XVI

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I woke up really early that morning. I reach over and grab my phone to see its only 7 a.m.

I reach back and nudge Scott, who still smelled of booze, "Wake up, Scotty, time to get ready."

He groaned and nuzzles his face into the back of my neck causing me to laugh.

"You have to be on the plane in three hours," I pointed out.

He shot up, "I'll be right back," he ran out of the room and to the bathroom where I heard the water turn on very quickly. Thankfully, he was taking a shower.

He got out quickly and rummaged through the closet before throwing a regular white button up at me along with his Bart Simpson letterman-esque jacket. For himself he just threw on his Tide t-shirt and a regular pair of skinny jeans. How did he manage to make everything look so good?

I signaled for him to turn around while I changed. I quickly slipped it all on and he turned around.

"I knew it would look great," he smiled creepily at me before going to style his hair.

He reached for the product and I quickly slapped his hand away.

"You okay?" He laughed.

"Your hair looks great, loser. Leave it. I think it suits you," I said looking up and fixing it before having him look in the mirror. "See? You're such a cutie when you're not killing your hair with products."

"Does that mean I'm not a cutie any other time?" He pouted.

"I actually hate you, of course you are," I playfully nudge him.

We finished getting ready and then we went out to see all of the others passed out in the living room except for Mitch. I figured he was in his room, so I went to look and he was gone. I stepped through the body-minefield and almost died when I saw his body laying in the kitchen.

I push him slightly with my foot before kneeling down to him.

"Get up, dumbass. You have to catch a plane in three hours, and if you wake up the others and head down to the cafe, everything is on me," I whispered, kissing him on the cheek and returning to his bedroom.

I go through his closet and lay out clothes for him once he gets up, because knowing him, he won't wake up until like 11:30 and then he'll rush.

I got out the shirt he wore at the first concert on tour which looks like a shirt that would come with Binge, black skinny jeans, and a pair of black Vans-looking shoes I found in the bottom of his wardrobe. I took all of the hair styling shit out of every place in the house and hit it somewhere I know they would never look; a box of tampons that we brought.

I took a little piece of paper and wrote 'do not style your hair at all, mitchell grassi. I s2g if it's styled when you come by I'm actually going to kick you in the face and we'll fight. see you soon, nerd

- Cressida :-D' and sat it on the clothes. I rejoined Scott and we made our way out and to the cafe.

I unlocked it and Scott and I walked in. I had him turn the lights on and I went to work. We didn't open for another thirty minutes, but I like getting here early and just collecting my thoughts over a cup of coffee.

Scott immediately started making the coffee.

"When you're off tour, I should give you a job here," I laughed.

"You really should," he said, "It would give you a lot of publicity, too, even though I know you don't care about that."

"Speaking of; I need to go through the five applications we got," I said. I walked over to the tray we sat on the front counter and pulled them out. I handed a couple to Scott and we looked over them.

I Hate You, I Love You { mitch grassi }Where stories live. Discover now