Mitch and Noah

Mitch~Invite

A herd of elephants danced on his brain as Mitch sat straight up in his bed. His shirt was off, but he was still in his scorpio constellation covered boxers from the night before, and he raced through his haze of memories, raging that he had somehow let himself get piss drunk to the point of blacking out.

As he thought hard on the night's events, however, he realized there was no way he would have passed out that quickly from so little, no matter what proof the drink would have been.

There was something else at work, that much he knew, and he tried hard to straighten his muddled thoughts as a wave of nausea hit him like a train in the gut, and he raced to the nearest garbage can.

"Was I fucking drugged?"

Mitch's crazy was front and center before he had a chance to push it down, and his heart raced with a newfound anger at being taken advantage of by none other than Jacob, though for what purpose he was still racking his brain to figure out.

For a split second he wondered if maybe Jacob had tried to take advantage of him sexually, but it seemed way too impossible a reality.

The man had a different date, whether male or female, every night of the week, so there was no way he needed to take anything from anyone. Plus, he had made it very clear how little he thought of Mitch, and his lawyering skills.

Running his hands over himself, he didn't feel anything amiss, and he could tell he had not been taken advantage of. The problem was, why. Why would Jacob do something like that, unless he had some evil, ulterior motive.

Mitch knew he was so good at hiding his emotions, that even when tipsy he didn't falter from his masking narrative. That was why he had trusted himself to go out to drink with Jacob in the first place.

The problem with not knowing the timeline of the night before was what blackmail he might face, or even embarrassment in general, at the entertainment of Jacob. He ran his right hand through his hair as he let out a frustrated yell.

"That's just too fucking far."

Searching for his crumpled by the bedroom door pants, he combed them for his phone, which was dying, but had enough charge for the call he knew was necessary.

"Come on, Pick the fuck up."

"Well well well. What have we here? Is my lovebug from last night finally clearing his head?"

"What the hell did you give me Jacob? This is too fucking far I-."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I would NEVER do something like you seem to be insinuating. Though hopefully that's not what's happening here, considering one could sue you for slander with such unverifiable claims. You passed out, from what, I have no idea. I was kind enough to take you home."

"What did you do to me?"

"You REALLY think too highly of yourself. I may be ruthless in the courtroom, but I am not THAT evil."

"Yeah right, then why did I wake up in my boxers?"

"Hey! YOU offered the strip tease, I was doing all I could to get you in bed."

"So, you admit you were in my house!"

"Don't you have cameras? Just check them. I was a gentlemen, even with you throwing yourself at me."

"You wish."

Mitch looked straight up at the small, fake camera that was inside his bedroom in the far corner. Some gag gift from a white elephant party years ago that he had put up drunkenly one night a year before and hadn't thought of since.