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SCOTT

Clothes were strewn around Scott Fitzgerald’s bedroom, his personal domain that took up most of the attic above the flat he shared with Tyler Jones and Eddie Channing. Unfortunately, that meant he had the space to get the contents of his wardrobe out for inspection whenever he had an outfit crisis. This seemed to happen with great regularity.

He had a date and wanted to look perfect. After much deliberation, he opted for white trousers with a pink polo shirt. Summer was on the way out but Scott had a decent tan and wanted to show it off.

He checked himself in the full-length mirror. Not bad. Having inherited his father’s piercing blue eyes and light brown hair, Scott was confident without being too cocky about his appearance.

His flatmate Eddie might disagree on that last bit.

He bounded down the stairs and into the lounge.

“Oh, hello,” Eddie replied. “You’ve finally appeared.”

He sat on the sofa with his new boyfriend, Billy Webster. As usual they were draped across each other. Ever since they had got together, Billy had been a semi-permanent fixture in the flat.He had his own place down at the marina but they all got on so well he preferred to be there.

“Good afternoon, love’s young dream,” Scott said.

“Aren’t you meeting this guy at four?” Eddie replied.

“Yes, I’m aware of the logistics of the day, Edward,” Scott muttered, scanning the room. “Have you seen my Converse?”

“Which ones?” Eddie asked.

Scott’s addiction to Converse trainers was legendary. He had pairs in every colour and style.

“Pink,” Scott barked.

“Here,” Billy said.

He reached down the side of the sofa and produced the trainers in question.

“How did you spot them?” Scott asked.

“Years of raising a teenage girl, I guess.”

Four years ago, Billy had taken on custody of his half-sister, Crystal. She’d recently gone to live in Manchester, but it appeared Billy hadn’t lost the knack.

Scott sat on the chair to put his precious trainers on. The door opened and Scott’s other flatmate, Tyler, came in, followed by his boyfriend, Danny Healy.

“Phew,” Tyler said, wafting his hand in front of him. “Did someone smash a bottle of floor cleaner?”

“That’s Acqua di Parma,thank you,” Scott replied. “Bloody heathen.”

Danny and Tyler squeezed onto the sofa with the other two. They made for a handsome sight. Yet a nagging feeling inside Scott had been growing in recent weeks.

Am I going to be single Scott forever?

“Ugh. What is this I see before me?” he said, holding up his hands. “A monogamous firing squad? I surrender.”

“Now, now,” Tyler replied. “This could be the one. Who is it tonight?”

“The doctor.” Scott sighed.

Tyler frowned. “What happened to the accountant?”

“Too dull,” Scott replied. “He spent thirty-eight minutes telling me about his recycling bins. I kid you not. I timed him.”