Archer’s stomach swirled in an entirely different way. He had never gotten over how handsome Mateo was, and seeing him tonight, framed in the doorway, with wet hair and loose gray sweats … He was even hotter than normal. “Oh, hey.” Archer’s cheeks heated. “What’s up?”

Mateo’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Archer said quickly, wondering what his face had been showing.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s only … my roommate in Manhattan. She’s moving in with her girlfriend and I guess I’m officially homeless now.” The panic fluttered in his chest. “Although my mom would disagree.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” Mateo came in and perched on the chair at the desk.

“Yeah.”

“But you’ll find something, right? Someone in Manhattan has to need a roommate.”

“Maybe.” Archer sighed. “Or maybe this is the final sign that I should give up and go back to Ohio.”

“I don’t know all the details, of course, but … you’re talented, Archer. I don’t think you should give up.”

Archer shrugged, cheeks flushing hotter. “I don’t know.”

“What if…” Mateo straightened a pad of paper so it lined up with the edge of the desk. “What if we auditioned together?”

“What?” Archer laughed. “I love that you’re thinking about auditioning again, really, that’s so great, but … not with me!”

Mateo gave him a sharp look. “Why not?”

“Because you’re Mateo Dixon!” Archer could imagine his Mateo poster on the wall behind where he was sitting. “Your agent will get you auditions. You don’t need to do open calls like me.”

Mateo rolled his eyes. “Okay, one, stop calling me Mateo Dixon like it’s a thing. And two, I haven’t had an agent since everything went to shit.”

“You could get one again like that. Any agent who watched this show would be clamoring to sign you.”

“No agents are watching this show.”

“They could be! I heard that lots of people from the business vacation here. You never know who’s in the audience.”

“Well … I still think we should audition together. It would be fun.”

Archer imagined how it would feel when Mateo inevitably booked the role at audition one, while he chalked up rejection number thirty-eight. He decided to change the subject back to whatever had brought Mateo here so late. “So … what’s up?”

“Oh, I was wondering, do you think Eileen’s invitation for tea is still open?”

Archer blinked. “I’m sure it is.”

“Great. The sooner the better.”

“Now.” Eileen settled across from them in her floral armchair, eyes wide with concern. “Tell me what’s been going on.”

Archer and Mateo were on her couch, saucers in hand, coffee table laden with finger sandwiches and still-warm baked goods.

“I don’t know,” Mateo said. “Everything is a mess. We’re so sloppy, and no one seems to care about the show.”

“What makes you think they don’t care?”