6. Just Hold Me and then Just Hold Me Again
Mitch stared at the ceiling for what felt like eight straight hours that night. He was convinced that he fell asleep not even for one minute.
He tried to think of a word to describe what he was feeling. "Frustrated" didn't even scrape the surface.
Hopeless? Desperate? Sad? Sad worked. It was certainly the simplest. But it encompassed everything.
The evening had gone extremely well, at face value, at least. Scott and Rozzi were hilarious. They were a duo of banter and Mitch could tell that they were both extremely intelligent with their witty humor. They did an excellent job of making Mitch feel included, seemingly taking an interest in getting to know him. They listened intently as he spoke of his love for singing, what he wanted to do when he graduates, and about how he hated everything about high school.
So why did he feel so lousy about it?
He knew why. He knew that it was because the more he spoke with Scott, the more he realized that he was not Scott. Not the Scott that he longed for, anyway.
Real Scott was charming and smooth. He was confident, but not cocky. He was smart and sweet.
Mitch's Scott was insecure, timid, fearful, and at times, downright mean... but he was mysterious and intriguing.
And he was his.
"Fuck, I miss you," Mitch whispered, covering his eyes with his arm as he lay on his back.
He let the tears fall, until he finally cried himself into a fitful sleep.
Scott: Bus Boy.
Mitch: Angel.
Scott: What are you doing tonight?
Mitch's pulse took off in his chest like a racehorse.
Mitch: Staying in with K
Scott: Wanna come to a party with me and Roz? You can bring Kirstie of course
Mitch was instantly anxious as he read the message.
"Kirst!"
She was in his doorway within a minute. "Yeah, babe?"
"Wanna go to a party?"
She looked at him like he had ten heads. "Always. The question is really, do you?"
Mitch looked at his phone as though it might bite him.
"Scott invited us to one."
"Is that a good idea?"
"I have no clue."
"So, whose party is this?" Mitch asked as they sat on the bus that night.
"Some friends of mine," Rozzi offered with a smile, but left it at that. She returned to her conversation with Kirstin, and they were clearly hitting it off without a hitch.
Mitch took the lull in his conversation with Scott to look him over. He mentally berated himself again for not remembering that this man existed somewhere on his own college campus. His ripped black jeans weren't quite as tight as his uniform, but they certainly didn't leave too much to the imagination. He wore a baby pink button-down that was completely open, with a black tank underneath.
Pink looked incredible on him. Mitch couldn't explain it. But it was perfection.
Mitch's Scott wouldn't have been caught dead in pink, though. So Mitch kind of hated it.
Scott's hair was the same, at least. Swooped to one side in a wave that was meticulously placed.
When they walked up to the house, they could hear music blaring from inside as soon as they reached the sidewalk out front.
"Is that... karaoke?" Kirstin laughed.
Rozzi nodded, pulling her by the hand and taking off with her up the front walkway. Mitch watched them jog along fondly, thankful that if nothing else, at least Kirstin made a new friend tonight.
Scott laughed gently next to him, and Mitch found his own mouth curling into a smile.
Scott handed him a cup after a few minutes had passed, and he took it, muttering his thanks.
"You okay? You seem... preoccupied," Scott said, softly.
"I'm fine." Mitch knew that in order to be convincing, he should probably try to make eye contact with the gorgeous man in front of him, but he found that he couldn't. It was like trying to open your eyes in bright sunlight. His body just didn't want to comply.
"C'mere, let me introduce you to someone," Scott said, pulling Mitch by the elbow and ignoring his awkward demeanor altogether.
Mitch came face-to-face with a man who was around his height, with thick glasses, a moment later. He looked like Clark Kent, Mitch supposed, as Scott gave him a hug in greeting.
"Mitch, this is Chet. Chet, Mitch."
Was Scott trying to set him up with this man? Mitch didn't think it was possible to be more uncomfortable than he was when they entered the party, but here he was, proving himself wrong as he stared into the man's eyes in front of him.
"Ah, the one you were telling me about!" Chet said with a grin.
Scott smiled, and looked over at Mitch, but his smile faltered as he saw the nauseous look on Mitch's face.
"Um... Mitch, Chet is the president of the a cappella group on campus." Scott said, his tone concerned. "Rozzi is in the group, too."
Chet smiled and nodded. "Been trying to get this man here to join us since I heard him sing during freshman year, too. Maybe you can help me out before he graduates, Mitch." He poked Scott in the chest, teasingly.
Mitch felt a weight fall off of his shoulders like a giant sheet of ice, falling on the floor and shattering there.
"It's really nice to meet you. I've never seen you guys perform, but I've heard great things."
"Scotty here says you like to sing. Would you be interested in auditioning? We have auditions three times a year. Our next one is in the beginning of November," Chet offered.
Mitch fiddled with the cup in his hands. He wondered when he had finished his drink, but he wished there was more of it. "Can I think about it?"
Chet shot him an understanding look and nodded. "Of course you can. You have like, three weeks. And if this round doesn't work for you, timing wise, you can always come and join us some other time. Or you can string me along like Scott, here."
"Why don't you do it?" Mitch asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Scott shrugged. "Rozzi and Chet are fantastic. It's kind of... intimidating."
Mitch's heart fluttered. Was that... self-doubt?
Why did Scott's vulnerability make Mitch feel so damn happy?
"He's being modest. Scott's got one of the best voices I've ever heard."
Scott scoffed. "Yeah, okay."
"I'm serious. Mitch, tell me you've heard him."
Mitch shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. He would love to hear it, someday. He noted the slight blush on Scott's cheeks, making him look even more handsome.
"We're gonna keep it that way," Scott said, his playful tone faltering.
"Oh, come on, your voice is actually beautiful," Chet replied, his voice fond as he elbowed Scott in the ribs.
"Stop it."
Chet put up his hands in defeat, laughing nervously. "Fine, I'll stop."
Scott looked into the bottom of his cup, as though there was something interesting staring back at him down there. "Thank you."
----
"You know that you're like... really handsome, right?' Mitch asked, trying to sound as casual as possible while building his friend up.
He looked up from his food just in time to catch the blush on Scott's cheeks. "No, I'm not."
"You're gorgeous."
"Stop it."
Mitch was taken aback. He put down his fork, eyeing the other man. Scott looked rigid and frustrated.
"Okay. I'll stop," Mitch replied, softly.
Scott stared at his own food for a moment. He hadn't touched it yet. "Thank you," he muttered softly.
----
Mitch suddenly wanted to throw the tall blond against the wall and kiss him until he turned blue.
They spoke with Chet for a while after that, and Mitch found himself loosening up and actually, thoroughly enjoying himself. Talking with Scott and Chet was easy. It was a refreshing realization for Mitch, who was ordinarily so socially anxious.
They were interrupted by the sound of Kirstin's voice from a microphone in the living room.
"Mic check, mic check. Mitchell Grassi. Get your butt up here."
Mitch's eyes widened and Scott laughed, cutting the sudden tension. "Looks like you get to audition right now."
Mitch slapped his forehead with his hand, turning on his heel and marching towards the sound, before Kirstin called his name again.
When he was singing, there was no holding back. There was no self-consciousness, no self-doubt. He didn't care if people hated his voice, in fact. He enjoyed singing so much, there was nothing on earth that could ruin that for him.
So he took his place next to Kirstin, just as the song began. He laughed at the song choice. Kirstin did love Dua Lipa.
I've always been the one to say the first goodbye
Had to love and lose a hundred million times
Had to get it wrong to know just what I like
Now I'm falling
You say my name like I have never heard before
I'm indecisive, but this time I know for sure
I hope I'm not the only one that feels it all
Are you falling?
Mitch could feel Scott's eyes on him as he sang the words. This was the only time that he could positively say that he didn't care. He was in his element.
Center of attention, you know you can get whatever you want from me
Whenever you want it, baby
It's you in my reflection, now I'm afraid of all the things it could do to me,
If I would've known it, baby
Kirstin's voice came in for the chorus, blending perfectly with his, despite her already being tipsy (how did that happen so fast?) He could hear Rozzi cheering them on.
I would've stayed at home
'Cause I was doing better alone
But when you said, "hello",
I knew it was the end of it all
I should've stayed at home
'Cause now there ain't no letting you go
Am I falling in love with the one who could break my heart?
He was glad he came. This was more fun than he had had since...
Well, since he could remember.
The song ended in a bit of a blur, and Mitch handed off the microphone to Chet, who had been watching him with wide eyes.
"Remember when I said that you could take your time to decide if you join us? I take that back. Please come. And please bring her."
He could feel himself blushing, and now that he wasn't holding a microphone, he felt naked.
Scott put an arm around him and led him away, wordlessly, and Mitch was thankful for that.
"I didn't know you could sing sing."
Mitch felt himself blushing again, but he didn't mind this time. "I like to, every once in a while."
"You should sing everything. Always," Scott replied, laughing and handing him a new drink. But Mitch was suddenly overwhelmed again.
----
"I didn't know you could sing."
Mitch could feel his cheeks burning and he couldn't help but smile at Scott's fond face.
"I like to, every once in a while."
"You should sing more often. And by more often, I mean that you should sing every word you ever have to say."
"Only if you follow me around with a tiny little piano, playing me pretty melodies."
"If I can hear that voice more often? Done deal."
----
"Can I ask you something random?" Mitch asked, his voice weak and shaky.
"Shoot." Scott's smile was suddenly uneasy, as he picked up on Mitch's trepidation.
"Do you play any instruments?"
Scott laughed. "What does this have to do with anything? Is this like, a trick question? Because you look like you're about to bolt out of here."
"What? No... No." Mitch replied, raising his drink to his lips and downing as much of it as possible, cringing at the afterburn.
Scott raised an eyebrow.
"I play a little bit of guitar."
Wrong.
"...and I played violin up through high school but I was never all that great."
Also wrong.
Mitch suddenly wanted to punch this intruder in the face.
"But I mostly play piano. Been playing since I was six."
Mitch could finally breathe.
"I'd love to hear, sometime." Mitch said.
"Only if I could hear you sing more often."
"Sounds like a deal," Mitch replied, smirking.
If that answer hadn't come from Scott's mouth in that moment, Mitch wasn't sure what he would have done. For some reason, it was as though that answer was keeping Mitch wrapped around Scott's finger.
It was weird that Mitch could recognize just how stupid that sounded, and yet he could continue to believe that it mattered so much.
It was like his Scott was somewhere inside of the man in front of him, desperately trying to make his way out, to tell him that he was here. To beg him not to give up on him.
"Can I kiss you?"
Must have been a strong drink, because Mitch was suddenly mortified as the words escaped his mouth, seemingly completely out of his control.
"What?"
"Nothing." Mitch downed the rest of the drink in one gulp, feeling his eyes sting. He wasn't sure if it was from the burn of the drink, or from sheer fear and embarrassment. He took off, desperate to find Kirstin in the crowd, before Scott could open his mouth to utter another word.