pandora's box

sugar

[scomiche - PG13]

Scott is standing in front of one of the big windows. His eyes sweep through the Manhattan landscape, the Central Park beneath him seemingly like a black hole against the heavily lit view.

It's his first time in New York City. In fact, it's his first hours in New York. He landed in the busy JFK Airport not long ago, slipped into the car that was already waiting for him and now he's in the presidential suite of a hotel he should remember the name. The space feels too big for two people but Scott knows he should be used to it by now. He should've learned already that rich people like big spaces just because they can afford them.

For a moment, he thinks that besides the name of the hotel, he should have an idea of how much this room costs. But then he's snickering, shaking his head at his own silliness. As if the cost of this room could be of any importance.

It's been a few months since money stopped being a matter of worry. It feels sort of unreal when he thinks of himself counting his coins now that he has a black card on his wallet. If he was told all those months ago that he would be in New York in some expensive hotel, wearing designer clothes from head to toe, he would've laughed.

No - he would've been angry. Because that would've been a cruel prank. And if he's honest, Scott thought this was a prank when Mitch approached him, even before he knew how rich the man actually is.

They met by chance. Scott was out of college for over an year without a decent job to call his. He was on the only clothes he owned that weren't tattered and that looked a little bit more professional and he was fresh out of an interview. He didn't have high hopes, but he needed to try to aim higher than his job as a waiter. And if aiming higher meant doing coffee runs instead of refills, so be it.

He was so distracted by his unpolished dress shoes and his decaying professional career that he didn't see the man coming straight towards him. It was cliché and embarrassing when both of them bumped into each other and the whole cup of very dark - and thankfully - cold coffee in the stranger's hand went down Scott's white shirt.

At least he had already done his interview.

Scott heard the horrified gasp of the other man but it barely filtered through his own horror and shocked when he looked at his only button down that was now brown and glued to his skin. He kind of wanted to cry but he decided that he would try to salvage a bit of his dignity.

"Oh my God," The voice of the stranger broke through the fog, sweet but urgent. "I am so sorry. Are you alright? Oh I'm so so sorry-"

"It's- It's alright," He said when his brain picked up on the situation, even though it was definitely not alright.

"It's not alright!" Good thing the stranger knew. "Your shirt is ruined and it's all my fault."

"I- uh, it's just a shirt," He tried to argument even though he agreed with the man.

"Will you please let me make up for it?"

And that was the question that put their relationship on track. Scott decided that he wouldn't lose a thing letting a beautiful man comfort him and make up for the loss of his shirt so he let him take him for lunch. It was in a place much cheaper than the ones he knows now that Mitch goes to, but it was very nice. They talked, exchanged numbers and then exchanged texts.

His friends teased him about Mitch who he texted all the time and called at least twice a week, but the idea of him having genuine interest in Scott still baffled him. Mitch was older, beautiful and absolutely entrancing and Scott couldn't help but to feel too plain next to him. The feeling only grew when he got to know about the amount of money the man has.