Good morning loves! Bitter here today as a cold wind blows into the UK from Siberia, apparently. And snow to come, which I despise bc everything is 1000x more difficult than it has to be.
But I'm tucked up warm inside right now, ready to bring you the latest instalment of the ship that never was.
First things first. Let's talk about Havana oh na na na... sexy, sultry, harmonies on point, Kevin killing the percussion... good times. They look so good and sound like angels... if angels growl and smile and turn your insides to mush, that is. (looking at you, Scott and Kirstin bc damn)
Before Imaginary Parties and GUY.exe, there was a time when Mitch wasn't so good in heels. She was ready to suffer for fashion, but at what cost? Featuring the trio and wine night confessions and even a little Scömìche to finish with. Enjoy.
Mitch eyed his reflection in the full-length mirror, then pouted and took several photos. When he was happy with his chosen shot, he posted it with the caption 'lovin these heels'.
After the group huddled together for their usual pre-show prayer, Mitch sidled up to Avi.
"Look, I'm bigger than you now."
Avi glanced at him. "Taller, you mean."
"Ooh, was that a naughty little reference I heard? Okay, I'm taller, if you want to be precise, and I know you do." He raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I'm surrounded by giants, so. After five years, I'm pretty much used to being the shorter guy."
"Hey, Avi's not so short," Kirstie put in. "I still can't see eye to eye with him, even with my fierce heels."
"Hush, girl. Mommy is just enjoying towering over him. He'll always be big daddy to me." Mitch winked at Avi, earning a shake of the head in return.
"Five minutes!" Esther called out. The noise from the waiting crowd got louder as the group made final preparations to go on stage. Then it was time to sing.
By the end of the show, though, Mitch knew why people talked about suffering for fashion. The balls of his feet were on fire, and his left ankle wobbled as if it was about to give out. Even a hot shower didn't help much, and he just about managed to get his feet into some sneakers.
The whole band came out to greet fans afterwards, but he got separated from Scott in the large crowd. Mitch smiled graciously, but a few minutes was all he could manage. He kept his smile on while making his way to the bus, as quickly as the press of people would allow.
"Thank God," he muttered as the doors sighed shut behind him. He couldn't stand one more minute on his feet. He limped to the back lounge and sank onto a seat with a groan. He was unlacing his shoes when he heard the bus door open again, and footsteps approached.
"Hey babe, my feet are killing, help me."
"Don't call me babe, sugar." The deep voiced reply came not from Scott, but Avi. He stepped into the lounge with a smile. "Saw you limping through the crowd. Scott's still mingling with fans so I thought I'd check you were okay."
Mitch grimaced. "Do these feet look okay to you?" He rubbed his feet slowly. "Ouch."
"I'll find you some painkillers." Avi rummaged in a cupboard and produced a packet of ibuprofen. He handed it to Mitch, who swallowed two pills dry. "That should help. How about an ice pack?"
Mitch shivered and grabbed a bottle of water. "God, no, that's the worst idea ever." He gulped down water and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them Avi sat across from him, smiling slightly.
"What are you grinning at? Don't you have your own bus, or something better to do than mock my misery?"
"Hey, your feet, your choice." Avi dodged the empty water bottle Mitch tossed in his direction. "Listen Mitchy, we can argue, or you can let me help you out."
Mitch narrowed his eyes. "Why does that offer not fill me with confidence?"
"Or, I can go back to my own bus. Like I said, your choice." Avi leant back comfortably. He showed no signs of leaving.
Mitch debated his options. His feet throbbed, and he wished he'd got the memory foam insoles like Kirstie suggested. He hated to be wrong.
"What does this so-called help entail? Better not be anything weird, Kaplan."
Avi shook his head and smiled. "You should trust me by now. Just lay back. I know what to do."
Mitch sighed, and did as he was told. At first skeptical, soon he closed his eyes and breathed out, because this was sheer bliss.
Scott made it back to the bus and let himself in. He loved meeting fans, but all he wanted right then was a drink and a cuddle with Mitch. He was about to call out when he heard sounds coming from the back lounge. It sounded suspiciously like Mitch moaning. Surely it wasn't a hook-up, not with fans right outside and the others coming back at any moment.
Then, an unmistakable bass rumble stopped him in his tracks. No. It couldn't be.
Half of him wanted to burst in on them, but the other half desperately wanted to hear more first. He crept closer.
"Oh, God, right there, that's it." Mitch's tone was breathy and low.
"You want me to go harder? I don't want to hurt you, they're quite swollen."
"Please... ah, that feels so good." Another little sigh from Mitch. "Don't ever stop."
"Well, the others will be back anytime."
"I don't care. You've got magic hands - I often wondered -"
"Don't make this weird." Avi interrupted, but his tone was soft. "Your words, not mine."
"But you - I never knew - I wanted this." His words were interspersed with little gasps.
"Mitchell. Keep the noise down, or I will stop."
"No, no, I'll be quiet, this is heavenly."
"Then I'll keep going."
There was a little pause before Mitch spoke again. "You must've done this before, you're too good."
"Yes, he has done it before."
They hadn't heard her come in. Both Avi and Mitch turned to see Kirstie peeping through the doorway, before Scott nudged her forward. Avi stopped massaging Mitch's foot, and smiled at Kirstie.
She put her hand to her mouth, wide-eyed. "Forget I said that," she whispered.
"Oh, that slipped out, Kirstin."
Mitch smirked at Scott's confused expression, but did not miss the look that passed between Kirstie and Avi.
"What is this about you two?" Scott asked. "What don't I know?"
Kirstie flushed pink and looked at the floor. "Nothing. It was a long time ago."
'Well, I'd like to hear about this nothing," Mitch drawled. "Maybe later."
Avi shrugged. "There's nothing to tell."
"Really looks like something," Scott put in. He looked from Mitch's relaxed pose, to Kirstie's discomfort, to Avi's amusement, which held no trace of embarrassment.
After a moment Kirstie looked up and locked gaze with Avi. "He gives the best foot rubs, that's all."
Avi smiled and stood up. "I should be getting back, Kev will be missing me."
Mitch said, "I'm already missing you, well my feet are at least. How could you hide this talent from me, and what else don't I know about you?"
"You'll get used to the heels," Avi replied, "and you won't need me."
"I could get used to your magic hands," Mitch said, gazing up at Avi while fixing his hair.
"Time for me to go. See y'all later." Avi grabbed a bottle of water in passing.
Mitch blew a kiss at Avi's back, mainly for Scott's benefit. "Thanks, daddy," he sang.
He couldn't seem to stop smiling. Scott watched him closely, while Kirstie wore a slight smile, her eyes distant.
"I feel like I've missed out on something here," Scott grumbled. "I think we need a glass of wine and a chat, girls, don't you?"
Scott watched his two friends exchange a knowing smile. He didn't know what to think, between Mitch's dreamy expression and Kirstie's slip of the tongue. More than anything, he hated being out of the loop. He bit his lip in frustration, and went to the front lounge in search of alcohol. He wanted the truth. And tongues would need loosening so that secrets could be told.
Meanwhile, Mitch lounged on his seat. The painkillers had kicked in, and he was ready for a drink too. His earlier irritation was forgotten, replaced by a sense of calm that he rarely felt just after a show.
How did he do that, just with his hands?
"You look very chilled. Was it good?" Kirstie glanced at Mitch and kept her voice low.
"Oh, he was very good. Full of surprises, even after all this time."
Kirstie nodded, fiddling with her rings in silence.
Mitch closed his eyes and replayed the experience in his mind. Avi's hands were warm and gentle, and that was no shock to him. What Mitch found unexpected was the strength of fingers that seemed to find all the knots, and then unlock them with firm, circling strokes. His tension melted away, while Avi eased his sore ankles with a touch that was never ticklish, always reassuring. Mitch felt no pain, and now his feet were loose and pliable again.
It had only taken a minute to forget the world outside, and give himself over to the rhythmic motion of those hands. Steady and sure on his skin, they soothed, dissolving anxiety, deeply comforting. He could have stayed in that bubble forever.
Scott returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses. "You two, are going to tell me everything. Everything." He emphasized the last word.
Mitch opened his eyes to find Scott pouring wine, and Kirstie watching him with her signature half smile. She raised one eyebrow at Mitch, and he tilted his head in reply. He wanted to know what had passed between her and Avi, and how long ago, and how had he not heard about it before? But he was also fairly sure that at that moment they shared the same thought.
Suffering in heels. Totally worth it.
****
It didn't take long for the trio to change into clothes for relaxing in, and get started on the Chardonnay. Scott refilled the wine glasses, adding just a drop to his own. Mitch was relaxed, sitting close as usual, but Scott had no intention of getting drunk, and every intention of making his friends talk. He watched Kirstie get more comfortable, pulling her feet up beside her on the couch and giggling. Mitch was telling her a story that Scott had heard before, and she found it hilarious.
"I'm telling you girl, he had that boy panting. He'd have done anything Avi asked, and I mean anything." Mitch arched his brows and grinned, shaking his head at the memory. He'd tricked Avi into going shopping with him, and then tried to have a little fun getting him embarrassed. Avi had gone one better though, not only nailing the flirt game, but reducing the male assistant to a puddle of adoration.
"This is Avi we're talking about, right? Flirting with a shop assistant?"
"You bet. Giving the guy major bedroom eyes, letting me undress him, and being a total daddy-"
"Undress?" Kirstie's eyes were like saucers. "In a shop? In public?"
"Calm down honey, it was just a couple of shirt buttons."
"Was it hot though?" Scott asked, sipping his drink. He knew this story, and was sorry he'd missed seeing it.
Mitch fluttered his lashes closed, and put one hand to his chest. "Oh, totally. I was trying to push him, but he just ran with it. I don't think he was even trying that hard, I'd love to see that."
"I bet you would. I bet you'd like to see him really go in." Kirstie's lip twitched as she tried to keep a straight face. "Go harder!" She collapsed in a fit of hysterical laughter, Mitch joining in.
His wine glass almost slipped from his hand, but Scott caught it and set it down on the floor. While Kirstie wiped her eyes and drained her own glass, Mitch slid down the couch until his head rested on Scott's shoulder.
"So, how are your feet now?" Scott asked innocently, giving Mitch a little squeeze. The time seemed right.
"Sis, they are great. I told him he's got magic hands, but then somebody already knows that don't they, Kirstie?"
Kirstie was still chuckling over her little joke, and she held out her glass for Scott to refill it. "Yeah, yeah, so what if I do?"
"You never told us," Scott said, pouring the last drop into her glass.
"Nothing to tell." She waved her glass unsteadily, almost spilling some. "Oops."
She took a mouthful and went on. "It's not like anything happened, and I pretty much forgot about it. Ancient history."
"You remember it all though, don't you? I could see it in your face," Scott said. "Don't lie to me, Kirstin Maldonado."
"Ooh, full name. Now I'm in trouble." She laughed. "My feet hurt, he gave me a foot rub, end of story."
She smiled at Scott, and he decided to push a little. Her eyes were dreamy, and it could just be the wine, but however much time had passed, Avi had obviously left an impression.
"This was before Jeremy, right?"
"Of course it was. What do you think I am? He was still shy around me then, so sweet." She paused, biting her lip. "Lots of girls dreamed of having his hands on them-"
"Including this girl!" Mitch interrupted, earning another squeeze from Scott, and they all laughed again.
Kirstie winked at Mitch, then looked Scott in the eye. "Listen, nothing happened, I swear, but he gives the best foot rub I've ever had. Maybe, if you wear high heels and get sore feet, he'll give you a massage too."
"Scott in heels would be a sight to see, and if you're getting a rub from Avi I want to be there."
"Me too! I want pictures and video!" Kirstie shouted, then laughed till tears ran down her face.
Scott had to join in, thinking of how he'd listened outside the back lounge to Mitch's little sighs and moans of pleasure. He'd joked before about Mavi being real, and in that moment he had almost believed it himself. He finished his wine and wondered what it would feel like, surrendering to a touch that was evidently as memorable as it was pleasurable.
"Nope, never happening," he said with a shake of the head.
"Don't knock it till you try it," Mitch said, looking up at Scott with dark eyes half-closed. He had slipped down so that his head rested on Scott's thigh, and he reached up for Scott's free hand and intertwined their fingers. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"
"I'm thinking it's time for bed."
"I'm so tired though, will you carry me?" Mitch pouted at Scott, who disengaged himself gently and stood up.
"There's no room, and I'm shattered. Have some water." Scott handed Mitch a bottle of water, then prodded Kirstie in the ribs. "Wake up and go to bed."
Kirstie wobbled to her feet and accepted a bottle of water. Clutching her phone, she blew kisses to the boys before going to her bunk.
Scott pulled Mitch to his feet, ignoring his whine of protest, and steered him to his bunk. He wrapped long arms around Mitch and hugged him tight. It was something he never tired of, the way they fitted perfectly together like puzzle pieces.
"Sweet dreams babe," he murmured into Mitch's ear.
"Mmmm, yes. You, and me, and Avi's hands." Mitch giggled.
"I heard that," came a muffled voice from Kirstie's bunk.
"Yeah, like you're not doing the same," Scott said, swinging his legs into the bunk.
"Excuse you? I'm practically a married woman," Kirstie said indignantly.
"Just because you're married, don't mean you can't dream a little, darling," Mitch whispered, loud enough for her to hear.
"Good night, both of you," Scott replied firmly.
There was no answer, and he wriggled a little in the confined space. He really hated bunks, there was never enough space for his long limbs and he woke up cramped. But then, as always, he gave thanks for his good fortune, travelling the world doing what he loved with people he loved. And that included Avi for sure.
They bumped heads sometimes, both alpha personalities in their own way, but it was only in the service of the group. They found a way to agree most times. Scott watched when Avi kept a slight distance with people, and he smiled to himself, knowing Avi always accepted his embraces, whether on or off screen. That thought, plus a little wine, sent him off to sleep soon after.
The next day though, Mitch's relaxed vibe was nowhere to be seen. He woke up with a scratchy throat and a prickly attitude. Scott knew this was a day when Mitch would rather wear dark glasses and stay in bed all day, but Pentatonix had a ton of interviews to get through. So he stayed glued to Mitch's side, fed him water and ibuprofen, fielded all the questions, and generally shielded him with a ready smile and cheerful demeanour.
Mitch said as little as possible, but when they finally made it to lunch, he sat next to Scott and let his small frame relax. Scott put an arm around him and knew his friend was grateful. What he wouldn't give to go back to the hotel and snuggle together on the bed, watching movies and eating popcorn. Instead, there was still more press to do. He answered the same question again and again, and when the chance came to mix things up he took it.
They were asked to do impressions of each other. None of their voices could really be replaced, and they worked those considerable strengths into all their songs. Still, Scott loved to play around with his lower register. The fans liked it, and Avi liked it because it showed how unique his bass really was, plus giving him a chance to sing lead tenor for once. The five singers still admired each other's voices, after all this time.
"I can do Avi," Scott offered.
"Yes, do me, do me," Avi put in.
Scott focused on producing his lowest note, so that he couldn't be sidetracked by Mitch smirking at the two of them. Afterwards, Avi and Scott were discussing the best way to get low notes when Mitch joined them.
"Did you like how Scott did you?" Mitch asked with an arched brow.
"Sure, Scott can do me anytime." Avi wore a completely innocent expression that didn't fool Scott for a minute.
"You don't mean that," Scott said with a smile, watching Avi pull out his phone.
"You know I do." And Avi smiled before wandering over to Kevin, immediately beginning an animated discussion.
"You're in a better mood babe, headache gone?"
Mitch put a hand to his head. "Much better now, thanks to you and your lifetime supply of ibuprofen. You didn't drink much last night, did you get everything you needed?"
"I don't know what you mean," Scott said, and he fumbled through pockets for his phone.
"Oh, I think you do," Mitch said, poking his friend in the chest. "Wanted juicy details of whether Kavi was real. I know we suspected something back then, all those meaningful looks. But like she said, it's ancient history. Nothing happened."
"You do love him though."
"Of course I do, but you're my number one."
"Always?"
"Always."
Scott wrapped Mitch in a hug, before they were called back to the cameras and questions again. Refreshed by the short break, Scott turned on his smile and reflected once more that despite all the hassles of their life, they were still blessed to be doing this together.
***
Now, I love my man Avi's bass, but Havana proves that Scott's lower register is also death to ovaries everywhere. The growl has got better since Papaoutai. Our ears are truly blessed.
The pictures do not lie - can confirm that Avi really does have big, warm, beautiful hands...
*snaps out of trance*
Anyway please vote, comment, and follow, because followers will get a lil surprise later this week.
Sometimes you have to close one door before the next opens, or let go of what you have before you can grab something better. Trust your intuition when it tells you it's time to move on.
Stay flawless! 💖✨