The smoke of his cigarette lingered in the dense air before it slowly ascended to the starry sky Scott shared with you, having reserved a seat next to him on the rooftop. It was easier this way since everyone else who also staid in the worn-out apartment was passed out or less noisy than during the day.

Scott didn't have the courage to call this place a home despite the friends and fun he has made out of it. This is more like a backup to avoid literally sleeping in the streets. He has a decent bedroom here with an okay bed, and it's enough for him.

It was frustrating how well you were getting along with him because the guy let it happen. He cared for you and genuinely looked after you... so how could one not fall in love with that? Despite how much of a joke the entire situationship is, and how bad you know that the best Scott could do was to fake with you as best as he does with his clients, that he's utterly in love with you.

Not any of the friendly flirting or the bromance could ever be something true because Scott isn't gay, and that's just it. You got to suck it up and keep going, but Scott won't budge or forgive your friendship as it is, so you could at least move on and forget him.

Frustrating, really.

Your thoughts are flowing at that frustration and how unfair it all feels. Meanwhile, Scott stares blankly at the eye level buildings around the area, idly smoking his cigarette.

The moon shines pretty, and it's the main source of enlightenment. It's almost too cruel how Scott has enlightened you around your life since you two met. He knows what upsets you and what cheers you up. He has truly found a way to make your life less shity, does he know? That he's the reason you feel and you love, that he's the truth he's been nudging you towards.

It's all wrong directed to.