sh•mg | oneshots

Season 3 📺

Prompt: Just a little sentiment dedicated to all the hard work and time and effort Scott Richard Hoying put into making this wonderful band we now know as Pentatonix.

Setting: 2011 Same Personalities

Words: 805
•••••

My papers, dampened by my sweaty palms, are clenched in my hand. My knee continues to bounce. I had downed three bottles of water already. None of it seemed to soothe my developing panic.

This is our moment.

This is the day we would audition for the Sing Off.

We had already made it to the inside portion of waiting, the five of us–

Wait, four of us?

"Kirstie? Where's Scott?"

"Oh, he left a bit ago. Said he had to call his sister or something?" She recalls, busy on her phone.

I frown. His sister should be on a flight here by now.

"I'm gonna go look for him." I stand up, sighing.

"Okay, but there are only five groups ahead of us."

"Yeah, I'll be quick." I smile, opening the door.

"Hey, Mitch?" She looks up at me.

"Yeah?"

"I'm so proud of you. What you've become. Just, make sure he's okay." She says sincerely. Leave it to Kirstin to get sentimental.

"You are an angel, Kirstie. Thank you." I bend down to kiss her cheek her, and she laughs as I head out of the room and down the hallway. I've never been here before, so finding the nearest bathroom is quite hard.

You'd think a program this big could afford signs.

I turn another corner and finally come face-to-face with the men's bathroom. Pushing open the door, I see the light is already on.

And, low and behold, a pair of blue eyes meet mine.

Sad to say, they look pretty sad.

"I see you're holding up well." I joke.

He looks back down at the sink with a dry laugh.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Sorry, was I long?"

"No, not at all. I was just-" I fight for the right words, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" He smiles, but it's not genuine.

"Because, you've been hunched over the bathroom sink alone for twenty minutes," I walk towards him, "and, I know this matters to you. A lot."

"You're right about that." He pauses.

"I think- I think that I don't want to let everyone down. I pulled Kirstie out of college; I stole your graduation, Mitchy. I don't even know why I thought that any of that was okay," he pauses, shaking his head.

"I called strangers, for heavens sakes! I flew them out and made them apart of this- this rag-tag band. This is my last try, my last shot..." He shrinks into himself.

"You all are my dream."

"Scott-"

"Mitch." He demands, and he turns to me, desperation so clear in his eyes it makes my stomach churn, "if- if we don't win this. If we don't win this, then, what will I be? What will we be? None of it will be worth it."

He breaks eye contact, but not before I see the glossiness of his eyes. "Just another no to add to the books."

My heart clenches, and I take quick steps towards him, wrapping my arms around the doubt-consumed boy in front of me.

"Scott Hoying, you are my hero. And winning or loosing this show won't change that. You took a scrawny little insecure boy and turned him into this. Who I am now? It's all you, Scotty." I pull back my head slightly, catching a tear on my thumb and softly wiping it away.

"And, what you've done for us will always be for something. Everything happens for a reason. And, you know what?" I wait for his eyes to find mine, and when they do, a small smile twitches on my lips.

"What?" He asks softly.

"I believe that we were made to last. I believe we have what it takes to get on that stage. I believe that Pentatonix will become something more than a rag-tag band of street kids trying to bring back acapella. We can rise above the rest, easy. And, when we win? You're the first one I'm going to hug. Promise."

He pulls me back into his chest, sighing into my hair.

"Love you, Mitchy."

"Love you too." I reply.

"I'd love you a little more if you didn't throw away our audition by missing it." I smile up at him.

He laughs.

"True. Wait to ruin the moment." I pull away and outstretched my hand to him. He took it, and we walk out of that bathroom, hand in hand.

Ready to show the world who we are.

Ready to prove to ourselves that we are worth it; that all of this was for something.

Ready to show everyone what Pentatonix can do.