Bent.

8. Could You Paint Me Better Off?

8. Could You Paint Me Better Off?

Three weeks passed rather quickly, and horrifically slowly at the same time.

Mitch reached out to Scott on three occasions. He didn't receive a reply.

It's for the best, Mitch thought. But he certainly didn't believe it.

Mitch walked into the audition with his head held high, despite feeling like he wanted to throw up.

It wasn't nerves for the audition. Somehow, he was never nervous to sing.

He was simply nervous to see Chet and Rozzi. He was nervous to remind himself of his stupid mistake.

He was nervous to feel the sense of longing that had been tugging on his heart for the last three weeks.

Kirstin grabbed his hand and led him to sit in the front row. She shot Rozzi a small wave, who beamed back at them from her place on the stage.

Mitch was thankful that she smiled at him as well. He knew that she didn't have to.

Part of Mitch hoped that Scott would walk in. According to Chet, these chances were slim. According to what Rozzi had told Kirstin, these chances were non-existent. But Mitch held out hope anyway. After all, Scott was seemingly the bravest person Mitch ever knew. Maybe he would overcome this one small insecurity today, solidifying his perfection.

Solidifying the fact that he wasn't Mitch's Scott.

Mitch's imperfect, damaged, painfully beautiful Scott.

Chet explained the rules of the audition. They broke into groups based on their sections, and learned the part to a collective song. They would then sing that part in isolation. They would also sing the melody of any song of their choice.

Scott didn't walk through the door.

So Mitch held onto a new hope.

Scott wasn't perfect.

Thank God.

"Want to grab dinner, new members?" Rozzi asked, slinging an arm around each of them as they walked out. Chet was behind them, beaming like he had hit the lottery.

"Yes! Let's celebrate!" Kirstin said, her tone full of excitement that Mitch felt internally, but couldn't figure out how to express. She leaned over and whispered in Rozzi's ear. Rozzi shook her head.

"He's working tonight."

Mitch thought of Scott behind that bar. He thought of the damn uniform. He thought of the drunken idiots that Scott would have to to entertain. He thought of the comments and the hands on him. Suddenly, he didn't want to go to dinner. He felt sick again.

He went to dinner. He couldn't keep disappointing Kirstin like this.

He was glad that he was being forced out of his comfort zone. They were laughing harder than he had laughed in a long time.

Chet was funny. He was a bit stupid, which gave Rozzi just enough ammo to keep Kirstin and Mitch laughing until there were tears in their eyes. Chet was a fantastic sport about it all.

The dynamic was very different than it had been when he was with Rozzi and Scott.

Scott's intelligence was definitely missed.

"Ugh. I wish Scott were here. He would make you stop making fun of me," Chet pouted, throwing a straw wrapper at his friend. Rozzi laughed.

"Yeah, that big softy can only handle so much teasing."