlie began again as his laughter subsided. "My friend Nora recognised you. Apparently you have classes together and she thinks you're a nice guy. She wanted to come here herself, but she had to go home, so I assured her I'd look after you," he explained. Simon knew Nora. As Charlie had said, they had attended a few classes together and even worked on a project together a few times. He couldn't say they were friends, though.

"I don't need anyone to look after me," he replied. He was not a child. He was just a man with a broken heart. Nothing alcohol couldn't fix. At least for one night.

"Everyone needs someone to look after them," Charlie assured him. 

"Well, I don't," he countered immediately, reaching for one of the remaining full glasses. But before he had a chance to touch it, Charlie pulled it closer to him. 

Simon's eyes shot up, and if he could set him on fire with one look, he would. He didn't even care that the wooden table at which they were sitting would go up in flames if he did that. 

"Stop it," he gritted out. 

"If you tell me what's bothering you, I'll not only let you drink the rest of the shots, I'll buy you more. Deal?" Charlie held out one hand, the other still blocking the glass.

"Fine. Deal," Simon agreed, extending his hand. He tried to squeeze his one tightly to show his irritation, but in his drunken state he wasn't able to do that. 

Once their hands were separated, Charlie settled more comfortably in his chair and leaned back. "I'm listening."

Simon sighed, but began to speak. "I found out that my boyfriend is cheating on me," he admitted, finding that hearing it out loud was even worse than he thought. His vision blurred for a moment and he felt his throat tighten. He'd cried most of the day before coming to the bar, but he clearly had more tears to spare.

"Shit," Charlie commented, moving one of the glasses closer to Simon. Apparently his story had been tragic enough to deserve it. Simon didn't bother thanking him, since he'd paid for it himself, and instead raised the glass to his lips and downed it without a second thought.

His throat burned from the taste of cheap vodka, but the sting of the alcohol kept the tears away and served its purpose. "I've been aware that he spends a lot of time away from the flat and never puts his phone down out of sight, but I would never have thought he was cheating on me," Simon went on to explain, but then paused again.

"How did you find out?" Charlie asked in a tone that suggested that, although he was asking the question, he was giving Simon time to answer.

"I saw him," he replied, then chuckled darkly. "He didn't see me, but I saw enough to know he wasn't just meeting a friend. I texted him to make sure. He texted me back and said he was in the library with his classmates." Simon shook his head, as if he still couldn't believe it, even though he'd seen it with his own eyes.

"He's a dick," Charlie made another short comment, and this time Simon's chuckle didn't sound so gloomy. 

"He is," Simon confirmed, and although his words expressed what he thought, his emotions told a different story. Falling out of love in one day was simply not possible. Max may have broken his heart, but even in two pieces, his heart still beat for him.

Simon gestured with his fingers and Charlie pushed another glass of vodka over to him. His supply was dwindling, but there wasn't much more to his story and if Charlie kept his promise, Simon would soon have enough that he wouldn't remember anything from tonight.

"I didn't make a scene," Simon continued when he felt he could breathe again. "I stayed long enough to make sure I knew what was going on and then I left. I haven't seen him since, so it was easy not to confront him.

"Are you going to confront him?" Charlie asked.

Simon shrugged and looked away for a moment. What he wanted and what he could afford were two different things. "I can't," he replied.

"Why not?"

"We live together. If I confront him, I'll have to leave and have nowhere to go. I'll either be heartbroken or heartbroken and homeless. Not the best options." Simon snorted at his own situation.

"So you don't want to be with him anymore," Charlie judged and Simon looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Of course not. I still love him, but I'd rather cut his dick off than fuck him. I'm actually surprised I didn't get an STD from him." Simon's words were disgusted and his tone didn't suggest that he still cared for Max, even though the opposite was true.

"Good," Charlie said. He stopped leaning back and leaned closer to Simon, clasping his hands together on the table in front of him as if he were about to make a business deal with him. "I have an idea and I have a feeling you'll like it."

"I don't even like you," Simon countered, although he wondered what Charlie's idea was. He wouldn't say it aloud, though.

Charlie laughed, quickly seeing through Simon, but not calling him out on his bullshit. "Have you heard of the 5 steps to cheat the cheater?"

"Should I?" Simon asked him back. His curiosity grew with Charlie's every word.

"You've already successfully completed the first step - you've made sure he's really cheating. Do you want to know what the next step is?"

Simon didn't have to think about the answer for long. "I do." 

And so the game began.