I pull the key card from my wallet, pushing it in the lock and pulling the knob. But it doesn’t give. I try again, and the door doesn’t budge an inch.

“Fuck.” I struggle to slide the key back in, but it slips from my fingers and falls to the floor. I stare at it, on the carpet, the logo of the hotel printed neatly. Everyone knows. Mom, Lindsay, Samuel, Josh. Everyone knows how much of an idiot I am, how badly I fucked up.

And I deserve it.

I deserve it for how I treated Josh.

Because he deserves better.

And so does Wyatt.

They pick up the key card slowly, sliding it into the door and opening it with ease.

I stumble into the room, going I don’t know where. To the balcony, to the bed to bury myself in the sheets, to hide in the bathroom and drown myself in the tub. All better alternatives than standing here, talking to Wyatt, making them wait while I break their heart.

“Neil—”

“Don’t ask me what’s going on. Don’t do that again,” I whisper.

“What’s going through your head?”

“That I’m a huge fuckup.”

“Because?”

Because I fell in love with you. Because I’m in love with you. Because I’m pushing away everyone because I don’t want to be loved. Because I don’t want any of them to hurt me first. Because I don’t deserve either of them. They deserve so much better, maybe even each other. And I don’t deserve anything but loneliness because all I do is hurt people.

It’s what I’m good at.

I learned from the best.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” I say. “Your parents should’ve said no.”

“But I’m still here.”

“Then you should leave.”

“Is that what you want?”

Don’t ask me questions right now, please. Because I’m going to give the wrong answers.

“It’s not like it matters. You were only here because I promised you I’d get you an audition.”

“Neil—”

“I’ll tell Michael that he still owes me. You’ll get—”

Wyatt strides toward me, their long legs carrying them across the room to me in just a few steps. “I don’t give a shit about the audition, Neil. I care about you.” They put their hands to my cheeks. “Yeah, that might’ve been a plus, but this wasn’t about the audition. Ever.”

I stare up at them. This person who I think I love, this person who I kissed, this person who I let inside to see all the ugly bits of my brain, this person I could see myself spending the next year with, this person who I want to hold on to for forever and never let go.

“That’s the problem,” I say, my voice a little calmer. “You love me more than I can love you.”