Fate Will Unite Us (Pentatonix Fanfiction) (ON HOLD)

Chapter 5 (Scott)

          Scott hung up the call and tossed his phone onto the table, then buried his face in his hands with a frustrated sigh. He replayed the conversation he just had with his manager Jonathan over again in his head. Apparently, the critics were very displeased with his performances as of recent. They said that he was starting to lack the passion and soulfulness he had in his earlier performances and said the only two things keeping him from falling back on his rise to fame were his talent and good looks.

          It's not like Scott didn't notice this was happening, there was just nothing he could do about it. He loved singing. It was his passion and had been performing his whole life. He used to be able to sing with such a fire that he would get lost in the music as the words flowed out like a beautiful spell that could mesmerize the audience. When he sang, his voice would be able to entrance the crowd and control their feelings, filling up the listeners to the brim with so many emotions.

           In the short year that he had started working on building a career out of his vocal talent, he had become quite renown in the music industry and had started getting attention from mainstream media, but ever since the accident, his progress just froze. He just couldn't feel the music anymore. Now it was just about plastering a smile on his face and getting through show after show without messing up too much.

          "What am I supposed to do, Lauren?" He lifted his head to look up at his sister who was sitting across from him, playing with the water droplets on the restaurant table. She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him.

"I really don't know how to help you, little brother. You just need to start feeling the music again, and you know there's nothing much I can do for you there. You need to find a new source of inspiration, a muse. I'm sure that would set you back on the right track with your career."

          Scott groaned and leaned back on the chair. "Why have you always been good at confusing me more than making me enlightened with your advice? I expected a simpler solution. Can't you ever just give me a straight answer?"

"Honey, you wouldn't be able to know straight if you had a ruler."

          "Great, a ghost with a sense of humor. Funny."

She chuckled and went back to playing with the water droplets, doodling little hearts on the shiny surface. Scott just shook his head and stared at her.

          Not only was his failing career a huge problem, but unknown to anyone else, he was also being followed by the spirit of his dead sister.

          Three months ago, his sister was killed when she got caught in a crossfire between a thief and a cop. His whole family had been devastated, but Scott was affected the most. He had always been very close to Lauren and he blamed himself for her death. After all, it was his fault Lauren had to walk home that day because he had forgotten to pick her up from work. He had done plenty of therapy to get over the guilt, but had managed to hide the fact that he could still see and communicate with Lauren in her ghostly form. Being around her had always given him a sense of comfort and security, and now that she had become his guardian angel in a way, he was not going to be forced to shove some pills down his throat to get rid of her. He had come a long way from his depression after her passing. However, along with losing Lauren, he had also lost his motivation to sing.

          "I need a vacation," Scott announced. "See the sights, do something fun, risk my life. Maybe then I will get inspired again."

"Maybe." She sighed. "Don't worry Scott. I have a feeling things will work out soon enough. Everything is going to be fine. You'll see."

          "I hope you're right Lauren."

          He paid for his meal and walked out of the restaurant. He made his way back to his apartment by foot. As he came to an intersection, a flier hanging on a pole caught his eye. He walked over to it and saw that it was a poster of his recent concert. It was the one the critics had given bad reviews for. He pulled it off of the pole to get a better look at it. He stared at the glossy paper, reading the texts over and over again but not actually registering what they meant and getting lost in his thoughts instead. He remembered that show really well. Jonathan had been fussing over how his shows didn't get sold out like they used to anymore, and that made him even more stressed during the performance.