Endgame (Scömìche)

6. Restoration

Trigger warning; reference to the tragic events of June 10 & June 12 2016 in Orlando (but no details of the events included). 

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"How do you know this guy again Kev?" says Kirstie, "and how did you pursuade him to just gift us studio time?"

"He's a friend of Antoniette's, and he offered," said Kevin, shrugging. "I met him in New York a while back and he  said that if we were ever in Milan we should get in touch, so I did."

"I swear, you seem to know someone in every country we visit, man," say Avi, shaking his head and smiling fondly at Kevin.

Esther appears by their side. "Okay! Your ride is here. Scott! Mitch!" She calls across the car park to where the two men stand, talking in hushed tones.

The band piles into the minivan, Esther leaning in through an open window to check details with the driver before stepping back and waving them off. "See you later tonight!"

The minivan pulls away and the band chats quietly, going over plans for their recording day and other super important topics like who has the largest hand span (Scott, followed closely by Kevin). To the casual observer, the group dynamic seems pretty normal. Only someone who knows them well could tell that the banter is a little forced, the gaps between conversations a little longer than usual.

The past week and a half has left a heavy mark on everyone's heart; most particularly for Mitch and Scott.  They've been through all the stages of grief, multiple times, with anger and despair a recurrent theme. Finding solace in each other has been a lifeline and Mitch doesn't know how he would have coped without Scott. The manic pace of tour has simultaneously been a welcome distraction and a barely manageable burden, but through it all Scott has been an unwavering constant. His rock.

As the journey contines, they slip into comfortable silence and, for the first time - more than a week after the world was changed irrecoverably - Mitch allows himself to scroll through Twitter, having stepped away a few days after the events in Orlando, in an act of self-preservation. Now, the need to feel connected is overcoming his caution. Scott eyes him warily as he sees Mitch waver and places a hand on his shoulder. Mitch blinks back the tears and squeezes Scott's knee in reassurance. He's emotional, but it's the sweet and, in many cases, fiercely protective messages of support that are the reason he's crying now. And damn if that isn't cathartic.

They eventually pull up infront a rather nondescript grey building. As they exit the minivan, Scott holds a hand out for Mitch, putting an arm around him and kissing the side of his head as he steps down. Mitch pulls himself into Scott, burying his head in the tall man's chest and closes his eyes. He inhales deeply. "You smell like home," he says quietly.

Avi pauses as he's exiting the vehicle, studying the two men thoughtfully. He's blocking Kirstie from leaving and she smacks him on the back of his head gently with a rolled up magazine "Stop staring," she hisses, as she walks past them and towards double doors at the entrance of the building. Avi startles and runs to catch up with her, just catching the door before it closes.

"Hey, Kirst," says Avi, closing in behind her. He glances round to check that they are still the only people inside. "Are they, like, together do you think?" Kirstie shrugs. "I've lost track of the number of times I've asked myself that question, Avi,", she sighs, "and right now I think they just need each other a bit more than usual, y'know? I don't think it's anything more than that."

"I dunno, Es says she caught them making out a few weeks ago. Like properly going for it."

Kirstie glares at him, like he's neglected to share some critical, life-changing, piece of information. "She WHAT?!", she says, louder than she intended to.