# Chapter 27: The Trombone, The Burrito, And The Bitter Taste of Jealousy
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? I hope you're ready for another wild ride through the pages of *Just for the Plot*, because today we're stepping right into the chaotic mind of Bennett—a man who thinks he's got everything figured out, only to have the universe slap him in the face with a very awkward breakfast conversation, a horrifyingly hilarious blow job story, and a photo that sends his entire world into a tailspin. Grab your coffee, settle in, and let's dive into the delicious drama of Chapter 27.
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It started, as most disasters do, over breakfast. The cafeteria hummed with the usual clatter of trays and low murmurs of student life, but Bennett and Nolan were locked in their own bizarre bubble of masculine banter. Nolan, with his mouth stuffed full of breakfast burrito—obviously a man of refined taste—declared with the confidence of a culinary prophet that chorizo was *the* most underrated meat in existence.
Bennett, ever the logical one, countered with actual facts. "Almost every breakfast burrito has chorizo in it. It's not underrated at all, rather it's used very—"
"Okay, dweeb, enough with the stats," Nolan cut him off, taking another massive bite and moaning like he was having a religious experience right there in the cafeteria.
Bennett asked himself the eternal question: *Why do I hang out with this guy?* It was a solid question, and honestly, he wasn't sure he could answer it. But before he could ponder too deeply, Nolan decided to share the kind of story that makes you both want to laugh and never make eye contact again.
"Got one of the worst blow jobs of my life last night," Nolan said, casually dabbing his face with a napkin.
Bennett, horrified yet morbidly curious, listened as Nolan described the encounter. It started fine—stroking and sucking, nothing to complain about, right? But then the girl started humming. Bennett, ever the optimist, suggested that humming could be nice. *Wrong.* Nolan explained that it was nice, until he realized *what* tune she was humming. With the gravitas of a man revealing a war crime, he leaned in and whispered: "'Seventy-Six Trombones' from *The Music Man*."
Nolan actually hummed the melody for Bennett, and Bennett recognized it immediately. The catchy tune, now forever ruined. Because let's be honest—having a girl hum a marching band anthem while trying to keep you hard is a psychological battlefield no man should have to endure. Nolan described how difficult it was to maintain his erection while picturing a full band formation marching along in his head. And the worst part? He now feared that any future sight of a trombone, or a marching band, might trigger an unwanted, Pavlovian response.
Bennett couldn't help but snort. It was pretty funny, even if he'd never look at a tuba the same way again.
But the laughter didn't last. Because Nolan, with his signature inability to read the room, turned the spotlight on Bennett. "What about you? Get any good head last night?"
Bennett's answer was firm. "Dude, you know I'm going after Bower."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to be celibate."
"I have no interest in fucking anyone else." And that was the truth. Bennett was all in. He'd told Bower as much. She knew where his head was at. The only question was, where was *hers*?
That's when Nolan dropped the bomb. "I saw some pictures of her in a coffee house with Cougar. Them laughing, looking all cozy."
Bennett scoffed. "That shit is old." He dismissed it with the careless arrogance of a man who thought he had the full picture. But Nolan wasn't backing down. He insisted the photos were from two days ago. *Two days ago.* Bennett's stomach dropped.
With a hint of panic creeping into his voice, Bennett demanded to see the evidence. Nolan, delighted to be the bearer of both good and devastating news, pulled out his phone and displayed the pictures. There she was—*Bower*—sitting in a coffee house with Cougar, laughing, leaning in close, looking at her computer together. The date stamp confirmed it: two days ago. The same day Bennett had FaceTimed her. She hadn't mentioned a single word about seeing Cougar.
Bennett's mind spiraled. *Do they look happy? Yes. Are they having fun? Absolutely. Is she really seeing him and possibly thinking about seeing me at the same time?* The questions pummeled him like a tidal wave. Are they actually dating? Or just talking like me and Bower? And then the worst one of all: *Has he kissed her yet?* If the answer was yes, it would quite literally destroy him.
Nolan observed Bennett's green, ill look with gleeful sympathy. "From the green-ill look in your expression, I'm guessing this is not what you were expecting."
"Not even fucking a little," Bennett admitted. He took a screenshot of the photos, texted them to himself, and buried his hands in his hair. *Fuck.* Do you think they're dating?
Nolan, ever the pragmatic strategist, tried to walk him off the ledge. He reminded Bennett that from what he'd told him, her relationship with Cougar was casual. Bennett thought so too—at least he *had*. But the memory of Cougar and Bower going on those five-thirty morning dates lingered. Nolan, however, waved that off with the wisdom of a man who had clearly analyzed late-night texting patterns and coffee shop photo evidence. "Nah, that's not serious. That's tagging her along. No one serious about dating someone is going to only do morning dates. Five-thirty isn't even courteous. That's the pity date."
Bennett clung to that desperate thread of hope. But then Nolan pointed out the *real* problem. Look closer at the photos. That guy at the table next to them? Classic ham-and-cheese sandwich with soup. No one eats that at five-thirty in the morning. That's an afternoon date. And if Cougar is moving her up to the afternoon, that means she's moving up on *his* list of interest. "When these pictures are taken at night," Nolan warned, "that's when you need to start shitting yourself."
Yeah, Bennett was already there. Already fucking there.
"How do I get confirmation?" he asked, his voice tight.
"Ask Graydon to ask him."
Bennett laughed sarcastically. *Imagine.* "You really think Graydon St. John is going to ask Cougar about his love life?"
"If the price is right, he might." Nolan shrugged and took another bite of his burrito, moaning in that ridiculous way again. But Bennett had had enough. The frustration boiled over, and he nearly yelled about chorizo not needing a campaign. Nolan, offended by the outburst, slowly lowered his burrito and fixed Bennett with a look of wounded dignity.
"Hey, motherfucker, don't take your frustration out on me. Be grateful I'm here to support you in your time of need." He even offered Bennett a bite of his burrito. "To calm your nerves."
Bennett didn't take the bite. He stood up, slammed his chair into the table, and marched out of the cafeteria toward the locker room, his mind whirling with possibilities and his stomach queasy with dread.
*Where is his head at? How convincing is he? Would he be able to win her over, despite the history we have together?*
Fuck, why didn't he know anything about Cougar? No, the better question was: *Why did I follow Nolan's stupid advice and set them up to begin with?* If there was ever a moment to question his life choices, it was now.
Bennett pulled his phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. There it was—a picture of him and Bower as his wallpaper, a testament to everything he wanted, everything he was fighting for. The image ignited the simmering rage deep inside him.
*Fuck, I have to find out. No, I need to find out.*
And it seemed like there was only one way to do so.
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**Reader's Impressions & Star Rating:**
Well, well, well. This chapter was a rollercoaster of emotions disguised as a casual breakfast scene. Nolan's trombone blowjob story had me laughing out loud—absolutely unhinged, yet so perfectly *Nolan*. But the real gut punch came with those coffee shop pictures. The panic, the jealousy, the spiral in Bennett's mind? So raw, so relatable. I could *feel* his heart drop when he saw the date stamp. And that ending line—"Only one way to do so"—is the kind of cliffhanger that makes you want to scream. The pacing is sharp, the dialogue is electric, and the emotional tension is perfectly balanced between humor and heartbreak. This chapter gets a solid:
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars
**Next Chapter Prediction:**
Bennett is about to do something drastic. My guess? He's either going to confront Bower directly with those photos (and maybe reveal his insecurity in a moment of vulnerability), or he's going to pull a power play—maybe showing up at her place unexpectedly, or worse, enlisting Graydon's help for a little reconnaissance mission. But knowing this story, Bennett's plan is probably going to backfire spectacularly. I predict we're about to witness a jealous, borderline-unhinged Bennett making a grand gesture that either wins Bower over or pushes her straight into Cougar's arms. And don't be surprised if Nolan ends up being the unintentional wingman again—burrito in hand, offering terrible advice.
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